The Dragon Queen

Seven: Princess Ashden

Seven

Princess Ashden

I thought I would be allowed rest the morning of my birthday. But I had no such luck. Anu woke me up, knocking on the door again. “Here,” she said, and shoved a carefully wrapped package in my hand. The wrapping paper was pink, the color the palace stylists so often chose for me that had become known as my signature color. The color everyone assumed was my favorite.

I almost dropped it, I was so surprised by the gift. “You got me something?”

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” she said tersely.

I almost said, ‘Yes, but you hate me.’ I didn’t. Carefully, I tore it open. Inside, was a silver box, and when I took off the lid I wasn’t the least bit surprised by what was in there. It was an athame.

“It’s an athame,” she told me.

“I know what it is,” I said, pulling it out and examine it. The handle, instead of being black, was pink, with white gold accents. There was a cursive A on the handle. There’d been thought put into the gift, and that surprised me.

“Small and pointy, perfect to fit in those little handbags of yours,” she said, “now, get dressed. We’ve got training to do?”

“More running?”  I groaned.

“We’ll run, yes. But today you’re going to learn boxing.”

I frowned. “Boxing?”

She nodded.

“For the record, I hate you,” I said.

“For the record, I hate you too. Get dressed, Princess. We’ve got work to do.”

I groaned, closed the door, and went to get dressed in my workout gear. By the time that afternoon rolled around, and I was supposed to get ready for the ball, I was aching, bruised, and all I wanted to do was collapse.

I had no idea where Anu’s sudden obsession with me keeping myself came from, but I wished she would go back to her indifference. I had wanted to take a bath, to soak my wounds before I got dressed.

When I walked into the room, I found it filled with roses. Pink roses everywhere. Standing in the center of my room, by my golden, canopy bed with pink sheets was George. He wore a velvet blue sports jacket, a white shirt, and khaki pants. Ever the modern royal. He smiled when he saw me, like the devil he was.

“Happy birthday, Little Princess,” he said, his voice husky, his blue eyes darkening with desire as he spoke. He took something from his pocket. A small, light blue Tiffany box in his hand. My heart started to pound against my chest. This was it. He was going to make it official and give me my wedding ring.

I walked over to him. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he said.

He handed it to me, and I realized with relief that it was much too large to be a ring box. I opened it, and inside was a rose gold necklace, with a single, long stem rose charm. “Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful.”

He took it from the box. “Turn around, and I’ll put it on.”

I turned around, extremely conscious that I was a sweaty mess, in work out gear, and not looking attractive at all. If he minded, he said nothing. My blond hair was on a ponytail, and he swept it over my shoulder so it wouldn’t get caught. His fingers grazed my shoulder blades, making me gasp.

The last time he had touched me, he had been making me orgasm in the middle of the garden maze. I closed my eyes and pictured his face hovering over me as he played me the way he’d been playing me his whole life.

He finished clasping the necklace together, and then he kissed my neck. A groan escaped me, and I hated myself. He chuckled into my creamy, white skin. “Needy little thing aren’t you?” he said.

I scowled and pulled away. “You can’t do this to me. Not when I’m sweaty, and gross, and I’ve just had my ass kicked by Anu in boxing.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Anu is teaching you boxing?”

I sighed. “She’s decided it’s safer if I know self-defense. She doesn’t trust Samael.”  

“Good. Because I don’t trust him, either,” he said. “I’ll have to thank her for teaching you self-defense. That was smart. Princesses are always targeted in wars. They shouldn’t have to rely on someone else to save them if they can help it.”

I frowned. “You don’t trust him because you’re worried I’m going to fall in love with him. Don’t worry, I’ve already forbidden myself from doing it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?  Why?  I thought he’d become you’re new best friend once he was assigned as your knight, with all of that priceless information about home.”

I took a breath. “That’s exactly why I can’t get close to him. I came here when I was five years old. I haven’t been there in ages. All of the memories I have of that place are hazy, which means it will be easy to forget, to give up. If I talk to Samael, it will make home real again, and I’ll ache for it. And I can’t ache for something I’ll never have….the same way I can’t ache for you, because even though I’m your future queen I’ll never have you. Not really.”

Prince George stepped forward, and he placed his hands on my hips. “You are my future Queen, Ashden. Now, forever, and always. I will love you in all of the ways I know how, and in return all I ask is that you are mine. No one else’s.”

“What about Lancelot’s?” I challenged, not meaning it in a dig in the slightest.

He reached out and played with strands of my blond hair. “Lancelot is part of my life. Ideally, I would like to share a life with both of you. But, if you would like our married life to remain separate, I understand. I won’t force you into anything, Ashden. I respect you, despite what you might think, and I want you happy. But I feel, very much, that the three of us could be happy. And now that you’re eighteen….”

My heart started to pound against my chest.

“I think it’s time that the two of you get to play,” he said, grinning, and he kissed me again. This time a deep, slow, kiss on the lips.

When he pulled away, he added, “Two men ravishing you for a birthday gift. How would you like that, hmm? We can get started on making an heir early, make my Mother the grandmother I know she’s enthusiastic about being.”

I blushed. “What if I’m not good?”  

He pressed his forehead to mine. “Of course, you’ll be good. You’re everything that I’ve ever wanted.”

He kissed me once more, his hands squeezing my ass as he did so. “Tonight, you’ll be ours,” he whispered, and then he left me alone. Breathless, and desperate for him once more. I licked my lips, hating him for what he did to me.

When he was gone, I saw that there was something on my golden vanity. Another album. There was a post-it note on the front, with Haven’s scrawl on it. Track 9. I took the post-it note off, and I saw the album cover. A black and white picture of Bob Dylan with a guitar. I put the record on, finding track nine with the needle. And then I lay on my bed clutching the album sleeve to my chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world while the song played.

“When the rain is blowing in your face

And the whole world is on your case

I could offer you a warm embrace

To make you feel my love....”