Crazy Duke and Fallen Queen

Chapter 13 - His Duchess



«Don't talk like that,» the Duke whispers in what sounds more like a request than an order.

His voice is so desperate that I turn my head and openly look at him. His eyes are not glaring anymore, and he looks exactly like a puppy that was scolded by its owner.

«Don't think of yourself as a prisoner, and don't be so polite to me...» he continues.

I startle when he stretches out his hand, but I don't step back when he moves the hair from my shoulder.

«And don't be so afraid. I won't hurt you.»

His hand slips down and caresses my back slowly. He drags me into his arms, and I can't oppose him because I don't want to die. I'm not doing it on purpose. I'd like not to be afraid, but how can I?

When I calm down my breathing, I press my palm on the Duke's chest, and I move it up, slowly.

«I'm sorry,» I mutter, and I lift my gaze on him. «I won't do it again...»

Even though I'm not sure what angered the Duke.

I press my lips on the corner of his mouth, and I wait for any kind of reaction. He doesn't chase me away, nor he presses me down on the mattress. He just stays there, with me in his arms.

«What are you sorry for?» he asks in a rather cold tone.

I smile and surround his neck with my arms, firmly set on avoiding the interrogatory. I kiss his neck the same way he did with me a week ago. Even though so much time passed, I still remember his caresses and the way he called my name.

Since he's not moving, I press him down, and I sit astride on his lap.

If he doesn't want to turn a blind eye, I'll remind him that I still have some utility to him, a pleasant utility at that.

After the decision to accept the truce was taken, I've passed on the second part of the plan for Polis' survival: training a hundred of young, beautiful spies. I was positive I would die, back then, but I wanted those prisoners to live the best they could.

My closest aid found a prostitute with a renowned name, and we asked her to teach the future hostages how to please a person.

I wasn't required to follow that process so closely, but I was curious about something I was so convinced I would never have. I've had the time to learn a thing or two, even though I didn't think I could really use that knowledge.

Thanks to that, now I stand a chance to survive.

I try to lift the Duke's shirt, but he stops my hands and arches his brows, surprised.

«Where did you learn this?» he asks, rather calmly. He doesn't look bothered that his wife just did something as bold as to sit on his lap. He's more curious about where I took the idea from.

I freeze in place, and my blood stops circulating. Without thinking, I've pointed the end of a sharp blade to my throat. No matter how calm a man is, he can't like the thought that his wife had an idea that a virgin shouldn't be able to conceive. Ethirian women aren't allowed to engage in bed activities before marriage, so I should have predicted that the Duke wouldn't just let me play this card. At least, I haven't done anything too lewd. I still can save myself from here.

«I don't understand,» I utter without moving from the Duke's lap. «What is your grace concerned about?»

I wouldn't have thought about doing something like this if I didn't hear the prostitute's explanations first. Still, I can try to act as if it's my true nature.

Does it mean that I'll have to act like this for the rest of my life, not to let the Duke realise that I'm just a shy little girl and not an actual temptress? As long as I have a life to pretend, it's all right! I'll even pretend to like it!

«First of all, use my name. It gets on my nerves when you say 'your grace',» he says, beaten. At least, his voice is calm, and his arms are delicate when he hugs me. «Understood?»

I nod, as there's nothing else I can do. I'm not sure if the Duke is trying to comfort me with his arms, or he's just preventing me from leaving.

«Say it,» he oders, looking directly into my eyes.

«Alexander,» I stutter, and my body temperature gains some degrees.

His gaze is so firm, yet so gentle. I'm slowly starting to believe that, maybe, he won't kill me if I say the wrong word. Is this an effect of calling his name? Should I say it more often?

«Better,» he accepts. «Now, let's clear a few points. I won't kill you, Theodora, so you don't need to panic in front of me. All right?»

I nod again, still unable to talk.

«Also, I don't care if you don't know how to draw or embroider. I can hire a teacher for you, but only if you are interested.»

«I'm sorry for lying to you,» I breathe.

«Still, you can use that same story if another person asks you about the paintings.»

«I'm not that believable,» I sigh.

«I think you are. However, you're a Duchess. No one will dare to consider your words a lie: if you say that you were painting souls, then it's the truth.»

«I will remember it.»

«No, you have to understand it, Theodora. You're not a prisoner, but my wife. I'll protect you when you need it, and I'll help you with any issue you have. You're not just a Duchess in the name. You're my Duchess.»

«It's hard to believe in such a short amount of time,» I explain.

I try to sit back on the bed, but the Duke doesn't release his clench. So, it turns out that his real intention isn't comforting me.

«For now, stop shaking like a chicken,» he proposes with a charming smile, and I really consider believing him.

He rubs my back slowly until I get tired of trembling. When I calm down, he smiles once again.

«Good girl,» he murmurs. «Now tell me what you were trying to do.»

My cheeks start burning, but I don't dare to move my gaze away. What was I trying to do when, exactly? I've done so many stupid things in just a few minutes. Which one does he want to know about?

It's probably about the reason why I'm shamelessly sitting on his lap, a leg on each side of his hips.

«I wanted to distract your grace because you were getting angry,» I confess. «And you don't like the way I talk, so I couldn't continue blabbering...»

In Polis, we use to address people directly with the charge. I've passed my whole life calling myself 'this queen'. When I started panicking, I mechanically began to designate myself in the third person, and that must have annoyed the Duke.

«What was my Duchess trying to say before starting her plan?» he asks, and I blush.

What was I trying to say?

«You can still distract me if you don't remember,» the Duke states, and I hold my breath. Is he asking me to seduce him? He was the one that stopped me, though. Does he want me to act indecently or not?

«I wasn't trying to tell you anything relevant, Alexander,» I utter, in the end. It looks like the safest path. As expected, the Duke smiles content.

«If you have anything else to say, I suggest you do it now that I'm listening,» he mutters while untying the ribbon of my nightgown.

Why do all my nightgowns have ribbons? Is it compulsory, here in Ethiro, or is it just one of the Duke's requests?

But if he likes ribbons, why does he untie them immediately?

«You're getting distracted again,» he whispers to my ear, and his breath on my skin gives me goosebumps.

«I'm not!» I deny, but I'm sure that my guilt is evident in my expression.

When the Duke caresses my knee, I sum up my courage to kiss him. I can feel his lips grinning under my lips, and his hands wandering on my body.

He moved the sleeve of the nightgown away from my left shoulder, uncovering part of my chest. His teeth bite me, and I wince surprised.

Is this what happens when a bride gets distracted? She gets bitten?

The Duke doesn't insist too much, luckily. He kisses my shoulder and my neck, while his hand wanders on my back. I thrill when the Duke's other hand moves from the knee to my thigh. I gasp when his fingers reach places where no one else has touched.

I let my body sink in the warm feeling that spreads along my spine, and I close my eyes, giving in to pleasure.


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