The Tale Of Two Brothers

Chapter 4

I rolled over and stretched my arms out, smiling in comfort and relaxation before letting out a yawn and slowly rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Unfortunately, the moment they focused I let out a yelp of shock.

Perched in the corner of the room on one of the plush chairs was the king. He is feet were propped in front on him on a foot rest and he was lazily reading a book. Or at least he looked like he was before I startled him. 

My next immediate plan of action was to feverishly grasp around the bed, searching for any type of covering for my bare chest. A deep chuckle froze me from across the room. 

"It is a little late for modestly now, dear," The dark tone caused flush to flood my face as I pulled the comforter up to my neck.

"How did you get in here? How long have you been here?" I stuttered, still pink with embarrassment.

He raised an eyebrow at me, "this is my castle," he flicked his gaze back to his book, "and long enough."

I closed my eyes for a moment, internally wincing at how dense that sounded. "Of course."

Another rich laugh broke my eyes open as he raised from his chair and began a slow walk toward me, picking up a pile of clothing on his way. He stopped at the foot of the bed, setting the pile down near my legs.

I narrowed my eyes at his distance, there was no way I was going to be able to reach them without revealing myself once again and by the look in his gaze, he was well aware of that.

I snuck one arm around the outside of the blanket and leaned forward, turning my eyes up to meet his as I closed my hand around the fabric.

Shamelessly, he was fixed on the deep cleavage I had exposed by leaning forward with decadent promises swirling in his irises. I had to suck in a breath to keep myself from lingering in that position just to watch him longer.

Almost remorsefully, I pulled back, the clothing in hand, and his trace broke. He straightened and spun on his heel without a word, walking to the door. But as his hand rested on the knob his low and powerful tone found me once again.

"I will return in a quarter of an hour. We will eat before we depart for Asgard."

Without giving me a chance to respond, he opened the door and walked out. He gently closed it and there was the click of a lock before his boots disappeared down the hall.

I blew out a long breath, letting my head fall against the pillow as I did. What the hell had I gotten myself into. Tiredness and confusion sat heavy in the back of my mind, but arousal pulsed in the front with worry stitching them all together. I felt like an utter mess. He was not giving me any information on anything important and I had a dreadful feeling about going to this 'Asgard". It was getting harder to believe this wasn't some kind of twisted nightmare.

Saving all rational worries for later, I decided it was probably best to be ready to go when the king returned. He seemed to lose his temper rather quickly and I couldn't afford to be at the tail end of it again. Regrettably climbing out of the warm bed, I ran over to the bathroom with the clothing and locked the door, feeling silly, but slightly more comfortable.

The first thing I grabbed from the pile was a crimson sweater, with a rather reviling neckline. It felt soft in my hands, but as I held it up, I counted numerous, suspiciously colored, stains dotting bottom hem. 

My face twisted in disgust and I tossed it down to the floor, fearing where it, and the stains, might have come from. Wearily, I grabbed the next item in the pile and hardly let my eyes glance over it before letting it fall to the ground in a cloud of dust.