AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But she reminded herself that Prince Griffin was a stranger. That she had done what was asked of her, that was all. He was the King’s brother—butshewas nothing but the King’s lowly subject.
That didn’t make the twist in her belly go away. But it helped.
The night wore on. Griffin stayed at her side,which meant Melody had no choice but to smile. To simper. To pretend to beoverwroughtby her remarkable elevation in status.
When instead, what she really was, she found, was...entertained.
Not just by this stranger, this husband foisted upon her,who acted as if she needed him to dote on her in this way. But by all the womenwho contrivedreasons to swan up andcongratulatePrince Griffin on his nuptials.
And it was him they were congratulating, Melody was well aware. Not her. They all seemed to suffer from the same common ailment—the notion that because Melody couldn’t see them, she also couldn’t hear them.
They came to him in clouds of scent, their voices dripping with greed. Malicious intent.And when aimed at Melody, nothing short of pure disdain.
“I’m so deeply happy for you, Your Royal Highness,” they would flutter at him. “But how hard it is to imagine one such as you truly off the market.”
“Do you meanthe local farmers’ markets?” Melody would ask, disingenuously.And tried to beam just slightly angled away from the direction of whatever woman stood before her.“I am told they’ve made such a difference in the city center. So festive, particularly at this time of year.”
Perhaps her favorite part of the whole thingwas standing there in the aftermath of such fatuous statements, feelingthe reaction all around her.
Oh, yes, she was enjoying herself.
She would never have chosen to marry of her own volition. But having beenforced into it, and having received an order from King Orion to play a part, Melody found the whole thing far more amusingthan she’d expected.
Until the trumpets blared and it was her turn to be swept out of the ballroomby her royal husband.
Melody wanted to complain at length to her sister, because no one else knew her well enoughto listen to herwithout simultaneously pitying her in somewayshe would likely find deeply tiresome. But the Queen was not available for sisterly grousing, leaving Melody to surrender herself to this last part of the royal marriage ritual while keeping her feelings to herself.
She thoughtthisparticular partof the traditional Idyllian royal wedding was cringeworthy. Everyone stood about as if theywere in some medievalkeep, cheering on the bridegroom as he usheredhis new wife off to what they claimed washappy-after-ever.
What they meant wasthe marital bed.
Melodyhad never understood these strange architectures erected around sex.In the case of a royal wedding, everyone pretended it was about courtly manners. Or ceremony. Or tradition itself, as if the fact people had long done something meant everyone must forever carry on doing it.
But at the end of all the theatrics, it was about sex. It was always about sex.It amused her to no end thatsheseemed to be the only person capable of seeing that.
Prince Griffindrew her along with himand because Melody could not commenton thisthe way she would have liked, she had no choice but to...allowit.
And there was suddenly nothing to concentrate on but him. Awareness swept over her, whether she wanted it or not.
He was hot to the touch. Too hot.He had a hand splayed at her low back again and she wished he would remove it, because it was far too...confusing.
Distracting.
She told herself it was because they were climbing stairs. That was why she seemed to be heating up, almost steaming.But deep inside, low in her belly, it was ifher body was far more exultantly medieval than she’d ever imagined possible.
He moved with a certainquiet power that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle.Because she recognized it.He was...contained. Not quite what he seemed on the surface. And she could feel that so distinctlyit was as if he was making announcements to that effect as he led her away from the crowd.
He kept a firm, if gentle, hold of her,as if she needed help navigating through the wide corridors of the palace and their acres and acres of gleaming, empty marble. He did not make small talk, and when she noticed that, it made all the strange things churning about inside her start to glow.
Because the character of Prince Griffin that everybody knew so well had never let a moment go by without filling it with sound of his own voice. Everyone knew that. Notorious charmers were rarely shy and retiring.
Not that she thought the real Prince Griffin, whoever he might be, wasshy.The quality of his silence was different than that. It was too confident. Too secure.
She could feel it in the way he guided her, with an ease that suggested he’d spent the bulk of his life matching his pace to hers and maneuvering her where he wanted her, and this wasn’t the first night he’d ever done so. It felt so natural it was almost as if she was leading the way.
Melody understood, deep in her bones, that this was not a man to be trifled with.
But she couldn’t make that odd glimmer of understanding work with the fact he wasPrince Griffin,so she shoved it aside. And pretended she was flushed from the walking in such a cumbersome gown, nothing more.
