The King Loves Novels & Stories

she said, bowing in respect. "What is your deal?" the king rasped. "I don't understand what you mean, your majesty" she responded. "What do you want from Yuka?" "I love him, your majesty. He loves me too. I might sound selfish...but all I want is him, all of him" The king clenched his fists. "Are you saying you don't want his throne?"

He shakes his head and I turn back to watch the TV. "Before I set down as King, there is something that I'd like you all to know and consider. The only reason that I'm stepping down or being forced to step down rather is that my father will not accept that the love of my life is black, a beautiful, intelligent, independent, black woman and I love her. I love Penelope Anne Harding, I have never felt this deeply for anyone. My father would rather define her by her race than by her virtuous qualities, by her morals and values.

I folded my arms, trying to steady myself, heart hammering as his eyes flicked toward me just as the guard stepped back. “Ma’am, let’s go. The boss has arrived,” the guard said, calm but firm. My knees trembled as I lifted my gaze. “Who… who is he? Is he…?” I whispered, dread coiling tight in my chest, when suddenly his height felt strangely familiar. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Evan Grant, our king,” the guard replied. WHAT! This is the evil I’ve been defying? Slowly, I turned toward the car he had stepped out of, the same black shade and model that had vanished into the darkness that night.

“He is the one who can give you the answers that you are looking for.” “The king does not react well when others bring up the topic,” I said. “I am afraid he won’t give me any answers.” “I am sure the king will tell you anything you want to know. He loves you, you are his wife, and he is always trying to please you,” she declared. I snorted at her assertion. “The king does not love me,” I said bitterly. “Our marriage is not like that.” “I can’t believe that!” Sadie exclaimed. “Everyone I have spoken to says the king is madly in love with you.”

“Are you going to marry your true mate? You already imagine yourself having sex with her, it would be thrilling to have her in your bed every night.” “Laura!” The King bellowed, his hands pulled into fists as he dragged his eyes off the lengthy thread. “You are the only one I have ever loved.” Discomfort settled in his throat and his thick brows twitched. “You are the only one for me. I don’t like that girl in the way you think. I never did. I will never like her.”

asked the king. "I know but I did fall in love with her. I love her and I can't let her go," Ragnor explained honestly. "So you know what love is?" the king questioned frowning. "Yes, I do," Ragnor replied with no expression. "Son, tell me, what is love?" the king questioned. "Love is a feeling, you feel you are feeling and you feel something more you have not felt before," Ragnor replied with a frown and the king's face turned into lines and he was livid.

The table is not too far away from mine so I can see him clearly. Right then, his eyes find mine, now staring back at me. The smile on his face is warm and meant just for me. He mouths something I can’t quite catch, but I think it sounded like *I love you.* I mouth it back. *I love you too.* “To my darling wife, Helene,” The King says, interrupting our moment and raising his glass. “To the woman who makes me better every day. Happy birthday once again my love.” “To the Queen!” the crowd echoes back, raising their glasses.

Silence fell hard between us. “Okay?” he repeated, his voice sharp now. “That’s all you have to say?” I finally looked at him. One thing I had learned very quickly about the king was this, he didn’t love me. What he loved was control. Power. Devotion. Women kneeling at his feet, worshipping him like he was some kind of god. And I ruined that fantasy the moment I didn’t care. Every woman before me had wanted him. Needed him. Built their entire identity around being chosen by him.

"And because whatever happens after you should choose Darius with full knowledge and not partial." I looked at him, at the old careful face of a man who had kept promises and secrets in equal measure and was finally laying both down. "Thank you," I said quietly. He nodded once and I stood. Walked to the door. "Lira." I stopped. "He loves you," the King said. "Whatever the beginning was, whatever his reasons were then." A pause. "What he feels now has nothing to do with what this kingdom needs." I looked at the door.

My favorite. I grab the cold can, pop the tab, and take a long sip. The sweet taste grounds me a little. I wander further into the suite and push open the bedroom door. A massive king-sized bed dominates the room, draped in sleek black silk sheets that look cool and slippery under the dim lights.