Prim had kept the potential engagement to herself for three days before deciding that when it came to secrets, Kallia and Bristol didn’t count. Each of them had a right to know, in their own way.
They took it about as well as could be expected. Bristol gasped, seemingly excited and hopeful. Kallia only gazed in the distance, her eyes unfocused, even when Prim squeezed her hand, promising her only good would come from this. Possibly a lie, but if an heir was the result, that was undoubtedly good. Even if Egan wasn’t.
The only reason Prim had managed to keep the secret that long was because she had Roan to distract her. She had indeed left her lessons with Helena early the day after her meeting with the queen, telling her mentor she was feeling ill. Roan had--shockingly--been patrolling that wing of the castle when she emerged and politely offered to walk her back to her chamber. Roan noticed the guard posted in her hall needed to sharpen his sword, and ordered him to the armory at once, saying it was an insult to the crown to wield such a dull weapon. Once the guard was gone, Prim had slipped into her chamber pulling Roan in after her.
Roan had pressed her against the wall right inside the door as he kissed her, his lips and tongue just as satisfying as she remembered. As they kissed, she guided his hand up her skirts, and let him please her with his fingers. After she moaned in satisfaction, they fell onto the chaise in her room. She didn’t even remove her dress as she rode him until she moaned again and he came shortly after, gripping the backs of her thighs so hard she was certain he left claw marks. Indeed, as Roan caught his breath, Prim still straddling him, he had brought a hand between them and flexed his fingers, retracting his claws.
“Sorry about that,” he breathed as he moved his hand to her face, sliding over her ear and hair to cradle her nape before pressing his face into the other side of her neck, alternating between powerful kisses and gentle scrapes of his canines. Prim hadn’t minded. Even as Roan was unable to leash his claws in that moment, he had protected her. They hadn’t actually pierced her skin.
Yes, Roan had been an efficient distraction.
Even more so because she couldn’t stop thinking about when she would get to touch him again. She couldn’t very well miss another lesson with Helena, nor could she abandon her duties and Bristol and Kallia. It would have to be at night.
She knew how to get around at night unnoticed; that wasn’t the problem. The issue was admitting that to Roan. As a royal guard, a kern no less, he would be horrified to learn that Prim could--and regularly did--roam the castle and beyond completely unaccompanied.
So she hadn’t objected when he stationed himself as the guard in her hall for the next night. But another night would have been suspicious. So the third day, that’s the day she hadn’t seen him. That’s the day she spilled the secret.
It wasn’t until the day after that that the trio of women really discussed the matter. And determined there were things that needed to be taken care of prior to the Lanhami royals’ arrival. One such task was something Prim had to complete. Alone. And it required venturing out of the royal complex and into the city proper. As she was going to be sneaking around anyway, she decided to pay Roan a visit first.
She found herself in the guards’ barracks and waited until the hall was clear before she approached his door and knocked once. She’d been here twice over the years due to their friendship. Once when he had been injured, and she insisted on checking on him herself. Once when his father died, and she had come to express her sympathies, staying with him for the majority of the day. Bristol had accompanied her the first time, and both of her dearest friends accompanied her the second time. This was her first visit alone. Her first visit at night.
The door opened swiftly, Roan standing alert and commanding. His gaze swept over her. It didn’t immediately soften, as it took him a moment to recognize her. Prim wasn’t wearing one of her usual dresses. She was wearing pants. Tight-fitting black trousers, a midnight blue tunic tucked into the top. She topped the ensemble with a black cape, the hood pulled up. But when he realized who stood at his door, his shoulders sagged in familiarity. Until he again realized who stood at his door. Unaccompanied and vulnerable. His eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” he hissed.
Prim smiled mischievously as she slipped past him into the bare room. Only a bed, a wardrobe, and a collection of weapons furnished the space. Roan quickly shut the door and turned on her, his face revealing every bit of shock, worry, and anger that Prim had anticipated.
“Calm down. Nobody saw me,” she said, reaching her arms around his neck. She attempted to kiss him, but he pulled his face away. She kissed his neck instead.
“Prim,” he said, his voice once again carrying that authoritative tone. He removed her arms from around him, clasping her hands between his as he looked her in her eyes.
Prim stilled. Perhaps she should have given him a warning that she might visit him at night. No, he would have only forbade her from doing so.
“Forget about people seeing you. What if someone tried to hurt you?”
She snatched her hands back. “Nobody saw me,” she said again. “Ergo, nobody could have tried to hurt me. Plus, there’s nobody here at night but guards. Are you saying I’m in danger from one of your own?” She was certainly not going to divulge this was only her first stop for the night--that she would be outside the complex walls in a few hours.
Roan sighed through his nose, shaking his head. “I have to escort you back.” He ran a hand through his ginger locks. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain it, though,” he added, more to himself.
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“You will do no such thing. I’m already here.” She placed her hands on him again, this time laying them on his chest. “I wanted to see you.”
Roan looked at her again at her admission, and the anger in his eyes receded.
“I wanted to feel you,” she said, softer.
He placed his hands upon her own, dipping his head.
“I wanted to taste you.” Her voice became barely a whisper. When she attempted to kiss him this time, he let her.
