#his queen

Curtis's fists clenched at his side, but he didn't react otherwise.

He knew his queen better than anyone else, including the sorry excuse of a father she had. It'd been little matter to him when he'd given the order to have the older man beheaded in the town's square. Selling his daughter to the highest bidder was more than enough excuse to see the man dead. To have the nerve and try to haggle over the price he wanted for her, now that had been more than Curtis could tolerate.

His queen had fought him tooth and nail, quickly worming her way into his heart with her grit and determination.

He was brute force. She was calculating and deliberate.

The two of them were a perfect made.

Of heaven or hell, Curtis didn't care.

All that mattered was her love for him had grown as deep and enduring as his own for her.

His disappearance from her side wouldn't take long to be noticed. As much as everyone believed he had a leash on his queen, hers on him was far shorter. Neither were never unaware of the other's location at any given time, and this had been no different.

The only hiccup had been his own doing.

He should've gone with his normal guards, but this special trip shouldn't have taken long enough to assemble one. A miscalculation on his part, for certain, and one he'd be paying penance to his queen for some time.

The men who captured him had been lying in wait.

How they'd known his destination, Curtis couldn't say, but he could say that only someone close to him would've known. The thought of a mole crossed his mind within moments of being overtaken. He would discover the mole within his closest ranks if it was the last thing he did. The mole could've easily been working to set a trap for his queen, and that thought alone was enough to have Curtis ready to tear apart the unfortunate spy until nothing remained.

Despite his capture and subsequent torture, they'd yet to find the treasure he'd been adamant about getting for his queen. It still remained on his person, and it would stay there until he could hand it to her. A simple but sentimental token to show his love and loyalty for her and her alone.

During those few moments his captors left him alone, he would reach for that token and pressed it within his palm. Holding onto the hope that he'd soon be reunited with his queen.

That hope would soon be answered when he heard the first rumblings of commotion outside the dank walls of his cell.

Familiar shouts of his guard captains filled his ears even as pounding steps of his soldiers fanned through the encampment.

A bubble of laughter escaped him when he finally heard the sweetest cadence of all.

His queen had arrived.

Limping towards the door, he leaned heavily against the wooden frame, his face resting against the sliver of light. His voice came out barely above a rasp as he taunted, "Last chance to end this. Otherwise, my queen will show little mercy to your ilk."

The man never had the chance to offer an answer.

His body thudded against the outer wall at the same time Curtis's cell door swung open.

Stepping into the room as if she owned it (because she did) was his queen.

Her gaze scanned the room's filthy state with sheer distaste before they landed upon him. He'd never seen her frown so deeply as she studied him, recognition lighting up her features. Her steps quickly closed the distance between them until her hands, gentle as ever, came to rest against his cheeks. The lack of his beard pulled a deep scowl across her features.

"They'll pay dearly," she promised, her fingers tracing over his clean-shaven cheeks. "Their interloper has already been handled. I saw to Franco's demise myself and his son's. His title and lands shall be passed on to young Edgar, who helped me discover their treachery. He's a good boy, and he'll make a decent duke once he's been trained up some."

"He will," Curtis agreed.

Her lips remained twisted into a scowl, her eyes missing nothing of his current state. "As for you, my king, you are going to do nothing until you've recovered. That includes regrowing your beautiful beard."

"Whatever you want, my queen," Curtis murmured, his eyes closing as she continued her gentle ministrations. "I'm forever yours to command."

"You are at that. No more jaunts, either, without several guards going with you? You're not to scare me like this again, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

He sealed his words with a kiss to her lips.

His token for her could wait a while longer.

After all, his queen wasn't through with her vengeance against those who'd taken him, and he'd be damned if he missed her in all her glory. She was a sight to behold in her element, and oh, he wanted to witness it all.