KING'S HIDDEN PRINCESS

         Sun shattered the darkness in his bedroom, and Kingston groaned as he rolled over, diving back under the covers for another few hours’ sleep. A squeal greeted him, and he shot up in bed, glancing around, his hand slipping beneath his pillow until the other head popped up.

“Oh, King! You’ve been so wicked… I will not walk straight for a week after last night.”

          The black-haired beauty grinned beside him, the sheet pooled around her waist. His hand relaxed, and Kingston left the handgun tucked under his pillow. He forced a grin, even though smiling was the last thing he felt like doing.

“That is the idea, darling,” he pointed out. “But unfortunately, my precious, you need to go and I have to get ready. My new job starts today.”

“Wow… Isn’t this wonderful… And where is this new job? You aren’t working at the nightclubs anymore?”

“Sadly, no, but this one will pay the bills even better,” Kingston replied, knowing the new income would take care of him for quite some time if he could keep the job.

          The nightclubs were easy, being a bouncer on the outside and security on the inside. The deafening music drove other, darker thoughts from his mind, and he could disappear into the massive crowds and forget a past he failed to hide from every damn day.

“Well… I guess I’ll see you around… handsome!”

          The woman whose name he didn’t remember, scooped up her mini dress, threw it on, and, after blowing him a kiss, darted out of his small bedroom. A moment later, the front door opened and closed.

          Last night was his final in this tiny hole-in-the-wall with so many memories of hazy nights and women crying out his name as he gave them all mind-blowing orgasms to make himself feel alive again.

          Too bad it never worked.

          Kingston ‘King’ Rossdale stood and stretched, messing up his jet-black hair, his six-foot-three frame making a shadow on the far wall. As he strode from his room to the bathroom, every muscle in his body rippled, highlighting the tattoos covering his back, stretched around his sides and down his shoulders.

          A skull was situated between his shoulder blades, and from it sprouted trails of raging flames, consuming all in its path. The flames reached around his shoulders, licking at his pecs.

          The point they reached his sides, they changed color, the flames dying down to ashes. Each ash mark was a count and only Kingston knew what the count stood for. He needed that reminder…

          Kingston glared at them in the mirror, his fingers running over each one as he remembered their faces. So many faces that kept torturing him, awake or asleep, if he was lucky enough to catch a few hours of sleep.

          When he wiped a hand down his face, he frowned at the bags under his eyes and the scruff on his cheeks. Every night, he went to bed praying the nightmares wouldn’t come, and every night, when the sleep came, they greeted him in vivid detail.

          His fingers fidgeted against the sink until Kingston gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white. The meds his doctor had given him were supposed to help, but after two months with no changes, he’d stopped taking them.

          Now, he was trying to deal with it on his own and avoid a mental breakdown every time he dreamed of those darker days. Or swore he saw one of those dead faces watching him in the crowd beneath the strobe lights.

          His new job would be in a quieter atmosphere, more controlled, and he wouldn’t be alone. When he was first approached about the job two weeks ago, Kingston had hesitated in taking it.

          Though he was a highly decorated officer, he wasn’t necessarily the right personality for bodyguarding a shut-in princess. He wasn’t the most social person nor the best to be around a member of the Deltoran Royal family, no matter what was said about her.

          But the head of security for the Royal family, Raoul, had assured Kingston that his position wasn’t for social purposes. They needed a man who understood that danger lurked everywhere and would be able to protect the Her Royal Highness regardless of the cost.

          Kingston was that man, and Raoul put all his faith in him and his impressive military background, certain he would do the job as required.

‘Besides,’ Raoul had told him, ‘you’ll live inside the palace, have your own quarters. It will be quiet and you don’t have to speak unless absolutely necessary. I doubt you will even have to pull your gun.’

          He closed his eyes tightly. Never having to touch his gun again would be the ideal situation. Breaking up a fist fight or two at the nightclub had suited him well. However, the time for a change was now, and he was going to take it.

          When his icy blue eyes opened again, Kingston grimaced at the darkness in them as memories threatened to consume him. But not today. He couldn’t deal with that today.

