chloe

Your wedding to Leon was rapidly approaching – less than twelve hours now before you would pledge your fealty and loyalty to one another before the kingdom. And that knowledge made you restless. It had been hours of tossing and turning in bed. Endless remedies to bring sleep – several cups of tea drank in the parlor with your ladies, a warm bath, oils at your temples, reading, counting sheep behind your eyelids. Each attempt failed. You were too excited. 

Of course, the past few days had been slightly easier since Leon’s reassurance of his feelings for you. But there were still worries that weighed on your heart. Worries that he may change his mind, that you would not make a good wife, that you would somehow in some area of his life leave him wanting. This was perhaps your worst fear. The one that plagued your days and haunted your nights. 

No amount of comfort and reassurance from your ladies could quell your worries. Bless them, they tried. Really, they did. But you were worried beyond the point of comfort. You were beyond being calmed by the reassurances of your confidants, their kind words and gentle reassurances falling on deaf ears. You were inconsolable. 

A ragged sigh fell from your lips as you tossed in bed, lying on your side, cheek pressed into the pillow. You were exhausted, frustrated. Beyond irritated that your mind and body denied you sleep. The irritation won over as you sat up, running your hands over your face. There were a few quiet moments of contemplation – things you could do to wear yourself out. Of course, a few ideas popped into your mind but tonight was not the night for such things. A strike of thunder and flash of lightning drew your eyes to the window in your room. 

You threw the covers off your body with a decision in mind, standing and snatching the furlined robe hanging by your bed. After tugging it on and wrapping it around your body, you padded to the french doors that led to the stone balcony in your chambers. The sound and smell of rain had always been soothing to you. Ever since your childhood. There was a ledge over the balcony, just enough cover so you could step out onto the stone without getting wet. 

A calmness washed over your body as you stepped out, the smell of the rain filling your senses, the cool wind thrashing the long train of your robe, the flashes of light and crackles of thunder. It all made you pause, it seemed to stop the worries that plagued you in their tracks. Seeing the mountains in the distance and hearing the roars of thunder reminded you of how small you really were in this life. That the world was wide and you were only one person. 

Yes, you were to be married to the Crown Prince. Expected to bear his heirs and stand by his side. You had big and daunting responsibilities. But what were these responsibilities in comparison to the whole world? Hardly anything. And for some reason, standing in the rain with the wind blowing and the night encapsulating you, it made you feel just a little more at peace. 

The curtains to your room were ripped open in the early hours of the morning. The sun had just begun to crest over the mountains in the distance, the hazy morning light filtering into your chambers. The air was still thick and heavy with fog, and the promise of rain in the later hours of the day. You groaned and buried yourself deeper into the covers and pillows of your bed. It had been mere hours since you had managed to lull yourself asleep – you had left the french doors open, the sound of the rain your lullaby and only aid in drifting into a deep sleep. 

You did not tell your ladies what you had dreamt when they surrounded you and asked how you slept. You lied, promising you slept well once your head hit the pillow. That there had been no disturbances or bad dreams. You felt slightly bad for lying, but this was not the time to delve into your fears. There was much to be done. 

The wedding ceremony was to be held in the afternoon, just before dusk. The celebration would directly follow, expected to last late into the night. Even after you and Leon would retire to bed. Which was a thought you shook from your mind. There was to be a feast, hours of dancing, gifts bestowed to the both of you and the kingdom itself. Socialization with the other nobles and distant members of both your families. Leon’s relatives were travelling a great distance to attend, and your family would be returning solely for the night, only to depart the next morning. 

Claire, Ashley, and Rebecca pulled you out of bed and ushered you into the parlor. There was already a spread of breakfast awaiting you – pastries, breads, different mediums of eggs, fruits, and cured meats, along with teas and coffees. The three ladies sat you down, encouraging you to eat, swearing it would calm your nerves. Which you weren’t sure you quite believed, but you humored them anyway. 

Typically, you were readied and joined Leon for breakfast in the dining hall. Claire, however, informed you that it would be improper for Leon to see you at any point in the day before the ceremony. An old wives tale of misfortune and infidelity linked to such a meeting. So, you would not be seeing your betrothed until you met him at the end of the aisle. 

“I think it’s romantic,” Ashley nodded, sipping her tea. “It’s special. 

You nodded along as if you agreed. But some larger part of you yearned to see Leon. To be comforted and reassured by him. To hear his promise of affection again. Just one last time before it all became real and official and no longer yours. But this was not an option. 

“You do not need to worry, you know.” Claire’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Yes, I know.” You nodded, looking at her. She had a set on her face. It was almost unreadable, like you could not really tell what she was thinking. 

“It is a silly custom. But not one you need to worry over.” Claire said rather matter-of-factly over her cup of coffee. 

Rebecca nodded along as if she agreed as she spread a glob of jam over her bread. There was a glint in Ashley’s eyes that told she most certainly did not agree, but she did not voice this opinion. These three ladies were a solace to you at this time. Your guiding light, the calm in your storm. The perfect distraction. 

“How are things with Lady Valentine?” You asked, picking at a pastry on your china plate, desperate for any form of distraction. Any way out of the attention that was locked on you at the moment. 

Claire lit up like a candle. There was nothing as distracting and disarming as hearing Claire's escapades with her knight. Once she began to talk, it was difficult to make her stop. She went on and on about the night before, how Jill was an expert with her hands and mouth. How Claire loved to please the knight as well. How their love and pleasure for each other was entirely and solely mutual. Her words made you pause, your eyes locking on her. 

“Claire?” The lady looked at you, stopping instantly. “Could I ask you something?” 

“Of course, princess.” She nodded, setting her cup down and turning more to face you.

“I am aware you are more versed in how to pleasure a woman, but” you hesitated. This was completely inappropriate. But, in twelve hours or less, you would be expected to consummate your marriage to Leon. “I do not know how to please Leon.” 

