"You're pregnant?!" Emily gasped.
"She's pregnant?" Annabelle frowned
"P-pregnant?" Tristan stuttered.
They were all in Victoria's suite, standing at her bedside as Baptiste sopped her forehead with a warm rag. Annabelle's expression was unreadable, and Emily didn't know what to think. After all, the women had been trying for a child for years to no avail.
Victoria had been missing in action for a few days, barely showing her face outside of the room. She'd told Emily she just needed some rest and not to mention it to her ex-wife, but Annabelle caught on all on her own. Once she'd grilled Victoria about why she'd locked herself away and realized the woman was indeed in poor health, she called for Baptiste right away.
The Maester showed up a few hours later asking for privacy so he could examine the patient. Twenty minutes later, everyone rejoined them in Victoria's room for the surprise announcement.
"She's with child." Baptiste spoke. "She's going to need special vitamins. There hasn't been any morning sickness—according to what I was told," He gave Victoria a look. "But I recommend bed rest for the next few weeks, balanced diet. There's also an herbal tea that fares well for pregnancy."
Emily's brows shot up at the mention of herbal tea. Could that be the same tea Margret fed her almost daily before she even knew she was pregnant?
Baptiste excused himself, saying he would leave instructions in Annabelle's study for the wolf's care. They all stood at the bedside, the silence almost deafening. Victoria looked at any and everything except any of the faces in the room.
The queen didn't realize her hands were in fists at her side until she'd noticed the blonde glancing down at them. She opened her palms, allowing the blood to flow freely after they were clenched so tightly for God knows how long. Annabelle had more questions at that point than anything else in her mind. She didn't want to bombard her ex—but she almost needed to know the answer to at least one.
"Who's the father?" she finally spoke.
Victoria's eyes landed on Tristan before quickly looking off again.
"Well...I'm gonna check on Gideon." Emily excused herself once realization hit.
"I—also have stuff..." Tristan scurried behind her.
Annabelle was shocked to say the very least. If what she'd assumed was correct, it wasn't something she saw coming at all. "Him?"
"Annabelle—"
"Tristan's the father?" she repeated.
"Fuck, it was just a drunken night that shouldn't have happened. In fact, it wouldn't have happened if I wasn't a raging alcoholic for the last four months."
The taller woman had confusion written all over her face.
"I haven't been okay, Annabelle." She continued. "I just haven't been okay. I haven't been able to come to terms with everything that happened. Being dead... I don't know for how long. Gaps in my memory, nightmares about being eaten alive. Drinking...It was the only thing that helped. It was the only thing that kept me from completely losing my mind."
"Why haven't you said anything before now?" Annabelle sat at the edge of the bed. "I would have gotten you help; I could have done something."
"Listen to yourself," Tears broke free from the barrier of Victoria's eyelids. "You would have done anything and everything and I know that. But I'm not your responsibility anymore Annabelle. You have a family now."
"Maybe you missed my big speech, but everyone under the crown is my responsibility. And even if—you aren't just anyone. We were married Victoria. People don't just stop loving each other because the relationship ended. I have so much love for you still—it's insane. You are my family. You make up a huge part of my home, my life. Thinking you were dead, imagining immortality without my best friend was excruciating."
Tears were flowing freely down the younger woman's face. She was speechless. Annabelle hadn't spoken that way in such a long time, it was easy to assume her reactions—and Victoria didn't expect her to react in that way.
Annabelle crawled into bed beside the pale woman; Victoria shifting to lay her head on her shoulder.
"I guess when Lockheed said you couldn't have my child, he meant it." Annabelle gave a dry laugh. "It is what it is..."
"So much for no one ever finding bout about that night." Victoria groaned. "I don't even know how to feel about this."
"I get that the circumstances aren't ideal...In fact, I may be a little jealous. But I thought you'd be happy to finally be having a child."
Victoria shrugged lightly, "It's not that I'm unhappy. Like you said...There's nothing between Tristan and I. Having a child for someone I felt something for would have made it an easier pill to swallow." She looked off, deep in thought.
"Well," Annabelle sighed, giving the woman's bare shoulder a peck. "What's done is done. Now, you heard Baptiste. Bed rest until further notice."
The queen left the bed with intentions of giving Tristan a stern talking to.
"Anna," Victoria's voice called once she'd reached the door. "Leave that man alone—he didn't do anything wrong."
Annabelle chuckled, rolling her eyes at how well her ex-wife knew her.
"Fine."
♕
The new couple were spending some time together away from the castle—for the first time. Annabelle had only just found a nanny she felt comfortable enough to leave their son with whilst the weren't around. Of course, Tristan and the other guards were aware and kept a keen eye on the woman minding the prince.