“Keep it together, Rossdale…” he muttered. “New job, new surroundings. Keep your mouth shut, do your job, take the paycheck and get on with your life.”

          After a few years on the job, he’d be living well enough to quit and leave that damn island.

          Maybe forever.

          It should’ve been easy, but Kingston had learned long ago that nothing was ever easy. Not for him. Not in this lifetime.

                                                             *****

          As always, it was too much… As always, no one asked her opinion… Like she was invisible, made of thin air… Like she was a marionette. She hated being there, so exposed, so vulnerable.

          God… So many people… There were always so many people at these damn gatherings, and each one had to talk to the Her Royal Highness, Princess Romaine Eloise of Deltora, make sure she knew they were there before tottering off into the crowd at the foot of the raised platform.

          Princess Romaine, the only remaining child in the Deltoran Royal family, tapped her fingers impatiently on her thigh while attempting to keep a light and cheery grin on her face.

          Today was to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday, and when you were royal, the celebrations started early. She stifled a yawn behind a delicate hand, turning her head to the side in between greeting more people who wanted to see her in all her beautiful glory.

“Romaine,” the Queen, her mother, whispered, leaning over the side of her wonderful golden throne, “try and behave like you are having the time of your life. Stop yawning, stop fidgeting, and stop tapping your thigh…”

“Yes, Mother, I’ll do my best,” Romaine replied.

“Didn’t you have had enough sleep?”

“I did, Mother, but I didn’t sleep very well.”

          Queen Dorothea’s eyebrow furrowed as she laid the back of her hand against Romaine’s cheek. Her eyes, the same light blue as the summer sky, reflected the exact same color in her daughter’s. And just like her daughter, when she grew worried, they darkened.

“I see… Maybe I should call the doctor… This celebration is very important and I don’t want you to come down with something.”

“No need for the doctor. I’m fine, Mother, I promise,” Romaine placated and patted her mother’s hand.

          She tucked a stray light caramel curl fallen from her up-do back behind her ear and waited for her mother to settle back into her seat. Though she knew the Queen watched her, Romaine did her best to ignore it and preserve that smile on her face.

          That was all anyone wanted from their princess, anyway… A smile. A wave to know she was happy and totally satisfied with her life behind these thick walls.

          Now that she was officially of age to succeed her father to the throne of Deltora, Romaine knew what would come next. The years of being groomed for the throne told her life would be different.

          She and her mother greeted several more families from the tiny island kingdom of Deltora, an old kingdom situated between Italy, France, and Spain, left over from a very different time.

          The small but very fiercely trained army fought alongside the nearby countries when called upon to do so. The military was one of the only things their island was really good for. The countries around them grew and expanded with the times, but their island remained small, and Romaine was confined along with it.

“You’re doing it again, Romaine,” Queen Dorothea whispered.

          Romaine frowned and let her hand fall back to her lap.

“I’m sorry, Mother… I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Tugging at one’s ear is not the right behavior for a princess.”

          She might look like her mother with her flawless olive complexion and full cheeks, perfectly shaped lips, and even the small mole on her lower right cheek, but when it came to ruling and being proper all the time, Romaine fell short.

          Always.

          Romaine loved her mother and her father, King Hernando Alixander, but there were times when she simply didn’t want to be there. Especially on a day like today when all she wanted was to be in the water at the beach, soaking up the sun and relaxing in peace, away from the world.

“I think that is enough greeting for now,” Queen Dorothea announced politely with a kind smile and stood.

          Smiling slightly, Romaine rose to her feet as well, biting back the sigh of relief. Everyone in the stone throne room bowed as they walked down the main aisle, out the arched doors, and into the heart of the palace.

          Two men in suits followed closely, and Romaine knew their eyes constantly wandered around the halls for any threat against the Royal family.

“You may have the afternoon to yourself, before the ball,” the Queen told her daughter as they walked.

          Servants bowed and greeted them as they passed, both the queen and the princess nodding and smiling in return.

“Thank you very much, Mother… Still, why do I feel a huge ‘but’ coming on?” Romaine asked.

“Your new security guard will be here today. I would like you to meet him before the festivities. Just to get acquainted.”