Chapter 7

Flora

Things are changing with Callum.

I haven’t seen him in a few days and miss him. Down deep in my core, I yearn for him.

As for Callum, he’s becoming hungrier.

I seek out every chance for a stolen minute or two with the boy, thanks in no small part to the addition of my annoying new shadow, the be-kilted Uther Nancarrow.

The man takes his job seriously on and off of the palace grounds.

“Where can I escort you, Your Highness?” Uther asks me this morning when I’m supposed to be meeting Callum at his cottage for a hike.

I grunt as I tie my shoes, then smile at my bodyguard innocently. “I’m going for a run. Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving the palace grounds.”

Hopefully my stretchy athletic pants and messy bun help convince him that all I plan to do is exercise. This doesn’t seem to matter to him. “Then I’ll join you. I could use a run.”

Shit.

If I protest too much, it’ll look suspicious. I’ve heard stories that bodyguards are supposed to sign an NDA and that any activities I get up to on their watch are a secret if it’s not happening in public. I wonder if I can trust this man with the knowledge of my relationship. Then I remember that he’s on Mother’s payroll and in her eyes, I’m still a child.

“Okay, sure, you can join me on my run. Let’s go.”

Here’s the thing: why did I pretend I’m going for a run? I hate running as a healthy activity. I love running to and from my rendezvous with Callum. I’m so pent up with energy on both ends of our visits together that running is the only way to get it out. Also, I’m usually late for something because our makeout sessions are getting longer and needier.

The previous security detail largely left me alone while I was on the palace grounds. They weren’t exactly the athletic type, and they had all more or less inherited the job, handed down through generations.

Uther is fast for a big dude. This is a problem. There’s no way for me to ditch him.

Unless …

I carry on with this pretending-to-run-for-good-health charade for another quarter of a kilometer, enough to be believable, before I play the only card I have.

“Surprised you’re not running in your kilt. I’ve never seen you out of it,” I say.

“The kilt is strictly dress uniform.”

“Too bad, because all the girls love it,” I say with a chuckle.

“Pardon me, Your Highness?”

“Come on, Uther. You’ve seen the way the staff looks at you.”

“Apologies, Your Highness. I have not. My sole job is to?—”

“Yes, yes, I know. To look after the queen and myself. But please tell me you know what the royal watchers are saying about you on social media.”

“I do not, Your Highness.”

“Hold on, hold on, stop right here a minute.”

We’re less than halfway to Callum’s cottage when I pause my running to dig my phone from my pocket. “Don’t trouble yourself, Your Highness.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble,” I say, pulling up Instagram and scrolling through all manner of thirst posts about my brothers, which make me want to barf. Finally, there’s one about Uther.

I show him a famous meme of a guy on a date with roaming eyes checking out another girl.

“See?” I show him.

He looks confused. “I don’t get memes. Why is my name on that woman?”

Poor soul. “The first woman is my brother, and the man is the influencer who gets distracted by a new person. That’s you.”

“I don’t get it.”

What a frustratingly obtuse man.

“You know what, hold on, I’ll find something less esoteric.”

I finally hit on a video of Uther in his full dress, holding the queen’s handbag while she gives a speech. The wind blows his kilt up enough to expose one thigh for a microsecond. The comments under the video are outrageous. Obviously.

“See?”

His face takes on a look of horror. “What does it mean that this woman wants me to rearrange her guts?”

Oh no. I’ve thrown him into the deep end, and it’s not funny. I snatch my phone back. “You know what? I’m gonna let you ask Sable that question. She’s better at explaining things like that.”

Uther looks as if I’ve suggested he ask Satan. “Sable?”

His face turns red. So, he’s shy, is he? I can use that to my advantage.

“Um, listen, Uther. Sorry to change the subject but I have to pee.”

“I will escort you back to the palace.”

“No need. There’s some rocks over here, I’ll go behind them.”

“Princess, I have to warn you, it’s not safe to void your bladder while?—”

“Back in a minute!”

Behind me, he grumbles, but he does not protest any further.

Like a stray cat in heat, I slip off down to Callum’s cottage.

I practically burst through the door.

“Callum!”

To my embarrassment, it’s not Callum who greets me, but Mr. Black.

“Your Highness,” he says with a brief nod.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Callum said—” I stop cold. Oh gods, I’m about to reveal my secret. My face turns crimson as I correct myself. “I mean, Sigurd is here, isn’t he? Rolf was going to send for him…”

I’m terrible at lying.

