The King's Sweet Tooth

Chapter 4

Draven left his meeting in fiery fucking fury. He sent his hand through the wall with one violent punch, and even that did not help.

He headed down the hall, cursing as he went.

"Someone's angry," Lynetta said, startling Draven so badly that he nearly jumped a few feet.

He stalled at the sight of her, not expecting her to be here. She said she wouldn't be delivering until Tuesday.

His anger was still brewing.

"You will address me properly, Lynetta," he growled. "Why are you all the way back here? Deliveries stay up front."

She pursed her lips, dropping into a half assed curtsy before straightening.

"I figured you were in need of a cinnamon roll, and now I know that I was right. They are still warm." She offered him the box, which he accepted hesitantly. She did not seem the least bit fazed by him or his temper.

"I apologize for being so brash," Draven told her, trying to keep his voice soft. He felt like an asshole, especially when he remembered the fact that he wanted to get to know her - hence the personal delivery.

"That's okay, King Draven. I know you have a lot going on. I didn't mean to intrude."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nonsense. It has been a long day. Can you spare a minute and share one of these with me?"

It seemed like she was going to refuse. Instead, she nodded.

It felt weird to have personal company. He tried not to get his hopes up. She was just doing her job. She wasn't there to see him. A part of him wanted her to be.

He led her to the kitchen where he found some plates and some silverware.

"Let me show you my favorite place, " he told her. She smiled, and he relaxed.

His favorite place was a large glass wall in the Great Room that overlooked his massive gardens. This time of year everything was brown and snow covered, but he enjoyed the spot all the same.

There was a bench in front of the glass and they took a seat. He served them both. The cinnamon rolls were still warm, something he had not experienced before. The icing was melting down the sides and it was a sticky mess.

Draven soaked in the pretty girl next to him. She was quiet, but not afraid to say what was on her mind when it came to it. He found her endearing and he cursed the fucking feeling. Why would she be any different from anyone else?

"Baking isn't your only job?" he asked pleasantly.

She turned towards him. He liked the attention. He liked how close they were. He could see every detail of her features.

"No. I am a maid the other days of the week. I needed more work, and George was more than generous."

Draven nodded like he knew what needing money was like, but he did not. Cleaning was honest hard work, and he found it admirable that she did not seem ashamed of it.

"Do you like it?"

Lynetta shrugged, "It's a job. I do enjoy baking though."

"I enjoy your baking as well," Draven said softly, and Lynetta gave him a sweet smile that melted him on the spot. He was in deep shit. "Thank you for taking the time to deliver these, and to sit with me."

Her smile did not fade. Instead, she stood, glancing at the vast landscape before her. "I enjoy your company, King Draven."

"Let me pay you," he said, standing up.

She stopped him. "You already paid George for the cost of your order. You owe nothing else."

He furrowed his brows, "but for your delivery, and your time..."

"George pays for my deliveries, and you should not pay people to spend time with you. That seems like a terrible way to make friends."

"Friends," he repeated like an idiot. The words left gently across his lips, and a rise of emotion left him stunned.

Lynetta gave a light laugh. It was a tinkle, a beautiful sound that squeezed his heart.

"Can I walk you back to the shop?" he offered, but Orion came bounding around the corner.

"Your Highness," he said breathlessly, bowing and stumbling just a bit. "I have been looking all over for you. Your meeting was supposed to start thirty minutes ago."

"I do not give a fuck," Draven huffed to him. "They can wait a few minutes. I am not a machine."

"Yes, but-"

"Give me a few more minutes, Orion," he said, pointing to the entry of the room.

Draven turned to Lynetta apologetically.

"Enjoy your treats," she said softly, already walking towards the door. He followed her.

"Until next time, Lynetta," he told her. She gave him one last smile before she headed down the castle steps.

Draven motioned a guard over. "Follow her back. Make sure she arrives safely. Let me know if there is any problems."

"Yes, sir," the guard said, leaving his station. Another soon took his place.

Draven did not have any desire to have another meeting, not after this morning's shit show. The council wanted to reduce his budget on the funding going to the children's homes and the homeless, all of the people that desperately needed it. The Royal Guards and Council did not need a pay increase. They already made triple or quadruple the average person did.

He hated money with every fiber of his being. Money caused problems and deep divides. It created a class system, something they had worked for years to dispell.

Draven would go without money before he took it away from anyone that needed it. It was not like he went anywhere or spent his money on anything. He wore the same clothes, and stayed in his home most days. He just needed a little money for some sweets from Lynetta.

He cursed the thought. She had been in his head like a parasite since they had first met, and today did nothing but encourage the bug.

Lynetta. She was such a beautiful girl. There was something about her that had his full attention. Maybe it was because she did not give a fuck about who it was. She treated him like normal, or maybe it was her kind smile or hardworking spirit.

She worked harder than he ever would, and for such little money, so much so that she had to work two jobs.

He was nervous about his developing feelings. She would just use him like everyone else. He was sure of it. He felt the need to protect himself from all of the letdown because he was the only one who would do so.

He vowed never to see her again.