Whispers of the Royal Blood | 18+

Chapter 28

Morgana Lavens paced the bedchambers, her gray-blue eyes flickering with a mixture of frustration and determination. Her silken gown rustled with each step, the deep green fabric emphasizing the paleness of her skin. Golden thread was embroidered at the neckline and cuffs, each stitch a testament to the craftsmanship. A jewel-encrusted torque encircled her slender neck, enhancing the overall effect.

Lucius Rhyndir, meanwhile, was dressed in a fine set of courtier's attire. His shirt and breeches were made of the finest linen, his vest and jerkin a rich black velvet. Silver buttons and a silver thread pattern on the vest added subtle accents. A dagger hung from his silk belt, the pommel encrusted with semi-precious stones.

He was lounging in a nearby armchair, watched her quietly, his gaze observant and curious. He sat in comfortable silence, having learned that it was best to let her have her moments of agitation. His fingers toyed idly with a gold signet ring.

"This waiting...it is maddening." She muttered, her voice laced with irritation. She paused in her pacing, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, her perfectly manicured nails like tiny claws against the silks.

The crown prince, seeing her agitation, responded with a calm smile. "Patience, my love," he said, his voice soothing and steady. "These things take time." His gaze never wavered from her, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and indulgence.

The sorceress huffed, her frustration evident in features. "Time...we do not have time, Lucius. Every moment we wait is another moment our opponents get to prepare." She retorted, the words sharper than usual. Despite her irritation, she still felt a pull towards him, his calm demeanour a stark contrast to her own volatility.

She moved closer to him, her hands resting on the arms of the chair, caging him in. "I know, darling, I know." He replied, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. His thumb gently traced the contour of her cheekbone, his touch a subtle attempt to mollify her.

Her proximity was electrifying, the scent of her perfume and the heat from her body creating a heady combination that was both soothing and arousing. He looked up at her, her face framed by the dim light of the lamps, highlighting her features in a way that made his chest tighten.

In spite of the soothing touch, Morgana's irritation still simmered just below the surface. She pushed against his chest, a small but defiant gesture. "Do no attempt to placate me with your sweet words and comforting caresses."

He chuckled softly, his hands reaching up to rest on her hips. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, his voice filled with a charming mix of mockery and sincerity. "But I do enjoy watching you when you are like this, my love." His statement only served to increase her anger. She gritted her teeth, her fingers digging into his chest. "You enjoy watching me when I am irate?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What an endearing trait in a prince."

He winced slightly at her nails biting into his flesh, but his smile widened, his pleasure growing. "You know my fondness for your fiery nature. I have always found your passion...captivating." He replied, his hands slowly tracing up and down her sides.

"My passion is a tool, Lucius, not a...source of your amusement." She said, her exasperation showing, if momentarily, to a hint of vulnerability. Her shoulders sagged slightly, the tension slipping away.