I wasn’t kidding yesterday when I mentioned how tedious the palace and palace life can be, particularly when you’re being watched like a hawk. I’m glad I came for Stefan’s christening — my God am I glad I came — but frankly? It’s boring.

Aurora’s made it slightly less boring, of course, but right now I’ve been drafted at the last minute to give two visiting dignitaries from Inner Mongolia a tour of the grounds and gardens, and it’s dreadful. I’m doing it for Grayson, and because I’m well aware that as the prince of a neighboring kingdom, there are certain duties that come along with a royal rank, but I’d rather be nearly anywhere else.

Like between Aurora’s thighs again, for instance. I’ve already replayed last night in my head about a million times, thought about what I’m going to do to her tonight, her naked body spread below me, willing, wet, and waiting.

I think I’ll start by having her kneel. I like it when she’s naked and I’m not, when I can let my eyes feast on her perfect body, her big eyes looking up at me as she slowly opens her mouth for my cock, my hand fastened in her hair.

Her warm, wet mouth stretched wide as she takes me in, eyes watering. What it would feel like as Aurora relaxes her throat and—

“What is this, please?” the interpreter asks, holding one hand out at an ancient-looking wooden gazebo, thorny roses crawling up the sides.

It’s a fucking gazebo, I think. Who cares?

“I believe that’s the commemorative gazebo built by Edward IV, two hundred years ago, when he successfully fought off the Montessian invaders at Trolong Pass,” I say.

I know that there is a commemorative gazebo around here somewhere. Is it this one? Who knows.

The interpreter passes this possibly-true information along to the visiting dignitaries. They all stand there for a moment, considering the gazebo, their faces serious.

The whole tour of the grounds and gardens have been exactly like this: long periods of silence while my mind wanders to the filthy things I’d much rather be doing to Aurora, they ask another question, repeat.

They say something to the interpreter. The interpreter thinks for a moment, because as I understand it, our languages are pretty different.

“They say it’s lovely and a fitting monument,” he tells me.

Great.

We continue on like that for what seems like days, until we’re finally within sight of the palace again, and I’m praying that they won’t ask for a tour of the art collections or some similar bullshit.

Then, as I’m saying something about the particular rose bushes they’re gawking at, I see a head of flaming hair on the other side, and my heart jumps in my chest.

My dick also jumps. She has that effect on me.

“And these are, uh, painted blood roses,” I say, no longer paying the visitors any mind at all, simply tossing words together. “They’re quite rare and difficult to grow.”

Again, probably true.

On the other side of the roses, Aurora’s head turns toward me. I can barely see her over the bushes, but I try to look around them, my heart thumping in my chest.

She’s alone. If I could ditch these visitors, we could go back to the gazebo, or even somewhere in the palace, and I could show her what I’ve been thinking about all day...

The interpreter clears his throat loudly, like he’s been trying to get my attention.

“Yes?” I ask.

“They would like to know whether these are grown from the seeds at the renowned seed depository in Oslo, or whether they’re an heirloom variety...”

The question goes on, but Aurora’s coming around the rose bushes, and in seconds, she appears on the path in front of me. She’s facing away, wearing a long-sleeved dress, stockings, and a coat, but the shape of her body underneath all that still makes the blood rush to my dick.

“The seed depository,” I say, simply echoing the first thing he said.

Aurora glances over her shoulder, her face beautiful and innocent and open, cheeks and lips red in the cold.

I know how to warm her up, I think, cock getting harder.

And best of all, she’s alone.

The interpreter turns back to the visitors, and starts saying something. Aurora meanders down the path, all my attention on her, looking over her shoulder at me one more time.

The message is clear as fucking day. She can’t wait until tonight, either, and it doesn’t matter that I’m about to ditch some important people.

“And that’s the tour of Naralta Palace,” I say, not even looking at the visitors. “The royal family is so glad you could make it, an honor to meet you, it’s been lovely.”

I duck down a narrow path, away from the guests as the interpreter sputters, voices rising in mild confusion. But’s pretty fucking hard to get lost here — head toward the giant building, you’ll get to the palace.

Silently, I pace along an empty path, watching Aurora through the bushes until I can sneak through, out of sight of everyone else, and I grab her arm.

“Oh!” she exclaims softly as I pull her in, instantly covering her mouth with mine. Even though it’s barely been twelve hours, I want her again, need to claim her.

“Declan,” she breathes when I pull back, her lips puffy from the force of our kiss.

“You were looking for me,” I growl, running a thumb along her chin. “Well, you found me, Princess, and I’ve got everything you want.”

I press my hand into her lower back, pushing her hips against my rock-hard cock, and Aurora bites her lip, alarmed. I don’t care that we’re pretty much in public, or that we could be discovered by anyone strolling through the grounds right now.

I want her. I need her, and I’ve got half a mind to push her to her knees and take her, right here. I bend my head to capture her lips again, but instead she speaks.

“It’s Grayson,” she says, one of the few things she could say to make me stop.

“What about him?” I ask.

“I’m afraid he knows,” she whispers. “This morning, after breakfast, he...”

Suddenly, I hear voices coming up the path: male, several of them, and they’re walking purposefully. Even if I don’t recognize them by voice, I’m not chancing Aurora being discovered here with me.

“Meet me in the gazebo,” I say, pointing. “Tell me there.”

Aurora nods, and we leave the bush onto different paths.