The Consort, Chapter 25

[maddycain]

one week later…

Jillian helped DG on with her jewelled choker. “You need more pins for your tiara, ma’am?” she asked.

DG gave it an experimental tug. “No, I think it’ll stay. I wish I knew a spell to make it lighter.”

“I know you don’t like wearing all this finery, Your Majesty.”

She smiled into the mirror. “I’ll gladly wear it tonight, Jillian.” She was getting ready for a grand state ball to celebrate Cain’s return, the capping event on what had been a whirlwind week. It was white-tie formal, which meant DG would be dressed more regally than she would be for any event except a coronation. Her gown was an elaborate floor-length affair of satin and silk in pearl-gray and royal blue, off the shoulder, elbow gloves, the works. Her hair was elaborately curled and pinned up to surround the tiara. She put a hand to her stomach, enclosed in a corset, a garment she only rarely agreed to wear. “I feel like I’m going to spill out of this,” she said, eyeing her bosom, upthrust by the corset. “It looks like my boobs are being served up on a plate, for crying out loud.”

Jillian laughed, accustomed by now to her mistress’s frankness. “You do look beautiful, ma’am.”

DG put her earrings in. “Not bad,” she said, eyeing herself.

The door opened. DG knew who it was. No one else would dare come in without knocking. “We’re not late yet, but it’s getting there,” Cain said, coming around to the dressing area. She straightened up and faced him, enjoying the blatant wide-eyed stare he gave her. He shook his head, smiling. “You look stunning," he said, looking a bit off-kilter.

“And you look…well, damn,” she said. White tie for him meant f ull formal uniform, navy blue with a red sash, be-ribboned, be-medaled and be-sworded. He looked like a god. She turned to Jillian. “Thank you, that’ll be all.”

Jillian curtsied and left the bedroom. “My favorite color on you,” he said, stepping closer.

“I know.” She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes, saw the look in his eyes, and it was all over.

They were kissing before DG really knew who’d made the first move. Cain’s hands went into her elaborate hairstyle and hers tugged at his high collar, his medals poking her in the chest. She could barely feel it through her corset when he slid his arms around her impressively tiny waist, made so via significant constriction, and she wasn’t quite sure if that was an erection or the hilt of his sword poking at her through her skirt. But none of that mattered, his kiss was intoxicating enough that she didn’t care that they were messing each other up.

“DG,” he breathed, kissing his way down her neck, her choker rattling against his teeth. “We’re supposed to be downstairs in fifteen minutes…”

“It doesn’t take long,” she said, determined. She pushed him backwards and sat him down on a chaise, then crouched before him and went to work on his fly.

“You mean you…you want to…”

She smirked up at him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined doing me like this,” she said, motioning to her jewels and regalia. “Because I sure as hell have imagined doing you in your party clothes.”

“Oh, I’ve imagined it…” He was cut off by DG’s mouth hungry on his own. “But I don’t know…seems wrong…”

“Wrong can be good,” she said. “Come on, soldier. Don’t you wanna fuck the Queen?”

She saw his eyes go hazy; he grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her close to kiss her, hard and demanding. DG lifted her skirt and straddled him, smiling at his eyes when he realized she wasn’t actually wearing panties. “You planned this,” he hissed, not seeming too upset by the idea.

She nodded. “I’m a very naughty Queen,” she purred in his ear.

“Oh yes, you are,” he growled. His hands went underneath her skirt and grabbed her ass, pulling her down onto his lap. She reached between their bodies and slid herself onto him with a groan. “Very naughty,” he gasped.

DG planted her knees on the chaise at his sides and rode him, his sword’s hilt digging into the inside of her thigh, his face in her artificially enhanced cleavage. “Oh God…Wyatt…” It was happening fast, so fast, the impropriety of mounting him in their formal clothes, the knowledge that everyone was waiting for them, the likelihood that someone would hear them…DG had never been quite so turned on so quickly.

Judging by his face, Wyatt was right there with her. He hung onto her ass, muttering things she never thought she’d hear out of his mouth. “DG, I’m gonna come,” he choked, his face pressed into her chest. She ground down onto him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she got there just as he stiffened and came, his cries mingling with hers.

She shuddered and twitched, coming down from a mountain high, feeling Cain’s breath hot on her chest. “Jesus,” she gasped.

He shook his head and looked up at her. “I have the sexiest wife ever,” he said, deadpan.

DG laughed. “Don’t you forget that, now.” She grasped his face in her hands and kissed him hard, just to make sure the point was driven home. She clambered off his lap, smiling wryly. “Now go repair the damage,” she said. “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes. And send Jillian back in.”

He got up, buttoning his trousers, then slid an arm around her waist and kissed her one more time for good measure, bending her backwards, one hand slipping up to her breast and giving it a squeeze. He stepped back with a smile and a wink and left the room. Damn him.

