The King’s Innocent Bride

Women don’t interest me. Maybe that’s why I haven’t given it much thought of the years. Not since my dad warned me to keep an eye out for women who are only after a title and a comfortable rich life. I don’t want that. If I’m ever to get married, I want what my parents had. My dad told me I’d know the moment I laid eyes on her. That’s how it happened for everyone in our family. I find it hard to believe that such great men who have run this country so perfectly believe in such fairy tales, but they did and they do. My dad spoke about it with such conviction. I knew he believed it. I only nodded along, not wanting to tell him I didn’t believe in such things and that no one has ever caught my eye, let alone made we want to spend the rest of my life with them.

My eyes are drawn to a furor near the doors, making me sitting up a little straighter. The small figure moves closer and I wonder if that’s the child they spoke about. It’s hard to tell with the hood engulfing his body. I notice people behind him, but for some reason my eyes stay glued to the small figure getting closer to me. It’s like I’m in a trace.

I grit my teeth as the guard pushes the hooded figure, toppling him. I stand, my anger growing by the second as the guard pulls him to his feet. I freeze when long, rich, dark locks of hair come tumbling out in a wild mess. Big wide blue eyes with the thickest, longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen stare back at me, almost doe-like as the guard holds on to what is most definitely not a boy but a girl.

“It’s a girl,” the guard bellows, as shocked as the rest of us. Silence fills the room and no one sure what to say.

My eyes go to where the guard’s hand is locked around her arm. Her wrists are bound with plastic zip-ties. My vision hazes over with red when I see the small mark on the young girl’s cheek, as if someone backhanded her across the face. Her bottom lip wobbles as if she is about to cry, and the sight is like a sledgehammer to my heart.

How could someone hit such a precious creature? Not only has someone hit such beauty, but I know they have struck the face of their future queen, and for that someone will have to pay for dearly. Being this close to her now, there is no way anyone should have mistaken her for a boy, especially if they were close enough to her to strike her.

“Release her,” I growl, every cell in my body vibrating. The guard does as I command a little too quickly, catching the young girl off guard because she stumbles once again, only this time I’m in front of her almost instantly, catching her and bringing her to my chest.

The smell of sweet roses fills my lungs as her soft body melts into mine. Fuck, she’s small. Even smaller than I first thought. No wonder everyone thought she was but a small boy when she had the hood masking her face. I have to fight myself from burying my nose in her hair and finding out where that smell is coming from, to keep my hands from roaming all over her to see how tiny she really is, to make sure there are no other marks on her body that I’ll need to exact revenge for.

My body responds to her warmth against mine. A primal need pushes forward. Her eyes widen as she looks up at me with those big innocent blue eyes, making me wonder if she’s even aware of my hard cock pressed up against her. I wonder how old she really is. Not that is matters. She’ll be mine either way, even if I have to wait to make her mine. It might kill me, but I’ve waited this long for her to begin with. No wonder I never gave other women any notice. None came even close to her, and she hasn’t even spoken a word yet.

Her full pink lips part a little and she lets out a small gasp. Jesus, she’s so fucking perfect. I’ve never seen someone look so pure and angelic. Her cheeks are tinged with a trace blush, making me notice cute little freckles that dot her small upturned button nose and cheeks.

Anger rushes back once again as my eyes run over the bruise on her cheek. “Who struck her?” I bite out, looking over at the guard. Now his eyes grow big as he takes a step back. My anger is clear. I wrap my arm around the pixie-like creature in a protective hold when her body gives a jerk at the tone of my voice. I want to comfort her, to let her know she’s now safe. I won’t allow anyone to ever hurt her again.