Page 38 of Vows to a King
The more daring ones, like His Majesty King Adonis Vasilikos, opted for cliff diving, or exploring the dangerous coves and caves that dotted the coastline. Apparently, when her husband had promised her that he would consider giving up his…dangerous addictions, he meant that he would pull back his stunts to the less dangerous tier first.
Shocking both the crown council and the rapacious media, he had settled into his duties as the King surprisingly well. Not that it surprised Jemima at all.
Despite how he had been taught to view himself at an early age, her husband was a man of great thinking and daring. He also understood human nature well, better than any politician Jemima had ever encountered, and employed it to guide his negotiations strategically.
In just six weeks of his reign, not only had he signed a new trade treaty with Ephyra—dictating better terms than the previous one for Thalassos—but was already in talks for new business ventures for both countries. Despite most of his naysayers commenting on the fact that Thalassos and Ephyra had shared a contentious relationship for centuries, which King Aristos had tried to settle—in the worst way possible, by arranging a match between Adonis and the current queen years ago.
Like Adonis, Queen Calista hadn’t been for the match at all, knowing that King Aristos planned to absorb Ephyra into Thalassos gradually, with his spare son as its new king. That Adonis had defied the King who had commanded him to make the match had been public knowledge. But now, knowing the basis of the rift between him and his father, she couldn’t believe how he had withstood the offer of gaining his father’s approval and affection, in addition to the keys to a bloody kingdom. When it was the very thing her husband wanted, despite the mask he presented the world.
One night, when they both lay panting after he’d taken her hard and fast after a day of stressful negotiations with Ephyra’s own cabinet, the words had tumbled out of her mouth. “Why did you refuse Queen Calista’s hand? It would have given you everything you ever wanted—your own kingdom to rule, a beautiful consort, and… King Aristos’s approval.”
He had stilled so suddenly that every nerve in her sated body had tightened painfully. Burying her face in the soft cotton, she bit her tongue. Even braced for his retreat and an empty, cold bed for the rest of the night.
Her new husband indulged her every whim and desire—he even spent an hour every day with her brother, Zayn, playing and talking with the boy who had started calling him Ado, but his deepest wound was still forbidden grounds to her.
And it ate at her, that she couldn’t heal it for him, or at least, take the pain away for a while.
“You don’t have to answer that,” she whispered, trying to roll out from under his delicious weight. Years of trying to not anger her father had left her with an instinctive fear that she had crossed the line.
“No?” he said, throwing one muscled leg over her and arresting her retreat.
She shook her head and stared at this beautiful man who was slowly becoming the foundation of every truth and joy in her life. “I’m curious as to why you said no to the royal command, yes. But I won’t pay the price for it with your pain.”
A flicker of shock widened his gorgeous eyes. Gripping her hips, he pulled her closer and took her mouth in a kiss that spun dizzying joy into her senses. Was it reward or simply a need for deeper connection with her, she wondered. Would he admit it if it were the latter?
When she opened her eyes again, it was to discover that he had sat up on the bed and pulled her up with him.
Relief flooded her as she realized he wasn’t putting distance between them.
His gaze swept over her face with a curious expression. “I…knew, even before Adamos understood it, what my father’s plan was for Ephyra. I heard him say enough times, in outraged tones, that the tiny nation was no more a thorn in mighty Thalassos’s side. He meant to swallow it whole. And after his rejection of me all my life, I refused to follow his dictates and put that plan into motion. Even if that meant he would never accept me, as he declared minutes later. I had no choice then but to leave Thalassos because he actually banished me.”
Jemima pressed her cheek to his chest, clasping her hands around his waist. She wasn’t sure if she was comforting him or herself. “No wonder Queen Calista was looking at you like you were her favorite man in the entire world at the summit yesterday,” she said, managing to sound extra jealous. Not that she wasn’t.
“You are jealous,” he said, sounding…wary.
“Of any woman’s covetous gaze on my husband, yes. But it doesn’t mean I don’t know that I’m the only woman who has his gaze.”
Some of his tension deflated at her words and Jemima realized how much he needed to be trusted, to be seen as who he was—a man of integrity and principles, a man worthy of the crown. Not that he would ever ask for what he needed.
Although she was beginning to wonder if she and the crown of Thalassos were worthy of him.
“I think,” Adonis said, sifting his fingers through her tangled waves, “back then, Queen Calista appreciated the fact that she didn’t have to be the one to do the rejection. Neither was she unaware of my father’s devious plans from the start.”
Now, years later, Adonis had once again maneuvered the land mine with Ephyra—which had been brought to the cusp of war by the power-hungry crown council, with diplomacy and sheer honesty.
Weeks later, Jemima was still filled with admiration at not just his innovative approach but his plain decency toward a young queen.
Then there was the fact that even as he settled into the mantle of the crown better and better with each passing day, Adonis hadn’t once dismissed her opinions as extraneous or unnecessary. Hadn’t viewed her as an accessory.
A part of Jemima kept waiting for the other shoe to drop on their relationship, for him to render himself like any other man she had known—made of fragile ego and more than willing to punch down.
While the other part of her knew that she was already forging down a path from which there was no return.
* * *
A week later, having discharged Zayn to his young nurse and dismissed her own aides, Jemima was studying her schedule for the next two weeks and trying to not fall asleep when someone grabbed the papers from her and pulled her to her feet.
“I’m going to pass a new law soon,” her husband whispered at her temple, laughter dancing in his tone. “You look like a delicious dessert in that pink dress, my lady. And your king is hungry.”
