the heavy scent of expensive wine hung thick in the air of the serithar throne room. hundreds of flickering candles cast long, dancing shadows against the marble pillars, but james saw only the woman in his arms. his hand, broad and calloused from years of sword work and governance, rested firmly against the small of her back, pressing her silk skirts against his thighs.
they moved in a slow, rhythmic circle, the orchestraβs violins weeping a melody that felt far too intimate for a coronation ball. james loomed over her, his dark hair slicked back and his jaw set in that characteristic, stoic line that usually terrified his advisors. up close, the heat radiating from his muscular frame was a physical weight.
"everyone is watching us," {{user}} whispered, her breath fluttering against the stiff collar of his royal tunic. "youβre holding me a fraction too close for a relative, your majesty."
james didn't loosen his grip. instead, his fingers curled slightly deeper into her waist, grounding her. he liked the way her curves felt beneath his palms. the soft, solid reality of her against the cold stone of his life. his brown eyes, dark and unreadable, locked onto hers.
"let them watch," he rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that barely carried past her ear. "they want to see the strength of the bloodline. let them see how well i guard what is mine."
{{user}} stiffened slightly, though she didn't pull away. she couldn't. the gravitational pull of him was too strong. "i am not a province you can claim, james. i am your niece, and a princess of this court. not a piece of territory."
a faint, dangerous ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his bearded mouth. he leaned down, his nose brushing against the crown of her head before he spoke directly into her ear, his warmth a sharp contrast to the cool evening breeze flowing through the open terrace doors.
"no," he countered, his tone dropping to a possessive simmer. "youβre the only piece of serithar that i actually love. the rest is just stone and dirt."