Sorry for the delay dear readers, but as this is a hobby, I only write when I have the time and lately that is not very often. I know this chapter is not very long, but I think a year is too long a time, so I split the chapter in two :)
I hope you enjoy! Comment and let me know!
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Elena opened her eyes, but with a grunt shut them immediately. She opened them once more, squinting against the harsh glare of sunlight pouring in through the large bedroom window. Instinctively, Elena attempted to cover herself, grasping for the thin sheet, realising that it was coiled around her bare legs, leaving the rest of her body entirely exposed. Glancing quickly over at Henry, Elena was relieved to find him fast asleep, the sun pouring in through the large windows causing his sheetless body to appear to be bathed in golden light. Elena was glad that Henry was asleep, for a brilliant blush blazed in her cheeks as she glanced at the sleeping king beside her. The way the light touched him, made him appear like all those statues of ancient hunters and mythic warriors that graced the halls and buildings of Lorrea - Strong, beautiful and masculine. Elena suppressed a giggle, as she recalled a time when she was a curious teenager, tracing the curves and fissures of those marble statues, marveling at the differences between the female subjects with their soft curves and smooth figures, and the male subjects with their sharp lines and sculpted muscles. Her blush deepened as she recalled what had transpired the previous evening between her and the naked man beside her.
As Elena thought back upon her wedding night, she absentmindedly moved the medallion on it's golden chain, side to side against her chest, the golden coat of arms chinking softly against the large, royal Kravaolian ring on her finger. It seemed almost dreamlike - and she would have believed the previous night had indeed been a dream, however the large naked man slumbering next to her made that extremely unlikely.
Elena ran a hand through her hair - a nervous habit that her mother had been determined to stamp out - she frowned when her hand became lodged in her golden locks and no amount of finger teasing helped. Elena realised that she must look quite dishevelled if she couldn't even run a hand through her hair.
Ever so quietly, Elena slid from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her as she tiptoed to the marble bathroom, carefully closing the door behind her. Elena scanned the bathroom before finding what she was looking for. On one of the marble surfaces stood a polished wooden box, not unlike the one she had back in Lorrea, however this one seemed a little more ornate, with inlaid jewels and pretty little mother of pearl geometric patterns. Elena opened it, satisfied to find within it, among other things, a small handheld mirror and a comb. As she lowered the lid of the box, the mirror slipped from her grasp and she had to use both hands to catch it before it shattered, causing her to drop the lid of the box, which closed with a loud, echoing SNAP.
Her heart beating a little faster, Elena pressed her ear against the door and stood stock still, straining for any sound of movement. Satisfied that Henry's sleep seemed uninterrupted, Elena looked down at the mirror in her hand, and muffled a sharp gasp, as the image reflected back at her looked nothing like a princess, not to mention a queen. The expertly and painstakingly applied rouge was smudged and the eye paint ran in haphazard tracks from the corners of her eyes down her cheeks. Elena rubbed her fingers against the dark streaks but they wouldn't budge. Elena once more scanned the bathroom, sighing in relief when she spotted a basin full of water and a clean towel next to it. She dipped her hands into the water, instantly shuddering at the thought of splashing her face with such cold water. She cupped the water in her hands and brought it to her face, holding her breath from the coldness. After a few more ice washes, she glanced in the mirror, disheartened that her face still bore the same marks. Elena took a deep breath and clutching the basin on both sides, flung her face into its icy waters. Elena yelled in shock, but only bubbles and a faint gurgling sound escaped the water's surface. Finally, when Elena couldn't take the cold anymore, she emerged, her face dripping wet and gasping for air. She quickly dipped the edge of the towel into the basin and rubbed - or more correctly - scrubbed her face vigorously, only stopping when she thought that she was soon to draw blood. She glanced once more in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. Albeit a red and blotchy one, but a dignified and clean face nonetheless.
Next, Elena tackled her hair, managing to tame the wild strands with the small comb while still leaving some hair attached to her scalp.
After Elena relieved herself, she quietly opened the door, and peeped her head out, smiling to herself that Henry still seemed to be asleep. She tiptoed back into the room and stopped before a large closet. Elena opened the doors, one creaking inch after another, intent on clothing herself in anything really, as long as it wasn't a bedsheet or her crumpled wedding gown that she spied lying in the middle of the bedroom floor. Elena found a large maroon robe, which she slipped on, the belt wrapping twice around her slender waist. As she tied the belt, Elena made a mental note that her next order of business was to have words with that master of ceremonies, who seemed so intent on the number of petals her floral bouquet had to have and the proper lace stitching on her wedding dress, yet had not contributed an afterthought to her wardrobe as future queen.
Elena closed the closet door, sighing with relief that at least this time the creaking of the hinges was much less pronounced than earlier. Now that she was clothed, albeit in just a robe, she felt less intimidated by the slumbering, naked king sprawled across the bed. Even the puddle of silk and lace in the middle of the room didn't seem as frightening as it had just minutes earlier. "It's just a dress," Elena whispered to herself as she picked up the gown and draped it over a chair.
Straightening her robe, she walked to the large bedroom doors and gently opened the left one just a crack, peering into the hall. She spotted two guards standing outside, each as still as a statue.
"Excuse me," Elena whispered, startling the soldier on the left nonetheless.
"Yes your Highness?"
"Would it be possible to arrange a breakfast platter to be sent up? Nothing extravagant, just a few things that Hen- The King," she corrected herself quickly, "if the cook knows what the king fancies - that would be good."
"Absolutely queen Elena, right away," the soldier answered briskly, bowing his head slightly before disappearing from view, his armour clanging somewhere out of sight.
Elena closed the door quietly, shutting out the echoing rattle of metal as the soldier descended the staircase. Stepping back, Elena let out a frightened squeak as she bumped into a solid wall of muscle that had not been there earlier. Whirling around, Elena looked up at Henry's amused face, his lips twitching, as if to hide a smile.
"Going somewhere?" He asked playfully, trapping her within his arms.
Heart pounding painfully against her chest, Elena took a deep breath, hoping it would perhaps lighten the shade of red that she felt blossoming in her cheeks.
"I was just inquiring about some breakfast," she said breathlessly.
"Oh really?" he murmured, backing her up until she felt the wooden door pressed against her backside.
"Yes, I thought that you might be hungry... I mean, that last thing that you ate was at the reception last night," she stammered. His nakedness was causing her to feel extremely self conscious of wearing only a robe and nothing else.
"You are right," he said slowly, running his hands down her sides, resting on her hips. "I am indeed hungry," he continued, the predatory glint in his eyes causing goosebumps to erupt all over her body, "but you are wrong in one respect, my queen - the banquet was not the last time some sweet nectar passed my lips."
Elena looked up into Henry's face, confusion written on her own face. What was he talking about? The last time she had seen any food was downstairs - unless Henry had left their bed for some sustenance before she woke?
As Henry watched Elena in amusement while she lost herself in thought, his hands slid over her hips and delved below her waist, gripping her robe-clad derriere suddenly, kneading the soft flesh in his large hands.