All three of your ladies froze. The shock of your statement evident on their faces. Ashley choked on her tea, Rebecca blinked blankly, the scone she was eating slipping from her fingers and landing on her skirts. Claire let out a sigh, eyes flicking to the other ladies. She cleared her throat before nodding to them. 

“Why don’t you check on the princess’s dress?” She suggested – although you could tell by the tone of her voice that this was not a suggestion. Ashley and Rebecca knew it as well. 

They both stood, bowing to you and walked swiftly out of the parlor. “You too. The princess and I need time alone.” Claire announced to the guards. Rufus’s eyes caught yours, and with a nod of his head, he and the other stationed guards exited, closing the door behind them. 

Now that you and Claire were alone, she let out a deep sigh. She shook her head, taking your hands in hers. Her eyes met yours, a long moment of silence stretched on, as if she were thinking of what to say and how exactly to say it. Then, after a long time, she spoke.

“Princess, you are right. I do not know how to please a man. But, I do not believe you need to worry about that.” 

You shook your head. “But I do, Claire. What if I am not enough to satisfy him?” 

Your name fell from her lips. Rarely did anyone other than Rufus or Leon use your first name. Your given name. Claire had only used it once before. This was how you knew this was a serious conversation. 

“Trust me, you do not need to worry.” She shook her head. “I have known Leon my whole life. He is a good man. He cares not for that sort of satisfaction.” 

“But it is my duty,” you said softly, eyes downcast, staring at her hands holding yours. Such a comforting action, it made you feel safe and secure, even in the whirlwind of your current situation. 

“Yes, I suppose it is. But it is also your duty to make him happy.” Claire said, head ducking to meet your gaze. Her eyes were full of nothing but security and reassurance. “And that is a duty you already excel at, princess.” 

Hearing her say that made your breath hitch. She sounded so sure, so confident that you had already succeeded in making Leon happy. Which was a fact you had a hard time believing. You had hardly spent any time with him alone, how could you make him happy? He hardly knew you. 

“Trust me, Leon is happy. You satisfy him with your presence alone. You do not need to do anything other than exist to make him happy.” 

Day morphed into early evening, dark clouds had once again rolled in over the mountains, promising a downpour late into the night. Thunder roiled outside the palace walls, matching the thundering of your heartbeat in your chest. Which had been racing for near hours by now. 

You were in your wedding dress – swathed in white laces, silks, and satins. Gauzy ivory cascaded down your frame, the veil attached to your head trailing down to drag behind you on the floor. Gloves adorned your hands, jewelry laid against your skin. Diamonds and pearls and the ruby dragon scale. The seamstress had tried to convince you not to wear it. She claimed it did not match the dress or the event. But this dragon scale had been Leon’s first personal gift to you. You would not part with it. 

It had been dipped in gold around the edges. That very evening he gave it to you, you had sought out the palace jeweler, requesting it be made into a wearable piece. Two days later, he had brought it to you – the edges and back of the scale encased in gold, the front surface polished and shiny. It was attached to a thin, delicate chain. And since you had put it on, you had not taken it off. And you would not part with it, even today. 

Your ladies had interceded, telling the seamstress of its importance and that as it was your request, you should not be told to take it off. With a heavy sigh, the seamstress had conceded. You had even heard her grumble under her breath that it was beautiful, even if it did not match the occasion. That admission made you smile. 

That smile faded swiftly though, as you stood behind the large wooden double doors of the palace chapel. Your heart raced, your palms sweating. This was it. Your final moments before being tied to a title, a kingdom, a duty. None of which you had chosen. Even if you had come to favor – perhaps even love – Leon, this was still forced upon you. Not your choice. 

Beside you, Rufus seemed to be able to hear your thoughts. He was the one who knew your every worry surrounding this arrangement. He heard your every qualm, every anxiety, every wish to go home. He stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back. Even Rufus was clothed in the finest of fabrics. Ceremonial robes draped from his shoulders, a gold hilted sword at his hip. He was here to protect you, yes, but also to be your support. 

“You look lovely, princess.” He whispered, head tilted downward. This conversation was just for you. 

“Thank you, Rufus.” 

“It will be over soon, I promise.” He added, his gruff voice as comforting as possible. 

“No,” you breathed, “it will not. This is only the beginning.” 

You heard Rufus let out a sigh, the sound of his boots soft as he stepped back. He knew you were right. This was only the beginning. The start of your new life. The future Queen Consort of a kingdom you were not native to. Married to a perfect stranger. A palace you were not still fully familiar with your new home. All unfamiliar territory. A future you never asked for. A future you never agreed to. 

Though you supposed to outside eyes it was not the worst arrangement – marrying the Crown Prince. One who was handsome and kind and steady. To be the future Queen Consort to a rich and vibrant kingdom who valued its citizens and had a just ruler. There were dragons, as well. There were many upsides to this arrangement, you knew that. But the price? Your freedom. 

Music seeped through the doors, snapping you from your haze. The guards stationed at the doors stepped forward, grasping the handles and hauling them open. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you faced the congregation in the chapel. All eyes turned to you, music continued in a slow lilt as Rufus stepped closer to you. 

Just as you stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the chapel, your eyes met Leon’s from the other side of the aisle. The room went silent, the music faded, everything muffled, as if you were dunked underwater. You blinked, soaking him in. His strong stature, his soft eyes. This was the prize. No other person, no other duty mattered. These people – noble vultures watching with hungry eyes, the counselors with cruel intentions, your ladies with graceful smiles – none of them mattered. Only Leon. 

He was a vision. His tall, broad frame draped in royal robes. Rich hues of deep reds and golds. Velvet fabric cascaded down his shoulders, that ceremonial sword at his side. His crown of gold encircled his brow, the Kennedy crest above his heart, that gold dipped ruby earring hanging from his ear. His hands were gloveless though, and as you slowly walked toward him, you wished your own hands were bare to feel his warmth. 

Your eyes stayed locked on his as you paused at the foot of the altar, dipping into a bow, head ducked in reverence to the divine. Upon rising, you saw Leon’s eyes had dipped down from your face – locked on the scale that rested below your collarbones. Blue eyes snapped back up to meet yours, hand reaching out to assist you in stepping up the stone steps to stand before him. 

