Dark Love

Part 21

He was not old!

Saera fumed as she hauled her trunk up to Prince Darr's dorm. She recalled the man who married her quite clearly. His vigour in having her could not be faulted. Whatever he may be, he was certainly not old.

She trudged up the last of the stairs of Raven House. Devote wise it was a far cry from the more cheery Griffin House. Mahogany panelling and deep blues were the running palette scheme throughout the place. The royal suite, an entire dorm room presently occupied by just a single prince was no different.

Saera pushed open the doors to her newest accommodations. The vast space that met her gaze was a waste of space. Three beds was spaced apart in the room. Saera's name emblazoned across the one in the middle. Saera eyed it with a disgruntled sigh. It was clear she was expected to act as a buffer between the princes even in sleep.

Shaking her head she laid her trunk down and shoved it against the bed. She eyed the closet beside the bed. Recalling the incident with the witchling socialite princesses, Saera decided to leave her things in her trunk. It was already charmed to respond only to her touch and her stolen goods were safest from further stealing or sabotage in its confines. If things went wrong with her clothes here she doubted she could raid the princes closet space for replacements. The wouldn't fit for one thing and Saera wasn't certain what the penalties were for robbing a royal.

Eyeing the empty chamber warily, Saera decided to test the bed first before she lay across it. It was dry. And warm. Her eyes dropped shut almost of its own accord only to snap open at the pointed clearing of a masculine throat.

"Don't you know any better, you bow or curtsey when before a royal." The words and the deep baritone accompanying it had Saera tilting her head up to stare into the very blue eyes if Prince Darr.

"I am not bowing or curtsey to my dorm mates," said Saera flatly.

"Servants more importantly must display a modicum if servitude in their conduct," returned the Prince incorriagibly.

"I couldn't agree more, as dorm mates ordinarily share, I will be happy to share in the services of any servants you employ." Saera batted her eyes up at him.

"A slave does not deserve such benefits." The prince tried again.

"Well its just as well that slavery has been outlawed for centuries now." Saera shifted her arms to prop it behind her head, her grin vicious as she contemplated the prince in close proximity. He grinned back at her. His gaze as penetratingly searching as her own.

Saera took in his blond hair, worn in short waves that curled softly against an ear. She studied his prominent nose and high cheekbones. His wide forehead. The pinkish tint to his skin. And then drifted lower to run fleetingly over the velvety pillows of his lips to the strong column of his throat. His shoulders were encased in deep blue velvet that almost blended with the blues in the walled fabric of the room. She already knew the taunt abs hidden beneath the tunic he wore and instinctively knew the leather braecs he wore over his flanks concealed a similarly divine musculature.

His study of her person drew a bemused smirk to cross his lips. They stared back and forth assessingly.

"You really don't know who you married, do you?" He lifted a taunting brow down at her. "How is that even possible? Madam Marie may have been trying to placate your sentiments but have you considered husband dearest might be a criminal? It would certainly explain why he would conceal his identity from you."

"Fuck you," Saera muttered drily.

"You wish, shunned."

"I don't actually."

"How did it happen anyway? How did he fuck you? Consumate the marriage without revealing his face? Were you blindfolded? Or was he? I wouldn't have pegged you as the kinky sort but who am I to judge?" His grin now was positively wicked and Saera could only roll her eyes despairingly.

Prince Darr was the first person to hold a conversation with her simply for the sake of conversing. Yet, she couldn't quite help wishing he's shut-the-fuck-up. 

"Fuck you, Prince. Fuck you, anyway.'