But when the door opened, she found that it was Pria, the eldest of the maids, returned with a tray of food.
“King Ember requested this be brought to you,” she explained as she paused at the foot of the bed to curtsey. Iris was breathless, unable to move for fear that Pria might be able to see all that she had just been thinking about. She could still feel heat between her thighs and was almost sure it was written plainly on her face.
When the maid straightened up and looked at her expectantly, Iris realized she was waiting for instruction.
“Please leave it on the end of the bed,” Iris suggested past the lump in her throat. Pria gave a curt nod and did as she was asked before dismissing herself from the room.
Glancing down at the finely constructed watermelon salad, Iris realized one thing, I have to get out of here as soon as possible.
Chapter 6 - Ember
That night the king’s sleep had been fitful yet again. No matter how hard he tried he could not help but think of how he had treated Iris at the dining table. No matter how she had angered him, he should not have played upon her emotions the way he had.
Having dressed earlier than usual, he did not bother to go down to the dining hall for breakfast. Instead, he made his way directly to her bedroom. With every step he took toward her, his heart began to pound harder and faster in his chest until he felt as though it was a caged bird trying to escape his ribcage.
When he came to the hallway that led to her chambers, the guards that had been standing at the main door to her rooms stood up straight and held their spears upright. They were silent as he approached, only bowing when he stopped before them.
“What are you waiting for? Open the door,” he snapped at them. He was in no mood to be kept waiting after such a restless night.
The guard on the left hammered a fist on the door before pushing it open to allow his king to enter. Ember wasted no time striding into the room and was just in time to see Iris wrapping a dressing robe around her small frame. He barely managed to stop himself from smiling at the glimpse of a rosy pink nipple he had seen beneath her sheer nightgown.
“Your Grace!” she exclaimed, dropping down into a low curtsey. Even with her head bowed and her face covered by her hair, Ember could see the way her cheeks blushed at his presence.
“I came to apologize for my abhorrent behavior yesterday at lunch,” he said abruptly. His own cheeks felt hot, knowing that was the closest he had ever come to saying the word, ‘sorry’. “I am not a violent man, but I do demand respect.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Iris responded simply with a brief nod. She had risen to her feet, but remained in a semi-submissive position, her face angled toward the ground and her eyes averted.
What is this woman doing to me? Ember asked when he realized that her lack of argument was enough to infuriate him. There was something about the way she spoke, something about the distance between them, that frustrated him.
“I especially demand respect in front of my court,” he continued. “Can you at least give me that?”
Iris turned her face up to look at him then, and her blue-purple eyes blazed into his as she said, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
There was an edge to her tone that made Ember grit his teeth. Something about the look in her eyes made his toes curl, and not in a good way. He was almost sure that he saw a look of disgust in her gaze.
“What is wrong with you that you feel the need to be so cold toward me?” he demanded, “Why do you treat me so harshly after I have rescued you?”
He was totally unprepared for the amusement that spread across Iris’s face. Small wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes and her hand clasped her stomach as she laughed with such fury that he thought she might fall over.
“You believe that you have rescued me?” she gasped, breathless from such laughter. “My lord, you merely took me from one cage and placed me in another.”
A mixture of frustration and passion boiled deep inside Ember. A part of him wanted to yell at her and demand she take her words back. The other half of him wanted to sweep across the room, take her in his arms and have his way with her. Yet he knew he could do neither. He had already come to apologize for losing his temper once. What good would it do to lose his temper again?
Though he gritted his teeth, he could not stop himself from crossing the room to grip her by her upper arms. Frustration caused him to shake her as he snapped, “I do not believe that you are property.”
Seeing the startlement on her face, Ember took a step away, forcing himself to release her slender arms. Shame engulfed him then. That was the closest he had ever come to striking a woman. He vowed to himself in that moment that he would never allow himself to do any such thing again.
“Would it be so bad if I were your owner?” Ember whispered, wondering out loud.
He hadn’t meant for her to hear, but the way her face fell told him that she clearly had. “I do not wish to belong to anyone until I am free and able to choose who to belong to for myself.”
She straightened up and squared her shoulders, looking brave and beautiful and infuriating all over again.
Ember’s hands tightened into fists and he gritted his teeth, almost baring them at her as though he were a wild animal. “Fine. If that is how you feel, choose.”
“Choose?” she raised one perfectly shaped auburn eyebrow at him, a look of confusion playing across her pale face.
“Yes, choose,” Ember nodded firmly, “Stay here with me and live as though you were a princess, or go out that door and ask my guards to return you to your father.”