Raiden could only see the back of his bride as she was facing away from him. He walked up to her with purposeful strides and stopped when there was barely an inch of space between them. He could hear her uneven breathing and smiled to himself.
His hand reached out and gently grabbed a lock of her silver hair, twirling it in his fingers. Raiden’s other hand sneaked around and took the princess’s hand, and her breathing hitched.
“Nice to see that my ring is going to be the only one on your dainty hand,” he commented. The princess wasn’t wearing any jewelry on her hands or neck. She preferred not to. They always made her skin itch.
Raiden waited for a few seconds to see if she would reply, but he was met with silence to no avail.
“I want to see you.” Malia still didn’t respond, and Raiden was getting annoyed.
“Look at me, princess,” he ordered in a low tone, strict and firm. Something stirred in Malia’s loins at his tone, and she had no choice but to obey.
When she turned to face him, her gaze was set to his chest. She was nervous to look at the King, the authority in his voice made her quiver.
Raiden used his hand to hold Malia’s chin, tipping her head back so he could look at her properly. The air immediately changed when their eyes locked.
Malia’s grey eyes were a contrast with his blue ones. And the heat surrounding them skyrocketed when Raiden moved a hand to his fiancee’s cheek.
Raiden took in her face.
The princess’s wavy hair fell down her back, enticing him to pull it back and claim her red pouty lips as his. She closed her eyes momentarily, making her lashes fan her face, and the King felt himself getting hard.
He’d only just met her, yet he wanted to push her up against the wall and fuck her senseless. His Red instincts were awakening.
Raiden inched closer, and when Malia opened her eyes. She was surprised to see her fiance so close.
Stepping back, she was grateful that she had broken out of her trance soon enough. “W-we should have dinner.” The princess commented as she moved to one end of the table. Raiden walked behind her, and when he reached her, Malia tensed.
He moved beside the princess and pulled the chair back. The tension from Malia’s shoulders ceased as she realized what he was doing.
“Can I not be a gentleman to my bride?” and the tension returned.
“Your highness, can you please call me by my name or title? I don’t feel comfortable being called in words that make me seem like I’m... yours.” The princess sat down and stared at her hands.
After pushing her chair in, Raiden moved to the other end of the table and rested his head on his hand, “Oh, but you will be.”
Malia’s face burned a fierce shade of red. “But not yet,” she rivaled. Raiden liked that Malia was easy to rile. He was about to respond but the doors to the palace kitchen swung open.
“So what shall I call you, your highness, as you are soon going to be my husband?” Malia emphasizes as a maid poured her a glass of wine, while another placed an appetizer on her plate.
Raiden took a second to think about it until he had an answer. Swirling the red, alcoholic liquid in his cup, he gazed upon the beauty.
“Then you may call me Malia.” she nibbled on a shrimp from the shrimp cocktail in front of her. They ate their appetizers quietly, and Malia snuck glances at Raiden every now and then.
He caught her once or twice, and Malia would blush and look away.
So far, she could say that her future husband was very handsome, at least to her. He possessed dark red hair styled into an undercut and turquoise eyes that she never wanted to look away from. But personality-wise, Malia had no idea. Except that he seemed to be infuriating, pushing her buttons for fun.
“So, what are your thoughts on our engagement?” Raiden asked as servants came to swap out the meals to the main course. Malia looked down and contemplated what to say next.
“I-I guess if I have to pay with the wrongdoings of my ancestors with an engagement, then I have no hesitations.”
“But you avoided the question,” Raiden pointed out. Malia took a big gulp from her wine glass.
It was one of the few times the princess had tasted acholic wine, but she needed to loosen up to answer the questions that were going to be thrown at her.
“Is that a problem?” By now, Malia was a bit buzzed. It seemed that she was a lightweight.
“Not if you make it to be.” The King responded, observing Malia’s slightly flushed cheeks, “But I’m expecting an answer once you’re ready to give it to me,” he added, taking a bite of his meal. Malia followed suit, and soon after, their plates were empty... and so was Malia’s wine glass. Which had been refilled three times.
After declining dessert, Malia stood up, ready to say her farewells. “It was nice to meet you, Raiden,” she slurred.
“Same to you, Malia. Do you need any help getting to your room?” Raiden knew very well that the princess would need some assistance.
“No, thank you.” In contrast to her words, she stumbled, and Raiden moved to her side. He looped an arm around her waist, pulling her side against his.
Malia’s cheeks burned, and through her hazed state, she recognized this was too intimate for her.
“I’m fine.” Raiden rolled his eyes as Malia swayed. He swept the princess into his arms, carrying her in bridal style.
“R-Raiden, I’m okay. Let me down.” Malia tried to fight back, but Raiden’s arms only tightened, and she soon gave up. With Malia in his arms, he moved towards the exit of the ornate dining room.
As the King walked down the hallway, the people loitering turned to gawk and stare.
“Where are your chambers, princess?” Raiden asked, and Malia guided him, her words slurring together every now and then.
