25

SOLEIL

Brice takes his seat shortly followed by the five others around the table. He pulls me down onto his lap when I'm the only one left standing.

I feel awkward, nonetheless I try get comfortable on his muscular thighs.

"Je t'ai toujours pensé dramatique mais romantique?" says Didier. I always pegged you as dramatic but a romantic?

I haven't seen him around in years since he transferred from Milton.

"Please don't start. He's had her in his dorm room and he wasn't even trying to hide it," adds Hidde.

My ears heat in embarrassment as I think back to the first tutoring session we had at the Eagles Row dorms.

"Has she been upstairs the whole time?" asks Olivier looking a little flushed.

He's older than I remember and is going to be a heart breaker at the rate he's going. I wouldn't have guessed he was younger than the others if I hadn't met him as a pigeon back in Grade 8.

"She's quite alluring but couldn't you give her time to get dressed after you..." Didier leaves the sentence hanging.

"I think she's being held against her will. Soleil, if you need help just blink," prompts Baptiste.

I stare back wanting the ground to open up and swallow me. I can't help it but after a beat with all eyes on me, I blink.

The table erupts into laughter.

"Enough!" Brice slams his hand on the table. "She was bound to blink it's only natural,"

"Brice, are you blushing?" pokes Louis which sends the table into another round of laughter.

Even Hidde who never seems to be amused by anything chuckles silently while shaking his head.

"I think they're drunk," Brice says to me in explanation.

I look around the table and everyone seems to have a glass of something dark. This may not even be their first round.

Brice waves his hand in a come forward motion. The doors behind us open. Soon after a couple of servants enter wheeling in serving carts. One takes the left side of the table, and the other takes the right. Starting with Brice, filled plates are sat down in front of each man as they move.

"I'm the guest of honour and I don't even get my own chair?" I mumble to Brice.

"You have the best seat in the house."

"You said I like to eat so where's my plate," I add to my list of grievances.

"You'll be eating with me."

"For someone so rich you're acting really stingy right now."

Brice cuts into the plate and the meat is on the rare side.

"Here," he offers.

I rear my head back like a petulant child. "The meat isn't cooked."

"Of course, it is. The chef simply didn't nuke all the nutrients out of it."

"Doesn't matter. I prefer my meat well done and nuked. This one's bleeding all over the plate."

"Fine try the veggies."

He pokes a few onto his fork. It's less than a spoonful of carrots and peas. Not wanting to embarrass him by being even more disagreeable, I open my mouth and chew.

They're hard and bland.

"What now?" Brice asks after chewing on a piece of his bloody steak.

His eyes haven't left my profile while mine have been looking over people's heads and all around in an effort not to look down.

Hyper aware that we're being watched, I lean back to say, "There's no flavour."

"There's the salt and pepper," he points to the shakers with his fork before taking another bite.

"What? These veggies need to go back to the pots. You add the spices while cooking not after."

The corner of his mouth lifts with a hint of a smile. I'm glad he finds this amusing.

He promised me a better dining experience than school and this is sub-par at best. As soon as we're alone I'm going to complain about how this experience was below the bar.

I chance a look at Hidde who I'm most familiar with. He's already looking my way. He offers a reassuring smile returning his attention to his meal which gives me the confidence to look around.

That's when I notice all eyes on us.

Feeling self-conscious, I shrink back into Brice's chest. I don't think he can be too comfortable eating with me on his lap but that doesn't stop him from clearing half the plate.

He sets his fork and knife to the side and wraps his hands around my waist, shifting me further back onto his crotch. I have nowhere to hide, stuck between an audience and a hard place.

"Mon Dieu," Didier whispers.

"I think she's good for him," Olivier comments in between bites. He's the only one who's sole focus has been his meal.

"Stop staring," Louis kicks Didier under the table and they all go back to their food realising they've been caught.

"Do you want something else?"

Nah, I'm good. It's already late and I'm not trying to upset my stomach with what seems to be a damned, near-raw diet.

"No, I'm fine."

