Summary: Left frustrated by her steamy encounter with Bertrand, Beatrix meets with King Liam in her bedroom during the ball.
“Beatrix!” Maxwell swooped in, all smiles and champagne, to check in on his favourite girl. “Why so glum? Come dance with me?”
She tried and failed to fake a smile for him. “I’m sorry, Max. I’m not feeling it tonight. I’m just gonna hold down this corner for the night, OK?”
His face fell. “Is something wrong, Beatrix?” He found Liam in the crowd, standing next to Madeleine. She was laughing and holding onto his arm possessively. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry…”
“It’s quite alright Maxwell,” Bertrand cut in, appearing suddenly behind him. “You keep mingling and showing the guests a good time. I’ll try to lift Lady Beatrix’s spirits.”
“Lift my spirits, eh?” Beatrix repeated as Maxwell disappeared back into the crowd. “How do you intend to do that?”
He leaned in closer to whisper to her. “By reminding you that your task here is to captivate the King and the other nobles of court, not to pout in a corner like a petulant child.”
“Ah, the famous Bertrand pep talk. Thank you for the wonderful advice, Your Grace.” She downed the rest of her drink in one swallow and turned to leave, pausing briefly to look back to him. “Is this really what you want? For me to go seduce the King in your house?”
He stepped closer to her again, his voice low and angry. “I don’t care what you do, Beatrix, as long as it results in a proposal.”
“Fine,” she seethed, “just checking.”
“Thank you for coming,” Beatrix said as she opened the door to her bedroom, avoiding his eyes.
“Of course,” Liam answered, closing the door softly behind him. “I’m always thrilled to sneak away from a ball with you, Beatrix, but it seems that’s not exactly what you have in mind tonight.”
She sat on the edge of her bed and motioned for him to join her. “Liam…we need to have a conversation, and I don’t feel I can put it off any longer.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?” He reached tentatively for her hand, and she offered it to him, letting him run his thumb over her knuckles tenderly. It felt so good that she immediately regretted it.
She took a deep breath and blurted it out. “Liam, I’ve been seeing someone else.”
“Oh!” he dropped her hand abruptly, standing up from the bed like it was made of hot lava. “That’s…I’m sorry, Beatrix, that’s…I’m a bit surprised.”
“I mean…you are engaged, after all, Liam.”
“Yes, of course. I just…I thought we…”
Beatrix frowned, guilt settling into the pit in her stomach and making her feel sick. “Yes, of course, I know you were still hoping to…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. “That’s why I needed to tell you. I’m so sorry.”
He sat back down, this time in the chair by her vanity rather than next to her on the bed. “I suppose I should have expected this. A beautiful, eligible woman at court…how could anyone resist you? How could I ask you to stay faithful to me when I’m engaged to marry someone else?”
Beatrix resisted the urge to take his hand again. She didn’t know what to say. “Liam…I care about you. I hope you and Madeleine can –”
“What? Oh, no, Beatrix, I’m not marrying Madeleine.”
“I…what?”
“I can’t marry her. This was always a temporary situation while we figured out how and why you were being targeted. I still intend to break off our engagement as soon as we locate Tariq and get to the bottom of this.”
“But you can’t just end your engagement. You told me yourself; now that you’re king, you need to have a queen.”
“It can still be you, Beatrix. We can work this out. It’s not ideal, but…”
She jumped to her feet, agitated. “Liam, what are you talking about?”
He looked stunned again. “I just meant, we could still be married. As long as you’re discreet, that is. Or were you…are you breaking up with me?”
She stared at him in surprise, remembering Bertrand’s words. As long as it results in a proposal…
“I don’t know, Liam,” she confessed. “I need some time to think.”
He moved back to the bed, sitting so close to her that she couldn’t help but lean against him. “Beatrix, I don’t want to lose you. Whatever that means for us. I want you by my side, as my queen.” His hand slid up her back, his touch electric even through the fabric of her dress. He grinned. “I remember this dress. You were wearing it the first time I saw you at the palace.” One hand stayed on her back as his other grabbed a handful of the soft blue fabric of her skirt, rubbing it between his fingers.
“And the night of your coronation,” she added.
“The night that –”
“– you got engaged to another woman,” Beatrix finished for him.
He frowned, looking up at her face. “I was going to say, the night I told you I loved you. And we made love for the first time.”
“And then you got engaged to another woman.”
“I didn’t come here to fight with you, Beatrix.” They sat in awkward silence, him still fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. After a long moment he finally spoke up, softly. “Who is it?”
She knew this was coming, but had dared to hope he would leave it alone. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.
“It matters, Beatrix. I need to know, or else I’ll…I’ll suspect everyone. I’ll drive myself crazy wondering who it is.”
She stared at her feet, considering. He did have a point; she’d hate for suspicion to drive a wedge between him and any of his friends. “Bertrand,” she whispered, almost too quietly for him to hear.
“B-Bertrand? Bertrand Beaumont?”
