How to rule a king

два́дцать пять

AN: Sorry for the delay. I am not only suffering from a tremendous writer's block but also occupied with traveling through Europe as I enjoy my last month of summer holidays before university starts again. Anyways, here's an extra-sized update with some extra spice somewhere in the middle...you have been warned...now go and have some fun. 

Ronja:

It had been more than two months since Alexei had left me in a blur to meet with Nikolaj "the hunter" to "interview" the last victim of my husband's vicious attack on the Japanese delegation. More than two months since he had stormed back into our chambers, covered in blood, commanding me to pack a few bags only to have us leave the den escorted by a colony of cars filled with soldiers an hour later. My husband hadn't spoken a single word to me during the car ride as he had sat behind the wheel with Piotr on the passenger's seat while Vasyli's head had rested in my lap for the whole drive to the small private airport. 

Minutes after our arrival we had already boarded a cargo plane filled with weapons and soldiers as I had sat surrounded by 35 trained killers, Piotr and my husband himself excluded, with my little son by my side. The whole flight had not only been extremely uncomfortable and in no way comparable to flying in one of Alexei's small, private luxury planes, but had also been spent in complete silence between said man and myself. After making sure his son and I were strapped in tight so we wouldn't get hurt during the bumpy ride, he had placed a short kiss on my hairline and ruffled through his son's dark hair before he had disappeared into the cockpit. When we had finally arrived at our destination in Askoy, one of Norway's many islands, the next day, we had immediately boarded the already waiting TITANIC PART II. just to be on the move again as we made our way towards Florida to chase the American Dream. Ever since then, our superyacht, which had turned out to be more of a disguised warship or floating fortress than a high-class swimming holiday home, had rested a few miles before PortMiami. During our time in or rather, before the States Alexei had spent his days either taking the chopper, which, by the way, had its own airfield on the vessels top deck, to fly off to do business with other rather shady businessmen, or he would simply lock himself and his advisers in the conference room located on the third deck at the stern of the ship to discuss some top-secret mission he wouldn't tell me about.

So much for me being his most trusted adviser.

Every night after he had wholly exhausted himself in the gym, he would sneak into bed with me, holding me closer than he had ever done before as he spooned me from behind. Yet, whenever I had asked him what bothered him he would only kiss the back of my head telling me not to worry. Easier said than done, when you couldn't even leave the bed in the early morning hours to relief your bladder without having your husband panicking on the bed believing his wife had been kidnapped from their shared bed when he had awoken and not found her resting in his arms.

Vasyli and I had once again just recently returned to our ship from one of our many shopping trips through Miami's Design District, where we had left a sizeable amount of my husband's cash as not two, not four, not six, but eight guards had surrounded us the whole time. At first it had been fun to have tourists and inhabitants alike try to catch a glimpse of the apparently famous woman and child protected by a brick wall of men dressed in black suits. Yet, soon it got rather boring to have shop owners freeze their every bodily movement as soon as we had entered the room. Although, I honestly preferred them to turn into statues over them desperately trying to break through my wall of protectors to sell me yet another overly expensive designer bag. 

"Ronja, I have pasta on my pants."

Looking up from my own plate filled with frutti di mare, I realized that Vasyli had indeed drooped a spoon full of tomato sauce over the white pants we had only purchased hours before at a ridiculously high prize. Shaking my head over the child's clumsiness I took the dark blue table napkin placed over my own lap before turning my son in his seat next to me as I tried to minimalize the damage.