Chapter 8: Sleeping on the same bed will make it easy for you both to perform your duties.

Damien woke me up at Dawn rather abruptly. He said that the sooner we finish breakfast, the sooner we could leave, and the sooner we could get to where we were headed. We've been in the carriage for three hours with nothing to see in sight. To my pleasure, we both kept silent, immersing ourselves in our books. He seems to be very interested in his reading material as I am with mine.

"What?" he asked, breaking the silence. He looked up, meeting my gaze. "You've been staring at me for three minutes straight. Is there something you wish to say, or have you fallen for me already? Just say the word and I'd be happy to give you what you want."

I rolled my eyes at him. I hadn't realized that I was staring. I suppose I can't blame him for thinking the worst. "And what is it I want?" I scoffed, burying my face back into my book. Before I knew it, he was already next to me and have snatched my book away.

"Me," he said, playing the innocent. He looked at my book, opening the first page. "Everything you need to know after your wedding night," he read, laughing. "Where the bloody hell did you get this?"

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment. "It's a book passed down from generation to generation," I explained, "It's from three hundred years ago. As you can see, it is very thick. Every firstborn daughter had placed an entry in it. This book has about enough pages for at least twenty more entries."

"What entry?" he asked, flipping through pages.

"After one has read the book, they are required to write something down," I explained, "Either something you learned or advice you could give to the next lady you bestow it upon. I've no idea what to write in it. I haven't read past the first chapter." I pulled out another book, "I was reading this one earlier. It's about the things you must know as a wife."

"I don't care about that book," he said, showing me a page from the previous one. "A chapter dedicated to making love? What is this book about? Hell, it's not just one chapter. There's a dozen of them dedicated to it." He looked absolutely amused and at the same time in disbelief.

I took it back, holding it against my chest. This is absolutely embarrassing. My mother told me specifically never to let my husband know I have a book like this. This is beyond embarrassing.

"Can we just drop it?" I asked, looking out of the carriage.

"Why do you have to read it anyway?" he questioned, still in laughter. He snatched it once more, flipping to an entry from one of the first women who had the book. "After the first night, I've never felt so alive. The act is addicting like a forbidden drug," he read, making me blush yet again. He was laughing hysterically now, making a mockery out of me. "This is what Princess Milecent White wrote in her entry. It isn't wrong. The first time is addicting. It makes me wonder how you can keep your hands to yourself up to now."

"Perhaps loathing you is more powerful than my desires," I snapped, taking the book back.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You just admitted that you do desire me," he says slyly, "I am flattered, your highness."

"How much longer til we get there?" I asked, changing the topic.

He looked out the window, feeling the cold wind brush through his perfectly structured face. "We'll be there in half an hour," he said, sniffing the fresh air. He looked back at me still with a playful smirk spread about his face. "So, why were you staring at me earlier? Were you picturing me as you read?"

"No," I shook my head. "I just recalled our conversation last night."

"About?" he asked, "Sex in the carriage?" He flashed me a grin, well-aware that the topic makes me feel uncomfortable.

"Not that," I covered my face with both my palms. "Our first meeting. Aren't you a bit curious about what changed both of us? I am curious to know about what turned you into this incredible ass."

He burrowed his face back into his book seeming much disinterested. "None of your business, Princess," he said.

"Fine," I gave up, "What are you reading then?" It was my turn to snatch the book from his grasp. Opening it, I read, "The Battle between King Alexander Cross and the forgotten Queen Dianne White." I scratched my head. "I didn't know there was a Queen who fought a Cross."

"Because she's forgotten," he explained, "This is a book written two hundred fifty years ago. To be honest, you seem to resemble the Queen. I haven't read past the battle yet." He closed the book, leaning back. "My friend told me that the story between them was a scandal."

"Why do you read it?" I asked.

"To learn more about both our families' history," he explained, "No matter how much we dislike the fact that we're now man and wife, we have to learn each other's customs and cultures in respect of the treaty that was signed. The success of our marriage determines the peace in all nations after all."

I nodded in agreement. I suppose he's right. It is important to know about each other's customs and culture.

"Do you think we can do this without being at each other's throats the majority of the time?" I asked curiously.

"Nope," he replied, "You and I are polar opposites. We will never get along."

"We can both agree on that," I say, handing him his book back.

Half an hour passed quicker than I thought and before we knew it, we'd already arrived. He helped me out of the carriage as he should. We were greeted by the staff at the entrance of the estate. The place was grander than I expected. There were lush gardens all around the main house. Inside the castle was decorated with paintings and flowers. There were countless relics and decorations, too. What truly caught my eye was a portrait of what seemed to be a White Queen and a Cross King.

"Is that what you were reading about?" I asked, stunned at the portrait. "Queen Dianne and King Alexander were lovers?"

He stood next to me, staring at the portrait. It was the King and Queen looking lovingly at each other with their dog. They looked happy. The background, however, was a battlefield filled with hatred.

"I suppose that is them," he says, "You look a bit like her."

"And you him," I pointed. "You have the same brown hair and eyes."

He turned to meet the chief of staff, Maidservant Rose. She's a beautiful woman who was at least in her mid-forties.