This was the prize. Leon was all that mattered. You were his happiness, and he would be yours. And really, this prospect did not sound so bad.

Just as expected, rain pelted down as evening dissolved into night. Rufus had been right – the wedding ceremony itself had not lasted long. Vows were exchanged, rings were donned, and claps and cheers filled the cathedral as you walked out. You and Leon had been immediately ushered to the grand hall for the following celebration. There was a feast prepared, the cake you’d chosen together standing tall in four tiers, flowers and gauzy fabric hung from the ceilings. Truly, no expense had been spared. 

Now, you and Leon sat side by side at the head table at the front of the room. A long line of nobles and representatives at the steps. This had been going on for well over an hour – each noble professing their congratulations and loyalty to the future King and Queen Consort of the kingdom. And of course, gifts. Gold and gems and the finest clothes and jewelry. None of which you needed but accepted anyway because to do otherwise would be an insult. 

You wanted to be far from here. Somewhere quiet and calm. Somewhere you could be alone with Leon. Your lord husband. There was somewhere deep inside you that craved moments alone with him, now that you were wed. There had been no time for you to process, to be alone in each other’s presence. Not after the ceremony. But you supposed there would be ample time for that later in the night. Which made you nauseous at the thought. 

Perhaps you should be grateful. The celebration was a distraction – music and food and people. The volume kept your thoughts at bay. The constant conversation kept your worries buried deep. Yes, Leon’s presence at your side was dizzying, but there was so much else going on you had no time to focus on it. Which was truly a blessing in disguise, you supposed. Not to be wholly consumed with the fact of his closeness. How his warmth was mere inches away. How his eyes periodically found that dragonscale necklace at your chest. 

His attention to the jewelry made you somewhat self-conscious. Should you not have had it made? Should you have not worn it today? Did it mean more to you than it did him? A million assumptions swirled in your head as you sat there, the music droning in the background, a pleasant smile plastered on your face in passing. These overwhelming thoughts were interrupted though as Leon’s voice cut through the noise. 

“Would you care to dance, princess?” He asked, your eyes snapping to him. 

Leon leaned towards you, his face close to your own. He smelled good – like leather and something sharp, perhaps citrus. You blinked, nodding slightly. He stood, hand outstretched. Your hand found his, your gloves long since discarded so now you could feel the warmth of his skin against your own. It was comforting and all-consuming as you stood, walking with him down the steps to the middle of the room. 

It was customary for the wedded couple to share a dance before retiring to their chambers for the night. To consummate their marriage. That reminder sent a spike through your heart, but Leon’s soft touch at your waist calmed any qualm in your mind. He began to gently guide you with the slow music, stepping in time with you. 

“You look beautiful.” He said softly. “I have not had the chance to tell you.” 

Your heart clenched at his words. Leon had called you beautiful before, but this time felt different. Perhaps it was because he was your husband now. Either way, it made your heart flutter.

“Thank you,” you whispered, continuing to sway with him, keeping in time with the soft instrumental music. 

Your eyes danced around the room, the discomfort and awkwardness of the situation causing you not to meet Leon’s eyes. There was a heavy presence in your chest, one you couldn’t seem to will away, no matter how hard you tried. There was no reason to worry - you knew this. It was Leon. Kind and steady and strong. Leon, who was now your husband. Worry had no place in your chest. But stayed there anyway. 

“Are you alright, princess?” He questioned, his voice low and soft. This moment was between the two of you. For no one else to be part of. 

You looked at him, eyes meeting his now. Again, you caught the tail end of a glance of his eyes toward the dragon scale necklace resting against your collarbones. There was something about the necklace that had him in some sort of trance. That stab of insecurity, the one that bloomed from his constant periodic glances at the pendant, flooded your chest again. Really, did it mean more to you than it did him? Well, of course it did. But was he upset that you’d gone and made something out of what was supposed to be nothing? Heat crawled up your neck, blooming onto your face. 

“Yes, I’m fine.” You nodded with a mumble. “This is all just a little overwhelming.” 

Leon hummed under his breath, seeming to understand your statement. Maybe even agree with it. “Yes, it is. There are far too many people.” 

A smile stretched across your lips at his admission of the crowd of people. He was right - there were too many people. The buzz of loud voices, the music, the cheers and shouts of celebration. It was overwhelming. Leon smiled in turn, his eyes a little lighter. He seemed pleased at the prospect that he could make you smile. You liked that he could make you smile. It was a trait about him you loved. 

The music stretched on as you swayed with Leon, his touch gentle and his gaze soft. The crawling feeling of discomfort grew in your stomach as he intermittently glanced down at the pendant against your chest. It made you dizzy – why did he care? Why was he so enamored with the jewelry? Of course, you cherished the scale enough to make it into something to keep. Something to have with you always. When you caught him looking for the dozenth time, you opened your mouth to speak. Then the music immediately stopped. 

You and Leon paused, the sound of the King’s hands clapping together to catch the attention of the room. His eyes – kind and soft, and Leon must have inherited them – found the two of you. His mouth stretched into a wide smile as he began to speak, voice booming across the banquet hall. Leon shifted on his feet, his arm securely wrapped around your middle, keeping you close to his side. And in that embrace, you felt safe. 

The King began what could only be called a speech. He praised his son, the union between you that was presented to him by your own family. And then he praised you – his voice and his eyes warmed as he looked at you. He called you kind, graceful, a welcome addition to the palace and the Kennedy name. He said they were blessed by the gods for your presence. That you would make the best of wives for his son. 

Heat crawled up your neck, your ears burned. You bashfully ducked your head, a small and embarrassed smile stretching across your face. Never had you received such praise. Leon’s grasp on our side tightened, a small squeeze of reassurance. Of agreement. Your eyes cut to him, only to find he was looking at you. His lips were curled in that soft smile he reserved only for you. You blinked rapidly and looked back up at the King. He was smiling down fondly at the two of you, his hands coming together in a cheerful applause that the entire room followed in suit. This was your send off. 

