Chapter 17: Dancing is for unmarried women.

Apparently, in my family, it is custom for a woman to be dressed in the colors of her husband's house when pregnant. As much as I disliked it, I had to abide by the rules. At least when I do public appearances. So, tonight, Hera dressed me in a blue dress. It was made with lace and satin in the lightest shade of blue. Hera made sure to put as natural makeup as possible, making me look young instead of an expecting mother. My hair was halfly tied away from my face, leaving only a bit of hair to frame my face.

"You look beautiful, Angelique," she says, helping me put on my shoes. Placing the tiara on my head, she says, "Now, they won't even dare to think that you look sick."

I looked in the mirror and she was right. I didn't look like I'm about to throw up. In fact, I look as beautiful as the day I came of age.

Damien entered the room looking stunned. His mouth was still open from staring. I suppose he never thought that I would break and give in to wearing his colors.

"You look..." he struggles to say, "Beautiful. I suppose the dress helps make you look human."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You cannot say a compliment without an insult," I say, fixing his shirt. "I suppose both of us look human tonight."

He held my hand against his chest, saying, "I look absolutely gorgeous and all the ladies—even married ones—will fawn over me." Even now, he is absolutely full of himself.

I accepted his arm as he escorted me to the ballroom. "Do you think we'll be bombarded with "congratulations" from every single person there is in that room?" I asked exasperatedly. I didn't like the attention they gave me. The kindness they showed was all because of the relief they felt knowing that my marriage was not a failure.

"I know we will," he replied, tightening his hold on me. "Will you be dancing tonight?" he asked.

"No," I replied, "Dancing is for unmarried women."

"That's not true," he says, "In fact, I know a lot of women who dance even with friends. Besides, this is your party. You should at least enjoy it."

"I would very much enjoy a glass of wine," I said, smiling like a child.

"No," he said, "If you do that, you'll be harming the child. Have tea and juices; they're good for you."

"And since when have you been the expert?" I asked.

He chuckled, replying, "When the doctors told us you were expecting. Can you believe it? I have read so many books just to ensure that I know what you can and can't drink." He led me into the room, and everyone's eyes immediately darted on us.

"Princess Angelique and Prince Damien," the pager announced as we both entered.

Damien held me close as we walked down the flight of stairs, making sure I didn't trip. As we walked down, everyone was saying "congratulations" as I expected. The first person who met us was none other than King Jericho. He looked quite happy with his wife, Isabelle.

"Greetings, Princess Angelique and Prince Damien," he said happily. "This truly is a grand celebration, huh? Finally, the child that was promised will come."

The way he so put it made me want to barf. The child that was promised sounds a bit too... prophetic. I don't know. It sounds so weird.

Damien smiled, saying, "A pleasant evening to you and Queen Isabelle. I must ask, when do you intend to have a child of your own?" That was a jab at the queen. Everyone knows that they've been trying. Jericho sooner fathered a bastard with his whore, Jennifer, than a legitimate heir with his wife, Isabelle.

Isabelle smiled. I could see that sadness in her eyes. "Soon, Prince Damien," she replied, "Jericho and I have been praying for a son. I am glad that God has gifted you with the child growing in Princess Angelique's belly. God forbid anything horrible to happen to it." I feel bad for Isabelle. She knows that if she fails to deliver a son, the chances of Jericho divorcing her are high. Besides, he only married her because she was rich.

I held her hands, making her flinch. "In due time, I pray that you will conceive," I said, trying to comfort her. I didn't know why I tried to comfort her. I suppose my kindness is also the effect of the child I'm carrying. I happen to have disliked Isabelle. It's strange how at ease I felt knowing that I lifted her spirits for quite a bit.

"I suppose pregnancy truly changes a person, eh Angelique," she says, sharing a genuine smile. "May God bless you with a healthy son," I remember when news of her childbirth spread. Everyone rejoiced. Unfortunately, the child she gave birth to was stillborn. It was a girl, too. This greatly angered Jericho. He called his own wife useless and wretched.

"We shall go," Damien says, pulling me away. We walked around the ballroom meeting countless people. There were counts, dukes, and even foreign princes that came to support our peace. I suppose this baby is essential to making our reign secure and supported.

"Prince Jonah," Damien greeted, meeting his gaze.

Jonah bowed lightly, staring at my belly. I wished to know what he thought, but I restrained myself from asking. He looked dull, but still, he kept a smile plastered on his face.

"Congratulations," he says, holding my hands. "You have finally conceived. I am genuinely happy for you."

I smiled back, holding my tummy. "Thank you, Prince Jonah," I said, "I hope you find your true happiness soon."

"Tomorrow, Damien Cross must accompany me in the front lines," he says, glancing at my husband. "I shall expect you at the gates at seven in the morning sharp. I do not care that you're the fiercest warrior. Given that you're coming in late, I am superior to you."

Damien nodded, avoiding conflict. Perhaps he didn't want to spoil the night by fighting with Jonah. There's plenty of time for that when they leave.

He looked at me, leading me to the dance floor. "Shall we dance?" he asked, bowing lightly.

"I thought I told you that dancing is for unmarried women," I said, still accepting his hand.

He shook his head, leading. "Dancing is for beautiful women," he says, "And you, Angelique, are beautiful. Do not fight me tonight. Let's just enjoy what little time we have left."

I nodded, accepting defeat. We danced gracefully on the dance floor along with the other couples. We waltzed, twisted, and turned. By the end of the song, my feet had already grown tired.

"I think my feet cannot dance further," I whispered in his ear.

He nodded, escorting me to the table where my family was seated along with his. "The party is quite grand," he says, helping me to my seat. "We thank you for the celebration."

