Chapter Eighty-Three: Extra! Extra! Read All About It!
1491 Words
Rheyes Kerhid Norvig
“With the turmoil in the headquarters, I find it hard to believe the countess is asleep.”
He crossed his arms and stared down at the maroon-haired woman. For as long as he could remember, the woman always seemed to roam around the countess.
“And I am telling you, your highness, the countess is sleeping. Visit during appropriate hours with all due respect.”
He wished to exclaim that she was his, well not his ‘his’, but she was going to be his wife, that he had every right to visit her, but the arrangement was to keep it private until she collected her rewards from the capital.
Rightly so, his father might not react the best to the news.
But this wasn’t so much a visit but a confirmation.
One of the men he had planted on her informed him that he had heard from her servants that she intended to participate in the hidden auction once more. He didn’t discount the information because she had the oddest tendencies of attracting danger, meaning that if he could confirm her whereabouts, it could help with the case he and Mitchelle were about to start.
It especially tied in pleasantly with the raid stirring the city.
Mitchelle was situated near the chaos where she would act as her helper to ensure his child was fine, and he would confirm that she was not home; this is, of course, in the rare case of her having escaped without Mitchelle or his men’s notice.
Getting inside their booked floor was easy thanks to his men; however, beyond that…sir Tagen, a beast who had only watched him from afar, had his sword withdrawn at his presence. The maroon-haired woman stood before the door as though she naturally belonged there.
Their presence annoyed him.
For some reason, he always imagined the Countess alone, which had profoundly suited him.
It meant their intimacies would be his and hers to bear, yet…
Why did she have people ready to oppose royalty at the drop of a hat?
“I just need to confirm the Countess’s whereabouts.”
He said in a tone so harmless he nearly fooled himself.
“While I understand that, you sent no prior notice, your highness, nor is this the right time for a visitation. Please leave.”
Without batting an eye, the maroon-haired woman answered generically once more.
“How dare a mere commoner-!”
His knight blared, but before he could stop him and perhaps withdraw and try another approach, the door to the room the countess’s servants blocked creaked open.
“What the f**k is going on? Do you know what time it is?”
The profanity was unmistakable. It was indeed her.
Had he gotten the wrong tip from his men?
He turned with a frown to the spy he had planted. The spy recoiled under the scrutiny of his glare before blushing.
‘Blushing?’
He turned once more to the countess when he noticed the nature of the garment she wore.
It is nearly impossible to see a noble woman’s sleeping garment, yet she opened the door with no such regal attire but an oversized shirt that held a similar use.
The shirt was so large that it slid carelessly off her slender shoulders. Even with its largeness, it still framed the suppleness of her chest, resting lightly on two twin peaks that he was familiar with their taste.
It, however, was so long that she tied a knot on the top of her thigh, exposing the creaminess of her smooth skin.
How…how could she dress in such a provocative manner when she had male staff around?
“My lord, the first prince requests an audience with you.”
‘My lord?’
‘What is that? No…! How are they treating this as a normal occurrence? Does she dress in such a manner often?’
“Your highness, what is it?”
His thoughts were barely cohesively arranged when she addressed him. Yet to maintain his ground, he needed to answer.
“It is four.”
He found himself speaking without intending, if only because her gaze no longer held its sinful green, but as though matching her livid mood, they seemed to glow.
“Is four in the morning the appropriate time to seek an audience?”
He was aware of the urge to answer this time, so he tried to divert her focus elsewhere.
“Can I not hold concern for a woman carrying what is mine?”
“Grow up.”
The people around him stilled at her quick response, but none was as shocked as he.
“There is a time and place for everything, and it sure as hell is not four a.m. Take your useless mutts with you on your way out. If you want to hold a conversation, do so appropriately. You are the first prince of the nation. I cannot believe you would need my servants to recite basic manners repeatedly for you to grasp basic concepts. Are you not embarrassed?”
“You, Tagen. Escort them out. Breca, go to bed. So f**cking annoying.”
The countess slammed her door shut, leaving the entire room stunned.
Fierce laughter erupted from his throat after around twenty seconds of uncomfortable stares.
“The countess is…not a morning person.”
The maroon-haired woman spoke first, then turned to the knight.
“I will escort you, Your Highness.”
There was no apology or explanation, merely a flimsy excuse that did not even sound true and an overly willing dog trying to kick him out.
A strong sense of defiance claimed him.
He would stay here, in this very room, if he had to buy the entire resort.
“Both of you are dismissed.”
He said to his knights, then stripped his coat and tossed it casually to the knight's face to block out the sight of his ugly smirk, as though he had anticipated the countess’s response.
‘Seriously…annoying.’
“Find me an empty bed.”
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Arusei Evergreen
“Is there a reason you are in my suite?”
“Is there a reason the three of you have on matching tracksuits?”
“We are going jogging. Your turn.”
I slammed the refrigerator door shut as I answered to show how displeased by his presence I was, but the action was quickly brushed off with another of his non-stop questions.
“Did you lie to my men to test if they were spies?”
“Your highness-,”
“You have more than enough reasons to call me by my name.”
“Your Highness,”
I emphasised.
“I don’t have time for you today. We agreed to meet tomorrow evening, so why not follow the schedule? Or is this more? Is my time the thing that you do not respect?”
He stood from the barstool on the kitchen island and walked round to where I stood.
Sir. Tagen, for whatever reason, gripped the hilt of his sword.
“At ease, Tagen. The prince will not harm me.”
‘If only because I am with his child.’
Knowing that, I stood my ground, even once he wrapped his hands lightly around my waist and forced me to meet the intensity of his gaze.
‘It should be a crime to be this handsome.’
Everywhere his hands grazed...burned. A similar feeling to his touch in the elevator.
‘Gods! How infuriating!’
After our usual morning training session, Breca, Alivai, my new friend, and I were going to shop for s*x toys. Just anything to rid me of this dangerous feeling.
‘How dare he carelessly interrupt my plans?’
I pushed his frame off me, but the prince did not let up.
“How sure are you that I mean you no harm?”
The prince whispered the words playfully.
The same way he teased those he considered enemies in-game, does that mean I am one of them?
Still, there was something in his gaze the moment he found out the s*x of the baby. Perhaps I imagined it, but he would not hurt me, at least not now. Who is to say the same for later once Regina finds a way to become part of my life.
“Oh, paper is here!!”
Breca chirped purposefully to clear the tense atmosphere in the room.
I pushed the prince off me once more. This time, he budged; If only because his gaze was on the paper Breca waved around as she walked to the open-concept living room.
“Frontpage news?”
I asked once she settled on the lounge chair with an apple.
“Hmmm, more like a front-page scandal. The fourth princes’ fiancée, Lady Regina Alpensa, the capital’s angel, was photographed kissing the Elven prince, his highness, Finor Sylra.”
“What?”
Both the prince and I exclaimed.
- Writer
