Kneel

Without uttering another word, Christian acknowledged my command and departed toward the depths of the dungeon to fulfill his duty. 

I stopped by the corner of the dining table, set with steaming dishes, and picked up a plate to take it to my working desk. 

Eating bored me.

I had to entertain myself at least by reading letters flowing to my doorstep each day. I had to personally reply to some of them, but I could afford to set some of them aside so Marco would take care of it himself. As my hunger slowly disappeared, all that was left was weariness and satisfaction. 

"Please, Your Majesty. Wait, allow me to treat your injury first. It's more convenient if you find a seat," Valleria urged me, halting my progress towards the bedroom. 

I obliged, trying to look calm while removing my pants all the way to the ankles and perching on the edge of the bed as she held a set of fresh bandages in her hands. She knelt in front of me and gently touched the edges of the wound with her fingertips.

 I watched her with short breaths, trying to silence all the images that floated in my mind. Valleria, with her hair disheveled and her mouth full, her lips stained…

Just a single touch, a simple request to ask. 

'Help me. Touch me, Valleria,' I never wanted to embrace someone so much. I wanted to squeeze her so hard that her soul would merge with mine in a horrifying dance of lust and pain.

I had to clench my fingers into the sheets in order not to reach out to her, well aware of how messy it could get. Not sure if I could stop my body in a state like this, I forced myself to tear my eyes off her.

Determinedly straightening my posture, I averted my gaze towards the window, where late evening darkness had set. I tried to think about anything but her. 

The sounds of cattle being rounded up by hunters, the vigilant guards swapping their posts, and the merchants hastily packing away their wares from the bustling market counter filled my thoughts as a distraction from her soft lips.

"Does it hurt?" She asked suddenly, warily pulling her hands away.

"What?" I glanced back at her. The wound was already covered with ointment and two loops of bandages. She was fast and gentle. My exact opposite.

She pointed to my thigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You looked like you were in pain," She explained.

"I was just thinking about some other stuff," I shook my head and forced myself to look away again. I can't get caught in that state. Books, chess, horses – anything to divert my mind from her presence.

She tucked the final loop behind the edges and moved away from me.

"You should get some rest, Your Majesty," She said softly and walked away towards the room with a bath. Did she notice? I looked down at my underwear covered by my loose shirt. No, she couldn't see it, that was a relief.

I stretched out on the bed and lay motionless, my breaths shallow and controlled, as I waited for her return. She didn't come back until late midnight, the silence in the room was broken only by the faint rustle of her robe as she moved around the main room. My heart pounded in my chest, and I tried to steady my breathing so as not to startle her, but then I saw her make a determined dash toward my bed. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for what was to come. 

All I could hear was the soft sway of the bed and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. She stirred a little, and after a short while her breathing became steadier. I was tense as hell. Was that it? Was she just going to lie down next to me?