When my eyes fluttered, my face smooshed into the pillow, my heart leapt.

Him.

The man I'd brought to my chambers after the coronation, and who'd been spending days trying to please me. Well, succeeding, as far as he was aware; I wouldn't dare tell him he barely hit the mark.

Nor would I tell him I imagined someone else as he fucked me.

Not a bad looking man, I'd admit. The same dark curls and dark eyes as Teodric, perhaps a smidgen taller, a more muscular build. He was a soldier, after all; one of the prized men who'd been hired to protect the queen's family.

And oh, he protected me, all right. He not only guarded my door; he locked it, venturing beyond it. He ensured my bed was made after ruffling through my sheets. And at night, his body covered mine, shielding me from outside threats, but threatening to make me come undone at the seams as he entered my periphery.

The sex was, while not entirely satisfying, quite pleasurable. I wouldn't complain, as it helped me calm down and not focus on the problematic things that plagued me.

Teodric is marrying Ysac.

The soldier lay next to me, his chiseled chest exposed, rising and falling with deep breaths. At least he didn't snore. For all I knew, Teodric snored, and that'd be a problem for us.

I spent hours on end trying to find flaws for him, reasons for me to lose interest.

But it never worked. Every time, my subconscious convinced me I was wrong, and Teodric was perfect. Elegant. The best and only match for me.

This soldier sufficed for now, doing what I needed; but it was Teodric I wanted in my bed, Teodric's cock I needed to slice into me and pound me until I screamed. And it was Teodric I thought of when the soldier spread my legs and whisked his wet tongue into my center.

A few times I'd peered down at his mop of hair, his face concealed as he devoured me. It almost looked like Teodric was there instead, and so I further imagined that. I envisioned he was the one whose tongue made my legs shake, whose fingers deftly twirled around my most sensitive spot and made my heart race a million miles a minute.

But then the man would look up, gauging me, checking that he was doing his work properly; and the spell would break. I'd have to close my eyes again and put Teodric in his place, imagine him sliding up to lick at my nipples and set his mouth on mine as he shoved his cock into me.

Then I'd come. And repeat the same process once the soldier's cock breached my entrance. He was large, which helped lay the groundwork for my naughty thoughts of Teodric. And I'd admit, the man did know what he was doing.

His only fault was not being Teodric. Not being as handsome or well-spoken, not being the foreign prince that I craved to hold, to embrace, to kiss, to love.

And this was the best I could do to not crumble.

The soldier kept me distracted enough to not roam the halls in search of Teodric. The soreness of my legs after our sexual interactions made it so I had no energy to run about figuring out how to trap the poor prince, how to lure him to his demise. Me.

Quietly, I rose from the bed and wrapped my silk nightgown around my nakedness but didn't close it. I meandered to one of my numerous mirrors and admired myself, the softness of my curvaceous body, the roundness of my gorgeous breasts.

My fingers crept down to my crevice, still slightly wet from last night's adventures.

The urge to touch myself then and there, while watching myself, was tempting. I knew my best spots—though the soldier had come closer than most to pleasuring them—and how to climax immediately, with the right thought in mind.

A thought of Teodric.

He was slithering into my chambers, coming up to remove my robe. It was my imagination, but I could actually feel the fabric sliding off me, down my arms, pooling at my feet. I could feel his fingertips as he stood behind me, tingling my nipples as one hand wandered down to my center.

No delaying, no playing around; he slid his finger right into my wetness, testing it, teasing it. I moaned as I felt the desire jolting up my spine. My legs shook as he found my sensitive zone at once, proceeding to rub at it, each motion making me salivate for more.

I opened my eyes—didn't even realize I'd closed them—and sure enough, I was the one rubbing my center. The single image of Teodric showing up had me touching myself without even noticing. I smiled, then tugged my lower lip between my teeth as I widened my legs slightly, propping one foot up on a nearby chair for a better view.

Ah, there she was. My delicious center, open for my own viewing pleasure. So drenched, so swollen with delight as I continued to flick at her, lather her in attention.

I arched my spine and tipped my head back to continue my fantasy of Teodric being the one doing this in my place. Now he walked around me and lowered to his knees to get his head between my legs. His tongue replaced his fingers, diving into me, sending sparks of bliss up and down my body.

I was close, so close. A few more flicks, and then I'd—

"Highness?"

The croaked voice shattered the pulsations of my center. His voice; not Teodric's.

I whirled around, not removing my finger from where I'd lodged it, deep in my arousal. "Yes?"

When he saw what I was doing, I expected him to scowl or be offended. But instead, I found the sheets shifting, a bulge forming where his naked lower half hid underneath.

Oh...was he turned on by my personal pleasure?

That was a nice turn of events.

His gaze focused on my fingers as I resumed their movement. "Good morning," I said, my words sticky, enticing.

He gulped. "Can I...help with anything?" The way his lips twitched to smile made my breasts swell, my nipples perking up with need.

As he slipped his hand beneath the covers to stroke himself, I shook my head. "Oh no; you don't get to reciprocate the pleasure for yourself. You," I propped one foot on the bed, ensuring he had an enhanced view of my inner lips, "only get to watch."

