When you are facing a man who looks like he belongs on a billboard rather than a medieval battlefield, it is incredibly difficult to maintain a serious face.
But I managed.
I pulled every ounce of professional composure I had from my past life and let my smirk fade into a cool, impassive mask.
“Let him wait,” I said calmly, taking another slow sip of my chamomile tea.
Kaelen’s left eyebrow twitched.
It was a microscopic movement, but I caught it.
The old Queen Evangeline would have leapt out of bed at the mere mention of Duke Cedric, eager to sign whatever blood-soaked decree he brought her.
“You wish to keep the Duke waiting, Your Majesty?” Kaelen asked, his tone flat, though his silver eyes narrowed with deep calculation.
He was analyzing me.
“Am I the Queen, Kaelen, or is he?” I countered, setting the teacup down on the silver tray with a deliberate clink.
I met his icy glare dead-on.
“He can cool his heels in the grand hall.
Lily!”
The bedroom door immediately creaked open, and the little maid poked her head in, looking terrified but relieved to see both her hands still attached to her arms.
“Y-Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Help me dress.
Something commanding, but simple.
No gaudy jewels today.”
Kaelen didn’t move an inch.
He stood by the doorway like a towering gargoyle made of marble and muscle, watching the entire dressing process with an expression that bordered on absolute bewilderment.
He was used to a queen who demanded an hour of styling, heavy perfumes, and layers of suffocating velvet.
Ten minutes later, I stepped out in a sleek, form-fitting black gown with long sleeves and a high collar, my long white hair braided neatly down my back.
“Lead the way, Sir Kaelen,” I murmured as I brushed past him.
The scent of his leather armor—mixed with notes of cedar wood and cold steel—hit my nose, making my inner monologue sigh.
Seriously, the man should be illegal.
The walk to the grand hall was a masterclass in psychological horror.
Every guard we passed slammed their fists against their chest armor and dropped their heads, refusing to make eye contact.
Servants practically threw themselves into alcoves to avoid my path.
God, the previous owner of this body really was a piece of work.
When the heavy golden doors of the grand hall swung open, the murmuring court fell dead silent.
Standing in the center of the room, looking incredibly smug in a lavish blue doublet, was Duke Cedric.
He had dark, slicked-back hair and a sharp, rodent-like handsome look that instantly made my skin crawl.
He was holding a leather folder packed with parchment.
“Ah, Evangeline, my love,” Cedric purred, completely ignoring royal protocol as he walked right up to the dais of my throne.
“You kept me waiting.
I assume you were resting up for our…
evening plans?”
From behind me, I felt the temperature in the room drop ten degrees.
Kaelen had taken his position at my right hand, his grip tightening imperceptibly on the hilt of his broadsword.
I sat down on the massive obsidian throne, crossing my legs elegantly.
I didn’t smile.
I didn’t blush.
I just stared at Cedric as if he were a particularly annoying bug.
“Hand them over,” I said, extending a pale hand.
Cedric blinked, caught off guard by my cold tone, but quickly recovered his smug grin.
“The execution warrants for the northern village elders.
They refused to pay the winter premium tax.
I’ve already drawn up the orders.
Just sign here, and we can dispose of the trash.”
He laid the documents on my lap.
I glanced down at the names.
Dozens of innocent people, sentenced to death just to line this greedy duke’s pockets and fund the old queen’s luxury.
A heavy, suffocating silence gripped the courtroom.
Everyone was waiting for the pen to hit the paper.
Instead, I gripped the thick parchment in both hands.
And with a slow, loud, deliberate CRACK, I tore the execution warrants clean down the middle.
The entire court gasped.
Someone in the back actually dropped a goblet.
Cedric’s face drained of color, his jaw dropping.
“Evangeline—what are you doing?!”
“It’s Your Majesty to you, Duke Cedric,” I said, my voice echoing off the stone walls like thunder.
I threw the torn pieces of paper right at his expensive boots.
“The northern taxes are frozen for the winter.
Furthermore, effective immediately, you are stripped of your duties as the palace treasury overseer.
Your privileges to my private chambers are permanently revoked.
If I see your face near my quarters again, I won’t just tear up paper—I’ll tear up your titles.”
“Are you mad?!” Cedric snarled, taking an aggressive step toward the throne dais, his hands curling into fists.
“You can’t do this to me!
We agreed—”
He never finished his sentence.
In a blur of black leather and flashing silver, Kaelen moved.
Before Cedric could even register the threat, the heavy steel blade of Kaelen’s broadsword was resting directly against the Duke’s throat, drawing a tiny bead of blood.
Kaelen loomed over him, his silver eyes flashing with a terrifying, bloodthirsty light.
“Take one more step toward the Queen, Duke, and I will separate your head from your shoulders right here.”
Cedric trembled, looking at the lethal knight, then up at me.
Realizing he had completely lost his leverage, he swallowed hard, backed away from the blade, and practically fled the grand hall, his sycophants scrambling after him.
I dismissed the rest of the stunned court, leaving only myself and Kaelen in the massive, quiet room.
I stood up from the throne and walked down the steps, stopping just inches away from my personal guard.
He sheathed his sword, but his body was completely rigid.
The silence between us was heavy, thick with a sudden, pulsing wave of awareness.
“You did well, Kaelen,” I murmured, tilting my head up to look into his eyes.
“I am your guard, Your Majesty,” he replied, his voice strained.
He stepped forward, intentionally invading my personal space, his towering frame casting a massive shadow over me.
He leaned down, his face so close I could feel the heat of his breath against my lips.
“But I must ask…
what is your game?
Yesterday you wanted them dead.
Today you play the savior.
What twisted trap are you setting?”
Instead of backing away from his intimidating posture, I leaned in even closer.
My modern confidence took over, and I let my eyes slowly trace the hard line of his lips before looking back up into his fierce silver stare.
“Maybe I just realized that I’ve been looking at the wrong things, Kaelen,” I whispered, my voice dripping with shameless flirtation.
I reached out, my fingers lightly brushing against the cool leather over his broad chest.
“Why look at corrupt dukes…
when I have the strongest, most breathtaking knight in the realm standing right in front of me?”
Kaelen choked on his breath, his eyes widening in sheer shock.
His chest heaved against my fingers, his disciplined, stoic facade completely shattering for a fraction of a second.
A raw, dark current of pure lust ignited between us, so thick it felt like electricity.
His hand twitched toward my waist, as if he wanted to pull me against him and crush his lips to mine but with a harsh, strangled breath, he forced his military discipline to take over and violently stepped back, bowing tightly.
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual, before turning on his heel and marching out of the hall to secure the perimeter.
I watched him go, a victorious smile playing on my lips.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
An hour later, the sun had fully set, casting the palace gardens into deep shadow.
Kaelen stood near the stone archway of the western wall, his heart still hammering against his ribs from the encounter in the throne room.
He couldn’t get her scent out of his mind.
He couldn’t forget the fearless, intoxicating look in her ruby eyes.