Once Upon A [Stolen] Time - [Stolen] Series I

CHAPTER 9

EDWARD
APRIL 1415

After spending my entire morning at the lake, I returned to the castle, talking to the one I had been dreaming about for years.

I longed to hold her, touch her, and feel the warmth of her skin despite her almost killing me in my dreams. She had looked at me with revulsion, but I was so consumed by lust that I'd even agree to be slaughtered at her hands if that came with her touching me. I'd give her my life if she held my hand, raked her warm fingers through my hair, and kissed my lips so I could drown in her pleasure forever.

I had seen my father turning into a monster for the women he'd keep for his appetites, and the more torture he performed, the more his body craved to consume them. It had never appealed to me, but the woman in my dreams set my body on fire whenever I thought of her. She'd always find a smooth way to enter my mind and secretly invade my heart. I knew if I saw her in real life, my heart would split open—nothing to hide, nothing to lose. It would be an open wound that she could heal however it pleased her.

I reached the table. A lavish dinner was set for King Stefan and his council members and other lords. They had their wives and sisters, but Veronica was forbidden. If Emma hadn't been in her life, she would have died long ago, and if she had died long ago, I wouldn't have survived either. Veronica and Emma were the reason my heart was beating. I had nothing else to look forward to but giving Emma the life she deserved—free of this dictatorship.

I joined the table. It was bursting with food—sweetmeats, figs, cheese, a roast partridge, and whatnot. I took my seat as the servants filled everyone's goblets with red wine.

"Today," King Stefan announced, raising his goblet, his eyes fixed on me. "My son made me proud by continuing our family's legacy." The knights, lords and their wives watched him. It was the first time he had called me his son, only because, according to his musings, I had tortured a woman today.

Raising my goblet for a toast, I gulped the wine in one go. The liquid travelled down my throat, burning my belly and healing my mind. I needed something to settle the burning fire because I was still uncomfortable around Concord. My teacher, Sir Phillip Concord, who taught me self-loathing in my adolescence, sat beside me. He still watched me with his perverted gaze as if he was doing a favour by not sharing our secret on the table with the king and his council. Six years didn't sate the appetite of this beast.

"Toast to Edward Hue," said Concord, raising the glass. Everyone joined him.

"Where is the woman now?" King Stefan asked unexpectedly. I never thought he'd inquire about her. I wager he was thinking of having a bite of his own.

"I disposed of her." The patrons at the table seemed puzzled by my declaration. "She chose to take her life." King Stefan narrowed his sharp gaze, reading my mind, body, and soul. He had done it many times and caught me lying to him, but I sat there calm and composed and stared back at him with equal disdain. He hated me for not hurting a woman, and I hated him for being a monster. We were opposites; we never agreed on anything.

The king chose to remain quiet, but I could sense how curious he was to know if I used her for my appetite. There were women sitting at the table, and I hated how he acted like a gentleman when ladies joined their husbands. I hoped the wench would make it back to her family. I trusted Ulysses. He'd take her safely.

"All right," said King Stefan thoughtfully, reading me through the rim of his cup. "There will be other times." He took a sip. "At least you took the initiative." I wager he was wondering what I did to that innocent woman. I knew what a sick bastard he was, and the more I thought about his approach to kingship and how he wanted me to be, the more appalling it was getting.