Page 76 of Crownless King

His name fluttered from my lips.

“Voron…”

As my eyes closed, his face appeared so clear, as if he were indeed here. His stormy gray eyes darkened with lust, their glimmer shaded by the silver-and-black strands hanging over his forehead.

“Come for me, little bird,”his voice sounded in my mind, setting off the explosion of pleasure through me.

The storm thundered again. Energy zapped through my body, rippling inside me with the ecstasy of orgasm.

“I love you, Voron.” I whispered into the night the words I would never say in the light of day.

I pressed my face into my tear-stained pillow, hugging my belly that had swelled round and big with his child. I loved Voron, and there was nothing I could do about it. Love couldn’t be controlled. It had come to me uninvited. And now, it wouldn’t leave, no matter how much I wished for it to go.

The thunder rolled once more, but far in the distance this time. The winds had died down, and the relentless pelting of hail had gradually stopped.

The Sky King had finally found some peace. At least for tonight.

* * *

TWO MONTHS LATER

Carrying a thick slab of smoked ham in my apron, I climbed out from the cold cellar and shut the trap door behind me, then went to the main room of the house. The cauldron with our dinner was already simmering in the hearth. The stew should be ready by the time Bavius returned from the fields that night.

Winter was at its end. Snow was still lying in patches all over the fields. But Bavius was already anxious about this year’s crops. Every morning, he’d go out to clear the debris the storms had left behind or to dig new traps for the boars and other wild beasts that might threaten the plants he wouldn’t seed for a month or two yet.

Bavius used to set a cauldron of stew first thing in the morning before he left the house, then eat it for both lunch and dinner. Since I’d been living with him, I made him a ham sandwich for lunch and put the stew on the fire at around midday. That way, it tasted the best by dinner time.

Pressing the ham to my chest, I waddled to the table. A cramp low in my belly made me pause to catch my breath. My middle had widened so much by now, I had to tie my apron right under my breasts. I slowly breathed through the pain, waiting for it to subside.

It’d been happening for a few days now. My term was up. The baby would be arriving any day now. But I still had no idea how I felt about it.

Some days were better than others. I would rub the spots where the little feet kicked me from the inside, smiling. A wave of indescribable tenderness would take over me, making me want to cry, overcome with love for the little being I’d never even met yet.

Other days, I’d cry for different reasons. Uncertainty racked me with worry. What kind of life would I be able to give my child? How long could we keep hiding? And how could I protect us from whatever lay ahead?

Life on the farm flowed slowly, as if suspended in a bubble. There was little joy in endless, monotonous chores. Bavius worked all day, every day, and I got no breaks or holidays, either, earning my keep. But there was also no immediate danger. And I wished to keep it that way.

Back at the table, I cut a thick slice from the ham, then buttered two slabs of the bread I’d made that morning. I covered one slice with a layer of roasted vegetables and placed the ham on top of it. After assembling the sandwich, I didn’t bother cutting it in half, wrapping the entire thing in a clean kitchen towel.

Bavius liked everything large and “substantial” as he said. He got annoyed with little, delicate things that required any kind of finesse to handle. Understandably so, since everything about that man was also huge, from his giant hands with thick fingers that tended to break small things, to his wide mouth that could gobble up an entire loaf of bread in three bites.

I packed his sandwich along with a couple of apples and a clay jug of water into a basket, then put my cloak on. The farm was so remote, I hadn’t seen anyone other than Bavius and Sauria for the eight months I’d been here, but one could never be too careful. Out in the open fields, I always made sure to wear a cloak with its hood up.

Before I came along, Bavius would come home for lunch. Now, he preferred to work through the day, having me bring lunch to him.

The weather was hideous. Wind tore at my cloak the moment I stepped past the fence and out of the yard. Dark clouds hung low, heavy with rain that would undoubtedly spill overnight.

“Always in a pissy mood, aren’t you?” I muttered under my breath.

In a world where the king’s moods controlled the weather, there was no escaping reminders of him. Voron was on my mind constantly. With Bavius working out of the house year-round and Sauria leaving the area often for whatever hag business she had to attend to, I was left alone often, one on one with my thoughts. And my thoughts always returned to Voron, no matter what I did.

I hated it. Hated that I kept talking to him in my mind. Hated that he was the star of all my sweaty fantasies whenever I touched myself. And most of all, I hated that even after everything that had happened, I still couldn’t truly hate him. As I stared into the clouds, I couldn’t stop wondering how he was doing.

From the news that Bavius brought occasionally from his rare trips to the town market, I knew that the High Lords’ campaign against Voron had never really ended. Some highborn still refused to be ruled by the wingless king. The rest of the kingdom wasn’t happy either, worn out by the brutal storms during his reign and blaming him for the bad weather.

Voron had put an end to some unrests, but new ones would flare up often. Claiming the Sky Crown might be his biggest and greatest achievement in life. Only judging by the dark, ominous clouds in the sky, it didn’t bring him much happiness.

A part of me felt vindicated in a way. He’d sacrificedusand everything we could’ve been together to this ambition of his, and it had failed to bring him any satisfaction or give the kingdom even a ray of sunshine.

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