Chapter 27

Flora

“How do I look?” I ask as I wipe Callum’s spend off my chin, knowing full well that Sable will have to redo my makeup.

“Like a drunken honeybee who’s had more than her fill,” Callum says with a rakish smile, putting his cock away, much to my chagrin.

I narrow my eyes at him as he fusses with his zipper. “I’ll be the one who decides when I’ve had my fill.”

In an instant, the gamekeeper snatches me around the waist and covers my sore mouth in a kiss. “Gravenland’s insatiable queen,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Not yet queen,” I remind him, once again feeling the twinge of desire between my legs.

His tongue licks over my chapped lips. “You will be in about five minutes.”

I roll my eyes. “Five minutes? These things take forever.”

“Ah,” he croons, smoothing my mussed hair away from my face, “every moment feels insufferably long when I’m not between your legs.”

I love it when he talks to me like this. He presses a kiss to my cheekbone and adds, “Or nine inches down your throat.”

Another kiss lands on my opposite cheek and I feel myself swooning. “Metric measurements only, please,” I tease him.

“Is that your first royal decree, my queen?”

I playfully shove at him so I can check my look in the mirror. He stands behind me, tracing kisses along my collarbone.

Sable went for full glam, appropriate for the occasion, and I know I must be an absolute mess now.

I pout at Callum in the mirror. “I wish you’d have let me marry you before I take the throne.”

He blows out a noisy sigh and runs the tips of his fingers over my throat. “Jakob suggested this, and I wholeheartedly agree. And so do the rest of your brothers. Making you queen before you choose a husband symbolizes a new era in the kingdom.”

My full weight rests against his sturdy frame, and I go limp. Callum chuckles and wraps me up in a hug, crushing the layers of silk and chiffon in his embrace.

“Symbolism is all well and good, but what about me finally being ready to shout from the rooftops that you’re mine, Callum?”

“Soon enough,” he says. “Now it’s time to get your crown.”

“Hmm,” is my wrung-out response. Seeing Callum in this fine, tailored suit did something to me. It was like someone flipped a switch and I fell to my knees. Give my secret lover a quick blowjob minutes before my coronation? Don’t mind if I do!

The kingdom can wait while I revel in this hug. Sweet Callum gives the best hugs in the world.

He gives the best everything.

He’s been my brother’s best friend since he was small, and I’ve loved him since the day we met. There’s never been anyone else for me.

And there never will be.

As soon as I have that crown on my head, and I make a few executive changes to some silly, antiquated rules about who a princess is allowed to marry, I will finally talk with my mother about Callum.

And then we’ll announce the date.

This wedding is going to outdo all of them. It will be the biggest party this tiny country has ever seen. They’ll photograph it from space.

I’m startled out of my daydream when Sable knocks on the door: two sets of four short raps, and if you use your imagination, it sounds like the introduction to Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.

“Come in,” I say, not letting Callum release me from his arms yet.

The door opens and shuts quickly behind me.

“Your Highness,” Sable says, clearing her throat.

“Yes, Sable?”

“Uther asked me to come and fetch you. He is to escort you to the chapel.”

A sly grin pulls at my lips, and I finally let go of Callum and turn to my longtime friend and stylist. “Uther, you say?” I tease. Sable and Uther have been eyeing each other for some time now and I have been waiting for her to give me updates. Something has shifted between them, but she won’t spill the tea. I am dying to know.

But I’m not going to get the tea today, am I? No, Sable’s calm countenance turns horrified when she sees me.

“Princess! Your lipstick!”

Behind me, Callum scoffs and mutters, “I ruined more than the princess’s lipstick, I’ll have you know.”

Sable blinks. “I don’t want to know.”

The only soul who knows about us is less than pleased with me and fixes my makeup quickly. “Gods, I can’t wait for you two to go public so I can finally share moments like this with my therapist.”

“What about professional confidentiality?” I ask.

She pauses, a blending brush poised in mid-air, and gapes at me. “Are you serious, Your Highness?”

Sable’s right. I know better than to think any therapist would be able to keep that secret. It’s too, too juicy.

When she finishes with my face, I grab her hand. “Princess? Is something the matter?”

There’s so much I want to say, but there’s no time. I was supposed to be crowned ten minutes ago. “Just, thank you. For everything.”

Callum’s rough hand squeezes my silk-covered shoulder from behind.

“Think nothing of it. I have nothing to complain about; you’ve been my dearest friend,” Sable says, her eyes brimming. “And I cannot wait to call you Your Majesty.”

I want to hug her, but she swats away Callum’s hand and squints at him. “Could you please try to keep your hands to yourself until afterward? Everyone is waiting. They all think she’s fainted again like she did at the almost-wedding of Sigurd and Stasi. Everyone is going to think she’s ill.”

Callum holds up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “She attacked me.”

“And whose fault is that? Honestly what are you doing in the princess’s dressing room?”

Callum smirks and puffs out his chest, feeling the lapels of his bespoke suit coat. “The fault lies entirely with you, Madame. You made me look irresistible in this getup.”

Laughing, I turn back to Sable. “It’s true!”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she says, pointing at Callum and ushering me toward the door. “Now go out a side door or climb out the window, or whatever it is you do, gamekeeper, before Uther sees you and skins you alive.”

He chuckles as he escapes into a wardrobe and closes the door. Sable opens the door and smiles up at Uther. He’s so hard to read but I do detect a flash in his eyes when he looks down at her, and his pupils dilate.

I hand Uther my phone for safekeeping, take his offered arm, and we’re off.

And then it hits me. I’m about to be queen.

Holy hell, what have I done?