The Queen of All That Lives (The Fallen World Book 3)
It does.
She grabs the lapels of my suit, fisting the material in her hands. I feel her shake me roughly, like she can’t decide whether she wants to pull me closer or push me away. I’m not going to give her the option.
“You are such an idiot,” she whispers when our lips briefly part.
I smile into the kiss. “That is no way to talk to the man who just saved your life.”
I allow her to pull away. “You gave them an entire continent.”
“I did.”
“You’re going to lose the respect of your people.”
I capture her hand.
Still alive. It’s going to take several minutes to believe it.
“And you’ll win it back for me.”
Serenity
The king might very well be losing his mind, I think as we pull up to the palace. I’m still going over the last twenty-four hours in my head.
Never has he given up a kingdom for a single person. I doubt he’s ever even given up a car for someone.
Not true, I correct. He gave up quite a few things in the past when my life was slipping through his fingers.
But this is unprecedented.
I exit the car with him, staring up at his enormous Mediterranean home. After spending time holed up in a plane, a dungeon, and a Sleeper, I can’t bear the thought of a roof pressing down on me.
“Serenity.”
My eyes move to the king.
He must be able to read all of my emotions because I see panic in his own. I don’t blame him for it. I’m here, but I’m also a million miles away.
I agreed to kill him.
My throat works. “I don’t want to go inside. Not yet—please.”
I’m so rarely polite, and I see Montes physically react to this.
The king might not be the only one losing their mind.
He gives me a subtle nod, then looks to one of his men. “Have someone get the boat ready, and make sure it’s stocked with everything the queen and I might need.”
As soon as the order leaves Montes’s mouth, one of the guards begins to radio commands to his men.
I’m still stuck on the word boat.
I jog my memory, trying to remember if I’ve ever been aboard a boat. Nothing comes to mind.
A nervous thrill runs through me, chasing away my dark thoughts.
Pressing a hand to the small of my back, Montes steers me around the edge of the palace, towards the back gardens. I can tell he wants to touch me. More than touch. He wants to devour me alive. I can feel his hand trembling with the need.
He’s not alone. But it’s more than just his body I wish to explore. I want to see inside that twisted mind of his and understand what drove him to give up so much for me.
He gave away a territory for me. I intend to take his head.
A sick sensation courses through me, and I sway a little.
Montes notices. “Once we dock at the end of the day, you will get checked out by the royal physician.”
I’ve passed through quite a few hospitals and seen quite a few doctors since I married the king. My prior phobia of them has only increased.
The king must see the fresh mutiny in my eyes. “That is not a suggestion, Serenity.”
I know it’s not. Even if I refused the king’s order, he’d find a way to force me into a medical examination.
It doesn’t mean I like it.
His eyes flick to my stomach, and oh God, I know where his mind drifted. What his motives are.
My hand drifts over my midsection. “I’m not pregnant,” I say quietly.
“You don’t know that.” He looks concerned, but he sounds … hopeful. Of course the greediest, loneliest man in the world would get a taste for companionship and want more.
And he’s right. I don’t know that I’m not pregnant, but it’s doubtful. I took a bullet to the stomach, after all.
Regardless, I’m not having this conversation right now.
I squint off to the horizon, seeing the blue ocean stretch on and on.
“I’ve never been on a boat,” I say.
I’m sure Montes doesn’t miss the subject change.
I feel his gaze on me. “Then I hope you enjoy it.”
Chapter 45
Serenity
I cling to the railing, another wave of nausea rolling over me. I’ve been on this blasted thing for not even ten minutes and already I feel like this was a grave mistake.
I’m pretty sure I fucking hate boats.
“When we get back, you’re seeing the physician straightaway.”
“I’m not pregnant,” I growl.
He’s trying to goad me. I can hear the smile in his voice.
“The waves are bad here,” he says. “Once we get farther out, your—” pregnant pause, “stomach should settle.”
He heads over to me, pulling my form away from the railing and forcing me to sit on one of the plush couches arranged on the deck.
“Keep your eyes on the horizon and rest. I’ll be right back.”
I sit a little straighter as he moves to the interior of the boat. I don’t dare try to follow him out of fear that the close quarters will make the sickness worse.
Montes returns several minutes later with two items—a glass of something fizzy, and a bottle with a cream of some sort.
“For your stomach,” he says, handing me the drink, “and to protect your skin,” he says, holding up the bottle of salve.
I take it from his hand and read the label.
Sunscreen.
I have vague memories of using this when I was younger, before the world had gone crazy.
“You’ll want to put that on your face. Otherwise your skin will burn.”
Sunburns, now that was something I was familiar with.
