***** "And the kiss last night?" he asked, stepping closer until she could feel the warmth of him so near. Katrina clutched the roses, heart pounding, feeling the butterflies rising in her. His eyes held her, intense and filled with an emotion she couldn't name. "I don't regret it," he murmured. "I meant every bit of it, and I'd love to—" Katrina didn't let him finish. She pulled him close and pressed her lips to his, unable to resist any longer. He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. His kiss was slow and deep, full of a passion that set her on fire. ****** King Karl of Xylonia, known as the masked king, is feared by all. Cursed at birth to die at 25, he hides half his face behind a mask, leaving everyone wondering what lies beneath. Ruthless and cold-hearted, he never expected to fall in love—until Katrina enters his life. Katrina, a slave-princess, is treated like a servant in her own home because she was born outside of marriage. When her father can't repay his debt to King Karl, he offers his eldest daughter in placed of his youngest daughter, claiming she has a magical touch that heals with a simple massage. Intrigued, the king agrees. But Katrina was never the chosen one, and the healing power is a lie. As the king starts to fall for her, Katrina is trapped in a web of deceit. How long can she keep her secret before the vengeful king uncovers the truth? And when he does, will their love survive—or will the mask of the king hide a fury that could destroy them both? Contain 18+ scenes detailed explicit content. Hot Romance, Dark secrets. #Not your regular Dark-Romance novel#
~Karl~
I couldn't get her out of my mind. Every time I closed my eyes, there she was—Katrina, with that smile that warmed something deep inside me.
I never thought a woman could affect me like this, but after just three hours, she had.
I wanted to send Rowland to bring her to me, but I knew it was better if she didn't find out who I really was. Katrina didn't seem fond of King Karl, and I needed her to like me, not the crown.
I picked up my pencils and started sketching her. Her face came to life on the paper, and I knew this would be the most beautiful piece I'd ever done.
Thirty minutes passed before a guard interrupted, announcing that Queen Fortuna needed to see me urgently. I sighed, knowing I couldn't refuse her. We had grown up together, married out of loyalty rather than love. She was someone I trusted, but affection had never been part of our bond.
"Your Highness," Fortuna said softly as she stood in the doorway, waiting for my permission.
"Come in, my queen. Come here," I said, gesturing her over.
Her gaze drifted to my sketch, and she smiled, though her eyes were red and swollen. "Who is that? Is it me?"
"It's just a sketch," I replied, setting my pencil down. "I haven't even finished, and you already assume it's you."
I stood up, noticing the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She never cried, at least not in front of me. Something had really shaken her. "What happened, Fortuna?" I asked, taking her hands and guiding her to sit on the bed.
"I was humiliated today," she admitted, her voice trembling as she fought to keep her composure. She knew how much I despised weakness.
"Go on. Who dared to humiliate you?"
"The new concubine."
I blinked, trying not to laugh. Of all the things I expected her to say, this wasn't one of them. A concubine—who'd only been here for hours—had reduced my queen to tears. I had assumed it was a council member or someone from my family.
"Are you serious right now?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
"Yes," she said quietly.
"You can handle something like that. Why are you coming to me in tears?" I let go of her hands and returned to my chair, watching her closely.
"She's your concubine. Don't forget, I can't punish her. Only you or your mother have that authority," she explained, wiping her tears. I hated seeing her like this, but I also had more pressing concerns—like finishing Katrina's portrait.
"So, what happened?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.
Taking a deep breath, Fortuna began, "One of my maids stole from me. I found out this morning and punished her, but your new concubine interrupted, called me all sorts of names, and made me look like a villain in front of the others."
I raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't matter if she makes you look bad. Since when do you care what people think of you?"
"She insulted me, and soon the others will follow. They won't respect their queen anymore."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Can you let it go for now? I'll figure out what to do with her later."
There were bigger issues on my mind than a petty fight between women. Plus, I had to finish Katrina's artwork. Tomorrow evening, I planned to give it to her, and nothing—not even this—was going to stop me.
"Is that all you can say?" Queen Fortuna's voice was tight with frustration. She crossed her arms, frowning at me. "It seems like you like her. Otherwise, you would have done something by now."
I chuckled at her jealousy. Fortuna was one of the closest people in my life, and it was clear she didn't want anyone replacing her. "How can I like someone I've never even met?"
"You were on your way to her room last night," she shot back, her eyes narrowing. "If I hadn't stopped you, you would've gone in." She shrugged, watching me closely. "I don't care if you spend time with them, but remember, I am your wife and companion. They're just entertainment."
I remembered last night perfectly. I had been curious about the new concubine and was on my way to her room when Fortuna stopped me at the stairs. She insisted we play chess, and I gave in. That's why I never met the new woman.
"You're something else, Fortuna," I muttered, shaking my head as I picked up a book.
"Do you know what the concubine said about you?" she asked, sitting down across from me. I shrugged, and she continued, "She said in front of everyone that your judicial system is complete rubbish and only benefits you. People were nodding along with her."
That caught my attention. A concubine, of all people, had the nerve to say such things publicly. It was bold, reckless, and disrespectful.
"Are you sure she said that?"
"Yes, I have witnesses," Fortuna replied, her tone firm. She wouldn't lie about something like this.
I already disliked the concubine's father, and now the daughter was proving she was just like him.
Even so, I didn't want anything ruining my mood tonight. I might see Katrina at the ceremony, and the last thing I wanted was to let anger get the best of me.
I didn't want to risk hurting her, not when my thoughts had been consumed by her all day.
"We'll deal with her tomorrow," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "I've got more important things to focus on tonight. But I promise, she won't go unpunished. In fact, I've already thought about marrying her off to my cousin, Elvin."
"Really?" Fortuna's face lit up, her excitement almost palpable. "I'm relieved."
"You should focus on the new structure," I reminded her. She was overseeing the construction of a large complex for women and children in the heart of the town. It was a good cause, and I wanted it to succeed.
"I will," she said, bowing slightly to leave, but I stopped her.
"Do you know anyone named Katrina? A daughter of a chief or any noble?" I asked, hoping she might have heard of her.
"No, I haven't heard that name around here. Want me to find out?" she offered.
"No, I'll handle it," I replied, standing and moving back to my sketch. I needed to finish it.
"Who is she?" Fortuna asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
"Someone I met today at the farm," I admitted. "I like her." I knew it would make her jealous, but she'd get over it. Fortuna had always been by my side, and no one could truly replace her. "But don't worry, I'll figure it out myself."
"You shouldn't dwell on it too much," she said, coming over and resting her hands on my shoulders. "You're the king. You can have any woman you want. Don't let this one get to you."
"I'm not worried," I assured her with a smile. But I knew I would find Katrina. I had to.
"By the way, finish my sketch on time. I want to see it," she said, kissing my cheek before walking away.
Did I tell her it was her sketch? I didn't think so.
As evening approached, I finished the sketch. I bathed and got ready for the ceremony, my thoughts consumed by two women. One whose smile made my heart race, and another whose words cut deep.
Two very different women, yet they had one thing in common—they both hated me, King Karl.