Page 29 of Surrender

In a gesture of respect, as befits one valiant warrior to another, His Royal Highness Prince Kylar graciously offers you the opportunity to discharge your obligation and pay your debt of honor. Please present yourself at the door of his chambers this evening at sunset.

Below, scrawled in a firm hand,

Bring my shirt.

Talia read through it twice, flooded with embarrassment. She’d hoped he had forgotten her drunken bet. They hadn’t been alone together since the moment he stepped out of his father’s cell and found her on her knees, with Balam about to shove his cock in her mouth.

That night, Kylar and the king carried Haldor to the star portal that led to Earth. Talia accompanied them, since she was the only one with experience in using the portal. She sent him through it, unconscious and barely breathing, with a message to the Federation requesting that he be treated with the respect and honor due to a Gadolinian hero.

Though the battle was long and fierce, the Vikings drove the remaining Tabun back to the portal they’d used to invade the planet. They fled to their world, dragging their wounded with them. The king’s warriors stood guard over it day and night, to make certain no one tried to return.

Every moment since then, Kylar had been occupied with affairs of state. Astrid kept her informed.

“Father and Kylar have come up with a way to seal the portal to Tabun forever. He’s gathering workers to cover it with stones. They’re going to build a dam, reroute the river, and flood that part of the valley. If the Tabun somehow manage to break through the stone barrier, they’ll drown.”

Talia had a private meeting with Sigrun, who looked heartier than she’d expected after his imprisonment. The king expressed his thanks on behalf of the citizens of Trondheim. A handsome man, he reminded her of Kylar in other ways besides his looks. Caring and warmth covered a core of steel.

He’d taken her hand and led her to sit beside him. “We are alone here, just the two of us. Tell me truly – will Haldor live?”

“He is in good hands, Your Highness. On Earth, we have tools to repair the damage done to him and make him good as new. But it will take time for his body to heal. I tucked a note into his pocket. Vouched for his honor and bravery and asked that he be cared for as they would care for me.”

She flashed him a smile. “I can’t vouch for his temperament though. He may arrive back on Gadolinium cranky and starving after spending weeks, possibly months, without roast boar or honey mead – or the company of a willing wench.”

The king chuckled and changed the conversation. “Your father’s name. Ander’s son. I might have guessed. One has only to look at you to know Viking blood flows through your veins.” He gave her a once-over then shot her a grin with a hint of wickedness in it, just like his son’s. “Fair skin, fair hair – and the body of a warrior queen.”

She grinned back. Old though he may have been, he radiated an air of virility. “I can see where your son gets his grace – and his charm.”

“Kylar is a good lad. He’ll make a find king someday. Once he has the right woman by his side. My warriors have no idea how many times I turned to my Astra for counsel. Speaking of counsel,” he went on, “I am told it was your plan that brought us victory over the Tabun.”

“Not mine, my lord. One I stole from a great general who thought it up long ago.”

He gave her a keen appraisal. “No man would think of sending a woman in. My guess is that he took advice from someone even wiser. That’s what made the Kyrillian a great general. Like me, I suspect he had a woman beside him whose ideas he listened to. As my son did to yours.”

Was the old man playing matchmaker? Talia wondered if Kylar had been subjected to hints about her appropriateness as a mate for a future king. Apparently, her Nordic ancestry rendered her fit in Sigrun’s eyes, despite the fact that she’d been raised on Earth. Or maybe because of it. The king was a shrewd leader. Like the rulers of old, he may have recognized the value in creating alliances through family ties.

They went on to talk of the differences between life on Earth and on Gadolinium. The king refrained from playing marriage broker any further. To her relief, there were no awkward meetings arranged between her and Kylar.

Talia stayed busy. Dressmakers required endless fittings to replace her lost wardrobe. Astrid sent a stream of men and women for her to interview for temporary staff positions. She’d send for new assistants from Earth eventually, but she planned to wait until Gadolinium had recovered from the invasion. Rebuilt the city of Trondheim and grieved their dead.

She, too, was grieving. Nelson had been a dear friend as well as a colleague. Talia wasn’t ready to have someone else step into his place.

But no matter how busy she kept, her thoughts constantly strayed to the dashing prince. She tried to talk herself back to rationality, chalking her obsession with him up to those blasted hormonal surges. People on Earth had been wise to do away with them through science.

Without injections to control them, Talia found it impossible to concentrate. During fittings for her gowns, she’d imagine Kylar stripping them off her. She suggested adjustments to the fastenings, never admitting the real purpose for them was to make the prince’s task easier if she found herself in that position again.

Talia felt a naughty thrill when the dressmaker informed her Gadolinian women didn’t wear undergarments beneath their skirts. Kylar’s fingers, histonguewould have easy access.

If she ever saw him again.

By the third day, anticipation had given way to annoyance at being ignored. He’d seemed so eager. And now – nothing.

Then she’d received the summons. All day she’d been unable to think of anything else. Her stomach in knots, her palms damp. And not just her palms. Her pussy was dripping wet.

She couldn’t stop imagining the evening to come. A stab of arousal shot through her every time she pictured herself draped over his hard thighs, skirt pulled up to display her bare bottom. Though she was nervous, Talia ached to feel his touch again. Even if it was from his open palm lashing her backside.

Would he be dressed? Or would he spank her while he was naked, like he’d been the night he’d stolen into her room? She’d never touched his cock. But she’d felt the heat, the rigid length of it against her mound. Would he take her hand tonight, wrap it around the rock-hard shaft?

The hours dragged by. She tried on first one new gown then another, finally settling on a dress in a shade of blue that nearly matched the color of the gown she’d borrowed from Astrid. The bodice was low-cut, but not as low as the one she’d worn that night at dinner. The full-length skirt hugged the curve of her hips then flared out.

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