After a satisfyingly long exploration of one another’s mouths, they broke apart, panting. Prim dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth, one final means of convincing him that her sneaking out was a good thing. She sucked him to completion and by his shuddered breaths, she was certain he would not complain if she were to darken his doorstep again tomorrow night. Then he peeled off her pants and tunic and worshiped her breasts and sex with his mouth and hands until he was recovered enough to slide his length into her as she bent over the bed, gripping his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of ecstasy.
She hadn’t meant to cuddle with him. She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. One minute, Roan was behind her, having just finished inside her, and had gently pushed away her thick braid to reveal her bare back. He had slowly, lovingly, kissed her spine from nape to tailbone as he reached around to fondle her breasts. The next minute, he had climbed onto the bed, pulling her with him, tucking her into him. And she let him.
“I love my scent mixed with yours,” he said. At her questioning look, he elaborated. “You always smell of peaches and honeysuckle. But after we’ve been together, I can smell myself on you, too. And damn if it isn’t the most wonderful scent I’ve ever experienced.”
Prim swallowed. She had less than a month left to spend with Roan like this. Then the Lanhami royals would be here, and everyone would be more observant. She couldn’t risk getting caught sneaking around, no matter how certain she was that she never would be. No one could know about her dalliances, whether with Roan or anyone else. Just as no one could know about those of the other young women of the court. Everyone knew they happened, but for them to be public would be an affront to the king and queen. Especially in front of visiting royals. Especially when they were offering their son to be the future king.
Prim lifted her head from the crook of his shoulder, craning her neck to look at him, a sickening thought striking her. “Do you think anyone’s smelled you on me?”
Roan smiled softly, easing her back into his arms. “No, Prim. No one can smell like I can.” It must be one of his gifts, though he’d never mentioned it before. He took a deep breath through his nose, proof that he did indeed love their twined scents.
“I have to go,” Prim said, pushing herself up. They hadn’t yet redressed and she grazed her fingertips along Roan’s stomach as she stood up. She let his gaze caress her form before she pulled her pants and tunic back on.
“We’ll have to figure out how to get you back to your room,” Roan said, standing up and putting on his own pants.
Prim smiled, shaking her head. “No, we don’t. I know my way around, Roan.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but she stopped him with a kiss before continuing.
“I can get back without anyone ever knowing I’ve left. You are not quite as stealthy.” She kissed him once more, just because his lips looked too delicious not to. “I’ll come back tomorrow night.”
Roan didn’t object. He picked up her discarded cloak and wrapped it around her, tugging the hood up. His grip lingered on the folds of fabric around her face. “I wish there was a way that we could be more.”
Prim tilted a corner of her mouth. “More than a kern in the royal guard and the prin--?”
“More than this.” He cut off her words, gesturing between them, then at his bed.
Prim had known what he meant, had been trying to make light of the situation, but hearing the emotion in his voice and witnessing the longing in his eyes… Her smile dropped instantly. She should have known his feelings for her ran much deeper than friendship. She should never have reopened this door.
“We can’t.”
“Why?” His voice was pleading now.
Prim blinked. “Why?” she repeated, as if it was the most ridiculous word she’d ever heard. Perhaps it was. “I have a duty.”
“But--”
She stopped him again with a kiss. She let her tongue glide over his, let her lips linger, let her hands roam over his still-bare torso. She arched her back, whimpering, as his mouth flowed over her jaw, down her neck, and he pulled back the top of her blouse to find her breasts again. She savored it, knowing it would be the last time. Prim couldn’t do this again. Not after what he’d just admitted. When they pulled apart, she studied his marbled green feline eyes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she lied and slipped out the door before he could say anything else.
#
Prim walked down a cobblestone street crowded with revelers. Though nearly midnight, this part of the city considered the night still fairly young, the people still fairly sober. Firelight flickered from lamp posts, casting an orange glow over the pedestrians as well as patrons of pubs sitting at the al fresco tables. The street roared with the sounds of clinking glasses and merriment, though Prim also detected more than one growling voice as she made her way. That was to be expected. Some people drank to get loose. Some people drank to get angry.
Despite the row of pubs that lined this particular street, Prim wasn’t interested in their offerings. She was heading to a shop. A shop that made the most beautiful dresses in all of Wassalia, though she wasn’t going there to find a dress. She patted the pocket sewn into her cloak, making sure she hadn’t lost her package in the flurry of removing her clothes back in Roan’s room. The shop was at the end of this street, two blocks after the last pub.
She hadn’t yet made it to that last pub, so she still had to maneuver around people as she padded through the street. Just as she stepped in front of the corner building, nearly able to cross into the dark and quiet of the next block, a woman stumbled into her.
The woman was too drunk to correct herself, and continued falling, grasping at Prim as her knees buckled. Prim’s cloak tore away under the woman’s fingers and when it did, the woman collapsed on the ground entirely. A moment later, a man approached, wrapping his arms around the woman to haul her up, murmuring an apology to Prim before leading his companion away.
Shaking her head, Prim collected her cloak from the ground and wrapped it around herself again. She glanced at the patrons of Tabor’s, but nobody seemed to have noticed the drunk woman’s display or were so used to such displays as to not care. She patted her pocket again, still feeling the package, and continued into the empty street ahead.