Page 56 of The Princess's Pet

“Welcome home, my Royal Highness,” the man spoke after an awkward moment of looking me over. As I felt the breeze on my bare legs, I was aware that I was still in my bed clothes of short, shorts and a t-shirt and I felt my face flush self-consciously.

“Thank you, Gregory. Is my wing ready for my arrival?” she asked Gregory and he bowed low.

“Despite the short notice caused by such unfortunate circumstances, we have prepared your wing, hopefully to your liking. If there is anything amiss or that you require, I am, as always, at your service,” Gregory answered.

“Yes, my pet will require breakfast. Coffee and fruit are to be brought to my room. All luggage should also be brought to my room,” the Princess told him as she guided us towards stairs that led to an entrance of the castle. We were not using the mainentrance but rather a small side door that I thought was most likely used by the servants.

“Right away my Royal Highness,” he replied from behind us.

“Don’t speak a word, pet, until I say otherwise,” she said, her hand on my hip squeezing almost painfully.

At first, the corridors she led me down were stone-lined, narrow, and not what I had expected. We passed several servants that all paused to bow low and there were many curious glances my way.

After climbing a very narrow staircase, where the Princess had removed her hand from my hip and entwined our hands instead, we emerged into a large corridor. The ceilings were as high as the ceiling of the grand hall at the Academy. Gold lights mounted between large old windows lit the corridor, a lavish blue and silver carpet lined the floor, and the walls were decorated with Borealis shields, banners, and portraits.

She led me down the corridor passing large doors with intricate carvings until she stopped in front of a door that had her name, Selene, engraved into the dark wood.

She pushed the door open and pulled me inside. It was her bedroom, complete with a large four-poster bed lined with thin curtains. It was the type of plush bed I expected a Princess to sleep in. The bed she had at the Academy must have been far below her standards. The door being pulled shut loudly distracted me from my appreciation of the bed.

“Do you like my bed, pet?” she asked pressing herself against me from behind, her hands wrapping around my stomach.

“It looks like it came directly from a picture book. Exactly the kind of bed I’d expect of a princess,” I told her. She pressed her nose against my neck breathing in deeply.

“I am a princess.” She hummed, tongue swiping from the base of my neck to my ear. “We can speak freely in this room only. Trust nowhere else. This room is enchanted, to stop eavesdroppers, from listening in on my private happenings,” she explained to me before her teeth nibbled on my earlobe.

“Why are we here?” I asked my breath hitching. The Princess exhaled frustrated moving away from my neck and releasing me from her hold. I almost regretted asking when she pulled away from me, until I saw her expression and realised that something was very wrong.

She sat heavily on the edge of her bed, a hand coming up to run through dark waves.

“My father is ill,” she told me. “The illness started only a few days ago but I received news last night that he had worsened significantly.”

I walked slowly and knelt before her my hands on her knees. “I’m sorry,” I told her. I felt for the Princess, losing her mother so recently and now her father was ill. She hid her feelings well. “Was that what the letter was about the other day?” I asked her. She nodded.

“My father was the epitome of Borealis health, not a week ago, and now a mysterious illness has him bedridden and unable to run the kingdom day-to-day. I fear that the same actor that murdered my mother is at play here,” she told me and her face showed her concern freely.

“What are you going to do?” I asked her my stomach filling with sympathetic anxiety.

“I don’t know yet. I need to tread carefully. There is more to be wary of than a traitor to uncover. With my mother’s death and now my father’s mysterious illness, the monarchy and political systems have never been in a greater state of emergency in the last two centuries,” she explained, and truthfully, I didn’t understandwhat she meant but I listened carefully to her speak and leaned forward to kiss her knee.

“Pet, I do not believe I am safe here, in my own home,” she whispered. I looked up to see liquid silver swimming with unshed tears.

“You think someone will attempt to take your life?” I asked shocked and a deathly cold fear ran down my spine. She straightened and nodded her head. I never thought I’d see the Princess look anything other than strong, assured, and capable; but she looked fragile and uncertain with her confession. I didn’t like it.

“You can trust me,” I told her swallowing my fear. “I’ll help you, however you need,” I promised. And I meant it. I didn’t know what good I could do, but I knew if she asked anything of me, I would give it to her.

“You’re sweet, pet. Too kind for me,” she replied, a soft smile on her lips replacing the worry. Her hand stroked my hair and I leaned into her touch.

There was a knock at the door and the Princess stood to answer, I got to my feet.

Gregory was there with a couple of fancy suitcases in his hands. A middle-aged woman stood behind him carrying a tray that held a coffee decanter, mug, and bowl of various fruits.

“Leave the luggage by the foot of the bed, the food at the dressing table,” the Princess commanded and stepped aside to allow Gregory and the woman to enter. The woman glanced my way curiously but was quick to look away again.

Once the door was closed and we were alone the Princess took my hand and guided me to the stool in front of the dressing table.

“Eat,” she instructed as I sat. “After, we’ll get dressed. I must meet with my father’s council. You will accompany me so that I can formally introduce you to the house as my personal servant, pet, and source.”

I nodded and poured myself a mug of coffee, picking a strawberry from the bowl and popping it in my mouth, humming my appreciation.

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