“The one and only,” she answered spitefully, not appreciating his disbelief.
“I’m sorry, that’s just surprising. I thought he was more like a brother to you. I guess I never saw him as competition, but now that you mention it…”
She just nodded, letting him make the connections himself. All the time spent alone together. All the lessons in courtly etiquette, the late night preparations for social events. Even grumpy, serious Bertrand Beaumont could only be tempted for so long before he gave in.
“We should get back to the ball. Wouldn’t want to upset your fiancée.” Beatrix stood, waiting for Liam to follow suit. He stayed on the bed, looking thoughtful. “Liam…”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and resting his head against her stomach. “I want to marry you,” he murmured against her, closing his eyes. “Please don’t give up on us yet, OK?”
She ran her fingers through his soft black hair, her heart breaking for him. Marrying this gorgeous king would be a fairy tale come true, but she felt betrayed by her own feelings, drawing her to another man. She was relieved when he released her and stood to leave.
“Good night, Lady Beatrix.” He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips as he left without her.
“What on earth did you do? I just passed the king in the hallway and he looked absolutely miserable.”
Beatrix sighed, wrapping her arms around Bertrand and leaning into him. “We had an important discussion about our future. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”
Bertrand held her out at arm’s length, studying her face. “Your future? What did you say to him?”
She frowned. “Can we not do this right now?”
“Beatrix, tell me what you said to him.”
She bit her lip and looked at the ground, avoiding his gaze. “I told him about us. That I was falling for somebody else.”
“You what? You said you were falling for somebody? Are you insane?” He looked on in horror as tears started to fall well up in Beatrix’s eyes. “Stop, stop, don’t do that. Come now. We can still fix this. I’ll find King Liam and tell him this was all just a misunderstanding, something about your dry American humour…”
“Bertrand, stop. He still wants to marry me.”
“Oh, thank god. What are you blubbering about, then? As foolish as your actions have been, the outcome seems quite favourable. I suspected he would be willing to look the other way over a small affair but I didn’t intend to rub it in his face, as it were.”
“I am not blubbering,” she sniffled. “Damn you, Bertrand, how can you be so cold about all of this? I just told the king of Cordonia that I can’t love him because my heart belongs to someone else, and you think this is just ‘a small affair’ to me?”
Before he could answer she’d shoved him hard in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards onto the bed. She jumped up onto the bed herself and swung her leg over him to straddle his chest, sitting tall over her even as tears still dried on her cheeks. “Maybe when I’m queen, you’ll finally treat me with the respect I deserve,” she growled, looking down on him.
“Stupid girl,” he seethed, ignoring her position of dominance. “You’ll never be queen if you continue to disobey me.”
With a small shift of her body weight, she went from straddling him to planting a knee squarely onto his chest, letting her weight crush him just enough to make him start to panic. “What the hell did you just call me, Bertrand?”
His eyes went wide at the sharp pain in his ribs. “My apologies, Your Majesty,” he wheezed, grabbing at her hips to roll her off of him. She resisted, keeping him pinned.
“And?”
“And…?” He stared up at her, at a loss. Tears were starting to streak down her face once again, and he felt a sharp tug in his chest, unrelated to her knee pressing down on him. “And I love you, Beatrix.”
She rolled off of him and stood back up, straightening her dress. Tears kept falling silently as she tried to compose herself, not wanting to show him her weakness.
Bertrand got up and took a few tentative steps towards her, until he was breathing down her neck. His hands found her waist and he pulled her close against his body, burying his face in the soft skin of her neck. “Beatrix,” he moaned, inhaling her sweet scent.
She spun in his arms, capturing his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. His hands wrapped around her hair, gathering the soft waves and tugging at it gently, teasing her. They broke apart and undressed themselves quickly, coming together immediately once they had shed their clothes.
Beatrix gladly let him take control again, relishing the feeling of being helpless under him. He was silent and focused this time, not bothering with his usual games. His length pressed against her thigh as his hand roughly explored between her legs, grinding the heel of his palm against her as his fingers curled inside of her. She bit back her moans as his mouth found her breast, sucking and biting at her nipple hard enough to make her gasp.
Grinding against his hand in delicious agony, Beatrix grabbed Bertrand’s face with both of her hands and pulled him up to look her in the eye. “Fuck me, Duke Ramsford,” she begged, pulling his lips to hers. He wordlessly obliged, pulling his hand away and shifting to thrust into her, not breaking her kiss until she threw her head back, moaning his name.
It was only a few minutes before Beatrix came completely undone, clawing at Bertrand’s back as she writhed beneath him in ecstasy. He finished in the same moment, her name on his lips as he shuddered and collapsed next to her, a wave of relaxation washing over his tense body. He was drifting peacefully off to sleep when a knock at the door startled him awake.
“Beatrix!” Maxwell called through the door, sounding frantic. “Bea, answer the door! I can’t find Bertrand anywhere!”