Page 3 of Mated to the Crown
“I can survive for a week, Morgan.” I had told him. I did survive. I’m not a pathetic man who was just born into this. I trained every day for years. I am well educated and don’t take my status as a specialty. It is something important and I don’t want to lounge about in the Palace like my cousins. I need to stay busy or I will go mad.
I follow after Morgan as we make our way down the hallway to the main foyer. The walls are filled with paintings of our families over the years. I don’t dare look at them, I have seen them millions of times before and each time I look at them I find five more things I don’t like about them. The way my great uncle looks like he is disgusted with everything. He was the onewho cheated on his wife and had a bastard son though. The way my great great grandmother had to hold her prized diamond in her portrait, insisting on having it painted in - even when many people told her no. The way my who-knows-how-far-back-grandfather, wouldn’t allow his wife in the same portrait. Men in one, women in the other, he had said. Pathetic.
We curve around the hallway and Morgan holds the door to the foyer open for me. The place is magnificent, even if it is the place we spend most of our time in for not the best of reasons. The high ceilings arch and fill with light from the various windows high up. Intricately designed stone walls form a beautiful pattern. The tile floors break the room in two different sections. One for the Royal family to sit, one for commoners. I frown, I hate that the most. When did we put ourselves on such high pedestals?
“Good morning, your Highness. If you please.” The man in front of me motions to the table to sit. It is a large table, nearly 8 feet long, with 6 chairs on one side and one on the other. It is meant for us to talk with others, the tile separating the family from commoners under the table. Gone are the days of thrones, for the most part.
“Thank you.” I mutter as I settle in the seat. Two folders are thrust at me and the man on my left begins to speak. He is the one who runs the front, he organizes everything from meetings to introductions, parties, you name it. He knows more gossip than anyone.
“The first woman we are meeting today is named Elodie. She comes from an Eastern district. Her father is from a long line-” I zone out to his incessant talking. I can read the file myself. I look through the portfolio, reading the lines quickly before pulling out her picture. Ugh. Definitely not my type in any way. I close it quickly and move onto the next.
“This woman…” I wave my hand, silencing him quickly.
“Thank you, Jeffries. I can read.” I drawl. I open it and again am disappointed it is not my mate staring me back in the picture. I rub my head, feeling a headache begging to crawl into my skull. “Please have them talk to my mother, I think they are better suited for my younger brother. I have other things to attend to.” I stand and look at Jeffries, waiting for him to challenge me.
“Yes, your Highness.” He nods and grabs the folders, tucking them under his arm and disappearing out a side door. Morgan gives me a look but I wave my hand at him. I couldn’t even explain this shit if I wanted to.
“I am going to see Grandma Charlotte. When is our next meeting?” I ask, already walking away from the room. Morgan trails after me, taking his notebook out of the pocket of his suit and looking through it.
“Three hours.” He responds.
“Thank you. I will see you then.” With that I exit the side door to the balcony and let out a silent prayer that Morgan doesn’t follow me. The door closes and I wait a second to see if he will. Thank the Goddess he doesn’t. I walk toward the edge of the balcony, leaning down so my forearms lean against the cold concrete railing. I look down at the gardens, bursting with spring activity. This was my grandmother's favorite spot. I wasn’t close with most of my family, but she had been the one I had been closest to. We used to spend a lot of time together but when she started getting older and it was harder for her to get around I couldn’t escape as much.
I was inundated with meetings and political matters that needed my urgent attention. She withered away in her room. I could see the pain in her eyes every time she was alone so I had Morgan pick a servant to visit with her and read to her or play cards. Just someone to keep her busy while I couldn’t. Even though I wasn’t first in line, even close to taking the throne, I stillhad multiple things to organize and oversee. It took too much of my time, but little moments like this were nice to just breathe.
I push off the railing and make my way to my grandmother’s room. I knock on the door, not hearing anything. Usually she calls out for me to come in. I go to knock again and the door is flung open. A woman stands there, tears brimming her eyes and her face red. She looks scared, worried and confused. I cock my head to the side slightly, looking from her to my grandmother.
“Please, help.” She whispers and I step forward, pushing her off to the side. I quickly make my way to my grandmother, kneeling down and feeling for a pulse in both her neck and her wrist. I set my jaw, questions piling up in my mind. Did this girl hurt her? Did she poison her? What was her motive? I stand up and walk to her, cornering her as I slam the door shut.
“What happened?” I growl, leaning forward. “Spill it, now.” Anger surges through me, thinking of all the awful things this woman could have done.
“I-I don’t know. We were talking and I was reading to her and then when I got up to leave she didn’t move.” Her eyes well with tears again and soon they are flowing down her cheeks, dripping onto the carpet. Her body is shaking and she shrinks against the wall. “I don’t know.”
“You didn’t do this to her?” I wave my hand, pointing to the seat.
“Why would I do this to her? I have been reading with her for years!” She quickly rubs her eyes, brushing the stray tears away but leaving her face red. She stands up straighter, staring me right in the eyes. “I’ve been with her more than you, Prince Malik.” She spits out and suddenly I feel a pang in my chest.
This is her. My mate. The way she says my name sends a searing pain through me. I clench my teeth, closing my eyes and leaning against the wall for support. My head pounds as thememories of my dream flash through it. Us in the stables. Us in bed. Her running. Me marrying her. I open my eyes, stepping forward toward her. It’s so dark in here, I can’t get a good view. I whip around, pushing through the pounding in my head and open the window, suddenly flooding the room with light.
When I turned around I didn't know what I was about to see. I expected some servant, claiming she didn’t know what happened. I expected someone to be scared of me, worried about how what they did would get them fired or sent to court. What I see before me is my beautiful mate, arms crossed against her chest, breath still heaving and tears falling. But that look in her eyes… She is furious. She is angry and she will not step down to me simply because I am a Prince. She is perfect.
“Excuse me?” I question, wondering if this is something she is putting on as a front, or if this is truly how she responds to me.
“I have been here for years. If you don’t believe me then send me to a mage and have my mind looked at. I did not hurt her in any way.” She straightens taller.
Fuck no, I would not send her to a mage. That would reveal the bond right away. A mage will get slammed in the face with it and then reveal it to her. She doesn’t seem to know yet, so that is on my side. I just have to keep my own emotions in check. I sit down, letting out a deep breath as I rub my temples.This fucking headache.
“Okay. Let’s talk through this. I obviously can’t say you killed her. I want to believe you but it seems rather weird you just happened to be here alone with her.” I hear her scoff but my eyes are closed so I don’t see her expression.
“She is always alone in case you haven’t noticed. She only ever sees me and some other servants. I did not give her anything to eat or drink so how would I have hurt her?” Her voice comes out as daggers, digging into my brain and all my sickmind can think about is punishing that brat and listening to her whimper against my hand on her ass.
Fuck!
“Okay, okay.” I stand up, trying to think of anything that won’t get my dick hard. “Let me find Morgan and I will take care of this. Please return to your normal duties and come find me later tonight so we can debrief.” I can’t help the smirk on my face when I hear her scoff.She is so fiery.
“You don’t even know who I am. And where the hell am I supposed to find you? I’m only allowed in certain areas. Not like you would know.” She mutters the last part but I hear it anyway.
“7pm. Stables. And what is your name? I do admit, I don’t remember seeing you much around here.” I ask.