The door opens and I see Jacques limp in on a walking cane. For some reason, tension settles in the room. The once jovial manner they were jesting with now gone. He sits on the other end opposite Brice and set apart from everyone else.

I look in askance at the man behind me only to find his jaw ticking and no he's not chewing. He's really mad and I can take a good guess at who.

A plate is brought out for Jacques while everyone else continues eating in silence. No one has acknowledged his entrance or presence except the man behind me who won't stop glaring.

"Dessert?" He asks looking down at me.

I nod, yes, taking his change of pace in stride. If I was thinking I would have said no but the mere suggestion of sugar is an automatic yes from me.

A servant comes out with a dessert tray and sets a glass bowl of chocolatey goodness in front of everyone. Except me, I think I'm still "sharing" with Brice.

My force of habit has me drawing the bowl forward and reaching for the spoon. I plan to eat this one by myself. I hope I'm not disappointed but prepare for the worst.

It's... not bad.

I close my eyes as the chocolate fudge ice-cream mixes with the chocolate brownie. The sponge cake texture mixed with the cream is decadent. I have a sweet tooth, and this hits the spot. The chef sucks but the baker... I may kidnap him when I make my escape.

I don't realise what a greedy gut I have until I hear Brice shout a firm no down the table. The servant's white-gloved hand stops mid-air in front of the lone diner on the other end.

He now has everyone's attention.

"Is the bread pudding ready?" Brice asks the servant.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good, serve it to Le Penn. We wouldn't want to offend his sensitive palate."

A twisted smile sits on Brice face and Olivier lets out a guffaw which is quickly stifled by his brother's elbow. He schools his features and waits along with everyone else.

What is going on here? I feel like I walked into a scene mid-script and there's something I'm missing.

Le penn is seething, so much so his face is beet red. I lean back into Brice squirming a little under the weight of his glare. His hand drops from my waist to my thigh, giving me a reassuring squeeze.

"Show's over. I need to put Soleil to bed. Goodnight."

He stands up, easily lifting me up and off him as he sets me down. Dessert forgotten, we walk to the door hand in hand. I'm relieved the charade is finally over. I can't stand awkward settings.

"Brice," Jacques calls before we exit the dining room.

The man in question stops. He doesn't even bother to turn around when he says, "Only my friends and family have the privilege of calling me Brice. You will address me as 'My Lord' from now on."

Not even waiting for his response we walk out. My short legs trying to keep up with his long ones. I try and make sense of my scattered thoughts but all I manage to put together is that Jacques is in the pits.

Brice can be rude but I've never seen him act that cold. Speaking of cold, I need to go back to my bed before I find myself living in his version of Siberia.

"Are you going to take me back now?" I ask as soon as we enter the bedroom.

"No," is his clipped response as he begins to undress.

"You're going to get me in trouble. I don't have permission to be off school grounds and I'm not you."

He just stares at me as he loosens the buttons on his waistcoat. He slips his hand into his pocket to fish out his cell phone. With one hand he scrolls on screen while he unbuttons his shirt with the other.

I don't want to be a perve watching him strip even though he doesn't seem to mind. I walk around the bed staring at the dark walls and murals. The dial tone rings around the room as he places the call on loud speaker.

"Mr Le Roux, need I ask?" comes the exasperated voice of what sounds like our principal.

"No, its best you don't. Just wanted to inform you that I'm at Maverick Manor with Soleil Spellman. If anyone tries to reach her, you can send the call through to the my private line."

"Ahhh sure that's not a problem. However, Mr Hugo only sent a list of six names. I was under the impression it was a boys club."

I can tell the poor man is trying to make sense of a situation he seems to have little control over.

"That hasn't changed." Without greeting or salutation, Brice hangs up. "Problem solved."

Make that no control.

I can't believe the sports captain called the principal this late at night to inform him of a major violation in school policy as if it was just a regular call.

Brice, now in boxers, pulls back the duvet and gets in.

"Are you going to stand there all night?"

I can't help it. I'm in shock. My mind is still trying to compute why and how he has this much power.

