Page 16 of Mated to the Crown
I grip the plate tightly, the heat seeping to my hands as I make my way upstairs. A woman pushes past me, her dress hugging her tightly and showing off her curves. I frown slightly, wondering where she is going in such a hurry and then I hear her call Your Highness and I stop.
I slip behind a corner, listening in to the conversation. My chest tightens, wondering if this was the woman whose scent was on his sheets. Quickly I dismiss it, hearing his voice rise. Sending people to him? Maybe that was the seedier side of the servants. I had heard of the women and men they truck in, to pleasure the Royals. I had never known any of them.
The woman storms off and I hear Prince Malik mutter something so I figure it was my time to step out from my hiding. I walk quickly, not wanting to be late for my second chore of the day. The last thing I needed was Jeffries coming down on me for that. I rush to the door and knock, looking down at the tray in my hands. The door opened but Prince Malik was not standing there as it opened. Instead he was walking toward the bed, sitting down on the edge.
I step into the room, kicking the door closed behind me and walk over to him. I sit the tray down on his side table and take a step back, not sure what to do. He is clearly frustrated, his head tilted back against the headboard and his eyes shut.
“Have you eaten?” His question throws me off and I shake my head no. He looks at me before moving his legs and patting the bed next to him.
I glance between him and the bed before slowly moving over and sitting down. He pulls the tray cover off and throws it on the floor, a loud clunking echoing in the room. I wince at the noise and watch as he moves the plate in between us.
“Eat with me, Celeste.” His voice is low and rough when he speaks.“You don’t want to eat with me?”
“I didn’t even bring you a fork.” I let out a little laugh.
He smiles and opens the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a couple forks and a knife.
“Morgan always forgets too. Here.” He hands me a fork and I look up at him. He smiles again, softening his features. He doesn’t look like the strong, sharp witted Prince that all the pictures show. He looks like a nice guy who has emotions too.
“Thanks.” I whisper, taking the fork from his hand, our fingers brushing, sending heat to my cheeks. “How is your day going?”
“My day?” He stabs a sausage with his fork and takes a bite of it, chewing it slowly. “It’s been busy, honestly. I don’t usually get people asking me about my day.”
“Should I not ask?” I use the side of my fork to cut off a piece of sausage before popping it into my mouth. I glance at him and he reaches forward to touch the back of my hand.
“Please ask. It makes me feel normal, and not like a Prince.” A low chuckle leaves him and I relax a little. “I do need to talk to you about something though.”
“Oh?” My mind immediately races so I cut another piece of sausage.
“There are some rumors going on. Have you heard anything?” He slices into the middle of the egg, the yolk spilling on the plate. Skillfully he pulls the English muffin apart, placing one half on the side of the plate closer to me. He takes the other and swipes it through the yolk before biting into it. I was mesmerized watching him eat. He seemed too casual, so unlike anything I thought he would be. He wasn’t stuck up, or treating me like I was lower than him. If anything, he was treating me as equal by sharing his meal.
“I have not.” I finally speak, my voice cracking.
“There are rumors I am trying to court a servant.” His lips pull up on one side and he raises an eyebrow at me. “What do you think of that?”
“Do they say who you are trying to court?” I ask quickly.
He finishes off his food, reaching out and cupping my face.
“No, but I wouldn’t be opposed to saying it is you.” He smiles.
“Me?” I squeak.
He leans forward until his nose touches mine. His eyes close and I take a moment to be in the now. His scent overwhelms me, his touch sending shivers down my spine as hemoves his hand down the side of my neck before settling on my upper thigh.
“Yes Princess, you.”
I glare at him but he simply laughs. I try to push my own feelings to the side and think about him for a moment. I know how much trouble I could get in, but what about him? There is a difference between dating a servant and having a release with a concubine.
“Won’t you get in trouble?” I whisper.
“You care if I get in trouble?” He smirks and presses his lips to mine. I melt against him, his hands moving to push the plate away from the space between us. Soon he grabs my hips and pulls me into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck and roll my hips against him.
“Isn’t that different from the fantasy we are pretending?” I ask, kissing down his strong jawline to his earlobe. He groans, digging his hands into my hips.
“Maybe it shouldn’t be a fantasy then.” One hand slides up my back, releasing the flesh from my hips and tangling in my hair instead. He pulls the hair tie out, sending my hair cascading down my shoulders. I can feel his heated gaze on me and I suddenly feel self conscious.
“I…”
