Masked (Royally Hot 2) - Page 16

We said our goodbyes and I seriously considered sitting watch outside her house all night. Wrenching myself away from her was hard as hell, but I knew that if my presence was missed at suppertime in the castle there was a remote chance guards might be sent to scour the countryside for me.

I couldn’t allow that.

I wasn’t even close to ready to tell Iris that I wasn’t some carpenter who “happened” upon her farm.

So, I walked back and slipped into the ruined tower unseen, ate when the appropriate time arrived and then returned to my room to jerk off over thoughts of having her in my bed. Or better still, in the room below my tower.

Chapter 8

Randal

In the early hours of the following morning, just before I was about to rise and head back to Iris, there was a knock at my bedchamber door.

“Leave it there, I’ll have it when I want it,” I said, annoyed at whichever servant had decided to bring me breakfast so early. My temper was known to be worse in the mornings, a reputation I’d cultivated to allow myself more freedom during the day.

“King Bramain wants to see you. Now. You’re to go straight to his bedchamber.”

This motherfucker right here.

“King Bramain can go fuck himself although we both know he’s long lost the any abilities in that department.”

There was a moment, and I wondered if I’d been surly enough to make him leave. Then my door rattled and I was fucking glad I remembered to lock it last night.

“I’m to bring you, willing or not.”

“Really? How do you propose to do that? How many men are with you out there?”

Another pause, then, “Six.”

“And you think that’s going to be enough?” Fucking royalty and castles. All I wanted was to spend the day with the love of my life. The memory of touching her yesterday was only the bait on the hook. I was addicted already. I needed my hands on her. My lips kissing every inch then forcing her up against the side of her barn and making her plead my name. “Go tell Giles Aaron I’ll see my father when I’m good and ready. I know that’s who really gave you these orders. Now fuck off and leave me be. Or do I have to pull rank?”

“No, your majesty. I’ll deliver your message.”

Sometimes it was damn good to be the prince. Even the bastard prince.

Still, I knew I couldn’t afford to ignore the summons. My father’s chief adviser, Giles Aaron, had assumed almost all of the king’s duties since he’d taken to his death bed four years ago, and was effectively ruling in all but name. If he summoned me on the king’s authority, it would be foolish to defy him.

And even more foolish to give any hint of where I was headed today.

There was an uneasy truce between Giles and Patara. When she married my father and became queen just a year after the two of us were found, following the duke’s demise, Giles had voiced his objections and been ignored. He mistrusted her and she him, but I couldn’t rely on her influence to stay his hand if he decided he had reason to dislike my body being attached to my neck.

Once I was dressed and clean, I put on a fresh shirt, clean britches and my boots. Then from my dressing table, I grabbed the thing that I both needed and hated when moving through the castle unhidden.

My mask.

Made soon after I arrived here at the castle it was made of Damascus steel, silver and bronze, fold-forged and oil quenched. Dark ripples of carbon interwoven with lighter layers of silver. Lightweight and strong, it protected others from the discomfort of seeing the horror that was my face.

But more than that, beneath the mask nobody could see any lingering resemblance to the king. The only reason I still lived was because I agreed to wear it.

Once I was satisfied with my appearance, I headed for my father’s bedchamber and was met by sneering looks from his guards but all I could think about was Iris. The way she smelled, the softness of her skin. I knew there was no way I could offer her a life, I barely had one myself, but deep down, I knew I had to find a way. The little life I had without her wasn’t worth living if I didn’t have her by my side.

Few in the castle knew what my relationship to the king was. That might seem strange to outsiders, but within those walls was an entire small town of its own, with tradespeople, courtiers, visiting dignitaries, guards, minor royals, advisers and servants. One man living in a tower nobody else wanted to visit hardly even warranted a footnote.

“Let me by. I was summoned.” I met their eyes and they moved aside without a word, but I heard them as I went in.

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