I have time to neither try the drink or use the sunscreen before Montes takes my jaw and kisses me roughly. “I have to go man the helm. Remember—eyes on the horizon.”
He leaves me there so that he can start up the engine.
He’s doing all this because I asked him to. The sunscreen, the drink, the day out at sea. He just wants to see me happy.
Was this what love was like? Not just something to fight and die for, but something that didn’t draw attention to itself unless you looked for it?
I think back to my conversation with the representatives. The agreement we made, the one I intend to see through to the bitter end.
My nausea only deepens, and I take a sip of the drink the king gave me.
I find the fluid does help settle my stomach, as does watching the horizon. And once the boat gets moving, the last of my seasickness dissipates completely, and I begin to enjoy myself.
My gaze drifts to Montes. He’s shrugged off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He’s also unbuttoned his shirt, so it blows behind him.
Those abs he sported when I met him are still there.
Glorious, wretched man.
Normally I’m taken by how otherworldly he appears, but that’s not the case now. Now he seems startlingly human.
I force my attention back to the horizon, where sea meets sky. It’s such a far cry from the dank dungeon I was in only a day ago.
The boat slows to a halt.
I glance over at the king just as he removes his shoes. Then his socks.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyebrows rising.
“Going for a swim. And my pregnant queen will be joining me.”
My annoyance flares. A command given in the third person, and that insinuation again that I’m pregnant.
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
Montes actually looks charmed by my words. “That didn’t stop you the last time you swa
m in the ocean with me.”
His hands move to his zipper of his slacks.
“What are you doing?”
The king sighs, dropping his pants and stepping out of them as he does so. “Remember what I said about inane questions? I’m not answering that.”
I glance over my shoulder. The palace is fairly far away, but I don’t doubt that there are eyes trained on our location.
Montes’s hands go his boxer briefs. With one swift tug, he removes the last of his clothes.
The king has never had many qualms about being naked. That doesn’t change as he approaches me.
He takes the drink out of my hand and sets it aside.
I lean back as he enters my personal space. He drops to his knees, his fingers going to the hem of my top.
I grab his wrists. “What are you doing?”
“Undressing you, in case that wasn’t apparent,” he says, his mouth curving up just a little.
He wants us to swim … naked? My shock is tempered by a good dose of curiosity.
He must sense my interest, because he takes the opportunity to lift my shirt. I raise my arms passively.
“People do this?”
He tosses my shirt aside and squints at me, his head tilting. “My queen, have you never skinny-dipped?”
I don’t even know what the term means, though by its context I figure it out real quick.
I’m sure my expression says enough.
“Another new experience,” the king says. I can hear the wonder in his voice.
I let him undress me until we both stand together, naked from head to foot.
He spends a moment drinking me in. Then he grabs the sunscreen from its resting spot and squeezes it onto his hands.
I think he’s going to put it on his own body, but then he begins to rub my shoulder, dragging his hand down my arm, massaging the sunscreen in to my skin.
I watch him for several seconds, utterly transfixed by him. Montes appears to be enjoying the excuse to touch me.
“What’s the point?” I ask. He has pills and machines that can do far more than sunscreen can.
He doesn’t look up as he responds, “You don’t like doing things my way, so I’m trying to do them your way.”
I stare at him in awe. He’s a different being entirely from the one I married. One that compromises and works to be good even though it goes against his very nature.
Montes smooths more sunscreen onto me, his hands brushing across my ribs, over my bellybutton, beneath my breasts. I don’t bother telling him this last spot probably won’t capture the sun. I’m enjoying his hands on me far too much.
He touches me with familiarity, and I’m charmed despite myself. He’s taking care of me. Aside from my parents, I’ve never had anyone take care of me. That’s what happens when you’re strong. No one thinks to.
“Done.” He caps the bottle and, setting it aside, stands. “Now for the fun part.”
Without warning, he scoops me up.
I think I know what’s coming.
“Montes, put me down,” I command. Even as I speak, I wrap my arms around his neck. I know better than to assume he’ll listen to me. He just finished making one consolation. Two within such a short timespan would be pushing it.
He just smiles at me, those white, white teeth looking even brighter against his olive complexion. Out here, in the open sun, my skin pressed to his, I notice just how much his body dwarfs mine.
Once, that realization would’ve made me uneasy. Now it makes me feel safe in a very innate way.
That terrible sensation takes root in my stomach again, partly guilt, but partly something else. It tastes a lot like desperation. Like this man, who has outlived everyone else, will leave me soon.
My heart begins to race, and I wonder if, for the first time in my life, I could be a coward and back out of the promise I made to this world. He gave up a continent, I would give up the world. All for him.
