The King

b3atris.b4rrientos@g*******m

   The King

Prologue

The king is dead. My husband is gone. The one man I have ever been with, the only person that I have ever trusted, just has much as he trusted me. He was so young, twenty- three, and at twenty, a widow. What a pair we make.

A bullet pierced his heart, as he lay next to me, our hands locked together. He made no sound, felt no pain, that he left to me. One bullet through his heart another through my leg, pain more shocking than hurt, but a welcome distraction. Within seconds of the bullet piercing my leg, guard surround us and rush me inside, carrying his limp body after securing me.

I miss him. The only person that I never loved that way I should have, and still should.

Chapter 1 : Marry me?

“So, tell me again why you said no,'' he sighs before looking over to me. 

“Luke, I said no because I don’t love you that way, you don’t love me and I am your bodyguard not your equal” I say for the millionth time in a week. 

Crown Prince Luke Adler of the Atlantic Continent, ask me to marry him a week ago. We were leaving one of his many in-training councils meetings. He was tired, and to be honest, even I was feeling the strain of those boring three-hour periods. King Jonathan dismissed the council and gave Prince Luke the rest of the day off. 

Laughing a little he looks over at me, standing by a window, my hand resting lightly on the royal blue hilt of my sword, “Now those are not valid reasons”. 

“And why not? They are all true and you know it.”

“Well, because I'm a prince, marrying out of love was never going to happen, and you may be my guard but are certainly equals”, he says has he strolls over to me, placing both hands on my shoulders, “ and you could say yes, and save both of us the trouble of having to marry strangers. You know, even if you are a guard, if your parents see if necessary, they will marry you off”.

“And that, too, will be my duty to carry out, as is yours to marry a princess in the hope of uniting two nations. How many times do we have to go through this, Luke?”, I breath out.

Making me face him, he takes my hand, the one that was resting on my sword, “Until you agree. Tell me, would it really be so bad to marry someone you care for and cares for you, even if not love?” Luke has always been really good at making me feel guilty.

“Look Luke, more than just your bodyguard, I’m your friend, and I always made very clear my views and more importantly, you know my faith. If I marry you, there is no divorce for me, there will only ever be you, until death do us part. That is not I am willing to risk”.

When I finish, I realize that he has a devilish look on his face. I have seen this face before, it’s the face me makes when he is planning, that face is what tells me will make a great king. “So, your saying if I can prove that it is something that has to happen or there are more pros than cons, you’ll do it?”

I take a second to realize what he said, “I never said- “but he cuts me off running out the door, which, of course, means I have to run after him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why is Luke so impulsive, sometimes”? I think that night, in my bed room. More than that, how can he think it is okay to marry me, when his parents, the King and Queen of the Atlantic Continent, have already made that choice. She is on her way here now. In fact, she should be here by late tomorrow night, why his sudden opposition to this marriage? 

That boy, just really makes me want to let an assassin get him sometimes, “If I didn’t enjoy my job so much,'' I mutter under my breath.

I keep mumbling under by breath as I get ready for bed, I’m already in a pair of pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt, when the siren goes off. Trespassers, in the palace, Prince Luke! I shoot out of bed, grab my sword from my closet and run as fast as my short legs can, towards the Prince’s bedroom. When I get there, he is already waiting for me by the door, sword in hand, a small look of relief on his face when he sees me. 

“Are you okay”? I ask between breaths.

He winks at me, “Of course, with you here, what could go wrong”. 

I grab his arm start walking fast towards the safe room closest to his bedroom, my sword at the ready at the front, his at the back. We can get there in five minutes, if we don’t run into anyone. If, with Prince Luke’s life in my hands, I need a big if to happen. 

One more turn to make… a crash and I see a palace guard stumble into view, blood staining the front of his white jacket, growing bigger. Great, they are blocking our entrance. 

I pull Prince Luke to the side and into a doorway, “Stay here, I come get you when it’s clear. If anyone you don’t know appears, use your sword, alright?” 

Aww, sweet Caroline, I taught you to fight, remember? I’ve got this. You just be careful, don’t get hurt” he answers becoming serious.

I give him a reassuring smile, “Me, get hurt. What is hurt?” And with that I unsheathe my sword, leaving him there.

There is always so much blood, and right now it’s my own. One of the invaders got me just below the rib cage. Not enough to kill me but enough to slow me down, “God, this hurt, but, please, just help me get him to safety, then do your will. Please.” That is my prayer as I make my way back to Prince Luke. I find him where I left him, with the difference of a body lying not too far from him, “I just knocked him out, we should go,'' his eyes land on my injury and he turns white, “Did I not tell you to not get hurt? What happened? No, don’t tell me, let’s get to the safe room.” His voice was serious, almost angry.

The path now clear, we get there without problems, my injury slowing us down. The door is behind a painting of the royal family, a small latch under the table next to it, we are inside in seconds. 

When the door is closed, and I can hear the lock falling into place, I fall with it, dropping my sword. The pain hit me like a ton of bricks, too overwhelming to ignore, now that the adrenaline is gone. Luke is at my side before I hit the floor. The look on his face is haunted, like when he can’t seem to solve a problem.

I take a shaky breath,” Hey, I’ll be okay.” I pause to catch my breath,” Get the medkit, under the sink.”

Before helping me lay down, he spreads a towel on the ground, a small layer of comfort for my bare legs. He helps clean and wrap it up the gash. When I go to get up, he pulls me back down, “Stay down, if someone comes then get up, until then,” he finishes the thought by making me lie back, my head on his lap, knowing me, he puts me sheathed sword next to me, an inch from my hand. I smile, grateful he is here, and without realizing it, drift off to sleep.