I loved the way her breasts lay on her chest. I drew my finger along the bottom of one, the soft flesh yielding, but firmly rebounding. I continued under the other, and caught her smile out of the corner of my eye. I looked at her untidy brown curls splayed on the pillow. Her eyes were on mine, soft love had replaced the fiery passion of only moments ago. Dimples formed on her cheeks as her smile grew. The dim light from the dying embers in the hearth gave her a serenity that warmed me greatly. It was these moments I cherished, when our desires were sated and all that was left was a blanket of love.
"I will miss this, my Lord," Alia whispered. I flopped down onto my pillow, the mood broken by thoughts I wished would disappear. She rose on her elbow, her smile gone. "You must send me away."
"I do not wish to think upon it," I responded. Duty demanded that I did; my heart demanded that I did not. I looked back at Alia's angelic face. Her eyes were forlorn and her moist lips so inviting. A comedy of pain and pleasure, the cradle of my desire. "I will find a way." Her hand glided across my chest, igniting my soul and begging me to ignore my lineage. A life without her was unthinkable.
"There is no other way, my Lord," Alia insisted. I hated the honorific on her lips. She was merged to my life, not the chambermaid she played at during the day.
"Just tonight, can you call me Cayden?" I knew Alia's answer before I spoke. It was a futile request. She would never risk the practice. An inadvertent slip of the tongue outside the bedchamber would cause too much strife. She leaned into me, her lips touching mine. Lips that could melt away any worriment. How could I send her away? Gods! I must find a way.
"No, my Lord, I will not." Alia had kissed me first to soften the denial. I could have her imprisoned for denying the crown prince. I flirted with the idea, her in chains awaiting my pleasure. It passed quickly. I pulled her atop me and our tongues joined and passion grew again. "My Lord is not done with me," she quipped while reaching between my legs to stroke my fire anew.
"I will never be done," I said firmly. I was not sure Alia understood my love or my conviction. I was always worried she considered herself my play thing, just a dalliance until something better came along. "You are my heart, my love."
Her constant rejections and the night she finally surrendered. I gave her my heart that night and she never gave it back. I wanted no one else. My birthright, however, demanded another.
Alia raised her hips and guided me into her. The warmth of heaven engulfed me, forcing the breath from my chest. She settled herself onto my hips and her eyes welled. I could see the love written on her face, in the forming tears. I reached up and tenderly wiped away the tear that was threatening to travel down her cheek. She collapsed onto me, burying her head into my shoulder to hide more tears. I wrapped my arms around her and felt the shuddering as she breathed.
"I love you too, Cayden," Alia whispered. My eyes welled at the name I thought she would never utter. I knew then she believed it would be the last time we would hold each other. I prayed it would not. We lay coupled, grieving for what was to change. I could not promise it would not change, my life not wholly my own. I kissed her ear and then her neck and we made love slowly, hoping beyond hope this would not be the end, but knowing it may be. I had to find a way.
*****
"Sire!" I heard an insistent pounding at the door. "His majesty comes, Sire!" My mind awakened quickly. I looked around the bed and Alia was already gone. I was both relieved and disappointed. Perhaps, if my father would find us, I could demand love over duty. I sighed and grabbed my robe, a huge ugly thing made to warm an elephant. I had no idea why I needed to look regal in my own chamber.
"I am awakened," I called. Lucius burst into the room with a harried look. "She is gone," I added quietly. His pace slowed and he nodded as he began to straighten the bed. Lucius, my steward, my friend and the one I trusted after Alia herself. He did not speak knowing what day it was. He knew my thoughts and respected my pain.
"Gods! Boy! The lead riders have already arrived," my father's booming voice echoed louder in my head. Of course he was dressed, the sun was peaking above the horizon and the king never wasted daylight. He was wearing a plain red tunic that reached to his knees, but would be impressive under the fancy doublet he would add later. I could tell his beard and hair had been recently trimmed. Some gray continued to fester under his chin, but he wore it with a distinguished grace. I hoped to emulate his bearing, someday. I saw his nose wrinkle and knew I should have woken earlier and aired the chamber. He saw nothing, but he knew what it was that he smelled.
"Bathe quickly," the king instructed cursedly, "you would do well not to insult your new bride." He paced closer, his eyes narrowed. "Your actions now represent a kingdom. Everything you do will be measured. I will present a future king, not a brooding child." I stood my ground as a future king should. My father's love rarely rose above duty. He expected the same from me. I took a deep breath. My mind raced through a series of childish responses and declarations of love. I settled on duty.
