Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Three Kings

Loren

As Loren approached, the sergeant at the doors, and the four other soldiers besides, saluted smartly before he moved, opened one of the double doors, and Loren strode into the room.

The Royal Suite at The Heritage took up an entire floor.

And it looked like the sitting room of the suite took half it.

“I’m now seeing why you refused to stay with Father and me,” Loren drawled as Tor, standing at one of several arrangements of sofas, turned his gaze in Loren’s direction.

Cora jumped from one of the settees and moved directly to Loren.

“Lore, you devil, you’re getting married?”

He shifted his attention to his king and lifted his eyebrow.

“I left it as a surprise,” Tor explained. “My queen has less patience than I do with my nobles making arses of themselves. She didn’t want to come. She arrived and received a reward. Now, she’s pleased she’s here.”

As he explained this, Cora made it to him, and he fell into a deep bow, knowing what response that would get.

“Oh my God, stop it,” she complained.

But he was struck.

He’d heard that before.

Oh my God.

Singular.

He’d heard his queen say it.

And in the beginning when he met her, he’d heard it from Satrine.

Something vague but strange started to plague his stomach.

He ignored it as he bent to kiss Cora’s cheek, and when he was done, Tor was there.

He didn’t bother with the bow, teasing or not. He just shook his hand.

And gave his attention to the other people in the room.

Two, he knew, and he did another quick bow to the blonde, but took the hand of the dark giant who stood at her side, and he shook it.

“Dax Lahn,” he greeted. “Dahksana Circe,” he said to the Dax’s queen.

“Good to see you again, Loren,” Circe said.

“You’re well?” Lahn asked.

He nodded.

“You’ve made a long journey,” he noted, and they had. All the way up from their kingdom of Korwahk in the Southlands. A journey that took at least three months.

“My Circe misses her friend,” Lahn explained, pulling his wife close.

Lahn likely missed his friend too.

Loren smiled, finally understanding these matches that came in a variety of ways, and proved not only enduring, but unshakeable (Lahn and Circe’s the most unusual), and it wasn’t love that forged them.

Yet it absolutely was.

He turned to the last two people in the room.

“I’m not sure you’ve met,” Tor said, as Loren took in the tall, straight, handsome man who, at one glance, he knew was like Loren, a soldier, and the dark, striking beauty with him. “This is King True of Wodell, and his queen, Farah.”

Loren bowed.

“We know who you are,” the king from across the Green Sea stated. “And what you’ve accomplished. I am a brother, sir,” he confirmed what Loren had surmised. “Do not bow.”

Loren straightened, his gaze moving to Tor briefly, he got a nod, then he looked back to True.

“It’s still an honor to meet”—he took in Farah with his gaze—“two of the warriors who defeated the Beast.”

“Wish we knew all it would take was pushing the monster—” Lahn began.

He stopped when Circe turned and slapped his arm, hissing, “Lahn, there was no ‘all it would take’ in that heartbreaking situation.”

A string of words came from Lahn, calm, gentle, sounding like song, and since Loren didn’t speak Korwahkian, he had no idea what the king was saying.

But it made his queen appear less cross.

Tor caught his attention, asking, “And where is your future bride? We’re keen to meet her.”

“This is an excellent question,” Loren replied testily.

Tor’s eyebrows went up.

It was nearly a fortnight after her fit in his arms in his rooms.

Not including the fit, obviously, it had been the finest two weeks of his life, and this was quite a claim, considering his father gave him a wonderful childhood, regardless of what they two had lost.

Openness, honesty, sharing, outings with her family, meals together just them alone, and Satrine in his bed at night suited them both.

Magnificently.

They were not inseparable. He had things to do. And she had a wedding to put the finishing touches on.

Also, she and her mother had to make plans for travel to Dalwin for said wedding, a wedding after which Satrine would be with him wherever they landed, so she had to be prepared for it.

She was further embroiled with her mother and Mary in some renovations they were seeing to in the cellar, not to mention restyling Corliss, Maxine and Mary’s rooms (Mary had decided to stay indefinitely, which, considering she was nosy, meddling and a widow who lived alone, but now had family she cared deeply for that she could order about, was not a surprise).

And last, Satrine had begun a strangely intent, but not surprising project of learning the history and anything else she could devour about the Vale, the Northlands, indeed all the lands. As such, she often had her nose in a book, and she read the newspaper front to back every morning.

In other words, his bride was even more busy than he.

That said, when she was with him, she was with him. It seemed she’d made it her mission to cause him to laugh often, urge him to share every nuance of his life (or those he could share), and she had a particular skill in making him climax as hard as he could orgasm.

This was unsurprising too, considering her vow to see to him, never to leave him, never to let him lose his hold on all things good.

She was that, top to toe to bones to soul.

Good.

As such, he had completed the journey to falling in love with her.

It was now simply a matter, day by day, of finding ways to love her more, an endeavor that was far from a struggle.

His only concern was, of late, he’d noted Satrine seemed to be getting anxious. She tried to hide it, but this anxiety was such, she couldn’t.

This, he knew, was due to her father’s upcoming trial, and regrettably, all Loren could do in the face of that was be steady for her and her mother, until it was over, which fortunately would be soon.

But he, too, had saved Tor and Cora’s imminent arrival as a treat for her, even if she knew they were coming, as her father’s trial was the day after tomorrow.

However, when he went to collect her to give her the surprise, she was not there, and it seemed no one knew where she was.