“Here it is.” she pointed at a beautiful ornate door which the King entered. Raiden opened the door then moved to the king-sized bed in the middle of the room, on which he placed her gently.
Malia, by this time, was quite sleepy and snuggled into the sheets, but she wasn’t comfortable enough.
“Raiden.” She called out, just in time to stop him from exiting the room. “Can you help me undress? I need help with the zipper.” Malia’s consciousness was clouded with alcohol, and so she didn’t recognize that she’d requested an act of intimacy.
The King smirked. He knew the right thing to do was call a lady-in-waiting to assist the princess, but he’d rather have the honors. Plus, she was to be his wife. What harm did it do to see her in her undergarments?
Malia was kneeling on the bed, facing away from Raiden. Her fiance stepped behind her and swept her hair away from her back, giving him a clear view of the zipper.
Placing a hand on the little metal object, he leaned down till his mouth was at Malia’s ear. “Are you sure?”
Raiden’s voice was low and husky, and Malia moaned lowly from the lust that was evident in his voice. The King heard the sound that escaped her, and he felt himself becoming harder. She nodded, giving him the confirmation he needed.
The king tugged, and the zipper fell open, revealing a black corset and matching lacy black panties. Malia riggled out of the dress, ignoring the pair of eyes scanning her exposed skin.
Raiden had seen women in corsets before, but that couldn’t compare to how it fit Malia. Amplifying her bust and slimming her already small waist.
“Stop staring,” Malia reprimanded him, and his eyes snapped up from the top of her breasts to her flushed face. Raiden raised an eyebrow at the princess’s change of behavior. He knew it was because of the alcohol, which was having quite the effect on Malia.
“You’re the one that offered the good view,” he smirked, which erupted into a full-blown grin when Malia tugged him downwards by the tie.
“I hope it’s more than good,” she asked. Her voice was low and seductive. Malia moved her face to the crook of his neck, placing open-mouth kisses along the curve of his neck. She took off his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt.
The feel of her lips on his skin did something to Raiden. He groaned, wanting more, but he knew the right thing to do.
“Definitely,” The King informed her, and then he untangled himself from Malia.
“Where are you going?” she asked quizzically.
Even though the King wanted the princess, he knew it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of her while under the influence. So he put his urges on the back burner and distanced himself from Malia.
“You’re drunk, Malia,” Raiden told her, composing himself.
“So? I want you...” Malia responded as if it was a plausible explanation.
“Many people do.” Slinging his jacket over his shoulder, he exited the princess’s bedroom, putting an end to their conversation.
Malia huffed, irritated that he had rejected her advances, but sleep was quickly catching her.
So she settled under the covers of her bed and closed her eyes.
Malia woke up with a killer headache. The back of her eyes throbbed, and her throat was dry.
What happened last night?
The only thing she could remember was a dinner with the King, and everything was just a swirl of white. Blank, like a canvas.
She wanted to know what took place last night, but right now, she had to tend to the pounding taking place in her head.
“You have to tell me everything.” Ana busts into the princess’s room. She was clearly excited, and Malia had no idea why.
“What do I have to tell you?” she groggily asks, getting up but then sitting back down. She still didn’t feel coordinated to leave the bed.
“Right.” Anna nodded to herself, realizing something, “You were drunk last night. You won’t remember.” The maid huffed, annoyed. “And here I thought I’d get some juicy gossip.”
“Anna, what am I supposed to tell you?” Malia croaked, needing water.
“First, let me go get you advil and water. You clearly need that first.”
Malia felt offended. Flipping her hair onto her shoulder, she questioned her best friend, “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked in a joking manner, knowing fully well that she needed
“Nothing! I mean, the hangover look is definitely the latest trend right now.” Anna teased as she slipped out of the room.
Two minutes later, Anna was back, and she gave the princess the ibuprofen and the glass of water.
After Malia had taken the medicine, she looked back to Anna, who was staring out the window. “Okay, now can you tell me what I’m supposed to know?”
Plopping onto the princess’s bed, Anna moved to sit beside Malia. “Apparently, King Raiden entered your room and didn’t come out for several minutes. Enough time for a make-out session or something, and when he did leave, he was composing himself as in, buttoning up his shirt.
“Did you have anything to do with that?” the maid questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” Malia answered honestly. She closed her eyes, pushing herself to think back, but everything was still blank, “I still can’t remember!” the princess groaned.
How much wine had I drunk last night?
Malia didn’t know the answer to that.
Anna knew Malia couldn’t remember, so she changed the topic. “I’m curious, do you think the King’s hot?”
Malia’s cheeks heated up. “Well, he’s not bad looking,” she responded, trying to avert the question.
“Yeah... but would you do him?” Anna teased, and Malia became beet red.
“So? I want you...”
“No, no, no. I didn’t do that. I couldn’t have.” Malia held her head in her hands as she relived the memories of last night.
“What?” Anna inquired.
“I messed up.”