The Princess's Guard ✔️

21

Word Count: 1721

~Kiva

I'm going to get in trouble for this in the morning, I already know it.

Thankfully a maid owed me a favour, so I convinced her to slip what I insisted was just a crushed up vitamin into Ark's drink tonight.

She wasn't convinced on the vitamin excuse, but she did it anyway.

Nothing can come between me and meeting my mate tonight. And nothing does, as I step over Ark's unconscious form lying against the wall beside my door.

I'm tempted to kick him in the ribs for all the brutal training sessions he's inflicted upon me, but him waking in the morning with a bruise won't bode well for me.

It takes me minutes to get out of the house and into the dark, snowy labyrinth of the forest.

Once I reach our previous meeting spot, I stand and wait, leaning against the frozen trunk of the tree.

He doesn't come.

I'm not sure how long I wait, pacing incessantly until my boots have worn a perfect line in the snow.

Eventually I tire, trekking back toward the manor, guided only by the silvery moonlight that drenches the backyard.

Guilt, shame and disappointment accompany me as I make it back upstairs. Ark is still knocked out, as I crouch down to his level, tilting my head to see under the soft black locks of hair that have fallen over his closed eyes.

"I should draw a cock on your face, asshole," I mutter.

He doesn't move, breathing softly.

He looks so odd sleeping. I never see him vulnerable, peaceful. He's beautiful...

Part of me can imagine turning over in bed to see him sleeping, entirely naked under watery dawn sunlight. It would douse his perfect, muscular abdomen and...

I shake my head. What is wrong with me?

I leave my forbidden thoughts at the threshold of my room before crawling under my sheets, allowing only thoughts of my mate to plague me until morning.

By the time it's rolled around, I know only one thing.

I do not want to train today.

Regardless, I trudge downstairs and outside to the gym where Ark awaits, already sorting out the equipment he plans to use.

"I have an idea for an exercise we can do to aid your training," he says, not looking up.

I rub my hand over my face. "Sure. What is it?"

"I need to make sure you're up to it first." When he looks up at me, there's concern in my eyes. I frown, not sure I like what he is implying.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I ask warily.

"You look withdrawn recently. Distracted," he observes.

I laugh bitterly under my breath. I haven't had a thought not plagued by either him, my mate, Caspian or my life as Princess in days.

"I'm fine. Seriously." I don't need to burden him with what haunts me.

"It's about your mate. That you went and met up with," he guesses, tilting his head to study my expression.

"Huh? That's not-"

"I woke up the other morning feeling like I had been drugged. Figured you slipped me something to go see him." He says it so casually, like he's not angry at me.