His Queen Her King の小説・ストーリー

—she pointed her finger at him like she was pointing out a stain—“is a promise. And unlike you, I keep mine.” Sean turned, red in the face, and gestured for his mom. “Let’s go, Mother. We’ll see you in court.” “Be careful, boy,” the Queen said. “The fire you’re playing with doesn’t just burn. It consumes.” They left in a trail of tension, and just as the door swung shut, the King walked in, blinking as if he’d walked into the wrong house. His eyes widened at the sight of his mistress at the table. The Queen didn’t miss a beat. “Hello, darling. Join us.”

“I was just telling your son the truth about his heritage. About his whore of a mother.” The King’s face went pale. He turned to Isaac, who stood frozen in place, his world crumbling around him. “Isaac—” “Is it true?” Isaac demanded, his voice breaking. “Am I not your son?” The King sighed, suddenly looking much older than his years. He called for a servant, who appeared almost immediately—Isaac realized later that the King must have summoned him before entering the kitchen, perhaps having been alerted to the Queen’s state. “Take Her Majesty to her chambers,” the King instructed. “Stay with her until she falls asleep.”

“There were two thrones.” The First Queen looked at it silently for a moment. “Yes.” I swallowed hard. “Who sat there?” Something painful flickered across her face immediately. “The king.” I frowned slightly. “You had a king?” A strange laugh escaped her then. Small. Bitter. Exhausted. “I had a husband before I had a kingdom.” That hit differently than I expected. Not because of her. Because suddenly I thought about Dominic about what loving someone powerful enough to destroy the world probably looked like from the outside.

They were about to learn what happened when the broken one decided she was done bleeding. “Get out of here,” Liora snapped, rising halfway out of her chair. I finally turned to face her fully. She was still in my seat. My. Seat. I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “I believe you’re in my seat.” Liora blinked. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” My voice was calm, almost bored. “I’m the queen. My place is beside the king. So get your stupid ass out of my seat.” The room sucked in a collective breath.

She walked straight to Devi, her grumpy face a mask of pure, unadulterated spite. She reached out and took his glass, or what was left of it, and set it on the tray of a passing waiter. Then, she leaned in, her lips inches from his ear. "If I'm the Queen," she whispered, her voice a lethal, mean purr, "then I'm the one who decides who lives and who dies. And I've decided that the first head on the chopping block is yours." Devi's hand slammed onto her waist, pulling her flush against him in front of everyone. His obsessive grip was a brand. "I've been waiting for you to try, baby. But remember... a Queen is nothing without her King."

The Queen’s eyes again go red, but this time they seem to burn brightly. “There is no one. Get the hell out of here,” the Queen screams. “My Queen,” The king pats her hand. “He is talking about Quinn.” “Quinn will never be a queen. She is trash. A salve,” the queen is screaming. “Sire, please let me meet this Quinn,” I ignore the queen’s tantrum. “If you let her meet him, I will leave you,” The queen sneers. “Make him forget. Turn him away.”

“I don’t want or need you, I’ll run it without you” “Baby girl, every queen needs her king”, I tell her. “Don’t get it twisted”, she snaps back. “Every king may need his queen, but there isn’t a queen alive that ever really needed her king”! “Ride me for it then”, I challenged. “What do you mean?”, she asks.

“Go spend time with her.” “I have no queen.” “Sure,” I laughed. Suddenly, the king wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close against him. I gasped, shocked, as powerful sparks coursed through my body from his touch. He moved in closer, pointing at me with the hand holding his glass. “You listen to me very well now, little mate,” he began, and I looked up into his intense eyes. “I have only one queen, and that is my mate. She is standing right in front of me.”

The Queen reached down, sliding her hand under her long skirt to slowly remove her lace panties. “In two weeks, the poison will do its work. The King’s heart will simply stop, and it will look like a standard attack.” She smiled with pure malice, parting her legs slowly. “You wanted to own me, Karel. To bring me to my knees. But it seems the power has shifted. I do not need you—you need me.” She commanded him sternly, “On your knees. I hope your tongue does a better job than your brain did planning those failed attacks. Please your Queen.”

I corrected him, and he laughed. "From today until my last breath for me, you are my Queen," he said, looking at me and promising me with his eyes. "But you will always be my Beast," I promised.