Praise Me: Princess (Praise Me Daily)
Praise Me: Princess: Chapter 12

The journey to Quilton is short. Too short.

We travel west in a convoy of SUVs and I don’t have a single free second to communicate with Conrad, which puts me in a state of distress by the time we reach Quilton Palace. He guards me closely, but his expression is closed off, distant. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I suspect he’s reached the same conclusion as me.

There is no way out of this.

I have to marry the prince to save Leidenstein.

There will be no running away from this responsibility. Maybe I was silly to believe I could shirk my duties as princess and wed for love. Maybe my happiness was always going to come second to the safety of the kingdom and I was unwilling to accept it.

I have no choice but to accept it now.

The Quilton palace is in the middle of a bustling metropolis, unlike Leidenstein. Their local law enforcement closes down the streets and we travel through the maze of buildings with a police escort, my mother tense in the seat in front of me. Before we left Leidenstein, I was besieged by stylists and cosmetologists, my hair fashioned in tumbling curls and topped with a tiara, my gown a simple and respectful dove gray, the material soft against my crossed bare thighs that are sensitive due to Conrad sitting so close to me. And he moves even closer as we cross deeper into the city, his arm flexed behind me on the seat, his body shielding me protectively, eyes scanning the streets outside for threats.

I look up at him and try to communicate something, anything. That I love him no matter what happens. That I’m sorry we won’t be able to run away together. That I’m scared. That I wish we were alone so our bodies could be joined one last time before I’m betrothed to another man. He only makes eye contact with me for the briefest of moments, but the utter madness there sends an arctic chill down my spine.

I face forward again, my heart pounding with extreme trepidation.

This day will not end well.

As soon as we arrive, we are heralded by trumpets, then ushered inside by a group of staff in impeccable suits. Conrad does not leave his post beside me, his hand, as always, reassuring and protective on the small of my back. We’re brought to a room with a long table that hails from a bygone century that sits in a room gilded with gold fixtures, frescos adorning the walls, a harpist playing gently in the corner.

The prince walks into the room without preamble and everything inside of me shrinks, revulsion roiling in my belly. He’s not repulsive by any means. In fact, he’s perfectly ordinary looking, a similar age to me, his smile somewhat blithe. He’s inoffensive at first glance. Harmless. But he’s not the commander who is currently gripping the back of my chair so tightly, the wood groans in his fist.

Everyone, save the queen, stands to welcome the prince, and after a swift bow to my mother, he approaches me with widening eyes.

“Princess Greta.” Kristof reaches for my hand, and I have no option but to give it, allowing him to kiss the air above my knuckles. “Your beauty was greatly underexaggerated it seems. I’m humbled at the sight of such…magnificence.”

It is not customary or appropriate to kiss my hand twice. Nonetheless, the prince bends down once more with his eyes glued to my face and this time, his lips actually make contact with my knuckles. But only for the briefest of seconds, because Conrad hauls me back, his arm banded around my midsection, his chest vibrating at my back.

“You will follow etiquette to the letter with my princess,” Conrad bites off.

The whole room goes silent. Still as death.

I’m preparing to plead for Conrad’s life to be spared when the prince shocks everyone by tossing back his head and laughing. “I believe I’ve just been scolded by a guard. How very humorous.”

Okay, now he’s repulsive.

“He’s a decorated commander,” I say. “A hero. He will be treated as such.”

Kristof sobers. “Quite right, Princess Greta.” The prince studies the man looming behind me, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and I can only imagine the forbidding expression on Conrad’s face. “His devotion to you is obvious.”

“Good,” Conrad grits out.

The prince opens his mouth to further address the situation with my bodyguard, but the queen interrupts. “I do believe it’s time to discuss an alliance between our two countries through marriage. Will the king, your father, be joining us?”

“No,” says the prince succinctly. “He has taken a turn for the worse, unfortunately. But no matter.” He sniffs, swaggering his way to the head of the table and falling into the ornate chair waiting for him. “I’m more than equipped to discuss the matter of my own matrimony.”

