The Heir Apparent - a historical why choose, rh, poly, MMF, spicy romance ✅

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tolliver

I had managed to keep my distance from her.

After my confession in her bedroom after the poisoning, it had not taken long for me to realize what a mistake I had made.

I could not confess things like that to my queen.

I could not dangle my desire in front of her face, wondering if some day she might reach for it.

She could not.

That could not happen.

Was it a stab to the gut knowing that she could—and did—reach for not only Riven, but Casimir as well, when I could not know what that was like?

Yes.

Of course.

But the fact of the matter was, it would not impact the well-being of the kingdom for her to be involved with those men.

It could very well impact it if I were to be with her. If I were to get distracted. If I were to grow soft and not push her as I had been doing from the beginning.

She had made great strides since coming to the palace.

She had once been a confused, naive girl. She had transformed into a knowledgable ruler.

Did it bother me to watch parts of her wildness slip away, falling behind the mask of leadership?

Of course it did.

I liked Anevay's fire.

But calm, confident rulers were what was best for the kingdom.

That was what mattered.

Not that it did not kill me to see her want to say something at one of the dinner parties, then stifle herself and choose a more diplomatic thing to say.

It was simply how things must be.

I also comforted myself with the knowledge that the fire was not banked. It was just hidden. She brought out all the heat in our lessons, questioning me, challenging me, and often screaming at me when we got too far into an argument to find any sort of middle ground to stand upon.

The continued fighting should have frustrated me. On the contrary, though, I found myself craving them, looking forward to them, even evoking them on occasion.

One might propose that I sought them out because it was as close as I could get to having what I wanted with my new queen without actually having it.

Indeed, as much as it pained me to admit it, I would often leave those arguments with my cock straining in my trousers, demanding I reach down and find relief. To the mental image of slipping said cock into her pretty, opinionated mouth.

All those inappropriate thoughts, and the arguments I stoked the flames of because of them, needed to stop.

I needed to be able to move on from it.

For the good of the kingdom.

And for my own damned sanity.

So I did what I needed to do.

I stayed away from her.

Was it working in saving my sanity? No, no it was not. Yet I tried to convince myself that it eventually would.

That was what my mind was on instead of the damned scrolls in front of me, important documents collected about the traitor Penn and his close connections.