Abisai
I extend my hand. When Zabina takes it, I lift her effortlessly onto the horse. She sits in front of me, her back pressed against my chest. I take the reins with one hand and wrap my other arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
My personal guards follow at a discreet distance — far enough to give us privacy, but close enough to protect us. Though I don't need that.
I urge the horse forward, and we begin moving toward the lower city. The wind pushes back Zabina's hood, and I bury my nose in her dark hair, breathing in that scent that drives me wild.
She looks at me over her shoulder with a shy smile that destroys me.
How is it possible to desire a woman this much? Because right now, I want to pull her off this horse, strip her bare, and make love to her until she loses consciousness and can only moan my name.
When we reach the first streets of the city, I carefully adjust her hood, covering her face. We move slowly over the cobblestones.
People step aside as we pass, not recognizing me.
I dismount smoothly and lift her into my arms without asking.
She clings to my neck, surprised.
"I can walk, you know," she protests, half amused.
"But I want to carry you like this," I reply, pressing her a little tighter against my chest.
"You're going to make me spoiled."
I laugh.
"Go ahead, then. Be as spoiled as you want."
She lowers her eyes and makes that little gesture with her lips that makes me addicted to her.
I set her down gently and lift her chin.
"What's wrong?" I ask, noticing the shadow in her gaze.
"Nothing."
She's lying.
"I'll take you to dinner at one of my favorite places. I prefer the commoners' quarter. Nobles are boring — their idea of fun is tea and palace parties like the ones we have. I like this better. I used to come here when life was simpler," I say, looking at her intently. "Then you'll tell me what's wrong."
"But nothing's wrong," she insists.
"Zabina." My voice drops, firm. "Don't lie to me."
She pouts adorably and points behind us at a street stall selling grilled meat skewers.
"Buy me one of those," she says, tugging my arm.
I signal Levin, who approaches and pays for us.
She bites into hers enthusiastically, getting sauce all over her mouth. She's so natural, so alive, I can't stop watching her.
"Do you like it?" I ask, holding back a smile.
"I love it," she replies, mouth full, making a funny face that makes me laugh.
I turn to Levin.
"Buy for everyone. Go have some fun — don't just hover behind me like flies."
"But —"
"No buts," I cut him off. "Find yourselves some women and go fornicate. I can take care of myself. Meet me back here at midnight to return to the castle."
He bows.
I turn to Zabina, who takes my arm and pulls me toward a square where music plays and people dance to the rhythm of drums and flutes.
The city is celebrating until my coronation. Torches light the streets, the air smells of roasted meat, wine, and laughter.
I glance at her. She watches everything with excitement.
"Do you want to dance?" I ask.
"Can we?" she whispers, surprised.
"Of course. I'm an excellent dancer."
"Cocky."
"Just telling the truth. Come on."
We move to the center of the square, where others are already dancing to the clapping and music. She tries to learn the steps with charming clumsiness. I can't take my eyes off her. Every gesture, the sway of her hips, every laugh when she messes up — it's all designed to bind me to her even more.
Yes, I have to admit it.
I'm brutally in love with this woman.
And as I spin her in my arms, feeling her body pressed against mine, I can only think one thing:
No matter the cost.
No matter what comes.
I'm not letting her go.
Ever.
After dancing and burning off energy in the crowd, I take Zabina's arm and lead her decisively out of the square. She follows, amused. I show her a few places and tell her a little about the culture of this part of the city. She listens with genuine interest, as if I were telling her the most fascinating thing in the world.
We enter a discreet inn I know well. I leave some coins on the counter without a word and take her up the wooden stairs, feeling her hand tremble slightly in mine.
As soon as we enter the room, I lock the door.
I grip her waist and pin her against the wall. She smiles, coquettish. I kiss her hungrily, almost angrily, as my hands impatiently work at her clothes.
So many laces. They're driving me mad.
I untie the last one and let the dress fall to the floor. I lift her effortlessly, leaving her suspended between the wall and my body. Her legs wrap around my hips instantly, her warmth blending into mine.
I free her breasts and bite them hard, sucking until she moans loudly.
With one hand I undo my pants and drive into her in one deep thrust, tearing a muffled cry from her.
She's hot, tight, soaked. Her arms cling to my shoulders. Her legs tighten around me as I begin to move — slowly.
When she has her first orgasm and is trembling, gasping my name, I bring my mouth to her ear and bite her earlobe.
"Tell me what's bothering you," I whisper.
She looks at me with pleasure-glazed eyes. I thrust deep, making her close her eyes and moan.
"Talk, Zabina."
"Abisai…"
Our eyes meet.
"I swear to you… it's nothing."
"You're lying."
"Alright… I'll tell you… It's jealousy, Abisai."
I frown. Does she think she can fool me?
"I met Halan and… I'm being an idiot, I know. You're going to be emperor. And I'm nobody — just a girl who got lucky."
Tears run down her cheeks. I know that's not the truth. Zabina isn't jealous, nor does she suffer from insecurity.
I lick her tears away.
"I didn't want to tell you and seem like a possessive, jealous idiot… I'm just… one more in your harem."
I hold her face in my hands.
We look at each other, and I press my forehead to hers.
I kiss her almost angrily, swallowing her words, swallowing my own fury. I hold her tighter and keep moving inside her — deeper, harder — as if I can erase everything she just said with my body.
I carry her to the bed without pulling out. I let her fall onto the mattress and cover her with my body. Her scent clings to my nose — addictive. I keep giving her more, mercilessly, listening to her scream in pleasure and beg me to stop. I don't listen. I keep thrusting until her second orgasm makes her arch beneath me.
Only then do I let go, coming deep inside her.
We stay like that — panting, tangled, drenched in sweat.
Neither of us speaks. I stroke her back for long minutes until I lose track of time.
"Let's go back downstairs. We have to return now," I say, and stand.
I sit for a second and push the hair from my face.
She's lying to me.
Knowing it bothers me. The worst part is the feeling I can't shake — that I'm missing something.
I stand and pick up my clothes.
She gets up and starts fixing herself without looking at me.
"Am I ready?"
I stop in front of her.
"Learn this from me, Zabina," I murmur. "Never lie to me."
"I'm not," she says quietly.
I smile.
"Just a warning, beautiful."
I take her hand and lead her out.