Mated to the Alpha King (A Royal’s Tale Book 1)

Mated to the Alpha King: Chapter 7



“You actually painted him!”

A loud groan escaped my lips as a huge load leaped on me.

“Can’t . . . breathe!” I croaked out and smacked the person on top of me repeatedly.

“Ouch! You hit like a man. Stop it!” Marley shrieked again, this time out of pain, as a pair of hands gripped my frantic ones.

What was she doing?

“God!” I groaned, finally opening my eyes, and gave her half a glare.

She, however, seemed oblivious to my irritation as she squealed when she saw me awake and rushed towards the canvas resting on the easel. The funny thing was that the rest of the paintings had turned out to be too precious to lose, and so they now rested against the wall.

Marley stopped in front of the portrait. I could practically see her mouth hanging open as she stared at the man on the canvas.

I sighed as I got out of bed and made my way over, then came to a halt beside her.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes wide, her mouth—just as I’d predicted—hanging open.

A sad smile graced my lips as I traced his jaw lightly. “Yes, he is,” I agreed softly.

Yes, he is.

Soon Marley’s gaze moved along to the other paintings, and her body swayed slightly with it.

I stood frozen in my place as I watched her stare at each one, piece after piece. It wasn’t only for Bryce, though. I wasn’t that confident about my painting skills. Marley was only the fourth—after Casey, Mom, and Dad—to see my paintings. Others, however, had seen me sketch.

Marley startled me when she suddenly turned to me, and her next words took me by surprise: “It will be fun burning these up once you’re finally over him.”

I smiled, sadly. Oh, Marley . . . if I get over him.

Painting him all night had done nothing but remind me of him.

I sighed. It wasn’t fair.

A startled squeal escaped my lips as I was suddenly pulled towards the bathroom.

“Go get ready, woman! We have school in an hour, and you look like you’ve been through the haunted woods. When did you sleep anyway?”

The door was shut in my face, and I rolled my eyes before I turned around and picked up my toothbrush.

“Five fifteen,” I replied before shoving the brush into my mouth.

Okay, now let’s get those bacteria removed.

After wrapping my fluffy navy-blue towel around my body, I walked out of the bathroom, only to get shoved out of the way by a frantic Marley rushing in.

“God, you bathe as if you had all the time in the world!” she complained, flustered, as she slammed the door shut.

I glanced at the digital clock perched upon my bedside table.

Oh! 8:15 . . . I guess I took more time than usual. Oh well!

I walked into my closet and immediately closed the door. I didn’t need to flash my newfound bestie now, did I? For a second, I wondered what Casey was doing back home.

The second passed, and I let it go. It was an exciting day. The thought of exploring Dovelore Castle had me completely shaking in excitement.

After applying deodorant and body lotion, I slipped into my black undergarments and then put on a brand-new maroon long-sleeved top—courtesy of Mom—and a navy-blue high-waisted, floral skirt.

I quickly willed myself to open the door, just as Marley walked out of the bathroom. She, unlike me, was dressed in black jeans and a white All Time Low sleeveless shirt. She gave me a once-over, causing a little laugh to ripple out of me.

“It’s me.” Smiling, she walked towards me and placed her straightener in my hand. “Straighten it.” She smiled as she quickly picked out her gel eyeliner and, at the first attempt, made a perfect wing.

Damn!

I plugged the straightener in, then ran the brush along my hair before spraying it with a bit of heat protectant.

Finally, after a minute, I clamped a small portion of my hair with the flat iron and pulled the straightener down quickly, leaving behind strands of perfectly straight brown hair, which I knew would turn wavy soon, in only a matter of minutes.

 

***

 

“Don’t you look beautiful!” Matthew exclaimed as Marley and I walked downstairs and into the kitchen.

Marley looked at me as if asking what Matt was doing—eating scrambled eggs and toast in my kitchen.

“Apparently, he lives here during mornings,” I muttered.

We took the hair chairs beside him and helped ourselves to some toast and scrambled eggs.

“Oh, and Mr. and Mrs. A said that they had to run early, and that they left you some cash on the fridge. They will be home by 8,” Matthew informed me before he stole a big gulp of my iced coffee.

Honestly, this boy was never going to learn.

“Paws off my coffee, Jefferson.” I swatted his arm away.

Instantly, he reached for Marley’s instead, and she—no shock here—let him gulp down her coffee happily.

I rolled my eyes at her and made a little heart from my fingers, at which she grimaced.

“Okay, let’s go!” Matthew exclaimed happily. He plopped the last of his toast into his mouth and moved towards the sink, where I was doing the dishes.

I grabbed onto his mug and plate, and quickly scrubbed and rinsed them before placing them aside. Then, I moved towards the refrigerator and got on tiptoe as I picked up the three hundred-dollar bills, and shoved them into my backpack—my month’s allowance.