"Highness," he said with a nod, eyes widening as he zeroed in on my arousal.

I moaned, my legs quaking as I enjoyed this new development. As I realized that this man—a poor copy of the one I truly wanted—would bend over backwards to please me. Even if that meant postponing his own explosion to admire me with mine.

The more I thought of it, the closer I got to my climax. And it'd be a heated, heavy climax, for sure.

He licked his lips, and I saw his cock twitch again under the covers. I did wish it were in me, thrusting, causing that delicious friction; but my fingers knew what to do, how to get me where I needed to go.

And they did.

I released a breathy moan, my body raking with convulsions as I came. I heard his breaths, heavy and wanting, as he ogled my juices coating my finger.

In a final moment of delectable defiance, I drew my fingers to my mouth and licked myself off them. "Hmm," I said, eyes rolling back, "how scrumptious."

He couldn't move, though I knew he wanted to nod in agreement. It'd been torture for him, to see me enjoying myself without his aid.

But it'd been absolute satisfaction for me. And I was all that mattered.

I knew my cruelty had no bounds, but now I cringed as I fastened my robe and turned away from him. "You may go."

He scoffed. "But Highness, what about—"

I pivoted to find him pawing at his erection, a saddened look on his face.

"No," I said, snapping at him, then at the door. "You can take care of yourself in your own quarters. I have a date with my sister and need to get ready."

He knew better than to push; if he wanted a place in my bed again, he'd exit the room and leave me to my affairs. This was all he was good for, after all; a fun time to take my mind off more serious matters.

Such as determining how to make Teodric mine.

After throwing his clothes on, he sulked out, granting me a half-hearted curtsy on his way.

I dressed as well, decked myself in jewelry, stacked my hair high atop my head, and set out to meet Tilda. Because I hadn't lied about that part; we did have a standing breakfast date, and I wouldn't be late for it.

But she'd arrived early. I located her at the royal table in the dining room, already halfway through a cup of tea.

"Sister," she said, with a polite nod as I joined her.

Plates and mugs and cutlery appeared before me like by magic, and next I knew, I had an entire spread of food and beverages to choose from.

Such a luxury living as a princess.

I thanked the serving staff and plucked a steaming cup of fragrant tea from my options. "Sister," I said to Tilda, inclining my head.

"You look flustered," she said, peering up at me, holding her cup to her mouth. "Spend the morning touching yourself thinking of Teodric again?"

I choked on my tea, nearly spitting it all over the hart fruit in a bowl of cream in front of me. "What?"

One time, one time I'd made the mistake of telling my sibling that I often masturbated to the idea of Teodric, and now she'd use that against me? In public, no less?

"I'm right," she said, one eyebrow arching as she set her cup down. "You're truly still doing that?"

I grimaced at her and cupped a hand around my mouth. "I'm sleeping with a soldier, okay? That's why I'm flustered. I just kicked him out of my room." I feigned a smirk, hoping she'd think I was bashful and proud all at once.

But her expression didn't change; she continued to scrutinize me. "And while I believe that, I know you're still thinking of Teodric. Probably at the same time as this soldier was screwing you, hm?"

"Tilda!" I tapped her hand, my face growing hot. "Don't speak like that out here!"

"No one is here," she said, gesturing to the mostly empty dining room. It was early enough that no one had quite gathered the energy to come downstairs yet. "And we need to speak about this. Now is better than never."

I huffed and sat back in my seat, crossing my arms. "I've lost my appetite."

"And I don't care." Tilda's gaze narrowed on me. "What's really the issue here, Astrida? Why won't you move on from him? You could get anyone you desire, male or female, but you continue to be obsessed over a man who will never want you."

"Ouch," I said with a hiss, my nose in the air. "That stings."

"The truth hurts, sister dearest." Tilda took a biscuit from a nearby platter. "And you need to hear it. You need to quit this insanity. Teodric is engaged to Ysac, and it's not going to change. He won't suddenly fall for you, and you'd better not try to sway him by magical means. Gwenore," she lowered her voice, wincing, "is watching you. As are we all."

I tutted. "Watching me? Then you criticize me for watching Teodric?"

"Astrida," Tilda cautioned, wise beyond her years, her features stern, taut. "I mean it. You're so fixated on him that you're not careful with what's at stake here." She swallowed and glanced into her tea. "Our sister's life. Our lives too, dammit. We're deep in danger, and you're too busy trying to get a hold of Teodric's cock."

I gasped, almost dropping my cup. "Tilda! Language!"

The reality was, I knew what the problem was. I was hyper-fixated on Teodric to avoid the real peril, my real fears. The reality of our lives in jeopardy.

Our mermaid monster of a half-sister was threatening our very existences, like Tilda mentioned.

So I made myself focus on Teodric, and pursuing him kept me busy. Stupid, but busy. Unable to give free rein to my worry, unable to think of things that'd give me nightmares at night.

The bigger problem was that I no longer knew how to stop myself. It didn't matter that everyone around me thought me obsessive and intense; I was in too deep.

"Enough is enough, Astrida." Tilda siphoned off the rest of her tea and stood up. "Figure out your issue and deal with it, before we're all dead."

♥♦♣♠