That realization sunk into your chest, panic settling into your bloodstream. Leon took a step back, his hand gentle at the small of your back. He dipped his head a sort of bow, and you followed, returning the gesture of respect. He held out a hand, waiting for you to take it. You slipped your hand into his, his palm warm against your own skin. He turned you around, almost like he was showing you off to the room. And you supposed he was, slowly spinning you around, his eyes on you fondly. He then began to step forward, walking through the hall toward the large double doors. 

You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart pounding in your throat. Warmth spread over your skin. This was it. The night you had spent the last weeks dreading. 

Leon’s chambers were sprawling. You had thought yours were huge. Leon’s were bigger. You could fit your own rooms inside his with over half the space left over. You weren’t sure why someone would need so much space. But he was the Crown Prince. You supposed space was his right. 

The room was warm and dimly lit, a fire crackling in the large stone fireplace. Just like the night before, lightning crackled across the sky, thunder rumbling over the mountains. You stood awkwardly by the fireplace, fingers twisting the rich silk robe tied at your waist. After you had initially arrived at his chambers, your ladies had been waiting. They had ushered you into the connected parlor. That lacy set of negligée the seamstress presented to you that morning waited. Claire, Rebecca, and Ashley helped you out of your wedding gown, carefully tucking it into a velvet lined box. They assisted you in donning the lace, tying bows and securing threads. They topped it all with a white silk robe tied at your waist. 

When they left, it was just you and Leon. It was eerily quiet, and you felt vastly uncomfortable. Leon stood at an end table by the fireplace, his royal robes discarded. He handled a glass decanter of honey wine, pouring the shimmering amber liquid into two small crystal glasses. Your hands twiddled at your front, nerves settling deep into your stomach. It was so quiet, so still in these sprawling chambers that you had no idea what to do with yourself. Except to stand silently and watch your husband’s every movement. 

Your husband. After a few moments, Leon turned to you, crystal glasses in hand and stepped toward you. His eyes were soft still, his steps almost careful, like he was afraid one wrong move would send you bolting from the room. Which you supposed was true. You were tense, almost scared. This was the moment you had spent weeks worrying over. Losing sleep. And he was acting as if it were any other night. 

“Relax, princess.” Leon said lowly, his voice soft and reassuring. He held out one of the glasses for you to take. “Sit, you’ve had a long day.” 

You followed him as he led you to a cushioned sofa by the fireplace, his hand gentle at the small of your back. The thick rug was soft against your bare feet, the air in the room heavy with a spark of hesitation. From the both of you. You sat down on the sofa, your posture was stiff, muscles laced with discomfort. Leon noticed as he settled down beside you, eyes locked on you with a curious mixture of concern and humor. He looked at you, observing your stiff frame as you sat perched on the edge of the sofa. 

Then he let out a laugh. Deep and warm – the kind of comfort that melted your bones. Your eyes snapped over to him as he laughed, your favorite sound in the world. “You look like a stone carving. Please, relax, my love.” 

My love. Two simple words. One plain phrase. It sent your heart racing. You stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads, your eyes blinking as your face grew increasingly hot. My love. It was not anything unheard of, a man referring to his wife in such an affectionate manner. You had grown up with your own father calling your mother ‘my dear’. And in the few weeks you had been in the Palais du Levallon, you had heard the King refer to the Queen as many things, such as ‘darling’ or ‘amore’ – which you’d come to know was a term in one of the prominent languages in the region, meaning ‘love’. 

So no, it was not strange for a man to use terms of endearments on his wife. But it did feel strange to be on the receiving end of this affection. Let alone from Leon. Your eyes fell from his face to stare down at the honey wine in the glass cupped between your hands. A sudden crash of thunder made you flinch, taking you by surprise. There was now a heavy silence between you and your now husband. One that settled in as his laughter faded. Stopping completely when he noticed how rigid his comment had made the set of your shoulders. 

“Should I not refer to you that way?” He asked softly, drawing your attention back to him. 

Your eyes went wide as you stared at him, shock and embarrassment swirled in your belly. “No, no… it isn’t that.” 

“Would you prefer something different?” Leon’s voice was still soft and sweet, careful as he questioned. “Darling? Or something simple? Or should I only call you by your given name?”

Still, you stared at him. And it was in this moment as he floundered on what to call you now that you were married, that you realized he was as worried as you were. As scared and anxious about this whole arrangement. It had never once occurred to you that Leon would be troubled by this arrangement or any interaction between the two of you. But as he spoke now, you realized that he must be. Especially if he was now focusing on something as trivial as a pet name. 

“Princess –” 

“No,” you shook your head, very suddenly finding your voice. You met his gaze, seeing the abrupt shock – or maybe fear – in his eyes. “Anything but that. Anything. That feels too… formal.” 

Ever since you met Leon the night you arrived all those weeks ago, he had called you princess. It was your title. Your given duty upon your birth. If he were going to spend the rest of your life calling you anything, you did not want it to be that. It was your one request. It felt too much like a responsibility. Like a requirement for his calling you that. 

“I only meant with respect.” He said softly, once more taking you by surprise. Leon was always full of surprises. “I do not see it as just a title. I mean it with all the love and affection I have for you, tesoro.”

Love and affection. That somehow made you dizzier. You blinked rapidly, trying to shake the whirlwind of thoughts from your head. Trying to focus on him in front of you. The word that slipped from his lips had been almost hesitant. Like he was testing it out. You did not know what it meant, you had never heard it before. It was certainly not a word in your native language. As you replayed the word over and over in your mind, you looked up at him, brow tight with confusion. “What does that mean?” You asked gingerly, your voice timid. “That word? What is it?” 

Leon blinked, looking at you, almost as if he hadn’t realized what he said. It seemed it had just slipped out. “Tesoro.” He said softly. “It is a term of endearment, from the native language locally. It means treasure.” 