Corliss did not appear concerned about this and shared, “As you know, Lorie, she wanders. When you’re not around, she likes to read in the park. And she knows Carling is partial to that fudge from the candy store, so when he runs out, she always heads off to get a new supply. And right now, I think he’s out.”

One of the many pleasing things about his wife-to-be was that she was a busy woman who had many pursuits.

And he suspected, even more strongly now, that she was up to something in regards to his father’s birthday, for she had very poorly maneuvered Maxie asking everyone at the table after their favorite pies three nights before when they all shared dinner.

This being something they’d need to know so his father would have his preferred birthday pie.

The problem with this was that Loren had been commanded to meet his king and queen, and bring her with him, and he couldn’t wait for her nor did he have the time to look for her, so now he was there…without her.

“You know her story,” he said low to Tor.

There was a change in the mood of the room, and with it, Loren knew everyone in it knew her story.

Then again, if they all attended the trial, they’d learn it, and considering the story, it was better they were forewarned.

“She’s finally free and she tends to go about enjoying that to the fullest,” he explained.

“I think I’m going to like her,” Cora decreed.

“I know you will,” Loren told her. “She’s the most likeable woman I’ve ever met.”

Cora’s eyes lit and her mouth curled up.

“Is she, indeed?” she murmured delightedly.

“She is,” he answered firmly.

Cora gave eyes to Circe, then Farah.

But Loren looked to Lahn. “It’s good to see you,” then to True, “and meet you.” He returned his focus to Tor. “But may I ask why they’re here?”

“All is well,” Tor assured calmly. “Just visits. We haven’t seen True and Farah in some time and it was Lahn and Circe’s turn to come up.”

“And Hayden and Leighton and Devon?” he asked after the realm’s two princes and princess.

“Hayden’s regiment is stationed on the northeast coast. He’ll be granted leave to attend your wedding. Devon is at school, but will be leaving soon, also to journey in order to attend your wedding. And Leighton is undoubtedly testing the efficacy of pennyrium as he beds the maids in Karsvall while training with Apollo in the House of Ulfr’s seat. I’m afraid he’s too far away to return in time for your wedding.”

“I wish I could refute this about Leighton, but sadly, I’ve birthed a rake,” Cora grumbled. “That said, he’s half Tor’s, so it really comes as no surprise.”

Everyone laughed, except Tor, who looked at the ceiling.

Loren laughed as well.

However, he did being reminded about pennyrium, wondering if Corliss had already taken care of that for Satrine.

The time was nigh for them finally to consummate their relationship. The stitches were probably not ready to be cut out for a couple of days, but the pain was all but gone.

And he could be creative, but his fiancée’s libido rivaled his own. As splendid as his creativity was, and her response to it, it now carried a vein of frustration.

It was time to give them both what they desired.

Loren looked forward with great relish to them having a family.

But in the now, he looked forward to practicing, copiously, making that family.

She needed to be taking pennyrium, which would guard against pregnancy, until they decided they were ready.

He’d be certain to make sure all was well with that and made a mental note to do it tonight.

“Hopefully, she’ll be found before dinner. We look forward to meeting her,” Circe put in.

“That is my hope as well, Your Majesty,” he replied, just as the door opened.

They all turned to it.

Marlow strode in, only two feet, and he stopped.

“Tor,” he said. Then, “Cora, would that I had found you first. I would have made you far happier than this tall, dark lout.”

Cora giggled.

Tor let out an audible sigh but said nothing, as he knew well this was Marlow’s way.

“Royals all,” he greeted casually, then his gaze hit Loren. “I’m afraid I must steal you.”

“Marlow, come in and meet the king of Wodell and his queen,” Tor bid.

“My most fervent wish,” Marlow replied to them. “But I’m afraid a game is afoot and at this moment, Lore’s fiancée, her houseman, and one of their grooms, who is large, but I fear that’s all he has going for him, are meeting with some ruffians in an alley not too far from here. And I’m afraid they’re going to need rescue.”

Fury seized his head while something else took hold of his heart.

“What?” Loren barked, striding toward his friend.

“Search me,” Marlow replied. “They thought they were being clever, and that they’d lost their guard. They did not and he sent word to me. Further word shares this might be about a certain madam. In short, we must be away.”

Loren had a strong suspicion Satrine and Carling touching the sides of their noses had not been about birthdays.

However, as necessity demanded, they’d added that machination along the way.

Loren was at the door with Marlow when he pivoted to bow to those who occupied the room, and nearly ran into Tor.

“Tor, what the—?” he started.

“I think, since Lahn and True followed me, we’re all feeling the need for some adventure.”

“Of course they are,” Farah remarked.

“Horses, sergeant,” Tor ordered.

The guard at the door started sprinting.

“A certain madam?” Tor asked as they marched to the stairs. “The one involved in that extortion business you shut down?”

By the gods.

How had he forgotten?

Satrinehad said, “We need to defuse her.”

We.

“I may not have mentioned my affianced is spirited,” he said by way of reply.

Lahn emitted an amused, approving grunt.

They all ignored the attention they received as they jogged past patrons and staff at the hotel.

Their horses were waiting for them at the front doors.

They swung up and followed Marlow’s lead.

But Loren came abreast of him.

“You deal with the others, I’ll be seeing to Satrine.”

Marlow grinned, then bent over his horse, dug his heels in, and expertly navigated his galloping mount through the busy streets.

Loren did the same.

And three kings behind them did the same.