I gingerly walk over to the other side of the bed and join him. It's massive. It was probably assembled in here. The red silk sheets beneath me are cool and soft. I take a deep breath and allow myself to sink into the mattress.

"Why do they let you get away with everything?" I find myself asking with my eyes closed.

"Because I can. Who's going to stop me?"

His answer makes me both envy and despise him. I've always followed the rules.

"Your parents should have," I shoot back thinking on how I was raised.

The pre-requisite of my freedom was that I should govern myself respectably.

"My parents are worse," he rebuts, drawing my back flush with his chest.

I swallow. Great. He was ruined from the beginning. He is probably ungovernable.

I close my eyes and feel his hand slide up to cup my breast. My nipples perk up.

I'm overwhelmed and mentally exhausted.

I place my hand over his, lacing our fingers together and slide his palm down to my midsection in an effort to keep him at bay.

"Goodnight Soleil." He kisses the back of my head.

I'm not sure if I say it back before I find myself drifting off into the land of dreams.

*

"You must eat Ma'am."

I turn back from the fireplace and look at the handmaiden with the bowl of porridge lifted in offering. She's dressed in a simple red dress, the square neckline lined in gold revealing the decolletage of her small, pale frame.

"Any word on Merovech's return?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Then get out, you and your slop."

I don't shout. I'm too tired to shout but I am firm and clear.

Once the maid leaves, I go back to the large bed that seems even bigger now that I'm alone, and cry myself to sleep.

I'm still tired from the restless slumber I endure most nights when the doors are thrown open.

Who would dare barge into my chambers without announcing themselves? I sit up and rub the fatigue from my eyes preparing a few choice words.

"I heard you were being a weak bitch."

My heart stops before its starts again beating an excited rhythm.

It's him.

He's back.

Before I can free myself from the sheets to stand, I find myself in his arms.

It feels good to hold him, smell him, hear from him. He's here. I wouldn't believe it if I weren't in his arms.

He wraps a hand around my hair and jerks my head back. I look at his handsome face curtained by his long, dark hair. Matching dark brows and bright grey eyes stare down at me with the intensity of a storm.

"Why haven't you been eating?" he growls.

I haven't heard from this man in weeks and now that he's back he wants to talk about my meals? Merovech has always been aloof but this is too much.

"I thought you were dead," I choke out in a mixture of  receding sadness and rising anger.

"And leave you here for someone else to claim? Never."

He closes the gap between us and crushes his lips against mine. His kisses are hard and demanding forcing me to open up so he can taste more of me. He sucks on my tongue and I let out the moan of pleasure he's kindling.

His hand is still at my nape, holding me in place while the other trails down my body taking a hold of my breast through the thin slip of a dress I wear to bed. He nips at my lips a few more times before trailing his kisses further down.

Soon after, a tear echoes through the room. I look down to see the white gown ruined, my chest exposed.

Merovech pushes me flat on the bed and climbs on top, taking my nipple into his mouth. I moan at how sensitive they've become. He continues a lazy trail down, his hair and lips caressing my flesh. I wish he would hurry up. I miss him – feeling him inside me.

I'm in a heated haze waiting for his mouth to  reach my core. When he doesn't, I'm forced to open my eyes, a protest resting on the tip of my tongue.

I swallow my words when I notice the rage in his. I look back at him in askance wandering what has set him off.

"You're pregnant."

It's not a question - more of a statement.

To be fair, I haven't told anyone. I don't allow anyone to touch or bathe me. I'm hardly showing. But he's not just anyone – he's my lover, my husband, my king. I tried to tell him, but he was unreachable. Any letters I sent, I never heard back from. I thought he was dead.

I nod my head too nervous to say anything seeing how upset he looks.

"And you haven't been eating?" he shakes me, hands now on my shoulders.

I look away but he refuses to let it go and takes a forceful hold of my chin.

"I can't. It makes me sick," I try explain.

I maintain eye contact so that he knows I'm not lying.

"It will pass. From now on, I don't want to hear reports of your stubbornness."