"It's good to see you, my prince," she says, giving him an embrace. She must be the woman who raised him.

"And you, Maidservant Rose," he greeted happily. He pulled me close, introducing me to her. "This is Princess Angelique White."

The old woman smiled, giving me too an embrace. "It is a great pleasure to see you finally!" she exclaimed, "We have met before, my child. You were only seven at the time so you probably can't remember me." She then looked back at Damien with teary eyes. "I wish I could've been at your wedding, but I was unwell. My greatest apologies, my prince."

"I understand, Maidservant rose," he says, "I'm just glad that you've recovered from your fever. Should you even be out of bed?"

"Do not worry about me, child," she assures him, "Now, I have prepared your rooms. I suppose it's spacious enough for both of you."

"What?" we both asked.

"Your parents strictly instructed to keep you both together until the Princess is with child," she explained, "Sleeping on the same bed will make it easy for you both to perform your duties. I suppose they wish to have a grandchild as soon as they can."

"No," he says, "They just want an heir to ensure that the treaty will last. If we fail to deliver, they fear that war will yet again break out." He turned to me, taking my hand. "Let's go."

"What?" I asked, being dragged away. He didn't say anything. He just continued to drag me all the way up a flight of stairs and into a room. I suppose this was to be our bedroom. I looked at him who seems to be frustrated.

"Let's do it," he said, pushing me down on the bed. He climbed over me, pulling the ribbon of my dress.

I stopped him, holding his wrist. "I don't want to," I lied. I wanted to. Of course, I wanted to. But I cannot admit defeat. I can't forget everything he's done and his family's done to mine. I can't let my desires take over my body and self-respect.

He lifted my chin, making me meet his gaze. "Lies," he said, tracing his finger against my cheek. His touch burned like fire and his gaze was hypnotic. I couldn't keep my eyes off him, and he couldn't keep his off mine. He leaned close to my ear, his breath feeling like ecstasy. "You want me and you know it."

"Fuck you," I say, pushing him off me. I hate that he could see right through me. We haven't even known each other for a long time.

He chuckled, placing his hand on my thigh. "I know you want me," he said, "If you must know, I want you as well."

That was enough for me to give in, crashing my lips into his. I climbed over him, my hands exploring his body. I could feel him beneath me growing larger. He wasn't lying. He did want me. I suppose the pull is equally strong. I found myself moving naturally to the rhythm of our beating hearts. I pulled away, out of breath. Our eyes remained locked, breathing heavily.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up. I was still on top, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"You do not wish to have me," I said, "Yes, there is attraction, but that's not the reason why you advanced. You were frustrated with your parents trying to control our lives."

"Even so," he says, "We're just performing our duty to each other. So let us just do it." He pulled me in, planting kisses on my neck.

"It is not a chore to be done," I say, repeating his own words to him. He pulled away, looking me in the eye. He looked amused now.

"I assure you that I won't treat you as a chore," he said, undoing my corset. I wasn't surprised that he was able to do it without trouble. "I want you because I want you." God, he has a way with words! I want him and he knows it; that kills me. But I guess he hates wanting me as much as I do.

His hand continued to try to undress me while the other slid under my skirt. His hand reached my entrance, a moan escaped my lips. He smirked, seeing the lust in my eyes. I melted at his touch much to his satisfaction.

"I," I tried to say something, but no word came out. Only gasps and moans escaped my lips much to his pleasure.

"Sh," he says, fully undressing me. He threw my dress on the floor, switching our positions with just one move. He was like lightning—fast. He pulled my leg, forcing me down. He took off his shirt, spreading apart my legs. "Just let it consume you."

"Wait," I said, stopping him.

He met my gaze, furrowing his brows. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Before I could respond, the door swung open, catching both our attention. It was Maidservant Rose standing at the door looking shocked and red with her mouth agape.

I was frozen to my spot, staying perfectly still. Damien covered both of us with a blanket also red in embarrassment.

"I," Maidservant Rose says, "I wanted to inform you that tea and snacks are waiting for you at the dining hall." She then looked away, saying, "I apologize for interrupting. I will ask them to put it away."

"No!" I said rather loudly. "Please," I said, calmer, "We shall be there."

She bowed, closing the door as she fled. The poor woman must be mortified.

I looked at Damien who was still over me. His hand was covering his face, still embarrassed. "Shit," he cussed, still in disbelief. He glanced down at me, also red.

"Don't be angry with me," I said, getting up. I picked up my dress and slipped it on. He came to my back, helping me fasten the corset. "This is entirely your fault; you know that, right?"

He cracked a smile, nodding. "In all my years of... well, being a rake, this is the first time Maidservant Rose has caught me in the act," he admits, still red from embarrassment. "God, she has the worst timing ever."

I laughed along with him. "At least they know that we're performing our duty," I say, accepting his arm. "I mean, if she were to report to our parents, they'd be relieved with her news. They'd be pleased that you and I aren't trying to kill each other."

He nodded in agreement. "Shall we?" he asked.

"Let's go," I agreed. For certain, this was a horrendous second impression of Maidservant Rose. How I wish she wouldn't think awful of me because of this incident. I suppose we shall see.