“Let’s go, guys. A castle awaits!”

 

***

 

Naturally, since this was a school trip, we all had to travel on a bus. So here we were, boarding the bus. I quickly made it to the middle seats and plopped down beside the window. Marley plopped down beside me. But before Matthew could take the seat next to Ley, Rome slumped down on it instead and looked at me with a small smirk on his face.

He had been doing that a lot. It seemed like he was surrounding me. He was literally everywhere—well, everywhere he could be and look normal.

In my head, I had begun calling him Rommy the Bodyguard.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but he simply shrugged and went on to say, “I want the window seat.”

A giggle left Marley’s lips when I cocked an eyebrow up, and his brows furrowed.

“What?” he asked.

Marley giggled again, then she spoke, “You could have just said that you wanted to sit beside Thi.”

Matt, who had now settled on the empty seat in front of ours, turned around and looked at Rome, shocked. They stared at each other silently, their expressions changing slightly from time to time, until Matthew looked at me and smiled softly, his warm brown eyes friendly and compassionate.

What had just happened between the two?

I smiled back at him and turned to Marley, who simply shrugged, then I glanced at Rome, who was now looking expectantly at me.

“You’re not getting the window seat,” I mumbled back, teasing him.

Rome’s eyes narrowed at me before he turned around and looked somewhere else, still looking dead angry.

I sighed.

Typical Roman—it was becoming common now that his temper took a 180-degree turn within seconds. He was just extremely short-tempered, and unnaturally strong. I had, after all, just had my latest experience with it earlier this week. Rome had been over for our “once every two days” bonding session. And after waiting for Bryce for a week and three days, I had begun to see it as what it was. Naturally, I was devastated.

Roman caught on to that, and when he could not endure my bland replies anymore, he grasped my arm, and after informing Mom where it was he wanted to take me, he pushed me into his car and drove off.

I stared as we arrived at Nando’s. Roman hated Nando’s. I kept guessing that was just because he had never tried it.

After he parked into an empty space, he turned to me and smiled, then got out, walked over to my side, opened my door, and got me out by the hand.

We each had a good serve of grilled chicken and peri-peri chips. It’s safe to say that by the end of the night, Roman had fallen in love with Nando’s, and I, well, was smiling again.

We had just walked out when some boys bumped into me, and the next thing I knew was that Roman had exploded and Hulk had emerged from his body. And as for the boys? Well, all the boys were lying on the driveway, groaning in pain, blood dripping out of their open wounds.

I shivered as the image of those bloodied boys flashed before my eyes again. I had called for the ambulance; Roman wouldn’t let me help them anymore.

But it turned out that in those two weeks of waiting, and painting, Romanov had become nicer. He now smiled and even occasionally joked with me. He had become the sort of friend who just didn’t act like a friend all the time. He was too blunt and rude for that anyways.

I shook my head as I smiled, then glanced back at Rome, who still looked pissed off as he gazed at the scenes we drove by.

“I think you should just let him take the seat,” Marley leaned in and whispered into my ear, her voice sounding concerned.

Sighing, I nodded. I really didn’t want to ruin anyone’s day at the castle. Marley smiled softly at me as I leaned in and placed a hand on Rome’s arm. He instantly turned to me, his eyes dark and stormy. I smiled and, tightening my hold on his arm, pulled it lightly towards me.

He got the memo. After glancing at my grip on his arm as I tugged at it once again, he sighed and stood up, then Marley and I shifted as he moved in to sit beside me. I smiled because his mood lightened considerably.

Maybe it was going to be a good day after all.

 

***

 

“Oh my God, it’s beautiful!” Marley exclaimed as I stared in wonder at the marvel we were now driving up to, each second bringing us so much closer to it than we had been.

There it was, the beauty I had stared at for weeks and weaved fairy tales and romances about, the object of my fascination: Dovelore Castle.

Its pristine entryway seemed beautifully carved, looking just as beautiful—if not more—than the castle itself. The castle seemed inviting. Its beauty was now ten times more, with us being so close to it, than when I looked at it from as far as my home.

As the bus slowed and came to a halt, a very elegantly dressed man, who rather looked like he was nearing fifty with his slightly graying hair, walked out and towards us.

“I’m so excited!” I whisper-squealed as I proceeded to move out of the bus in a line with Marley.

“Good morning, all. I am Finley Buckwood, and I will be your tour guide for today. Master Wilhem is very pleased to have you all here on a tour. You may see him by the end of our tour when he announces the name of the scholar and the lucky student who will get to stay here for his or her holidays. Now, let us begin!” He turned and made his way to the entrance of the castle, we students and teachers in tow.