He was soft as he explained, his voice gentle. He did not speak to you as if you were simple. He explained plainly, with facts. You sat there, sitting in the meaning of the word. It meant treasure. You could think of the word from your own region with the same meaning. The same intent behind the word. You reached to set the crystal glass in your hands aside on the low wooden table in front of the sofa. Then, you sat deeper in the upholstered velvet sofa, facing him now.

“Trésor,” you whispered softly. “That is the word for treasure in my region.” 

It was small, but it was a connection. A small word, said differently between two people from two different kingdoms. It seemed to join you. You longed to reach for him, to have his hand wrapped around your own. A yearning deep in your chest to feel the warmth of his skin against the palm of your hand. But, you did not yet dare to cross such a boundary. But it seemed you did not need to as Leon crossed it for you. His touch was soft and so full of gentleness it made your head spin as he reached out, hand closing around yours. His hands were so much larger than your own, the skin of his palms rough with years of battle training and riding dragon back. But his touch was so gentle. 

Your heart all but lurched as he held your hand, his opposite one coming to rest atop yours, wrapping it in his warmth. The heat radiated off his skin, seeping into your own, warming you from the inside out. Lightning flashed again, but this time you did not flinch. You felt so safe with Leon, even just sitting next to him, with your hand cradled in his. Security wrapped around you like a shawl, a blanket of warmth and contentment. One you never wanted to leave. 

His eyes flicked between your own, a moment of heavy silence tinged with sparks and tension that you could never escape. There was a flicker in his eyes – that beautiful baby blue that you could only dream of drowning in. It looked almost like hesitation. Like he was afraid to make any movement lest he scared you off. But you yearned for him to kiss you again. Just once more. As he had in the gardens days ago. The gentle touch of his palm to your cheek, his soft breaths, the warm press of his lips to yours. You had dreamt of that moment ever since. In your sleep and your waking hours. You longed to feel his lips again. 

And while Leon seemed to know this – or at least assume this – he made no real move to kiss you again. You wished he would. So, in a moment of blind confidence that you were sure you would never feel again, you inched closer on the sofa. Now, your knees brushed his, your noses inches away. You could feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your mouth. Baby blue eyes flickered over your face. Going between your eyes and your lips in a triangle over and over again. He wanted to kiss you too, it seemed. Or at least, that is what you allowed yourself to believe. 

“Tesoro,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the air between you. His eyes were flitting between yours once more, his body seeming to move on its own as he leaned toward you. “May I kiss you?” 

Leon’s question shocked you. He did not need to ask. He had no reason to ask to kiss you – he was your husband. But he did. And you realized it was because he respected you. He loved you, he had told you this before. But now you knew he respected you. He would not do something you would not want. He would not touch you or claim you as his if he were not sure you wanted to be. He needed the assurance and confirmation that you did. This made you only fall deeper into love with him than you already were. 

With a nod and a nearly inaudible whisper of “yes” falling from your lips, he let out a shuddered breath. As if not knowing if he could advance had pained him.

Leon lifted a hand, his palm gingerly coming up to cup your cheek. The calloused pad of his thumb ran over your cheekbone in soft, soothing motions. He inhaled deeply, his eyes now locked on your lips as he inched closer and closer until his lips met yours. 

It felt like it had been an eternity since you last felt this feeling. His lips meeting yours, slotting between your own, his warmth filling your senses. This time though, you were prepared. You leaned back into it, head tilting to the side as he kissed you, allowing your lips to match like perfect pieces of a puzzle. His hand ran down your face, caressing your neck and coasting down to rest at your back. With a small tug, he urged you forward, your knees now slotted between his open thighs. You wished to be closer, impossibly closer. To absorb his warmth, to bathe in his smell, to be his wholly and fully. 

You felt bold, that impossible surge of confidence burning in your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck. That felt natural enough, like the right move to make. Leon seemed pleased with this. His breath hitched and his other hand came to rest at the base of your spine. His fingers dug into your skin through the silky fabric of your robe, the heat of his skin seeping into your own. You allowed him to lead, all for the fact that you had no clue what you were doing. You had no prior experience, no inclination of how to proceed. So, you let him lead you. 

And lead you he did. His large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you in closer to him, his warmth melding with your own. It made you feverish, hot and impossibly impatient, the way he pulled you into him, causing you to shift on the sofa. His hands ran up and down your sides, settling on the dip below your hips, fingers digging into the plush flesh there. Never had you been touched there. With anyone else, it would have been improper. But with Leon, it felt right, welcomed, even. He tugged at you, bringing you closer, one hand dragging down to grip the fat of your thigh, pulling you to settle onto his lap. 

Heat pulsed at your cheeks, your heart picking up faster as you straddled his thighs, your own caging his hips. This felt wildly inappropriate, as if you were not supposed to be in this position, but Leon? He loved it. You could tell as his breath hitched once the weight of you settled on him. He pulled back, only a mere few inches, his nose bumping yours. 

“Are you comfortable with this, miele?” Leon asked, voice a rough whisper. He sounded completely out of breath. His thumbs traced gentle patterns over the fat of your thighs as his hands settled there.

It shocked you that he seemed to genuinely care about your comfort and what you wanted. Well, it was Leon, of course he cared. But, you had heard the stories of how many husbands treated their wives your whole life. That they did not care for their wives’ comfort or pleasure in bed. So that is why his concern was a shock to you. 

“Yes,” you nodded, voice just as quiet and hesitant. And you really were comfortable, you wanted this. There was something deep inside you that yearned for Leon in this way. To be as physically close with him as humanly possible. 

Leon’s eyes darted between yours for a moment longer, as if he were gauging whether or not you were telling the truth. Once he seemed satisfied, he kissed you again. Warm and sweet, but deeper this time. His lips slotted between yours, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. Like he wanted to go further, but wanted to be careful with you. You parted your lips for him, allowing his tongue to explore the soft inside of your mouth. It wasn’t wet or vulgar like you thought french kissing would be – Claire had once described what it was to you, and you had physically cringed, thinking you would never enjoy or want to experience it yourself. It was pleasant, at least with Leon. 

