Page 27 of Taken By the Barbarian King

I quickly remove my hand. I definitely want to hear how she’ll tear apart the stodgy old man. “I apologize. If you wouldn’t mind starting from the beginning?” I give her the floor with a small, almost gleeful bow. This is going to be good.

She turns to the high priest, eyes blazing with fire. "You think you're so big and strong, don't you, you pig of a man? Well, news flash. You don’t scare me. Not even a little bit. If you listened to a woman every once in a while you wouldn't all be slaves to your past. You wouldn’t have to abduct a woman just to find a wife. You wouldn’t end up traditioning yourselves into extinction! Thundar is going to drag your sorry, pathetic hides into the twenty-first–or whatever–century. He’s going to make changes that will truly ‘liberate’ the women of your society. He’s going to be a fucking amazing king and I’m going to be right beside him the entire time."

The room is silent when Lottie finishes. I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t understand everything she said, but the royal council would have to be dumber than I thought if they didn’t understand her tone.

The high priest gapes like a sea creature and looks to his peers for support. They are all equally stunned. I don’t think a woman has ever addressed the royal council in quite such a brutish manner–not even Mother. If she was a man, they would be nominating her to be the next king. But since they are a group of backward-facing, out-of-touch old men, they will be anything but impressed.

"For Gods' sake, Tartax," I call out to the high priest. "If you tighten your fists any harder you'll give yourself a heart attack."

Lottie turns to me and I look at her. I can't not look at her when she's the brightest, most beautiful light in the room. In any room, really.

It doesn't matter that she's the smallest person in the room, or that her normally pink skin has gone oddly pale, or that she doesn’t have the first clue about our customs. In fact, it’s all of those things that make her the most important person in my life.

"What?" she asks when I’m silent for several long moments.

"I'm sorry," I apologize again and she bites her lip.

"You said that already. Do you mean it?"

"I do." I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss her knuckles. Then her wrist. Then her arm. I don't stop until I reach her neck. "I do. I mean it all. I love you with all my heart. I love you, Lottie."

I pull away and rest my forehead against hers.

"It's Charlotte. Charlotte Kingsley," she murmurs, her breath warm on my face, her sweet scent permeating the air around me, making my hairs stand on end.

"I love you, Charlotte Kinglsey. And let the whole council hear this. I love Charlotte Kingsley. She's my bride. My queen. My everything. And no harm shall ever befall her as Gods are my witnesses."

The royal council can do nothing but watch. Watch and accept my claim, because I'm their future king and I will rip every single one of them apart before I let any one of them touch her.

When I look back down at her, her lips are quirked up into a smile and her lashes fall heavy over her eyes.

"Do you mean it?" she whispers.

"With all my being."

She nods, licks her lips, and takes a deep breath.

"I… I love you too, Thundar. More than anyone I've ever loved before."

I put my hand around her, on the back of her neck, and press her to me, press her lips to mine, reacquainting my tongue with her sweet, decadent taste.

It never mattered who she was. It was just my pride getting in the way of my heart. But I won't let that mistake happen ever again.

Being away from her for an entire day was painful enough. I can't imagine an eternity.

nine

. . .

Lottie

Back on Earth, planning a royal wedding would have taken years. Literal years, with a formal planning committee of at least a dozen people, plus several hundred more staff to carry out every excruciatingly small detail.

On Aysgoth, they throw it together overnight. Literally, one night.

After Thundar and I gave the royal council the royal fuck-you, Fiotrix and her team of miracle workers whisked me away. We went back to the rooms I’d been locked in earlier, then proceeded to make use of every single inch of that spa-like bathing chamber.

A full body massage, a decadent facial, a mani-pedi. A skin treatment that made me as smooth as a baby’s bum. I soaked in all the tubs. Got blasted by all the jets. I might not have been a royal when I walked into that room, but by the time they were done with me, I was definitely no longer a mere commoner.

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