I held the paper loosely in my hands, a smile on my lips. I couldn’t help but love the headline.

“FIERY FOREIGNER SMACKS KING!”

The photograph was of Bryce in the act of slapping me in the face for my original comment. The article went on to detail how a sumptuous foreigner had slapped the King, seemingly unprovoked. They speculated on some possible reasons and actually weren’t so far off when they suggested I had whispered an insult in her ear.

It hadn’t been an insult. More like a promise, if anything.

As I tossed the paper aside and sipped my morning coffee, I wondered how Bryce had reacted to the present I had sent to her room. The boxing gloves were antique, but the panties were brand new, chosen specifically for her. My cock had been hard as hell as I’d put them in the box, picturing her perfect ass wearing nothing but them.

“Your Highness.”

I looked up from my breakfast. Max was standing by the door. I didn’t bother trying to correct him about my name, since I knew he wasn’t going to listen no matter how many times I commanded him to call me Trip.

“What’s up, Max?”

“You have a cabinet meeting at ten and a meeting with Lynette at eleven.”

“Cancel them.”

“Sir, they’re important meetings.”

“Clear my morning, Max. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

He sighed. “The girl, I assume.”

“That’s right. I have two weeks to make her my queen.”

“Is that wise, Your Majesty?”

“I don’t know. Since when did I worry about what’s wise and what isn’t?”

“Since you became king.”

“Fair point, but there’s something about her.”

“The people are impressed.”

“Yeah, well, Starkish people would love a woman who slaps their king, especially since he isn’t the king they really wanted.”

“They will come around. Give the people time.”

I shrugged, sipping my coffee. “Doesn’t matter. I’m what they fucking have, right?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Besides, Bryce might be good for Starkland. Get an outside perspective.”

“Is that what you need?”

“Possibly. I never know what I need until I have it.”

Max nodded. “Sir, might I speak freely?”

“This isn’t the military, Max. Say what you want.”

“I’m worried about this girl. She doesn’t seem very fond of you.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Maybe it would be better to marry a Starkish woman. One who actually cares about you?”

“You might be right, Max.”

“But I take it from your tone that you don’t agree.”

I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head and smiling. “Listen, Max, ever since I took the throne, this whole damn job has been one crisis after the next. It’s the rebels, it’s my successor, it’s the economy. This is the first thing I’ve been excited about.”

“You haven’t been king long, Your Highness. And nobody said ruling was easy or fun.”

“You’re very right, Max, which is why maybe finding my queen should be those things.”

He sighed. “Very well. I see your point.”

“Clear my morning.”

“As you wish.”

I stood up, grinning at him. “I have important business to attend to.”

He sighed, shook his head, and left my room.

I walked down the halls shadowed by my usual guard detail.

“Al,” I called out. He stepped up next to me.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“What do you think of our guest?”

“Which guest, sir?”

“The girl. Bryce.”

“She seems nice, sir.”

I laughed. “You wouldn’t say otherwise, though, would you?”

“I would be honest with my king.”

“Of course.” I laughed again. “And what do the people think of her?”

“I’ve heard mixed opinions.” He cleared his throat. “Men seem to respect her. Women seemed to be jealous of her.”

“Good. I can work with that.” I dismissed him with a wave as we approached her door.

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t help but imagine her answering the door wearing nothing but the boxing gloves and the panties. I knocked once, hoping she would, and hoping the guards had enough sense to stand back.

She opened after a second. I felt a little disappointed to note that she was wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt.

“Your Majesty,” she said, although it sounded sarcastic.

“Good morning, Bryce,” I said.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to give you that tour.”

She sighed. “Do I have much choice?”

“You always have a choice. You can sit here in your room all day, bored, or you can come spend the morning with the most interesting king in the world.”

She cracked a smile, but it was quickly gone. “Okay, fine. Let me get my shoes on.”

She walked back into her room and went over to her shoes.

“I’ll show you the throne room first,” I said.

“Throne room? You actually have a throne?”

“Of course. We don’t really use it anymore, though. Turns out a King sitting on a throne doesn’t really play that well anymore.”

She laughed slightly as she bent over to tie her shoes. As she did, her sweatshirt rode up her back slightly and her pants pulled down a hair, revealing the top of her panties.

They were black and lace.

The pair I had sent her last night.

My cock was instantly hard as my heart started to hammer in my chest. She was wearing the panties I’d sent her. I couldn’t help but picture her sliding them up her skin, slowly brushing them against her legs, only to end up against her already wet pussy.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, turning to look at me, and as our eyes met, I knew she knew.

She’d done it on purpose. The whole shoes thing was just her way of showing me she was wearing them.

A huge grin broke out across my face. “Sorry. I’m easily distracted by pretty things.”

She smiled back. “I bet it’s hard to be the king then.” She finished tying her shoes and then straightened up. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.” We headed out of the room together, and I felt like I was flying high.

Bryce was a fascinating creature. I couldn’t put those panties out of my head, even for a second. I knew she liked to pretend she hated me, and yet she still wore them. Maybe just to taunt me, but still.

I was willing to bet they were dripping wet and ruined already.