To Wed A King

The Love That Still Hurts

Lucan watched the smoke from his hookah glide slowly upwards, in front of his eyes. His eyes squinted, his hand coming over to lightly massage his chest. He could not sleep. He rarely did on nights like these. Nothing mattered. Nothing could move him. Not even the contents of the letter he had read. Not the kisses he knew they had exchanged. Nothing at all.

He slowly closed his eyes, and like an invitation that the memories gladly accepted, they came flashing back, the screams, the blood, the yells.

He felt like he was drowning again, the water filling his throat, scouring it, his body cold and helpless as he watched his own sister being taken over and over again by those princes.

She had been buried in an open grave, and once he was resuscitated himself, he went t9 her grave himself. Her legs were soared, her body so defiled that he could not bring himself to touch her, lest it ruined the remaining purity she had.

She was the closest thing he had felt to love, and it hurt deep down, even now that he has conquered Corvalon. It didn't satisfy the yearning for blood that he felt that night.

He had been nothing but a prince, and his father had wanted nothing to do with Corvalon, and neither did he entertain the thought of war or revenge for his own daughter.

There was no man he hated more than his own father. There was no one he hated to even dream of more.

His father, Emperor Arnold, before him, had always hated his won daughter. She was older than Lucan and had diminished his power by being a girl.

Lucan had grown up watching the way his father auctioned Eliana even to mere slaves, and he had only managed to rescue her by the sheer threat in his blood.

He could still hear the way she called his name. The way she smiled, the beautiful dimples she had. Her light brown eyes that she had gotten from her mother. Her smile. The light in her eyes whenever he would bring her flowers. Or ice. Or pat her hair.

She craved the love of a father, and he gave it to her in ten folds. He gave it to her more than she could consume. That was the only thing he did not regret. Even though they were from different mothers, his mother a mistress from the slave lands that had been proven to be capable of a male heir, and even though her mother had been the one who poisoned his mother to death, he still loved her. No matter what.

Seeing her body, the unholy way they touched her, the way they had used their teeth, their habds, their body...

He opened his eyes, his lips parting, his chest heaving hard. The memories still hurt. Everything stung every single tile he thought of it.

The way they had made her wear close to nothing just like Adeline had earlier. The way they had forced her to dance with every one of the princes of Corvalon, from the younger ones, to the eldest, and then proceeded to take turns on her, one by one, forcing their animal desires on her, simply because her father had given her to them as a bride.

It was the very first night that she had arrived at Corvalon, and she slept outside that night, in a shallow, open grave, dead.

Lucan drew a long puff from his hookah, just as the door opened, and Claude walked in.

"Your Majesty."

He turned to her, then swallowed, his eyes closing again. She went around to him, then slowly sat down on the floor beside him, stretching her legs.

"You can rest."

He sighed, then slowly leaned back, his eyes closing slowly. She wrapped her hand around his head, her fingers lightly caressing his hair, her eyes watching his.

"I apologize, Your Majesty. I should have taken greater care, so she does not..."

"Shhh..." He said, letting go of the pipe. "Do not speak."

Claude nodded, caressing his face. It was not always that she got to be this close to him. To be the woman he found a bit of comfort in. She hated to see him like this, but she was glad it brought her here. She was glad it helped her draw closer to him.

She leaned forward, then kissed his forehead, her hand resting right above his heartbeat. She waited for his objection, and when none came, she moved lower, kissing between his eyes. His eyes were closed, and she kissed the lids, her fingers carefully caressing his chest, downto his stomach. His skin was smooth under her fingers, and it only helped to heighten the desire and the maddening attraction she felt towards him.

She let her kisses touch the tip of his nose, then the corner of his lips. She hesitated as she watched his lips with utmost hunger. She needed to do it, taste him on her tongue, let him explore the insides of her mouth, but she also did not want to ruin the way he was leaning on her like this.

With a sigh, she went back to kissing his face, her fingers caressing his skin, his face, his chest, his arm.

Lucan did find a bit of peace, and even though he did not sleep, staying awake even though his eyes were closed, the knowledge that she was there helped calm him. Not like he cared much for Claude herself, but she did know how to be around when he did not want to be alone.

Slowly, he felt her lips lightly brush his. His eyes opened, and she drew back, her lips parting, fear in her eyes. Without a word, he moved his arm, cupped the back of her head, and brought her to him.

Her lips were extremely ready, and he took them, hoping her kisses were potent enough to help him forget. It wasn't, but it at least distracted him.

Claude held on to Lucan tight, her heart pounding, her chest heaving with excitement. Slowly, he let her go, and she smiled, her lips tingling. It had felt just as perfect as she had imagined it would be.

She went back to kissing his face, occasionally pecking his lips too, right until the day broke. He never indulged her, but he didn't stop her, and that was more than enough for her.