How to rule a king

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Ronja:

"We're almost there."

The voice of the man sitting next to me pulled me back into reality forcing my eyes, that had been pinned on his thumb rhythmically stroking the back of my hand, upwards to meet his own. Tiny white dots scattered in dark blue pupils. His eyes were mirroring a night sky illuminated by the stars.

They are beautiful.

I couldn't tear my own forest colored eyes away from his gaze.

How is it possible that somebody that kind, compassionate and in his own way caring was pictured as a brutal heartless beast. Is that what the world sees in him? A monster with our a soul to feel remorse for its actions? Yes, I agree with them on him being a rather scary character with all his scars and an attitude colder as the Russian winter itself, yet here he is holding my hand for comfort after apologizing for insulting me. He even let them shoot him at our so called "wedding" so I wouldn't get hurt. But if he literally just took a bullet for me what happened to the arrogant man who left my injured self behind in the woods only days before?

"I need to tell you something, принце́сса", he tightened his grip around my hand demanding my attention.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin too, Volkov."

Seeing the look he was giving me I realised my mistake.

Can't keep your mouth shut for once, can you, Ronja?

"I thought we talked about your sassy answers just minutes ago, but to answer your question: I lost my innocence to – what a surprise – some whore at my fifteenth birthday. A present from Mikhailovich...Anyways, my sex life wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about..."

Alexei:

"Hold on. You lost your virginity to a whore when you where only fifteen? Don't you think that's a little too young to have sex with a professional?...to have sex in general?... Didn't you have a girlfriend back then? Why wouldn't you save it for a girl that actually mattered to you? Do you regret it now?"

I tried to take in the never ending flow of questions she threw at me, wondering whether my juvenile sex-life had indeed been rather unusual or if she was simply overreacting.  Why would I regret having a fulfilled sex life? Why was my fifteen year old self old enough to shoot somebody, but not mature enough for other pleasures? And why did it matter if a young, stupid boy from the street "wasted" his innocence on a random woman. It wasn't like I had been a price  groomed for a multi-million dollar marriage arrangement like a certain girl sitting next to me.

"You are a curious one, aren't you? But will grant your mind some peace...Yes, I lost my virginity to some whore when I was fifteen, which I don't regret at all. Once I've introduced you to sex you're going to understand why, принце́сса. I was a horny teenager training to be the next big thing I neither had time for demanding girlfriends, nor was I interested in all this relationship shit. I sought relieve and whores could give that to me probably even better than any other girl I had known back then."

"But were you never interested in finding actual love? I mean you are turning thirty-four in a few days and you just married me to magnify your business. Did you seriously plan on spending your whole life screwing whores and never falling in love?"

That girl. Always demanding. Always asking questions. Questions I'm not used to answer. Why am I even answering to her? I had never answered to anybody but Mikhailovich and he's been dead for years. So why am I feeling like I need to explain myself to her?

"It's hard to find love when everybody just wants to be with you because of the money and power that comes along with it. I learnt my lesson when my own mother left me in the streets to freeze to death. I'm done trusting people, seeking out their love, beging for their acceptance. Momma taught me well, принце́сса."

Ronja was silent for a short while, thinking about what I had just told her. Maybe this had been a first for her too. I knew her grandfather had kept her hidden from the world for most of her life, but I had a hard time imagining her ever feeling truly abandoned by her family. Although Vitali didn't appear as the most loving man, I knew he had cared deeply for his granddaughter. After all, being more than just good at reading people had made me realize rather quickly that saving his business had only been a small part of why he wanted me to marry his heir. He had wanted someone to protect her from his enemies after his death. And who was better suited for the job of protecting the princess than Russia's most feared man?

"I don't give a fuck about your money. I can hold my own ever since I stole a few millions in cash from my grandfather. Can you imagine that he didn't even realised he's missing nearly five million pounds? He was too occupied fucking whores. And your mother was a bitch, but that doesn't make every woman in your life one too, you know?"

She was staring at me.

Those eyes held so much innocence.

I started stroking her hand again. I couldn't help winking at her.

"Now I know who to turn to should I ever run out of my billions. I still got something to tell you, принце́сса." 

Translations:

принце́сса = princess