The Crowned Captive
A Lesson in Gratitude

They arrived at the King’s doors a minute or two later, the guards shocked as Rowan knocked against the doors with a furious intensity. He could hear shuffling in the chambers before a rather pissed-off king scowled down at him, and then at his daughter, her other guard and their captive.

“I do not believe I am aware of any reason why you would be here currently, Rowan,” the king ground out, obviously not in the mood for their intrusion. Rowan’s eyebrows lifted at that.

“I was away from Morana’s chambers, at what I was told was your request by one of your spies, hunting Rebels in the forest. I tortured one, it insinuated that they were a distraction, and then incinerated them both. When I got back, all the guards were dead, and that one was talking about severing hands and stealing away our Princess. He is a seer, I blinded him,” Rowan said as Cordan dumped the man at the King’s feet. The man only moaned. Rowan supposed that if he had tear ducts left, he would be crying.

The King stared at the four of them for a long moment, before opening the doors wider for them to come in. Rowan pushed the nervous Morana ahead of him, directing her to sit in one of the two chairs as Cordan dumped the man on the floor in front of the fireplace again.

“You are dismissed. Thank you for your services tonight. See that the guard is restored and the mess cleaned,” the King ordered Cordan, who bowed deeply at the waist and left.

“Your Majesty, may I speak freely?”

“You may, Rowan. I doubt me saying no would do any good anyway,” the King grumbled. Rowan made note of his foul mood as he continued.

“The castle was infiltrated by the Rebellion, by a seer with a direct connection to their leader no less. Morana’s cell is no longer safe, and she has shown no signs of requiring it regardless,” Rowan said. He did not miss the darkness falling over the King’s face as he spied Rowan’s dagger against his daughter’s thigh.

“I want her own rooms, rotating on a random schedule between three until we are certain the castle is secure. Cordan or I and a team of six, not the usual four, guards on watch at all times. I will not make the same mistake on orders from your spies again. Once the castle is guaranteed to be secure, we can drop the rotation and guards back to four.”

“Your request is granted,” the king ground out, obviously furious at the demands made of him. “But three of the guards will be specially chosen by me, and the other three by you at all times. I understand you trust Cordan with her life, but I do not trust his choice of guards. He is still too untested.”

“Of course, King Viktor. I ask next for permission to get answers from the worm who tried to take her. I do not trust any of your little spiders currently.”

“Granted. Is that all? Can I finally sleep now?”

“I wish for Morana to be formally recognised as our princess. It is grossly unnecessary to keep her locked up like a prisoner when she has shown no sign of intent to escape since her arrival and has thrown herself into all of her classes. She does not deserve to be treated as a lesser fae because of her mother.”

Rowan felt Morana’s head snap to him, her face paling. His king stood then, towering over him, glaring down at him with the weight of a god. Rowan ignored the obvious threat in his stance, despite the dark power radiating off the king in waves. Morana paled further at the magic assault, flinching in her seat from her father. Still, Rowan refused to balk. Not from this.

“Watch yourself, little boy. You are far from king yet, and if you continue down your road of ordering me around I will make you nothing more than a smear on the floor. Get out of my sight before I remove you,” he spat. Rowan did not miss the jolt of Morana’s shoulders at the mention of king, nor at the blatant threat against him.

Rowan bowed deeply then, practically mocking the king, before grabbing Morana by the arm. She quickly bowed as Rowan dragged her away. At the door, Rowan ordered the guards to find a team to escort their prisoner back to the dungeons, before dragging Morana through the castle once more. He knew which rooms were free and which ones were of a standard for her, and led her towards the closest, trusting Cordan would find him eventually. He shoved her inside, locked the two of them beyond it, and slumped against it.

“Do you care to explain? Anything?” Morana practically screamed. Rowan cracked open his eyes to see her staring at him, eyes wide and wild.

“Explain what, Morana,” he replied, dragging his hand over his face. He knew exactly what she yelled at him for, but did not particularly care to talk currently.

"Princess. Princess. As in daughter of the king. Is that what you just said?”

“Yes, Morana. I know you are not stupid.”

“Yet you believed keeping that from me a good idea. How the fuck am I a princess, Rowan? I am not even a full-blooded Fae.”

“Morana, you are as purely elven as I am. Please, be quiet. I do not have the mind for the yelling right now.”

He stood properly then, looking down at her furious face, and his heart finally realised he had saved her. She stood in front of him unharmed and safe. He couldn’t help himself. As she opened her mouth to begin her tirade anew, Rowan grabbed her, wrapping one hand around her waist and the other in her hair. She yelped in surprise as he grabbed her but so quickly melted under his touch. Her lips were so soft against his as he crushed her into him. Consequences be damned, he let himself free upon her, exploring her mouth with his. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to taste hers. She moaned against him, hands finding his hair and tangling themselves in it. That heady scent of rose and musk washed over him. Gods, he wanted her so bad right now. If he didn’t stop soon-

A knock at the door finally broke Rowan from the kiss. He gently released her, smirking at her swollen mouth and heaving chest. No protests bubbled from her lips now.

“That is how you thank your saviour,” Rowan said, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The knock sounded again, more incessant this time. Rowan took a deep breath, willing it away, but it sounded again. Finally, he turned.

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