Waking on the Edge

ELEANORA'S POV

I pressed my palm against the cool stone wall, lingering just outside the heavy golden doors of the king's chambers. A satisfied smirk tugged at my lips. I had orchestrated Kaelia’s arrival here with deliberate, calculated intent. I knew my son was locked away with Odelia, and I loathed that woman’s suffocating grip on him. Odelia was a cunning witch, spinning webs to trap Draven into making her his queen. I needed to shatter that spell before it took root.

Sending a heavily intoxicated Kaelia straight into his private sanctuary was the perfect strike. Earlier, I had watched from the shadows as Kaelia staggered down the corridor, barely able to keep her footing. Her drunken state only sweetened my plan. I could already picture the shock and fury painting both Draven and Odelia’s faces when the princess crashed their little tryst.

I leaned closer to the wood, straining to catch a scream or the sound of shattered glass.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. I spun around, clutching my chest. Kian stood a few feet away, his small arms crossed.

"Gods, you scared me," I breathed, trying to compose myself.

"Mom, are you eavesdropping on Draven?" Kian asked. His brow arched in a way that mirrored his older brother far too well. For a five-year-old boy, his gaze was unsettlingly sharp.

"Of course not," I lied, forcing a stiff, awkward smile. "Just passing through."

Kian narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced, but he turned and walked down the hall without another word. I let out a long breath, adjusting my gown to reclaim my dignity as the Queen Mother. Throwing one last amused glance at the golden doors, I hurried away, silently cheering for the chaos I had just unleashed.

KAELIA'S POV

A sledgehammer pounded against the inside of my skull. I groaned, my eyelashes fluttering open to a blinding gray light. The first thing that registered was the biting, bitter cold seeping into my bones. The second was the unforgiving hardness pressing against my spine.

I wasn't in a bed. I was lying flat on a marble floor.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, wincing as my stiff joints popped. The morning wind whipped my hair across my face. I was outside. On a balcony.

What the hell? How did I get out here?

My brain felt like mush, soaked in whatever absurd amount of wine I had consumed last night. I couldn't remember a single detail. Was I so drunk that I wandered outside and passed out on a balcony? That made no sense. A servant would have escorted me to a proper guest room.

I dragged myself to my feet, my legs trembling beneath my weight. My entire body ached from the brutal stone.

"Princess!"

I turned to see Mirel sprinting across the room connected to the balcony, her face pale with panic. She practically collided with me.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" Mirel gasped, clutching her chest as she caught her breath. "I asked the staff where you were. They told me you were in the king's room, but when I came looking, I couldn't find you!"

I rubbed my pounding temples. "Wait. Did you just say the king's room?"

"Yes." Mirel nodded, a knowing smirk suddenly replacing her panic. "A servant told me he escorted you to the king's chambers last night per the Queen Mother's direct orders. He said you and the king are supposed to be sharing a room from now on."

I stared at her, the gears in my hungover brain slowly grinding together. If they brought me to his room, how the hell did I wake up freezing on the balcony?

Mirel’s smirk faded as she took in my shivering frame. "Princess, are you okay? Why were you sleeping out here when there’s a giant bed inside?"

Fury ignited in my chest, burning away the morning chill. "I don't know," I gritted out. But I had a damn good guess. The arrogant king had literally thrown me out of his room like a sack of garbage.

"Can you find me something for this headache?" I asked, my voice tight with rising anger.

"Right away," Mirel said, turning on her heel and hurrying out.

I took a deep breath, the cold air fueling the fire in my veins. I followed her path out of the suite and into the grand hallways. I needed fresh clothes. I needed my things.

A group of maids paused their duties as I approached, their heads snapping down in immediate bows.

"Your Highness," they echoed in unison.

"Please, can you tell me where my things were moved?" I asked the closest maid.

The girl’s head shot up, her eyes wide with shock. The others mirrored her expression. It was just the word 'please', but they looked at me as if I had spoken in tongues. Royalty here clearly treated them like dirt.

"Your belongings are in the king's room, Your Highness," she murmured, quickly dropping her gaze back to the floor.

