Page 1 of Mated to the Crown
MALIK
“Do you, Prince Malik, take-” The front doors of the church slam open, echoing across the quiet space. Everyone in attendance turns to the figure in the door, myself included. I stand there, hands holding my bride but my gaze is elsewhere.
A woman walks in, her pale blue dress bunching at her calves as she walks. Her face is in a permanent scowl but it doesn’t quite touch her soft blue eyes. Her light brown hair is windswept, pulled up in an elaborate bun. She stops, eyes taking me in and I set my jaw.
“I object.” Her voice is loud, breaking through the stuffiness of the church.
“Do you, now?” The priest asks. “And what makes you say that?” He quirks an eyebrow. An older fellow, but one tied to my family. His black robe and bald head make him the epitome of a minister. My gaze leaves his face and back to hers, a wicked smile appearing on it. I absentmindedly drop my hands,releasing my bride to be’s in the process and watch the woman who walked in.
“Because I am his mate, and I don’t give a fuck if you care that I am Royal or not. The Goddess chose me.” With that statement she rips the sleeve of the dress off. The fancy tulle hangs limp on her shoulder before she pulls it completely off, revealing the tattoo that I knew I would find. Gasps and murmurs dissipate through the crowd. My throat constricts at the display of her bare arm.
Intricate designs, seeming to pulse with her heartbeat fill her skin. They wrap around her upper arm in a dark blue and fade to her elbow. I glance at my bride to be. She is beautiful with her curly blonde hair and piercing green eyes, but she isn’t my Queen.
I walk over to the woman with the blue dress, stopping inches from her. The whole audience watches me as I move. My footsteps break the silence but no one dares to move. Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of emotions fill me as she goes to open her mouth. I shake my head and slowly take off my suit jacket and toss it to the floor beside me. The entire church has their attention rapt on us. I unbutton the top of my shirt and the woman’s eyes widen before reaching out to touch me. I grab her hand as it reaches out to me, kissing her palm gently.It’s okay.
She relaxes under my grip. She is shorter than me, but her dress billows out so that it covers the things I like most about her. The way her hips swell. The pop of the top button on my shirt echoes in the silence. The way her waist is an hourglass shape.Pop.The way her freckles trace down her cheeks to her chest and across her shoulders.Pop.The way she screams my name.Pop. Pop.
I pull the shirt down far enough to reveal the same tattoo marking my arm. It swirls around my shoulder, digging into myflesh with a darker blue than hers. Her eyes do not move from my gaze but hushed whispers and gasps fill the room once more.
“There you are, My Queen.” I smile and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close. My lips meet hers and instantly she melts against me, her arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me tight.
CELESTE
“Oh my Gods, are you kidding me right now?” Laughter echoes across the open beams of the barn. I peek my head up from where I am laying and look over at my sister.
“Come on, you know you feel the same.” I blow out a sigh as she points her finger at me. Leaning back against the hay bales again I look up at the strong wood holding the barn up. The cobwebs seem to sparkle in the afternoon sun, small droplets of water clinging desperately to the silky strands.
“Yeah, probably more than you think.” I whisper. If she knew I had drama about her newest crush, she probably wouldn’t be crushing on him.
“What?” She calls but I ignore her. Here we are, hiding out in the hay bale storage of the barn. What a life.
“Well come on, we have work to do.” I grumble. She gets up, patting my knee and I begrudgingly follow her.
My little sister Lyra and I grew in the palace, but not the way you would think. We were born servants and have stayed such for many years, tracing back multiple times. Our family wasjust born to serve I guess, which is something I’m constantly struggling with as I grow closer to 33. I’m supposed to be off, married with children at this point, and for the life of me it just isn’t happening. My younger sister, closer to 30, is more ready for that kind of life.
I just need a sign. Every day I pray the Goddess will show me her plans and every day I’m reminded I’m a nobody. Born to make sure the royal family is in good standing, no dishes out of place, no dust on the portraits of their pathetically sad faces. It is not what I dreamed of at all.
I follow after Lyra, quiet and in my own mind as we leave the stables and head up the dirt path to the main castle. It’s a sprawling masterpiece, perched atop a large mountain range. A small area that had been molded to hold the castle and its various outbuildings - had been here for hundreds of years, and each time something else needed to be added, they had to chip away from the mountain. The main city is below in a large valley that opens up to a much more sizable location.
The castle itself is older, painted with different shades of gray along the bricks. The arches are large and loom over the pathways throughout. The windows are tall with black bars on them or stained glass emanating different colors. The main doors open up to an inviting room with various hallways pouring off of it. I rarely see that room. It is mostly for meetings with the Royal family, debriefings, war rooms or when there is an urgent matter that court can not attend in another location.
We sneak around the back of the castle to the servant entrance. Inside the bowels of the castle, the inner workings, is where all the real things happened. Here is the rest of my found family, the ones responsible for making everything happen to perfection. We are the ones who cook, clean, tinker, fix things, you name it. We do it. Gods forbid a Royal would have to do anything.
We snake around the kitchen and into the hallway to the laundry area. Lyra pokes her head in the room with the washing machines and whistles. I roll my eyes and cross my arms as I lean against the door frame.
“I thought we had work to do. This isn’t time for a quick hookup.” Her fiery gaze meets mine and I push off the door frame. “Don’t fuck too much, I’ll meet you later.” I pat her shoulder and continue on my way, hearing her squeal of excitement when Jones comes out from the room. What star crossed lovers. Blech.
I follow the winding hallway up to the spiral stairs, taking them two steps at a time. I have to pull up my dress so it won’t snag on the metal of the stairs. I hate dresses. I hate the things we have to wear. At night I usually throw them in the corner and lounge in clothes that are too big for me so I don’t have to feel so constricted.
The stairs end and I make my way outside, walking along the balcony to the end where I stop at a large door. I take a deep breath, brushing my hair with my hands and smoothing out my dress before knocking.
“Ma’am? It is Celeste.” I say quietly and wait until the door opens. An elderly woman looks back at me, nodding and ushering me inside. I quickly move in and make a beeline for the seat in the corner of the room. “What should we read today?”
Most days I am running around doing chores. Wednesdays though, I hang out with the oldest of the Royal family, and read to her. Basically babysitting. She is the closest thing I have to a friend and Goddess knows I need one. She slowly makes her way over to her chair, easing into it before letting out a soft sigh.
“Let’s continue the one we had, dearie.” She points to the black book on the table in front of her and I snatch it up.
“Chapter…. 26?” I try to remember where we were last time. She nods and I settle into the seat before starting to read.
