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Authors: Ava Sinclair
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forehead. Avin waited until he left the room to cry.
Chapter Ten
On a particularly beautiful morning, Avin began her training by kneeling on the floor, her back to the king, her hands on the collar behind her neck, her elbows out to the side. She’d been like that for nearly an hour. It was part of the king’s punishment for her particularly disagreeable mood. The other part was visible on her bright red bottom. Xander had used the strap, and the angry red stripes it left had yet to fade.
The coronation was just days away now, and Xander had sent his father to escort the procession to Windbourne with the primary motive of getting him out of the castle and away from Avin.
They’d had a week together, and Xander knew the root cause of her disobedience was the frustration of knowing that this was their last day together before Lord Reginald returned with the visiting nobility from Ravenscroft. The guests would keep the king too occupied to see her.
He did not tell her that he dreaded his father’s homecoming as much as she did.
As he suspected, the old lord had not taken Avin’s improved circumstances well, and his animosity against the former queen had only increased after Xander had defended her in the dining hall. Tension between father and son had heightened when Lord Reginald sought to force his son’s hand where Avin was concerned.
“I want her banished as soon as the coronation is over!” he’d railed at Xander, pacing angrily back and forth before his son’s throne. “Once she appears at your feet at your official crowning, I’m having her sent away to a family in the south where she can be put to proper use. Perhaps she could empty the chamber pots for Lord Umbry, or serve as a governess for Lady Halston?” He chuckled. “That would be fitting for that haughty little bitch, caring for the children of others as her womb shrivels inside of her. Refuse to marry my son, will she? I’ll see it that she marries no man, not while I draw breath.”
“Avin’s future is not yours to decide.” Xander’s thunderous expression had gone ignored by his father, but his tone could not be so easily dismissed.
Cynric had interrupted before tensions could escalate further. The matter of Avin, he said, could be discussed after the coronation. It would bring no comfort to the nobility of Ravenscroft to see father and son at odds when both had worked to secure the alliance.
Later, Cynric had been the one to suggest that Lord Reginald serve as the king’s representative to bring the Ravenscroft lords back to Windbourne. To the relief of both men, Xander’s father had agreed without a fight. But any suspicion Xander may have had with his father’s compliance vanished in the satisfaction of knowing he had Avin to himself until his father’s return. Now, that time was coming to an end.
Avin sniffled, and Xander felt a stab of pity he could not show. Her disappointment did not excuse her disrespect, after all. And he knew deep down she’d have been disappointed in him if he’d borne her rudeness without consequence.
Walking over, he hooked his finger in her collar and lifted Avin to her feet.
“I am your king,” he said. “And you belong to me. I’ll not tolerate disobedience. Understand?”
She dropped her eyes. “Yes,” she said.
“How sore is your bottom?” He reached behind her, palming a cheek. She flinched.
“Very.”
“Too sore to sit on a horse?”
She looked up at him, surprised. “A horse?”
“I thought we’d end the time we’ve had together on a good note. I’m not familiar with the kingswood around Windbourne. Could you show it to me?”
A bright smile replaced her tears. “I can think of nothing I’d love more.”
It was his gift to her, this ride. Despite her tender nates, Avin kept a firm seat on her white mare as he rode beside her on his large gray gelding.
But what started as an outing to mend Avin’s spirits quickly evoked memories of past rides at
Chapter Ten
On a particularly beautiful morning, Avin began her training by kneeling on the floor, her back to the king, her hands on the collar behind her neck, her elbows out to the side. She’d been like that for nearly an hour. It was part of the king’s punishment for her particularly disagreeable mood. The other part was visible on her bright red bottom. Xander had used the strap, and the angry red stripes it left had yet to fade.
The coronation was just days away now, and Xander had sent his father to escort the procession to Windbourne with the primary motive of getting him out of the castle and away from Avin.
They’d had a week together, and Xander knew the root cause of her disobedience was the frustration of knowing that this was their last day together before Lord Reginald returned with the visiting nobility from Ravenscroft. The guests would keep the king too occupied to see her.
He did not tell her that he dreaded his father’s homecoming as much as she did.
As he suspected, the old lord had not taken Avin’s improved circumstances well, and his animosity against the former queen had only increased after Xander had defended her in the dining hall. Tension between father and son had heightened when Lord Reginald sought to force his son’s hand where Avin was concerned.
“I want her banished as soon as the coronation is over!” he’d railed at Xander, pacing angrily back and forth before his son’s throne. “Once she appears at your feet at your official crowning, I’m having her sent away to a family in the south where she can be put to proper use. Perhaps she could empty the chamber pots for Lord Umbry, or serve as a governess for Lady Halston?” He chuckled. “That would be fitting for that haughty little bitch, caring for the children of others as her womb shrivels inside of her. Refuse to marry my son, will she? I’ll see it that she marries no man, not while I draw breath.”
“Avin’s future is not yours to decide.” Xander’s thunderous expression had gone ignored by his father, but his tone could not be so easily dismissed.
Cynric had interrupted before tensions could escalate further. The matter of Avin, he said, could be discussed after the coronation. It would bring no comfort to the nobility of Ravenscroft to see father and son at odds when both had worked to secure the alliance.
Later, Cynric had been the one to suggest that Lord Reginald serve as the king’s representative to bring the Ravenscroft lords back to Windbourne. To the relief of both men, Xander’s father had agreed without a fight. But any suspicion Xander may have had with his father’s compliance vanished in the satisfaction of knowing he had Avin to himself until his father’s return. Now, that time was coming to an end.
Avin sniffled, and Xander felt a stab of pity he could not show. Her disappointment did not excuse her disrespect, after all. And he knew deep down she’d have been disappointed in him if he’d borne her rudeness without consequence.
Walking over, he hooked his finger in her collar and lifted Avin to her feet.
“I am your king,” he said. “And you belong to me. I’ll not tolerate disobedience. Understand?”
She dropped her eyes. “Yes,” she said.
“How sore is your bottom?” He reached behind her, palming a cheek. She flinched.
“Very.”
“Too sore to sit on a horse?”
She looked up at him, surprised. “A horse?”
“I thought we’d end the time we’ve had together on a good note. I’m not familiar with the kingswood around Windbourne. Could you show it to me?”
A bright smile replaced her tears. “I can think of nothing I’d love more.”
It was his gift to her, this ride. Despite her tender nates, Avin kept a firm seat on her white mare as he rode beside her on his large gray gelding.
But what started as an outing to mend Avin’s spirits quickly evoked memories of past rides at
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