The queen went into shock, her eyes glued to the dark silhouette of the man standing at her door.
“How dare you speak to me like—” Lord Riverdale whirled around angrily to face the voice that had the guts to threaten him, only to come face-to-face with a man he had only heard about but had never seen. He cut off suddenly. He had never seen this man before, but the instant he set his eyes on him, Lord Riverdale knew it was him.
King Lucien, the powerful king of Salem.
He was bathed in darkness where he stood; no one could make out his features except the blue eyes that shone in the dark.
So how did he know it was the king he had never seen but had only heard about through reverent whispers from the people? How did he know that it was the scary king whose strength and power inspired fear, respect and reverence from the people?
But as he asked himself that question, his mind provided the answer. Apart from the exceptional blue eyes, it takes a great man to radiate primitive dominance and make the air sizzle with indescribable power just by leaning in shadows at the door of a bedroom.
Lord Riverdale swallowed tightly. “The k-king of Salem?”
“Step away from her.” Words as calm as his first statements.
Shivers ran down Lord Riverdale's back, but he wouldn't let himself be bullied like a coward. He lifted his chin. “I'm afraid that you no longer have the right to make such demands. Our queen is no longer your slave; hence, she is no longer yours.”
He didn't move. “Step away from my woman and child while I am still trying to be rational, Lord Waterdale.”
The man flushed behind his ears. “It is Riverdale, Your Majesty. You insult my name.”
“Do not keep me waiting, Lord Waterbird.” His voice dropped an octave.
Lord Riverdale found himself taking four steps away from the queen before his brain could interpret his actions. “Alright, f-fine, Your Highness,” he muttered. “But I still have a right to be here as I am courting the queen. She is the only person with the right to tell me to leave and I will—”
“Leave,” Queen Danika's whisper interrupted him. She didn't spare him a glance. And she hadn't blinked her eyes since she stared at that door.
“But my queen!”
Finally, King Lucien straightened, pushing away from the door. He stepped into the queen's bedroom and into the space illuminated with light from the moonlight through the open window. His face. The barely controlled rage on that scarred face made Lord Riverdale take several steps backwards away from him.
When he spoke, the king's words were curt and clipped. “Let me make something clear, Lord Scott Riverdove. I am not asking you to leave, I am ordering you to get out of this bedroom right now, or you will leave in shattered pieces of blood and bones.”
“Y-yes, Your Majesty.” He did not need to be told again. Lord Riverdale ran out of the door like his legs were on fire.
Maybe they were. Smart man.
Tense silence remained after him. King Lucien turned and closed the door behind him. The sound of locks bolting filled the air, shutting the world out. Then he turned and faced a queen whose face was still filled with blatant shock. Bathed in the moonlight in the starry night, these two lovers locked eyes with each other after eight weeks of being apart.
“Blink your eyes, Queen Danika,” he enunciated at last, his voice hoarse.
Tears spilled from her open eyes, and she shook her head. “I am scared to blink and you won't be here. I am scared to blink and find out that it is all a dream. An illusion conjured up by my hungry heart.”
His features softened. A little. “I am not a dream. My clothes are soaked because I rode a carriage to the Mombana palace on a rainy night. Baski might have taken my fur coat, but the rest of my clothing is not so dry.”
“Oh, heavens.” Her eyes darted to his body. Indeed, his expensive surcoat looked wet and plastered to his body. She could see his inner silk tunic. “You're here.”
“I am here.”
Her eyes fluttered close—tears slipped from the lids—and slowly, they opened again. “You are real,” she whispered in awe.
“Your belly is bigger, Queen Danika. My son is growing healthily inside you.”
“Lucien!” With a loud cry, she darted across the bedroom towards him. She wasn't thinking, but instinctively, she trusted him to catch her. He did and he was fast. His hand shot out, holding her to a stop for just a second. Then his arm went around her neck and the other went behind her knees. He was lifting her up and into his arms. Her arms tightened around his neck so tight, her fear of letting go so blatant in the way she clutched him. Her eyes squeezed shut as her lips spewed, “You're here, you're here, you're here, you're here.”
Her reaction to his presence was everything he could never have imagined and more. His anger dissolved like a mist; all his defense crumbled like the fallen great walls. “God, Danika!”
He was kissing her passionately. She kissed him back, matching his passion. In the desperate tangle of the lips of these royal lovers, he walked deeper into her bedroom with her cushioned in his arms.
At the front of the window, he gently lowered her to her feet, breaking the kiss. She clung to him, hugging him so tightly he was forced to push his body backwards to accommodate his child pressing against his lower belly.
“I missed you terribly! I missed you so much! Please, don't let me go! Hold me!” Her heart had taken over her lips completely, and she was crying with happiness as she laid herself bare to him.
“I'm here, Dani. I missed you just as much. Heavens, I missed you so much.” His words were calmer, but his head had gone to rest as hers did.