"Of course," said my mother, "Anything for our grandson." She turned to me, passing me a plate filled with pastries. "The chefs have made these for you. They are incredibly sweet and made for your cravings. I heard you fancied the honey biscuits."

"Thank you," I say, trying the macaroon. It tasted sweet alright and much to my pleasure. "Everyone has been acting kinder than usual. I feel like a sacrificial lamb."

"Well, it's your destiny to be the sacrificial lamb," Queen Grea says, "You're the future White Queen and the Consort of Cross. You must get used to it, dear. You're born into this chess game as a pawn. But soon, you will raise your status and become Queen."

"The job of the Queen is to protect the King," I say, "But that's my role in your game, Queen Grea. In my game, I ascend as King, and Damien is the one to protect me." I held his hand, finding strength in him. "But we're no longer in two separate games, you see. We both have a duty to each other. Given that we're both inheriting thrones, we both have equal power and responsibilities. We protect each other."

"Couldn't have said it better," said Damien's father. "I cannot express how happy I am with the news you bring. Your child is the key to uniting all the kingdoms."

"Of course," I say, "Another pawn brought into this chess board."

"He is our grandchild," the his father says, "He is more than a pawn." Somehow, his words brought warmth into the conversation. At least he thinks that the child I bear is more than just a pawn.

I smiled, nodding.

"So," Grea says, "How do you feel about Damien leaving tomorrow? I suppose he's ready to go to war since he's been idle for quite some time now."

"I am, actually," he replies, "But I would stay with Angelique if I could. My duty requires me to protect her, and that I will. I intend to return before she gives birth. I wish to be by her side when the child comes."

"No man in history has ever said that before," Grea says, "You must be in love."

I looked at Damien who now had a frigid expression about his face. "This is a political arrangement," he says in a blank tone. "Love is the last thing we expect. You didn't marry my father for love. You married him for power."

"Love is a luxury people like us don't have," I said, intervening, "That's what my husband means to say. Everybody knows that, so I question why you would even suggest that he's in love." To my displeasure, the night was longer than I anticipated. We had to stay until it was at least half past ten. The conversations were awful and often full of jabs between my family and Damien's. I suppose the treaty changed nothing. Both families' hate runs deep within their blood. Damien and I often found ourselves in a hot seat at that awful table.

As we returned to our chambers, everything was already laid out for us. I was so tired, but I didn't want to bother Hera. She's still at the party enjoying herself as she should.

I removed my shoes and took off the layers of accessories they adorned me with. I was surprised to feel Damien's arms, hugging me from behind. His breath was hot against my skin, making a gasp escape my lips. "Are you too tired?" he asked, burrowing his face in my neck.

I closed my eyes, saying, "A bit." I already knew where this was leading.

"Can I have you tonight?" he asked, almost like a plea. He slowly unbuttoned my dress, still keeping me in his arms. "I just want to feel you."

I removed the dress completely, turning to face him. His eyes were filled with sadness and dare I say longing. Something in his eyes told me that he needed me tonight as much as I needed him. So I helped him off his shirt and remove his pants. He smiled, pulling me close. My chest was against his chest, our bodies creating heat. I looked up, closing the gap between our lips. The kiss felt the same as we had earlier today—full of warmth and a hint of longing. Still locked in his kiss, he lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around him. He pulled away slowly, staring deep into my dark eyes.

"Something wrong?" I asked, holding him tighter.

"I'm leaving you tomorrow," he said, closing his eyes.

I sighed, planting kisses on his neck. "Damien," I said, "I just want to be. I don't want to talk right now. Is that okay?" He nodded in response, smiling. I suppose he wanted to feel me as much as I wanted to. He kissed me again, slowly placing me on our bed. He spread apart my legs, positioning himself at my entrance. He pulled away from our kiss, thrusting his hips. He stared into my eyes as he continued to thrust slowly, enjoying the moment. He watched as my mouth formed into an "O," coming in harder.

I pushed him gently, shifting our positions. I placed my hands on him, grinding him. He moaned in pleasure, placing his hands on my ass. He held onto me, sliding me faster and faster. I jumped up and down him, making sure I gave him every pleasure I could. He sat up, bringing his chest closer to mine. I continued to ride him, sliding hard and fast against his cock. The sound of our activities became more audible as I continued to jump harder and rougher. He moaned loudly—music to my ears. I gasped as he inserted a finger in my ass as I rode him hard.

"Fuck," he grunts, as I continued. He pulled my face closer to his, kissing me hungrily. His touch was like fire, burning me. All I could think of right now was this feeling inside me. It's more than just meaningless sex. The way he touched me was different from before.

He shifted our positions, climbing back on top. He burrowed his face into my neck as he continued thrusting. I must be hearing things. I almost thought I heard him muffling the words, "I love you." Stupid thoughts. Love is something he and I can't share.

I wrapped my legs around his waist as we neared our climax, coming harder and rougher with every thrust.

"Angelique," he calls me name as we reach our peak. He rested gently on top of me, keeping me in his embrace.

I closed my eyes, feeling his heartbeat against my own.

He gently slid off me, kissing me ever so sweetly. He held me close, refusing to let me go. "That was different," he says, caressing my belly. "Did I tire you too much?"

"No," I replied with a yawn, "I needed it as much as you did. Will you promise me something, Damien?"

"Hm?" he asked.

"Come back alive," I said, "I do not wish for our child to grow up without a father."

"I will," he promised, holding my hand. "This whole thing we have... We're doing it all for the baby, right? Nothing more?"

"Nothing more," I replied, "Is there something else you wish to tell me?"

"No," he said, "I promise I'll come back to you and the child. We'll have a family worthy of it. He will not live the way we have; I promise you that."

"I swear that I will do what I can to help you fulfill that promise," I said before drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow, when I wake, I'm sure he will be long gone.