“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Queen Ingrid says smoothly, folding her hands. “Unfortunately, time is a luxury we do not have.”

“So I hear.” The prince doesn’t bother to hide the lust on his face when he looks at me, and I have to bite down on the impulse to turn and throw myself into Conrad’s arms. “I don’t need time to recognize what I want. If there are no objections, I will wed the princess tomorrow. The sooner we get working on an heir—”

“I object.”

Those two words from Conrad freeze my blood. “Conrad, no,” I whisper, turning around and replaceing nothing short of murder in his eyes. Directed at the prince.

“Send me north, Queen,” Conrad says, his chest hollowing and lifting with passion. “When I left my command, we were on the verge of extinguishing the uprising. There is a breakdown in command now, but I can reestablish the upper hand. Send me back. I will have the situation under control within a month.” He closes his eyes. “Please. She deserves better than this.”

“Hey,” whines the prince.

“Interesting.” The queen appears thoughtful, yet serious as she observes me and Conrad. “Does she deserve…you perhaps, Commander?”

“No. She deserves far better,” he rasps.

“There is no one better!” I shout.

And then I kick over a chair.

I don’t know what happens inside of me, but I shed my usual demure demeanor, and I pick up a glass of water and throw it at the nearest wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces, satisfaction blooming like a rose in my chest. “I’ll decide what I deserve!”

“I’d like to marry her even more now,” remarks Kristof with a weird giggle.

“You’d be wise to shut the fuck up,” growls Conrad.

A collective gasp from the palace staff. “You can’t speak to a prince like that!”

“I serve only Princess Greta.” Conrad’s fingers brush mine and it’s the only encouragement I need to smash my face between his pecs and wrap my arms around his thick waist. And if the staffers were gasping before, they’re on the verge of fainting now. It has been several hours since I’ve had physical contact with the commander, so when he runs a hand down my hair, I whimper and snuggle closer, my whole body tingling. “I will serve her the rest of my days if you allow it, Queen. Hell, maybe even if you don’t.”

“But you’ve just volunteered to be sent back to the front lines, Commander?” Ingrid says quietly, calmly. “There is no guarantee you’ll return.”

While I despair over the possibility that my love could be harmed in battle, he bands an arm across my shoulders, kissing my temple hard. “If I die, I will return from the dead to be with her. Six feet of soil and a wooden box couldn’t stop me.”

“People from Leidenstein are strange,” whispers the prince.

I look back over my shoulder and see my mother appears indecisive…but not surprised. “You knew about us?”

“The walls of the palace tend to echo, and you haven’t exactly been quiet in the evenings. Or mornings. Or afternoons.” She gives us a dry look. “I must say, Commander, I approve of the way my daughter has flourished in your presence. Never did I expect to see her kick a chair. Or shatter a glass, let alone leave the palace with such confidence. She is braver now than before you arrived.”

“She has always been brave,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “She just needed the safety to let it show.”

Ingrid hums, studying us. “I replace myself disinclined to wed my daughter to a prince who is clearly lacking in maturity…”

“Hey!”

“You are positive that you can turn the tide up north?”

“I will exhaust myself in the service of Leidenstein, Queen.”

She sighs. “Very well.”

Conrad releases a rocky exhale, relief washing over his features.

I am far from relieved, however.

“No,” I whisper, holding him tighter. “You’ve served enough. You shouldn’t have to go back and give more of your time. Your life.”

“I am gaining a life by going back, Princess. A life with you.”

“Please, no. No. I can’t stand it,” I whisper shakily. “I don’t want you in harm’s way.”

Conrad scoops me up into his arms. “I will leave for the front lines in an hour, Queen. Right now, the princess needs to be reassured.”

With that, the commander turns and marches out of the room.

“Oh sure, just use any available guest suites,” complains Kristof with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Well, this certainly didn’t go as planned.”

No, it didn’t.

It went much, much worse, if you ask me.

Conrad disagrees. Vehemently.

And as he closes us in a dark room at the end of a long, marble-floored corridor, my body pressed back roughly to the door, his feasting mouth tells me exactly how much.