Mr. Black gives me a signature wink. “Rolf and Sigurd just left.”

“Oh,” I say sheepishly.

“Apparently a letter arrived at the palace that Sigurd needed to discuss with the king immediately.”

Now, I’m curious. “How do you know that?”

“Because Callum got one as well.”

Mr. Black doesn’t look like himself. Apart from his dancing eyes, he looks sad. Tired, too.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Black?”

“Grand,” he says, then turns away to pour water into the kettle. He doesn’t offer me a tea, though.

With his back turned to me, he says, “Callum is out in the stables. He’ll want to tell you himself.”

I thank him, then sprint down the hill to the stables.

To my relief, Callum smiles when he sees me coming down the hill. Away from watchful eyes, he picks me up and spins me around at the stable door, kissing me hard as I laugh.

“I’m so glad you seem fine. Your dad was acting very cagey about some letter.”

He carries me past a row of stalls, past the ill-tempered Jacqueline in her stall, who whinnies as we pass by.

I circle my arms around Callum’s neck and kiss him as we pass the enclosure where our little “son” Jasper once lived until Callum determined he could live alone in the woods.

Callum refuses to set me down until we reach the tack room, where he gently places me on the work table.

“Did you bring me here for tea and sandwiches?”

When he gives me a curious look, I tell him about the time his father seemed to be fond of Nanny, entertaining her in the tack room with tea and sandwiches while Callum and I went exploring in that awful cave.

He kisses me then says, “I brought you here for neither tea…” His hands hike up my shirt, exploring my bare skin. I reach back and tug my shirt off. The playful twinkle in his eye turns into something darker, making me shiver.

“…nor sandwiches.”

My nipples harden as Callum’s hands continue exploring, brushing over those hard buds that ache for skin-to-skin contact.

With our eyes locked together, I unzip the front of my running bra. His expression hardens into something I’ve never seen on him before—a bone-deep hunger. Pure primal need shadows his eyes.

“Look at my girl. What a sight you are.”

I’m still shivering when Callum takes one nipple into his mouth, his hand stroking the opposite breast. His other hand continues exploring me everywhere, cupping my ass, squeezing my fleshy thighs, claiming my heated center.

“Callum,” I moan.

“My little fawn.”

His words shift something deep inside me and I feel my need for him rising. My body begs to feel him move over me. Inside me.

“I need you,” I whisper.

“I’m right here.” His voice deepens as his hand travels over my stomach, his lips and tongue still worshiping my breasts.

We’ve talked about sex plenty of times. Callum never pushes me. He always lets me set the pace. Today, I feel different.

“I’m ready,” I say, reaching my arms around him as I lie back until I’m prone on the work table, taking him with me.

He lifts his head to look in my eyes. “Don’t say that unless you mean it, Flora.”

“When have I ever said something I didn’t mean? I’m serious. What I’m trying to tell you is I’m on birth control now. So I’m really ready.”

He stares at me so lovingly for a long moment, brushing my hair with his big, tender hands.

“I’m enlisting, Flora.”

I blink up at him, studying his face for more clues. “You’re what?”

“Sigurd and I both enlisted in the Royal Infantry. That was the letter notifying us of where we are supposed to report next week. I thought he told you. We’re going to apply to the ranger program together.”

Sigurd told me nothing. Sigurd confides in no one, not even his favorite sibling.

I sit up, and he hands me my shirt.

“Are you upset I’m joining the military, Flora?”

How could I be upset about that? He’s following in his father’s footsteps. Sigurd is following Mr. Black’s footsteps, too. And why wouldn’t he? Mr. Black is more of a father to Sigurd than the king.

“I’ve had the wind knocked out of me, that’s all,” I say, smiling bravely.

“I’m sorry, Flora. But it’s time. It’s something I have to do. I can’t simply sit around and wait to become the man you need me to be. I need to make something of myself.”

His words cut me, though I know in my head they shouldn’t.

“You’re already a decent, kind, wonderful man, Callum.”

He looks me deep in the eyes as he cups my face. “But not enough for you to want to stand in front of the king with me, hand in hand, announcing to the world what we mean to each other.”

My heart shatters, but I know he’s right.

I throw my arms around his neck. “I’m going to miss our interludes,” I tell him.

He squeezes me close. “I’m going to miss everything about you.”