Page 126 of Prize for the King
“Feel that?” he asks, pulling my hand roughly to his bulge. “That’s how much I liked it. They are yours from now on. Put them in their place.”
“Can I select a few candidates for positions in the council, should some open?” I ask, fluttering my lashes at him.
“Of course. Do whatever you want.”
I am giddy, my heart racing from what I just did. Not only has no one punished me, the ministers actually did what I said. Yes, it required Magnar’s support, but he gave it freely. I gaze into his silver eyes, deep gratitude welling in my heart.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much it meant. I am in your debt.”
He smiles with pleasure and lifts my chin up to give me a soft kiss. “A debt? We can settle it in bed tonight. You, me, my cock, your cunt—what do you say?”
I giggle. He looks so handsome like this, mischievous and roguish despite his exhaustion.
“To you, always yes.”
He kisses me again, but when I try to lick my tongue inside his mouth, he pulls back. “No, love. I still have to sit through their reports, which will hopefully be more efficient thanks to your intervention.”
He rubs his forehead, the shadows returning to his face, and I sigh. His tenacity is admirable, but I worry he’ll push himself too hard.
“I’ll hasten them if they grow too poetic or squabble like last time,” I promise, kissing his brow. “And maybe we’ll be donein an hour instead of three.”
When the ministers pile into the room, each carrying a sizable book, I give them a grim smile and walk outside to get Raduna, who stands guard in the corridor.
“I’ll need you to grab Arvi and Khay, and then you’ll take the ministers’ books to Idrina. She’ll tell you what to do. Oh, and tell her I want her personally combing through Ronan’s book. She’d better find something.”
He bows with a smile. “Yes, my queen.”
See, Ronan? That’s how you treat a queen.
Idrina’s advice turns out to be golden. With their books in my possession, the ministers grow manageable, even Ronan, though he keeps shooting me resentful looks. Normally, commanding a bunch of older, respectable men would be an excruciating experience—but I only have to look at Magnar’s tired face for my resolve to strengthen.
He’s protected me many times in the past, and this is an area where I can protect him and his time. So I cut in, again and again, whenever a minister strays into flowery language or takes too long shuffling his notes.
“We don’t need that metaphor, Minister. Just the numbers, please.”
“Do you need a minute to gather your thoughts? I wish you had come prepared.”
“Next time, distill your report into three sentences containing the crucial information. Thank you.”
They grow flustered and angry, their pride wounded, but no one opposes me. The meeting finishes in forty-five minutes, and Magnar laughs after they leave, shaking his head.
“You were magnificent. You know, I tried to manage them at the start. I’d use threats to make them get to the point, but they never reacted well.”
I smile, shaking out my arms. My back and neck hurt from the constant tension, but it was worth it.
“I want you to take the two hours I just saved you and take a nap,” I say, hands hidden behind my back to keep them from nervous wringing.
I might manage the ministers, but Magnar is not my subordinate. He’s headstrong, and he’ll probably ignore me. It takes me aback when he smiles and nods.
“Yes, bossy wife. But you’ll have to lull me to sleep.”
He leads me to my bedroom, and I draw the curtains. The windows are closed, the autumn day cold and windy, though the sun peeks through the clouds from time to time. Magnar pulls me into bed and winds his arms around me, purring contentedly.
“Mmm… Wake me up in two hours. Promise, love.”
“I will. Now sleep.”
He’s out like a light, breathing deeply, his face peaceful. It feels tempting to fall asleep with him, but then, I wouldn’t wake up on time, and Magnar would be cross. He’d never let me rope him into a nap again, which would be disastrous. I have to plan for the long term.