His teeth gingerly bit down on the plush of your bottom lip as he pulled back, tugging it with him before he let go, his face now buried in the crook of your neck. His nose traced along your skin, breathing you in as he left open mouthed kisses along the expanse of your neck and shoulder. One hand came up to pull the silk robe off your shoulder, pressing kisses to the warm, exposed skin. He was worshipping you. His hands running along your body, his mouth kissing your skin. His hand planted on your hip urged you to move, pressing you down on his lap. A gasp fell from your lips as you felt the hard outline of him through his slacks. Your hands gripped his shoulders, the fabric of his blouse fisted in your hands. 

The friction of his hardness between your legs made your head spin, your heart raced faster in your chest, the pulsing you felt in your core deepening. His hands pressed you down again, causing a whine to rip from your throat. You’d never imagined this, that something as simple and soft as kissing him would lead to you no more than humping him. But you did not want to stop, you couldn’t bring yourself to. And Leon encouraged you, keeping his hands firm on your hips as he kissed over every square inch of exposed skin he could find, leaving soft and open mouthed kisses there. 

“Leon,” his name came from your lips in a gasp, your brows pulled taut as you ground down on his lap. 

“Feeling good?” He murmured; his lips still attached to the skin at the cap of your shoulder. He seemed pleased that you were enjoying yourself, using him to feel good. 

“Yes…yes,” you gasped, grinding down harder and faster on his lap. The friction of him was unreal, unlike anything you’d ever felt. 

But, in an instant, that friction was gone. A whine drug from your lips as Leon grasped your body, hauling you up as he stood. His mouth returned to yours, effectively muffling any sounds of protest that sounded from you. He carried you across his chambers, stopping at the edge of the sprawling bed. He was careful and gentle as he set you down, bending at the waist so he would not separate from you. 

After a moment of lingering kisses, he leaned back, a smirk curling at the corner of his kiss bitten lips at how you chased him. “May I touch you?” He asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes,” you nodded, once again shocked at how he asked you for permission. 

He smiled, pressing a soft peck to your nose before he guided you to lie back on the bed. The plush mattress dipped as you laid back, the untouched velvet bedspread soft and cool against your heated skin. His hands ran up your hips and down your thighs, gingerly parting them enough for him to stand between your legs. His calloused fingers coasted over your plush thighs, stopping at the edge of your underwear. His eyes finally dipped down away from your own as he felt the lacy fabric against his fingertips. 

You watched as his brow furrowed slightly, then his hands moved to untie and part the silken robe that adorned your body. A sudden urge to shrink away from him overwhelmed you. Never had a man seen you in such a state of undress. However, this was your husband. He was allowed to see this. And by the look in his eyes, he wanted to see this. Leon let out an exhale, soft and almost disbelieving. 

“So beautiful, miele.” He whispered against your skin as he began to press kisses against your collarbones. His soft lips trailed down your chest and stomach, stopping at your hip with a lingering kiss before he pulled back mere inches. His finger dipped into the waistband of the lacy underwear, and he slowly pulled them down. Softly and gently, he pulled them off your legs, his hands running up your thighs now that you were bare. “Fuck, so beautiful.” 

Your face and neck flushed hot, the suddenness and rawness of his confession made you want to shrink into the mattress. His hands gripped your hips, plush skin soft against the calloused pads of his fingertips. Leon’s lips pressed to your hipbone, eyes fluttering closed as he kissed you there again, then to the junction of your hip, and down your inner thigh. It felt improper for him to have his head ducked between your thighs. For his hands to be grasping you this way, his lips trailing over your thighs.

“You smell so sweet,” he murmured against your skin, nose nudging the fatty junction of your hip before pressing yet another kiss there. He met your gaze through his eyelashes, pupils blown out and face flushed, his brows pulled together as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. 

Leon’s dominant hand ran down your thigh, coming to cup your heat between your legs. Despite there being little to no real friction with the movement, it still made you gasp. His fingers were slow and gentle as he touched, his middle finger now coming into contact with your cunt. Hot and wet and pulsing. He groaned softly, eyes snapping down to look as he gathered your wetness and spread it around. He studied you for a moment – or really, he studied your pussy. It was so fucking pretty. Wet and ready for him. After what felt like forever if his just rubbing your slick around you, he looked back up at you. Baby blue eyes met yours as he lifted his hand and placed his ring and middle finger in his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as he sucked your slick from his fingers, groaning as he tasted you. 

“You taste sweet too.” He mumbled, opening his eyes to meet your gaze again. “I suppose it makes sense.” 

Leon seemed pleased with his own comment, hand falling back to your thigh as he ducked his head back down between your legs. Your face was hot, heart racing as you processed the obscenity of what he’d just done. He had tasted you. And proclaimed you to be sweet. You felt dizzy, head spinning as you watched and felt him press a kiss to your mound. Then, his thumbs parted your lips and he kissed you again. But this time it felt different. The feeling made you mewl, your head falling back onto the mattress. His lips closed around your clit, sucking before he let go with a pop of his lips and began to lap at it with his tongue. The feeling of his tongue on you had you gasping, chest heaving as he relentlessly attacked your clit. His dominant hand trailed down to your opening once more, fingers gathering and spreading your wetness before he pushed a single digit into you. He began to shallowly fuck his finger in and out of you, curling upwards as he thrusted it. 

“Does that feel good?” He murmured against your clit, the vibration of his words making your body jerk. You couldn’t seem to give a verbal answer, only managing a nod against the mattress. “Words, tesoro.”

“Yes!” You gasped out at his encouragement, chest heaving. His relentless pace had your thighs shaking, threatening to close around his head. 

