She’d brought him here.
But he would be the one to decide how it went.
Then the doors to the dining hall flung open and in came trays laden down with food.
For now, he would let her eat.
“And here we are,” he said. “Your dinner is served.”
Annick stared at the food that had now been laid out on the table, and then she looked back at the man who was responsible for ordering it.
“This is nice.”
She foolishly found that she wanted to cry.
She had read once, in her studies, that small kittens that were kept in cages from the time they were born still saw the bars in front of them even when they were removed, and staring at this feast laid out in front of her, she had to wonder if she had been seeing bars where there were none.
If she still treated herself as a prisoner. She often kept to corners of the palace. She did not indulge herself overmuch. Some of it was wanting to preserve that which she felt was important. Her integrity. Some of it was being afraid that wanting too much would make her little more than a dictator.
But... He had brought all this food from restaurants run by her people. It surely benefited them that this money had been spent.
Her stomach growled. She was hungry. And she was...delighted.
“I have never seen so much food.” She frowned. “Except I must have. In the early days of the palace. I was twelve when that ended. And I know I have memories from before. But...”
“It’s hard,” he said, his voice surprisingly tender. “When memories from before are too good.”
She nodded. “Yes, it is not bad memories that I turn away from. The bad reminds me why I keep going. It always has. It is a terrible thing to think of my parents dying. But their deaths reminded me of why I lived. But remembering how happy we were...that was too painful. Well and truly.”
“Annick,” he said. “You can enjoy the food.”
She practically fell upon it then. She was starving. But it had more to do with everything else than it did actual physical hunger.
She piled the plate high with salad, french fries, bread, pastry. Steak.
“Quite an assortment.”
“It is what I want. Isn’t that what this is about? What I want?”
“Yes.”
She suddenly felt a bit bratty and quite self-indulgent. But she wanted it. For just these few moments.
“Eat pastries first,” she said.
“Is that by royal command?”
“Unless you don’t want to. Eat what it is you want. But do not let protocol stop you from eating the pastries.”
“Annick, protocol never stops me from anything.”
She studied him. “No. I expect not.”
She had done so much reading about him. About The King and about Maximus. And she wondered which bits and pieces were true. She wondered if he was half so...wicked as the tabloids claimed.
And then she wondered why she was quite so interested. Yes, she had been prepared to offer her body to him. The very idea made her warm now. What would she have been? If she had been free? What foods would she have liked? Would she have had a score of lovers by now?
She very much liked the look of this man. She wanted to touch him. It stood to reason that if she were around other men who possessed a certain level of attractiveness, she might wish to touch them too. And if she had full freedom...she might have.
She turned her focus back to the food, but she could feel his eyes on her.
“You must realize, Annick, that your plan will not work.”
She looked at him again. “What?”
“Adviser. Guard. These are not official titles. It is not a statement. It is not strong.”
“And you think you can do better than this plan?”
“I know I can. It isn’t enough to have me by your side. You want ‘The King’? I will be the King, Annick. But you will be my wife.”