But I can’t. I can’t. It’s not in my nature, and unlike the king, I’m not sure I’m capable of really changing.
Montes carries me to the edge of the boat, completely unaware I’m having an existential crisis right now.
He pauses to stare down at me, his gaze latching onto my lips. Right when I think he’s going to lean in, he steps off the edge.
For the merest moment, we’re falling, and then together we hit the water.
It’s cold enough that I almost gasp the ocean into my lungs. And the sensation of liquid running all over my naked skin. It feels … strange and exquisite. I kick away from Montes and come up for air.
The king surfaces a moment later, slicking his hair back. He flashes me a grin. “Welcome to the Aegean. You are now officially swimming in Homer’s wine dark sea.”
I give him a strange look. I know of Homer, but I don’t get the reference.
His eyes soften just a smidge. “When the war is over, I will show you other things that you have missed.”
When the war is over. Not if.
“You believe we can end it,” I say, treading water. He’s never admitted this before. I assumed he thought it was a lost cause, especially now that he traded away Australia.
“Let’s not talk about war for one afternoon,” he says.
I can respect that. He’s given me the outdoors, I can give him this.
I move my hand through the water, watching light dance along it.
There’s a fullness in my heart, like it might burst. With happiness, I realize. It’s all so unbearably wonderful. The sea, the sun, the man staring intensely at me.
“I wish this could last forever,” I say, tasting sea salt on my lips as I speak. It’s far too wonderful, which means it won’t.
I know it won’t.
It can. Montes doesn’t say it, but it’s all there in his eyes.
He swims over and pulls me against him, cradling my body in his arms. And it isn’t lewd, or sexy, or erotic.
It’s romantic. Intimate.
I see the sunset in the king’s eyes, those old eyes that look so young when they gaze at me.
My gaze drops to his neck. I touch the pulse point that throbs to the beat of his heart, trailing a finger over the dark skin there.
“Never have I been so afraid,” I admit softly. I can still see the moment; it plays on repeat in my mind. The moment I nearly lost him.
I’m still so, so afraid.
Montes swallows, his face growing serious. “I know the feeling.”
He did. Had the Sleeper not existed, the king and I wouldn’t be in each other’s arms; we’d be six feet under.
As the water laps at us, I shake off the morbid mood. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to lead the conversation right back to war.”
He presses his thumb against my mouth. “Nire bihotza, to hear you feared for my life … I want to know that.”
Slowly, I nod.
Montes’s thumb begins stroking my lower lip, his brows still puckered.
The sun loves the king. It makes his dark eyes glow amber and his skin brighten. A lock of his wet hair slides over his eye.
This man is mine.
I brush the lock of hair away from his face, allowing my fingers to trail over his features. There’s nothing out here but us, the sun, the sea, and the sky.
“This might be the happiest moment of my life,” I admit. It isn’t grand, and it shouldn’t be particularly memorable—nudity aside—but … but perhaps that’s why I enjoy it so much.
It is beautifully normal.
Montes brushes the backs of his fingers against my cheekbone. “I’m certain it’s mine.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Out of all of them?”
“Out of all of them.”
I pla
y with another wet strand of his hair, and he closes his eyes for a second, like he just wants to revel in the feel of it.
“Why?” I ask.
He opens his eyes. “Because for once it’s not a memory, and it has you in it.”
Chapter 46
Serenity
Doctors have been and will be one of the things I hate most passionately. Especially royal ones.
I’m not very good at hiding my distaste. I know the royal physician can sense it as she inspects me for injury.
Back in the WUN, doctors often meant death. And when it comes to the king’s medics, they’ve been known to turn traitor.
But it isn’t all bad. The appointment is the perfect excuse to look into an issue that I’ve been meaning to for some time.
The king holds my hand from the chair he sits in, but make no mistake, this isn’t some shining example of his devotion. The bastard is making sure I don’t bolt for the door at the soonest possible moment.
The doctor straightens. “Your Majesty, everything looks good.”
I’m not surprised.
“The only thing that’s left,” the doctor continues, “is the blood work.”
The blood work Montes insisted on.
When it finally comes back in, she flips through it. “Not pregnant,” the physician says.
I give Montes a bored look. See?
“Hmmm,” he says in response, and I really don’t like the look in his eyes. Like he wants to rectify the situation immediately.
When the exam ends, the king leads me out.
Once we return to the main section of the palace, I halt. “Shit,” I say.
“What is it?”
I glance behind us. “I left my jacket behind.”
“Someone will return it to our rooms.” The king begins to steer me forward once more.
I dig my heels in. “I’m just going to grab it,” I say.
Montes gives me a peculiar look. He knows me far too well. To willingly suffer through more time in the medical wing is out of character.