His deep Yorkshire accent was again audible when he spouted some more words: “Dovelore Castle was built by the sixteenth Duke of Devonshire, Alexander Wilhem, in the mid-1800s. The construction was completed in the month of April in 1884. It was built here in America rather than in England, where the duke originally resided, because he needed a place away from the hustle and bustle for his children, Maryen and Alexander, after his wife—Lilian—died in a tragic accident.”

I listened intently as Mr. Buckwood continued to lay out the colorful yet slightly dark history of this castle, all the while staring at each and every piece of furniture set perfectly around the place. The olden taste in things lingered within the walls of the castle, which somehow also seemed very modern. All in all, though, the new duke gave the impression of being a man of great taste.

Suddenly, a hand slipped into mine, and I turned to face Marley. She was looking around in wild wonder, her mouth literally ajar.

“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured excitedly as she turned around to face me, her eyes twinkling. “I am so daydreaming about marrying a prince and living here with him!”

I giggled but immediately quieted down when Mr. Bishop sent a very stern look my way. “Let’s listen to the handsome old man talk,” I whispered to Marley and moved closer to Mr. Bishop, who was now talking about the current owner.

“The current owner, Master Alexander, has been caring for the castle incredibly well since graduating from college a few years ago. His being extremely rich, together with the inheritance he’d obtained from his father, allowed him to make renovations around the whole castle and castle grounds, as well as to have the castle redesigned and made comfortable for this age.

“However, some places in the castle were left untouched in the redesign, like the fifth and sixth floors, the west wing, and the library. We will proceed to the fifth floor and library, but the west wing is out of bounds, so that shall be excluded from our tour,” Mr. Buckwood informed us, his deep voice ringing throughout the hall as he led us into a grand hallway.

I stilled as I felt a pressure on my lower belly, causing Marley to turn around and look at me quizzically.

Shit. I motioned to my skirt, and her eyes widened in realization, a grin finding its way to her face.

I frowned.

Her grin grew wider.

I needed to pee.

Still frowning, I let go of her hand and moved towards Mr. Harway, who was seemingly talking to Diandra. As I neared him, I coughed softly, causing him to glance at me and smile.

“Ah yes, Ms. Anderson. What may I help you with?” His dark-green eyes twinkled as he grinned down at me.

Diandra seemed to have stiffened beside him and was now glaring at me.

What’s up with her?

I shifted on my feet as I fiddled with my hair. God, this was so embarrassing.

“Er . . . Sir, do you know where the washroom is?” I mumbled, then felt my face heat up as a chuckle left his lips. I could practically feel Diandra sneering at me.

“Here.” He handed me a pamphlet. “There’s a map there. It will help you move around. Go on, Ms. Anderson.”

After nodding my thanks, I turned around and glanced at the map, the pressure on my lower belly reminding me of how urgent this was.

 

***

 

“Fuck my life!” I grunted as I stared at the map for the hundredth time. I officially hated maps.

Glancing around the empty hallway, I groaned in frustration. This was no good! I was lost.

I was just about to turn around and retrace my steps when I saw an elderly woman in a plain black dress moving out of a room at the farther end of the hallway, clothes in her hand.

But before I could call out for her, she was gone.

A bedroom! I thought as I walked towards it.

Maybe someone inside could help me?

My bladder was killing me now! I was literally on the verge of twisting my feet to hold the pee in.

Upon reaching the door after a desperate run, I knocked on it urgently. When no one answered, I knocked again—surely there was someone there.

“Who’s there?” a gruff, sleepy voice called out, unmistakably male and irritated.

“Er, sir, if you could please open the door?” I requested pleadingly. This was a matter of life and wet floor!

I stiffened as a deep growl rang through the hallway, its source being the man in the room. Suddenly, the door swung open, and instantly, I started shivering out of fright. This was not good. What if his man threw me out?

Minutes passed, and the man was still silent.

I couldn’t take it anymore; I needed to pee!

“Er . . . could you show me the way to the loo?” I mumbled hurriedly, my eyes still glued to the floor.

The man remained silent.

I couldn’t dare glance at him, but I could feel his eyes on my face.

Finally, he spoke, “Come in. It’s the door on the left.”

Oh, thank God!

Immediately, I rushed into the room. “Thank you!” I called out before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

With the deed done, I pulled up my panties, stumbled over to the handbasin, and turned on the faucet. I looked at myself in the mirror as I washed and dried my hands. My hair seemed to be in place, and so did my face. Smiling in contentment, I nodded at myself in the mirror, then opened the door and walked out.

I glanced around in curiosity as I entered the adjoining room, and I realized it was not a bedroom but an office. My wandering gaze drifted along the shelves to the man who stood staring at me. I suppose I needed to say my thanks.

I stilled, my breath hitched in my throat. Standing there, leaning on the edge of a table, was Bryce.


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