DG ducked into the bathroom to clean herself up and retrieve her panties, and emerged to find Jillian waiting for her, an eyebrow raised as she saw the Queen’s disheveled hair and mussed clothing. “Sit down, then,” she said, motioning to the vanity stool. DG did, and Jillian got to work on her hair. “I declare, Your Majesty,” she said. “My job would be much easier if you and the General could keep your hands off each other.” DG met her eyes in the mirror and saw the twinkle there, and she burst out laughing. Sometimes there was just too much joy in her heart to keep it inside.

She danced with him in the middle of the cavernous two-story ballroom, its walls made of glass so they danced among the lights and spires of the City, other couples surrounding them but unheeded. She was still at times amazed to look up at Cain and see him here, alive, and now in her arms where he belonged.

It was a marvel to keep her up nights how much had changed, and how quickly. If Jeb’s squad had not been captured, driving Cain to his rescue mission, how long would they have gone on as they had been? Maintaining their polite, friendly co-existence, not a hint of what was simmering underneath? Assuming that the other felt nothing, squelching their own unruly feelings for fear of disturbing the arrangement? DG couldn’t imagine not loving him now, not being able to tell him so, not hearing him say it in return, not being able to steal quick kisses in corridors, hold his hand underneath conference tables and sleep in his arms every night. Looking back on how most of their marriage had gone, she was amazed that she’d ever found it satisfactory, that she’d ever been content. She couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t love him. It made her wonder if there had ever been such a time since she’d met him. Had she just deluded herself over the years of their friendship? Had her friendly feelings and platonic affection been a mask for the greater passion that she felt now, the soul-deep connection that was so new but yet felt so old and well-established?

She tilted her head up to kiss him, a quick kiss for polite company. She saw people dancing near them smiling at this spontaneous display. His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her just a little closer. “Nice party,” he commented.

“Isn’t it? Everyone’s in such a great mood.” The ballroom was full to the brim with revelers both noble and common. The guest list had included the usual ilk that were often to be found at these kinds of events, but DG had decided that this wasn’t to be a celebration only for the upper crust. She’d set aside half the invitations for regular people. Anyone who wished to attend put their name into a drawing, and five hundred names were chosen. The result was a more diversified gathering than the hallowed walls of this palace had probably ever seen, and some truly interesting clothing choices.

The dance ended and everyone applauded the orchestra, who were rising to take a break between sets. DG took Cain’s arm and they set off towards the stairs, knowing it would take them at least fifteen minutes to reach them with as often as they were stopped. Indeed, they hadn’t gotten more than ten feet when a middle-aged couple approached, looking very fidgety, clearly wanting to address them. The man bowed and the woman curtsied just about to the floor. “Your Majesty,” the man said. “May I introduce myself?”

DG smiled. “You may.”

“I’m Leonard Halsey, this is my wife Joanne.”

She was just about to make the polite reply when Cain abruptly leaned forward, grinning widely. The names appeared to mean something to him even if they meant nothing to her. “Mr. Halsey!” he exclaimed, holding out his hand. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Mr. Halsey flushed and shook it. “It was our honor, General.”

Cain turned to her. “These are the people I told you about, the ones who owned the house where I stopped my first night on the road. I had Ambrose hunt down their names and invite them.”

“Oh, you did more than that, sir,” Mrs. Halsey said, shaking Cain’s hand in turn.

“I’m so glad you could come,” DG said. “Please allow me to thank you for the help you gave my husband.”

“Didn’t even know we’d done so, ma’am,” Mrs. Halsey said. “We came to the City for the General’s memorial. We were watching on the big screens when he came back…it was just so wonderful,” she said, putting a hand to her chest and tearing up a little. “We headed home and when we got there, what did we find but a note and some money, from the General! I was never so surprised in my life!” She was almost babbling, color high in her cheeks with excitement. DG smiled to herself. Cain had that effect on a lot of women, much as he was completely oblivious to it. “Then a few days later a messenger come with this invitation…and not only that, but he brought back our horse, plus two new ones! A gift from General Cain, he says!” DG stared up at him, smiling. “Oh, didn’t you know he’d done that, ma’am?”

“No, but I’m not a bit surprised,” she said.

“Well, we won’t keep you,” Mr. Halsey said, starting to lead his wife away. “We just wanted to say thank for inviting us, and we’re glad we could help.”

DG and Cain said their goodbyes and the Halseys melded into the crowd. “Nice people,” DG said, low, taking Cain’s arm again.

He nodded. “I thought they ought to be compensated for my having broken into their house and eaten their food, not to mention borrowed their horse.”

They tried to make it to the stairs again, but Cain was pulled away by Stu Dwyer and DG was immediately surrounded by well-wishers; before she knew it she was back near the dance floor as the orchestra resumed their places and began playing again.

