CHAPTER 34: SHADOWS OF THE FOREST

Shadows of the Forest

He leaned in, eyes growing dark with mock despair, lips twisting in that familiar teasing smile. "Sometimes I think you don’t love me," he said wryly, half challenge, half plea.

Anna’s jaw dropped at the absurdity, the ridiculousness of it striking her with a sudden, sharp jolt of amusement. She raised an eyebrow, her hand drawing a soft path across his chest before leaning forward, leaving a slow kiss on his cheek. Her lips seared heat into him, soft but inexorable. "Don’t look at me that way," she breathed, her voice husky and intimate, the whisper skimming him like fire. "I love you more than you can imagine. But I want our son’s liberty as well.". I won’t have him tied too soon, even by a crown.

Ben’s lips curled, between a smile and the gravity of Anna’s words, but in his eyes, a flame flickered—half respect, half affection, all too human in its ferocity. The space around them closed in, quiet stretching long and heavy, full of unspoken realities, the sort that had only a chance to develop from decades of love, fear, and shared weight.

Her own hand was shaking slightly where it lay across his chest, a delicate, fragile thing in the middle of her strict tone. Ben was frozen, taken aback by the vulnerability running through her determination, and for a moment, the world beyond them ceased to be. Then a laugh escaped him, soft, low, and warm, imbued with the comfort of familiarity. He took a step back just far enough to capture her eyes, and held the moment suspended between them.

"Then we bargain," he answered, voice deep and even. "He will be our son, not king, until he is twenty-seven. Then. the decision will rest with him alone."

Anna cocked her head, eyes narrowing with amusement and examination, but the upturn of her lips revealed her consent. "You’re learning, husband," she whispered, close to taunting, close to being proud.

Ben laughed again, throwing up both hands in feigned defeat, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Yes, yes. I surrender. You win as always."

Her hand touched his, a brief, intentional caress, a reward in silence for his surrender. "Good husband," she breathed, the words spoken softly but with an underlying authority, a command only born of long years of shared living.

The warmth in her voice gave way to a solemnity that hung over the room like a velvet drape. "Then within a few days, we set the ceremony. We make him official as Crown Prince. The kingdom must know what he has become.

Ben’s smile relaxed, the corners touched by a quiet pride, as he took her hand with a tenderness she could see was matched by her own. "Of course, my love. I shall make it so. The court shall know, the people shall know—our son is the heir they have prayed for."

"Good," Anna relaxed, a combination of relief and pride constricting her chest. She allowed herself to breathe in deeply, the built-up tension of years dissolving just a little bit.

For an instant, silence fell over them, thick, intimate, and yet sweet, before Ben nodded his head in her direction, eyes flashing with a shadowed, unspoken impression. There was a hunger in that glance, one neither subtle nor to be denied, the kind of flame only trust and long familiarity could keep alight, suggesting yearnings both did not have to utter aloud to know.

"Now that your wish list is done..." His voice dropped, warm and husky, every word infused with promise and warmth. His hand closed over hers, firm but not hard, his fingers tightening around hers with subtle insistence. "Shall we go?"

Anna’s eyes blinked, her head tilting ever so slightly, curiosity and reluctance flickering in purple depths. "Go? Where?"

Ben inched forward, a slow, sly smile spreading over his lips. His thumb caressed the back of her hand, and she felt her chest jump. "To our chambers," he whispered, voice low but imbued with purpose. "There is no more work for us in the royal court tonight. The rest of the evening... let’s share it. Just the two of us. No interruptions, no duties."

His intent brushed up against her skin, and Anna’s cheeks flushed with heat. She glanced away for a moment, then returned, meeting his eyes with a silent comprehension. No words were necessary—she knew precisely what he desired. Shyness tingled in her breast, a soft fluttering, but her mouth twitched into a shy, gentle smile.

"You..." she whispered, voice husky, laced with feigned reprimand but revealing the heat beneath. "Always hungry."

But she didn’t draw her hand away. Instead, she allowed him to lead her, fingers intertwined, their pace falling into a smooth rhythm as they exited the chamber. The palace corridors wrapped their stillness around them, whispering softly with their combined laughter and the gentle press of their proximity. Husband and wife, they walked together with the closeness forged from decades of sharing the burden of the kingdom alongside one another.

Outside, night darkened. The walls of the palace kept their secrets, a quiet observer to murmured vows and exchanged heat. In the Lionheart throne room, the world seemed far away, still and safe—for the present time.

In the distance, the tranquility was an illusion that boded ill.

In the east, far in the depths of the primeval forests where moonlight found it hard to reach the ground, shadows moved. Two hooded figures stepped out from opposing points of a clearing, their footsteps quiet but sure, their appearance commanding notice. They halted, facing each other, and in the darkness, their eyes shone like embers, burning through the shadows with unspoken force.

Neither of them did any speaking. The wind at night whispered over the leaves, bearing on it the hushed vibration of something gigantic, something waiting. It was not merely the snapping of leaves; it was the pressure of the inevitable, a looming form just at the edge of perception, pushing against the limits of consciousness. The forest itself stood still, waiting, as if holding its breath. Shadows moved, lazy and intent, trembling across the trunks like stealthy witnesses. All their senses stood tall with the awareness that the initial meeting, the one which would alter their fate, had already commenced.