Leon kept this pace, continuing to lap and flick his tongue against your clit, adding another finger to fuck in and our of your cunt. You whined, hands fisting the bedspread as you felt a tight coil deep in your belly. He noticed, all because your breathing picked up, your whines and moans getting louder by the second. In an instant, you felt the tightness snap inside you, hot waves of pleasure racking your entire body, legs shaking and back arching off the bed. You came with Leon’s name on your tongue, his name between broken whimpers and cries of building overstimulation. And Leon drank every drop you had to give. His tongue licked your pussy clean, his fingers retreating from you. And he licked those clean as well. 

He sucked your cum off his fingers as he stood from where he knelt before the bed, his own breathing heavy as he placed his warm hands on your sides again. “Are you still with me?”

Your eyes blinked open as you heard Leon’s voice, your mind still hazy and skin still hot as he knelt on the bed over your body. “Yes,” you nodded. 

“Good,” he whispered, smiling down at you with a fondness that made your heart ache. He leaned down, kissing you deeply. And as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you realized you were sweet, as he’d proclaimed. 

Your hands shook as you reached up to cup his face, fingers trembling as you caressed his cheeks, lips parting as he kissed you deeply. His tongue licked in your mouth, his hands caging your ribs, thumbs pressing into the skin below your breasts. He pressed kisses to the corner of your lips, the tip of your nose, your cheeks, and trailing down your neck again. He paused at your collarbone, head resting against your shoulder, lips brushing the dragonscale pendant between your collarbones. The heat of his breath fanned against your chest, his hands gripping your ribs.

“Can I show how much I care for you?” He whispered against your heated skin. “Would you allow me this?” 

You breathed him in – the smell of his skin and the oils he wore. His smell alone made you dizzy. “I would want nothing more.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his spider silk hair. 

Leon exhaled a heavy and shaky breath, the heat of his breath against your skin making you gasp. His hands were soft and full of what could only be reverence as he pushed away the silky robe that hung off your shoulders. Next, he was careful as he unlaced the soft, lacy bralette that adorned your chest, pushing the fabric off your skin. Your nipples hardened and pebbled against the cool air as they were exposed, his hands running up your sides to cup the soft fat of your breasts. He kneaded them, his soft plush against his palms, until his thumb trailed up to brush against the dragonscale pendant at your chest. His mouth found yours again, hot and deep and needy. You were now completely laid bare to him, your thighs parted as he pressed his still clothed hips against yours. 

Your own hands wandered down his front, finding the bottom hem of his blouse, pushing the fabric up and off his body. His mouth met yours again as your hands ran over his middle appreciatively, fingers coursing over the dips and planes of his body. He was hard built muscle and callouses, where you were soft skin and warm hands. You had never known a day of work, and he had spent his life training and taming dragons. His hard-earned physique and scars made you appreciate him all the more. Fingers running down his front, you reached the tie at the front of his slacks, slowly beginning to untie them. As you did, Leon leaned back, seeming to be impatient. 

Shifting up to lean back on your elbows, you watched as he unlaced his slacks, stepping out of them, and was now completely bare before you. Of course, he was a sight. If he claimed you to be beautiful, then there must not be a word in existence for what he was. His milky skin peppered with dots and moles, his arms were strong and dotted with scars – the most noticeable at his left shoulder, a star-shaped scar that ran straight through, one you wanted to know the story of someday – his thighs were thick and muscular, a scar along the front surface of his left thigh. The sheer size of him had your heart stuttering. Your husband was overall a large man, tall and muscular and broad. But the size of him… perhaps it was because this was the one cock you’d ever really seen. It stood proud, hard and flushed at the tip. Never had you imagined that you would think a cock was pretty, but Leon’s was pretty. Thick and leaking at the tip. Your eyes drug back up to meet his, seeing his flushed face and blown out pupils. 

You were left in absolute awe of him. Angelic was the only word you could really think of. Leon’s eyes met yours again as his knee dipped on the mattress between your spread thighs. His hands caged your head, nose bumping against yours as he kissed you. It was deep and sweet. He pumped his cock a few times before dragging the flushed tip through your slick. It bumped against your clit, making you gasp at the sensation. He lined himself up at your entrance, the tip notched at your slit. 

“Are you ready?” He asked, lips brushing against yours as he seemed to refuse to part too far from you. You nodded breathlessly, unable to form words over your heart lodged in your throat. “You can still change your mind, amore mio.” 

You shook your head again, gasping into his mouth as your hands came up to cup his face again. “No, no, Leon, I want this. I want you.”

Leon’s eyes searched yours again for a second longer before he nodded, nose nudging against yours. “Deep breath,” 

You obeyed, and felt the first inch of him push into you. Your mouth fell open, a gasp pulling through your throat as he pushed his way into you, inch by inch. Leon’s head dipped forward until his forehead rested against yours, his hair tickling your face. It felt like an eternity before he was fully sheathed in you, his hips pressed flush to your own. Your chest heaved, your face hot as your chest pressed to his.

“Good, you did good.” Leon whispered, his hand running up your side to cup your cheek, thumb swiping affectionately over your cheekbone. “So good. Tell me if it hurts at all and I will stop.” 

You nodded against him, mouth chasing his again as he shallowly began to move. The feeling of him fully seated inside you, and now thrusting in and out made your head spin. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs parting wider for him as he began to slowly and deeply fuck you. Your eyes fell closed as he moved, finding a rhythm that felt good for both him and you. Mouth hanging open, pants fell from your lips, his mouth capturing yours in one of his deep, sweet kisses. It wasn’t long before the initial discomfort of the size of him was replaced by deep pleasure. And he could clearly tell by the way you were squeezing him. 

“There we go, beautiful girl.” He whispered against your mouth, his pace unrelenting. “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes, Leon, yes,” you gasped between broken whines and moans. 

Leon smiled against your lips, kissing you again as he picked up the pace. Your arms were wrapped securely around his neck, fingers threading through the hair at the base of his neck. His hair was just as soft as you had imagined – exactly like the spider silk you loved to compare it to. Your hands gently fisted his hair, and he let out a groan against your mouth. Experimentally, you pulled again. His cock jerked inside of you. Oh, he liked that. You did it again and again, keeping your grip on his hair tight but not so that it would be uncomfortable. His hips snapped against yours as he adjusted the angle of his hips. You weren’t sure why, you were comfortable beneath him. Maybe he was uncomfortable on top of you. 

