Page 3 of For the King


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“Yes, Willow,” he said and stepped closer, reaching out and brushing his fingers along my cheek. My skin felt hot instantly, yet a chill raced along my arms and legs. “I only want you. From the moment I saw you I knew you were mine.”

Chapter 2

Willow

My body was numb, my mind turning a mile a minute as I stepped out of the royal car, the door shutting behind me. I turned and watched the sleek, black vehicle drive away, so out of place for the modest area I lived in.

Facing my one-bedroom home, the one I shared with my sick mother, I made my way toward the front door and stepped inside. The scent of lavender filled my head and I turned to look at the oil diffuser going off in the corner. It was my mother’s favorite scent so it was on constantly, something that helped relax her. At this point anything that would make her feel better I was all for. I closed my eyes and thought about what King Victor had said, the deal and proposition he’d made with me.

There was no question what I would do. This wasn’t just about how much I wanted him, but also about making sure my mother was taken care of. Although I couldn’t deny my feelings for King Victor. From the moment I first saw him as the prince, and then taking the throne as my king, I desired him like no other. There had been no one for me, ever. It wasn’t just because I wanted him that I hadn’t given myself to another man.

Time and opportunity hadn’t been in my favor.

I set my bag down and headed to the back room, where I knew my mother would be sitting and reading. Most days that’s what she did, a book in her hand and the sun streaming through the window.

I stepped into the bedroom we shared and saw her in her favorite chair, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a breeze filtering in through the open window. She had her feet curled up under her and a book in her lap. I once asked her why she read so much and her response was it was her solace, a way for her to escape reality. I could understand that, especially with all she’d been through. I knew all the stress she dealt with had to weigh heavily on her.

I leaned against the doorframe and smiled at her. My mother was my rock, always had been and always would be. Her sickness came in the form of an autoimmune disorder that took her strength most days.

The door creaked as it swung open slightly and my mother looked up, her glasses perched on her nose.

“Hi, honey,” she said and smiled and I instantly walked over to her.

“Hi, Mom.” I sat on the edge of the bed, just a few feet from her, my hands clasped together in my lap. I didn’t know how to go about saying this, to tell her I made the deal with the king. She probably would be shocked I’d even had an appearance with him, but I didn’t know how she’d react to the fact I had agreed to marry him, to be the mother of his future children.

“What’s wrong, Willow?” She set her book down and leaned forward. She looked pale, with dark circles around her eyes. Over the last year she’d gotten sicker, her body frail, weak. The money I earned went toward her doctor visits and medication, but even that wasn’t enough, not with our shit insurance. And I hated seeing her so sick. I wanted to do more for her, so much more.

But now I can.

“The king asked to see me today,” I said softly. Her eyes widened instantly and she sat back.

“The king?” I nodded. The silence stretched on for several seconds. “What did he what to see you about?”

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. My nervousness wasn’t the only thing I felt. The very idea that I would marry Victor, the man who I’d lusted after for as long as I could remember, excited and aroused me.

“He wants to marry me.” I stared at my mother. “He wants me to be his queen, to help take care of you, make sure you get the best medical treatment possible.”

She didn’t respond right away but she didn’t need to. I could see the worry on her face, knew she’d try and talk me out of it.

“You can’t,” she finally said. “Willow, sweetheart, I will not have you whore yourself out to the king to help me.” She shook her head. “No, I won’t have that, Willow.”

“It’s done,” I said instantly. “And this isn’t about whoring me out.” I looked down at my hands. “Marrying King Victor won’t be the worst thing I could do,” I whispered. When my mom didn’t say anything I looked up at her.

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