Stubborn!? Does he think I'm doing this as an act of 'womanly wilfulness'. Doesn't he realise what is at stake? The danger he left me in?

"If anything happened to you then what would happen to me, to them? They would be a threat to the new king so I thought it best to... not put much hope in this. NO ONE knows."

His jaw tightens as his eyes search mine. His hand trails down to my stomach and lower still to tear off the rest of my dress. I lay naked, exposed and vulnerable before him.

I watch as he unlaces his breeches. He takes them off along with his tunic. His body is more defined than I remember, from his biceps to his core. I can only imagine how tough it has been on the battlefield and how many bodies he has massacred. It still amazes me that he doesn't have a scratch despite being a seasoned warrior.

He settles between my thighs, the hot flesh between his legs heavy against my core. I throw my head back in pleasure at the mere contact.

He takes hold of his dick, teasing my clit with a few strokes before he thrusts into me. The intrusion is familiar yet sudden. I gasp at the unexpected filling. I close my eyes and revel in it.

"Look at me," he demands and my eyes snap open at his command.

"No one threatens my queen."

He pulls out and pushes into me again.

"No one threatens my child."

And again.

"No one threatens my family."

"Merovech!" I cry out as he builds a steady, rapid rhythm moving in and out of me.

"Soleil? Soleil!"

I'm jerked awake by a strained voice in my ear. As I come to I realise the firm grip around my bare ass cheeks. I sit up and look down to find I'm on top of Brice.

I stare down at the ridges of his washboard abs and trail my gaze up to his familiar grey eyes and the jet-black hair that's much shorter than the man in my dreams.

A shiver runs through me when I remember the passion and love I felt only a moment ago in a different time and different place. I close my eyes and instinctively grind myself against the hard flesh beneath me.

"Soleil..." Brice calls in warning.

I snap my eyes open and look down embarrassed as if coming back to my senses and what I'm doing. I'm not even wearing any underwear.

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry. This is embarrassing."

I scramble to get off him. It's already morning, the light breaking through the slivers of his partly closed curtain.

He stands up and follows me. I turn around and look down at the wet spot in front of his crotch in mortification. Is that me or him?!

"You're soaking wet. What were you dreaming about?"

He continues, stalking me like a predator. I look everywhere but at him. He takes a hold of my chin forcing my gaze, a move that is so familiar.

"Tell me," he commands.

"It was a wet dream, duh," I chuckle trying to play it cool. "I'm pretty sure you're familiar with those."

I smack his hand away breaking free and walk around him.

"Who was he? The man in your dreams."

I roll my eyes heaven wards and throw my head back because I do not want to tell Brice that I'm having intimate dreams about him. His ego doesn't need the boost.

"Who said it was a man?" I throw back.

"Fine, you were calling out a name. What's their name?"

I take a beat to think about it and then it comes back to me.

"Merovech."

I regret saying it as soon as the word leaves my mouth because that sounds like a male name. I also note how his eyes widen and a look I can't place passes over his face.

I cock my head to the side in wonder.

"Does that name mean anything to you?"

"And what did I call you?"

I want to call him rude but I don't think it would have any effect. The thought sparks another scene from my dream where he was his typical rude self.

"A weak bitch."

My queen.

And he was a king but he need not know all of that.

I don't know whether to be worried or annoyed by the grin that stretches across his face. I'm definitely suspicious.

He stands directly in front of me and takes my hands in his. That weird feeling of vertigo rolls through my stomach and for a brief second the world around us blurs as I stare into his eyes.

When everything comes back into focus we're in my dorm again.

He leans in, his lips so close to mine I think he's going to kiss me.

"We have a lot to discuss ma petit. Soon."

Sans kiss, he's gone as if he was never there and last night never happened but the bird's nest staring back at me in the mirror proves that I had a rondevoux with Brice and waters I had no intentions of getting into.

24 | 05 | 2023

WC 3412

Human beings in a mob,

What's a mob to a king?

What's a king to a God?

What's a God to a non-believer who don't believe in anything?

~ No Church In The Wild | Jay-Z | Kanye West

Watch the throne ;)