But then you felt it. He hunched over you, one hand coming down to grasp the underside of your thigh and hiked it up around his hip. You gasped, loud and high pitched as the tip of his cock nudged that sensitive spot inside you. He groaned, voice muffled as his lips were locked on yours. “There it is.” 

You weren’t sure what he was talking about, but it felt so good it made you dizzy. Your heart pounded in your ears, toes curling, and gasps getting louder as he fucked you. No, as he made love to you. This was a proclamation of his love and his want for you. This was far more than the duty between husband and wife to produce heirs. This was truly for pleasure and love. You could feel it by the way his dick moved in and out of you, hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you over and over again. Your hands ran down his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades as your own hips began to cant up against his. 

“Leon,” you whined, head turning to the side before you ducked your face into the crook of his neck. 

“I know,” he whispered against your skin, tongue laving at your shoulder as he continued the same pace. 

Leon kissed and nipped and sucked at your skin in encouragement, holding your body to his, chest pressed against yours. His hips pistoned into you, your breaths mingling in the small space between your faces. Your noses bumped and nudged together as you tilted your face forward, lips chasing his for the relief of his kiss. He obliged you, lips slotting between yours as you finally came. You gasped into his mouth, nails clawing at his back as you shook and trembled beneath him. Stars danced behind your eyelids, your pulse racing as you whined and mewled, the sounds muffled against his mouth. 

Your orgasm lasted for what felt like ages, the feeling of him continuing to move inside you prolonging the waves of indescribable pleasure. Leon’s own movements were jerky, messy and uncoordinated. His hips stuttered against yours, his face ducking to bury in the crook of your neck. As you felt the waves of your pleasure ebb away, you could tell Leon’s own was just starting. He snapped his hips against yours harshly, punctuating each deep thrust with a pant of hot breath against your skin. 

“I love you.” He whispered, lips brushing against your neck. “I have since the day–” he cut himself off, a groan falling from his lips. “The day of our portrait. Gods, your smile. I love it. I love you.”

Leon gasped, his body curling into yours as he came, spilling deep inside you. He punctuated his orgasm with a last few deep thrusts before he stilled inside you. Your blood roared in your ears at his confession, mixed with the feeling of his cum spilling inside you. Your hands gently ran up and down his back, soothing him through his own peak of pleasure. It was mindless, your movement of comfort. Because your head was spinning. Leon had loved you almost instantly. He had fallen for you so soon. Much sooner than you had. Of course, since the night you met him you had been enamored with him. However, your love for him came later. You couldn’t even properly place it, when the love for him became real to you. Perhaps the night of your betrothal ball. Or when he kissed you in the gardens. Though, really, you thought it must have been when he gifted you one of Shirsos’ scales. That scale dipped in gold around the edges that now rested between your breasts.

“I love you too.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair, hands still soothing his back. 

You swore you felt him flinch, or heard a gasp. His arms snaked around your middle as he laid his weight atop you, his cock softening inside you. Leon held you close to him, his face still buried in your neck. As if he could not bear to meet your gaze. However, you wished to see his eyes. Those gorgeous cerulean eyes you loved so much. Your dominant hand trailed up his back and shoulder until you cupped his cheek, urging him to lift his head. At the sight you saw, your heart almost damn near stopped. 

Leon’s eyes were watery and red rimmed. His face was covered in that deep beautiful flush, his brows curved up, lips downturned as his eyes swam with unshed tears. Your chest clenched at the sight, at the knowledge that he was crying. Your thumb smoothed over his cheekbone, catching a stray tear that finally fell. Eyes searched each other as you thought of what on earth to say to him. How to offer him any semblance of comfort. 

“Leon, I love you too.” You whispered, your own voice hoarse and rough. 

This second and affirming admission was what really broke him. His eyes squeezed shut, his face nuzzling into your palm. Despite the silent tears that coursed down his cheeks, he had a smile on his lips. Soft and what could only be described as content. Happy, fulfilled. 

Life as the Crown Prince’s wife had proven quite enjoyable. Your days were filled with good company and undying love. From your new family, your ladies, your future subjects, and most importantly, your husband. Your husband. 

Leon was your greatest blessing. The night of your wedding had been spent in a tangle of limbs, trading kisses and admissions of love. Leon told you he first knew he loved you the day of your portrait. Or really, when he had taken you to the stables to meet Shirsos. He confessed he had never previously believed in any legend of dragons seeing into the soul of a person. But his view on that changed when Shirsos met you. The dragon loved you, almost more than she loved Leon. 

You had told him your love began when he gifted you Shirsos’ scale. That scale – it had nearly killed him. That night, after you had come down from your highs with him still nestled deep inside you, he told you what that scale around your neck did to him. To Leon, it may as well have been a proclamation of your belonging to him. Conscious or not. He loved seeing it around your neck, nestled comfortably between your collarbones, which was one of his own favorite places to be. 

Leon never pushed duty on you. Never rushed you to bear his children. In fact, he declared to you he wanted you all to himself for a while before you even began the discussion of children. That alone made you happy. He did not hold you to any expectation other than being you. And you were happy to be his wife, but he also saw you as more than just his wife. You were his everything. And in turn, he was yours. 

Tales and stories of your love circled the globe. How despite being sold off to each other, you found love and home in each other. A comfort to many a royal or noble across lands. Citizens of your own continent and many others swore Leon would rule with grace and a level head, and you at his side cemented these theories. He was firm in war council until you walked in. He was regal at the head of banquets until he took his seat next to you. He was viewed as cold and unloving and incapable of feelings until he married you. The world knew Leon of House Kennedy was soft for his wife, and he would have it no other way. 

Leon was your greatest blessing from the divine. And all it took was a simple political negotiation, and a single bloodred dragonscale dipped in gold around the edges. 

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