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As I begin to tell myself thatVictor’s waymight be best, with him torturing the truth out of Madeline, a calm washes over me.
The Queen should be here. Shouldn’t she? This is bigger than just me and what I’ve lost. The country needs to give a flying fuck about itscommoners.
Sarah senses my hesitation and slides out of bed to sit next to me. “Lux, Mary’s father never allowed me to reprimand her, not even for the most insidious infractions. She and Madeline will pay tonight. The Queen will glean that her antics have created horrible minions out of the lot of them.”
31
Luxury
Although a small gap remains between us, heat radiates from Victor. I’m still in lingerie while Victor’s donned a suit. I place the tie around his neck and slowly follow the steps I’ve seen him take.
Foreboding snakes through me as Victor’s hands frame my waist, and he’s pulling me an arm's length away. Dark eyes wash over every exposed inch of me. “Shall I handle this for us?”
My throat clogs as I slowly smooth the tie over the wide, rocky surface of Victor’s chest. “I’ve killed before. I killed the woman in the hotel.” I mention the woman I later learned had spied for Victor.
“Yes, you have.”
I move my hands over his carved chest to follow the sharp length of his shoulders. Damn, my Victor’s breathtakingly handsome.
I exhale. “If I could murder a stranger to preserve my life, I can do this. You’ve made me stronger. Going back to avenge me. Murdering Al Rafi and Noor. All of that made me stronger.”
I’m tethered to Victor Tudor in ways I couldn’t even fathom.
The first time he fought for me, he was too friggen noble to claim his reward. That instant left the Russian dead where the motherfucker stood.
Another instance, greater still, is when he told his entire duchy that helovedme.
I can’t bring my tongue, mouth, or throat to articulate that Sarah invited his Queen, his other friggen grandmother. But then I’m arrested by the deep blue depth of Victor’s eyes. Victor caresses my face with a finger. Like his edicts while holding a gun, he nurtures me. “Little One, youwillgive me a sign tonight if you’re overwhelmed.”
I can’t take it!I blurt out, “Sarah invited your other grandmother, the friggen Queen. But you’re not to say anything. She won’t be harmed . . . aside from a stomachache, perhaps. Also, we’re playing by my rules. Please don’t forget that.”
Dang, that was friggen awkward.
Searing hands border my cheeks. “I don’t give a damn if we’re sitting at a table before my ancestors. Make me bloody fucking proud, Little One.”
He relinquishes me from his touch.
“Hold your hands up,” Victor orders.
“Am I your doll?” I let out a little chortle while complying.
With my hands raised, Victor slides one of my favorite slip dresses over my head. The silk falls over my soft curves like a warm rain, and Victor’s hands follow the same path. He mutters, “You’re my everything.” Victor draws up to his full height and presses a chaste kiss on my forehead. “My everything, and don’t you forget it, Little One.”
“Oh, I won’t,” I murmur, eyes sparkling as a plethora of emotions takes flight in my abdomen.
Victor holds a hand out, and I take it.
Prince Victor Wesley Tudor no longer has a crown, but I’ll be damned if he isn’t my king. Gone are the days I was intimidated by his wealth and status. Holding my head high, I accompany him through the vast manor.
We are equals.
* * *
Haughty voices carry from a lengthy dining room. One I’ll never forget slivers bits of my heart until it’s a julienned slush in the pit of my stomach. Madeline’s inquiring why the herald wasn’t on call tonight to announce her presence. The Queen’s guards, standing just outside the dining room with their backs against the wall, stare as we near the entrance.
Damn, I’m too short for tact. If I were taller, I’d whisper into Victor’s ear while kissing him. But I decide to mutter beneath my breath, “They hate us.”
“I assure you that it’s only me they hate. I may have given the one on the left a shiner.”