"You don't have to keep bowing," I said softly. "Look at me when we speak."

"We are sorry, Your Highness, but we cannot do that," the girl whispered, her hands trembling. "You are a princess. We are just servants."

"You might be servants, but you are human beings, same as me." I offered a warm, genuine smile. "I want you to treat me not just as your future queen, but as a friend."

A stunned silence washed over the corridor. The maids exchanged bewildered glances before a collective, subtle relaxation eased their tense shoulders.

"Can you please show me the way back to the king's room?" I asked the same girl.

She nodded, a faint smile breaking through her fear. "Right this way, Your Highness."

"What's your name?" I asked as I walked beside her.

"Bria. My name is Bria."

"It's really nice to meet you, Bria."

As we walked, my mind raced. Staying in the devil's room? Sharing his space? No way. I was going to march in there, grab my things, and demand another room. I refused to let him treat me like a stray dog.

"Princess," Bria called out softly, pulling me from my murderous thoughts. I turned to her. "You are very different from the other royals. We all thought you were going to be cruel and wicked, but you aren't like that at all."

I chuckled, a real sound despite my raging headache. "Thank you, Bria."

She stopped and pointed to a massive set of double doors engraved with gold. "This is the king's room."

Looking at those doors, a fragmented memory flashed in my mind—stumbling through this exact frame last night.

I didn't bother knocking. I didn't wait for the two heavily armed guards to announce me. I shoved the heavy golden doors open and barged straight in, ready for a war.

I froze.

Draven stood in the center of the massive room. He had just stepped out of the bath. A single white towel hung dangerously low on his hips, clinging to the hard, sharp lines of his V-cut. Water dripped from the ends of his dark hair, tracing paths down his broad chest, sliding over the intricate black tattoos that wrapped around his sculpted muscles. His physical presence hit me like a blow. The sheer size of him, the raw, masculine power radiating from his bare skin, paralyzed me for a split second.

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes up to his face.

He was smirking. That infuriating, arrogant, knowing smirk.

The moment our eyes locked, the fog in my brain snapped away. The memories of last night crashed over me like a tidal wave. Stumbling into the room. The tangled naked limbs on the mattress. The woman beneath him. I had interrupted his sex session.

And in retaliation, this massive jerk had dragged my unconscious body outside and dumped me on the freezing balcony floor.

I glared at him, my hands balling into tight fists at my sides. I wanted to close the distance between us and punch that smug look right off his dangerously handsome face.

DRAVEN'S POV

The anger from last night had simmered into a cold, calculating irritation. I had stood over the bed, watching Kaelia sleep in the very spot I was about to fuck Odelia. The princess looked oblivious to the fact that she had just ruined my night and insulted my pride to my face.

I wasn't about to let her sleep comfortably on my silk sheets.

I had leaned down and scooped her up. She was surprisingly light in my arms, her head lolling against my chest. I carried her past the sitting area, pushing the glass doors open, and stepped out into the biting night air.

I dropped her onto the hard stone floor of the balcony. She didn't even stir. Just curled into a small ball, dead to the world. I stood there staring down at her small frame for a long moment, making a silent promise. When she woke up shivering and aching, she would learn her first lesson: she did not belong in my space. She did not get to disrupt my life without consequence.

Now, I stepped out of the steaming bath water, wrapping a towel tight around my waist. Drops of water trailed down my neck and chest.

The golden doors burst open.

Kaelia stormed in. The princess clearly had a reckless habit of barging into my private quarters.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Her furious gaze swept over my bare chest, tracing the water dripping down my torso before snapping up to my face. For a second, she looked lost, paralyzed by the sight of me. But the shock faded fast, replaced by a glaring, burning rage. Her chest heaved, her hands curled into fists. The memory of waking up on the freezing stone must have finally clicked.

Her anger was thick and palpable, filling the massive room. It amused me. The physical tension sparking between us was undeniable, a sudden clash of defiance against authority. I didn't care about her outrage. I thrived on it.

I tilted my head, letting a sharp, dark smirk pull at my lips. The game was officially on.

"Did you sleep well, Princess?" I asked.