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I sit up in bed gasping for air and reaching for Christian, who is standing by the window naked. He turns to me and our eyes lock. I reach my arms out to him.
“You do not have to fear him anymore, Maeve, or anyone else who seeks to harm you. They will find me waiting, and mercy is not something that I give out very often.
“Thank you.” I whisper, when we are holding one another again. “You saved me.”
I thank him over, and over, and over again.
“No, Maeve.” He holds my head in his hands. “Thank you for coming back to me after the way my church and family treated you. Thank you for being brave enough to love a Butcher.”
“My dear husband...” I cannot find more than a whisper so great is my devotion to him. “How can you thank me for what fate has brought together? If we had a choice, we would not have fallen in love. History will remember you as a mad king who defied the church to wed a witch, and me as the traitor and a whore who seduced the king that killed her mother.”
“Maeve...”
“No, Christian.” My finger touches his soft lips. “It is true and needs to be said. Our children will carry the burden of my sin, and their children, down to our very last kin. I chose you over my family honor, the same as you did for me.” My voice shakes as I speak. “How exciting our story will be when our heirs sit down to tell it.” My eyes widen with pleasure. “How scandalously romantic.”
Christian’s eyes brighten when he smiles. His face brightens. His spirit brightens, and it makes me happy with him. He shakes his fair head.
“You, my sweet, are far too bold to serve as a proper queen.”
“Imagine the tales that will be told of us riding into battle together... On our matched, black stallions under our flying flags...”
“That sounds adventurous, my sweet.” Christian is amused by my silly, romantic notions. “You will never ride into battle with me, unless we are going to war in our bed. I want you locked safely away behind the palace gates when I war with my enemies. Scandals and romanticism have no place in a queen’s head. She should be quiet and biddable, and spend her days feeding the poor and practicing her needlepoint—”
“Are you thinking to turn me into some domesticated dragon lady who plans fancy balls and runs the palace while you spend the days beating up your men on field?”
“Yes.”
No denial. No explanation. Only, a yes. He wants to turn me into a proper queen.
“Only if I can still be a Princess too.”
The flirty, some-what mouthy, teasing woman who keeps him smiling. The Princess throws back her head and laughs in delight when she is dancing a whirl in his arms. The Princess tells him to go shit himself when she is angry. She skips through the garden during their evening walks when she thinks no one is watching. She pulls him into a gazebo crawling with red roses to make love underneath their fragrant canopy.
Christian’s eyes flash before he kisses me. We kiss with our lips, our hands, and our bodies. I wrap my hand around his hard cock with a breathless sigh. He fell in love with the Princess.
“My precious, Maeve.” His voice is husky with desire. “You will always be my Princess.”
I could swoon when he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed. When Christian and I are lost in one another, nothing else matters. That is why our love is so strong. We had to turn our backs on everything to be together and so we did. They made us choose and we chose to be together. We decided that whatever hate others have for us or whatever the cost, it is a small price to pay for what we want.
“I knew from the moment you laid those beautiful eyes on me that you would be mine. The first time we kissed, I knew that I would never let you go. Thank you for bringing me out of the dark and into the light, Princess.”
“Fear not, Christian. I will always be here to bring you back to the light.”
“It will always be an honor to serve my wife, for it is you who saved me. What you met that day at the execution was a butcher who was blinded by the Cardinal’s promises of salvation, heaven and glory. I have all the glory I need right here in you.”
My eyes are wet more often than not since returning home. I caress his strong, handsome jaw smiling softly.
“My Butcher is no longer the Butcher.”
“I will always be the Butcher, Princess.” He rolls me over onto my back. “But I am my own man now. I Butcher for me. I Butcher for what is mine.”
How many has he killed? I will never ask him because I have already accepted him as he is. Christian kisses my face and throat. His lips suckle my dark nipples and kisses lower where they linger on the small mound of our growing child.
“They number in the thousands and I am not finished yet. There will be thousands more. Rebels and Christians alike will die until I have rid the land of those who do not obey my laws.” His breath tickles the soft curls covering his quest. My lover spreads me open with his able fingers. “Tonight, I am Butchering this.”
“Christian.” I gasp when his tongue delves inside me.
“My beautiful wife.” He murmurs his endearment. “My queen.”
I spread my knees wide and hold on to his silvery hair as he feeds on my aching flesh.
“My king.” I cry out. “My love.”