“May I have this dance, Your Majesty?” said a familiar voice at her elbow. She turned to find Gerald Umbrey smiling at her.

Oh crap. I haven’t even seen him since our whole let’s-get-married conversation. This could be awkward. “You may,” she said, taking his offered hand. There wasn’t much else she could do.

Of course he was a fabulous dancer, leading her confidently while maintaining the perfectly decorous interval of space between them as required by court etiquette. “Lovely ball,” he said, neutrally.

“Yes, isn’t it?” She was trying to avoid his eyes by making like she was just looking around at all the other guests.

“So,” he said, lowering his voice a little. “When are you going to tell the General that we're engaged? I daresay he might take it rather badly.”

He sounded so serious. DG looked at him, alarmed. “Uh…well…” He dropped her a subtle wink and smiled. She blew air through her teeth, laughing. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He laughed along with her. “I am happy for you, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Gerald. And, uh...I don't think the General needs to know about the arrangement we made. The circumstances were extraordinary."

"I absolutely agree, ma'am. You can rely on my discretion." He cleared his throat. “I hope we can be friends. I do enjoy your company.”

“Possibly,” she said, hedging her bets. “I wouldn’t want to make my husband jealous, would I?”

“I don’t think he needs to worry,” Gerald said. “Seems to me that you only have eyes for him.” DG flushed a little, but couldn’t exactly deny it.

The ball went on until almost dawn, the last stragglers hailing taxis as the sky was going gunmetal-gray with the coming sunrise. DG leaned heavily on Cain’s arm as they shuffled back to their suite. “This dress weighs a ton,” she groaned. She’d removed her tiara hours ago. Cain’s sword and sash had been discarded as well, and his collar was open.

“We’re almost there.” He opened the door to their suite and they staggered across into their bedroom. DG immediately kicked off her shoes; Cain sat on the edge of the bed to remove his. “I had planned to finish the night off by making mad, passionate love to you, but I think at this point I’ll be grateful to get all my clothes off before I pass out.”

“Ditto,” DG said, pawing at her jewels. Cain stood up to help her out of her dress. She hung onto his shoulders and stepped out of it; he tossed it across the sofa. The dressers would retrieve it tomorrow. His uniform was similarly discarded; somehow they both managed to get their clothes off and stumble into bed, not bothering with nightclothes, just sliding between the sheets in the nude.

DG snuggled into Cain’s arms, tilting her head up for a goodnight kiss that started out quick, then turned into another one, then another. Hmm, maybe I’m not so tired after all, she thought, propping up on one arm and working her mouth slowly over his, teasing his lips open with her tongue, her hand wandering over his firm chest. His fingers traced lightly over her jaw, tucking her hair back over her shoulder as they kissed quietly. “Hey,” he finally said.

She drew back. “What?”

He was looking up at her, his brilliant blue eyes shining like jewels in the lightening room, and the feeling she saw there, the feeling he had for her, made her insides go sloshy and unmoored. He touched her face again, a hesitant smile creasing his lips. “Will you marry me?” he said, softly.

DG just stared down at him for a moment, then chuckled. “I know that our wedding wasn’t the best day of your life, but I didn’t realize you’d blocked it out completely.” She started to kiss him again, but he stopped her.

“No, that isn’t what I mean.” He sighed. “I want to marry you, DG. Not because you need me to or because it’s good for the kingdom, but because I love you. That wedding we had, that wasn’t us. That was the Crown Princess marrying her Consort. What I want is for you, DG, to marry me.”

She felt tears starting, again. She had to wonder if she’d cried as much in her entire life as she had in the last week, for sad and happy reasons. “We could…go out to Finaqua when things die down,” she said, the idea spinning out in her mind as she spoke it. “Have a little ceremony in the gazebo. Just family and friends. Wear whatever we want. Have a barbecue afterwards where people kick off their shoes and sit in the grass. And then we could have a real honeymoon, the kind we never got the first time, just the two of us.” Cain was smiling. “I think that sounds perfect.” She tucked her head down into the hollow of his shoulder and hugged him.

“Does that mean yes?” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course, yes,” she said, lifting her head and looking into his eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you, Wyatt.”

He grinned, looking relieved, which she couldn’t fathom. Had he been afraid she wouldn’t want to? That she wouldn’t get it? He kissed her again as the sun’s rays broke over them, their fatigue forgotten for the moment. She pulled him over her and wrapped her legs around him as he slid into her with a peaceful sigh, happiness bubbling up inside DG’s heart as they moved together in a gentle, unhurried coupling that felt like home. She let her eyes fall closed and smiled at the ceiling, his warm skin beneath her hands and his lips on her neck, thinking this is it, this is where I belong, this is who I belong to, this is who I’m meant to be with, this is who I am.