She was dressed in mid-thigh swim trunks and a bra, sunscreen glistening against her tanned skin. Emily laid out on the deck of the Royal yacht in a high waisted, salmon-pink bikini. The thin material of her cover-up barely hid her exposed flesh. They were sailing, nowhere in particular, just sailing along the coast. There were four guards aboard, a chef and the captain of the ship.
The body of the yacht was sleek, freshly painted white with the Salvatore family crest flying as a flag on the mast. It had been quite some time since Annabelle did something so...spontaneous. But there was no one she'd rather be doing it with. She sipped on a glass of blood red wine, a novel in hand as she lounged in one of the pool chairs.
Her eyes flickered to the blonde who'd rolled over onto her stomach, obviously trying to even her tan. The book in Annabelle's hand only served as a distraction from the real entertainment. The fact was: she couldn't keep her eyes off Emily. Every move the young woman made in the pink bikini stirred something in the pit of her stomach.
"My Queen," the chef stood in the yacht's doorway. "Lunch is just about ready."
Annabelle gave the woman a nod, walking towards Emily. She stretched a hand, which the blonde quickly took, pulling herself off the boat's deck. The woman tried to ignore the ache in her groin in response to Emily's chest bouncing slightly as she stood to her feet.
Emily's cheeks were tinged red as her eyes met with Annabelle's low, cloudy ones. She knew exactly what was running through the Queen's mind at that moment, and unsurprisingly—they were on the same page. The two made their way below deck, entering a small kitchenette. They sat across from each other at the table, cutlery already in their places.
Chef Jenna put the finishing touches on the plates before placing each down carefully in front of them. It was freshly caught salmon, with a quinoa salad. The meal was light, fresh and exactly what Emily wanted on a day like that one. She glanced across at Annabelle, only to find the woman completely lost in thought.
"Are you okay?" she asked after swallowing another forkful of food.
"Yeah," the hybrid gave her a small smile.
"I didn't get to ask you...How do you feel about everything?" Emily searched the woman's face for a reaction. "I mean with Victoria, Tristan...etcetera."
"Oh," she chuckled. "How should I feel?" she shrugged. "It's sore. Just confirms that Lockheed really had it out for me. It's fucked up to think that the only thing that stood between Victoria and having a child—something so important to her...was me."
"It's not your fault."
"Emily," she sighed. "That statement only works if it's not someone's fault. This was my fault." Annabelle pushed her half-empty plate aside. "But I'm happy for her, genuinely. I think it's another part of healing from everything that's happened in the past. Good things are happening Emily. We're not in any immediate, life-threatening danger; I have a son, I'm in lo-" she stopped herself.
Emily's brow shot up. "What was that?"
The older woman rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She hummed, "I could have sworn I heard something... maybe something that rhymes with dove."
"No clue." There was a slight blush on Annabelle's cheeks by that point.
"Interesting..." the blonde smirked. "Then I guess I'll also pretend I didn't see how you were eye-fucking me all day."
Annabelle choked on her drink, coughing wildly at Emily's words. Before she could get a word out, a soft foot rubbed against her thigh. She glanced at the blonde who sported a mischievous look, her leg travelling further up Annabelle's thigh with each second that elapsed.
"Woman," Annabelle groaned as her member strained against fabric of the tight beach shorts.
Emily shushed her, using her eyes to discretely point in the direction of the chef who was fixing desert in the far corner of the kitchen. It was all fun and games but if Emily continued to rub her like that, she would certainly cum right then and there.
Emily could feel the older woman's erection against her foot, and her body reacted immediately to the dirty thoughts that ran through her mind in that very moment. She kept rubbing, almost teasingly as Annabelle's were squeezed shut in concentration. She was trying not to cum.
She sent a quick glance once again to the chef behind her, smiling once she confirmed the woman was lost in her work. When the queen's eyes opened again, red replaced its usual grey. It turned Emily on to know she had that effect on her. The blonde stuck her middle finger up and Annabelle frowned, unsure of why.
The frown quickly changed to a look of hunger when Emily sucked on her own finger, hand disappearing below the table almost immediately after. The blonde shifted the fabric of her own underwear, her eyes never leaving Annabelle's as she touched herself. She could admit freely now, being with Annabelle was an experience. She learned so much about her own sexual pleasure in the last few months and in conclusion, she simply loved winding Annabelle up. She knew what buttons to push, where to touch, how to serve.
Her lips parted as she slipped her own finger inside her warmth, her walls clenching to accommodate the welcomed disturbance. Something between a small sigh and a moan escaped her lips as she thrusted inside herself, Annabelle's low eyes never leaving hers.
"Jenna,"
"My Queen?" the chef glanced up from the tray of deserts.
"Can you give us a few minutes?"
The woman nodded, "Are you going to want des—"
"No." she cut the chef off. "Unless you want to experience us on a deeper level, I suggest you leave...quickly."
Realization hit and Jenna wasted no time scurrying out of the kitchen. Annabelle stood, slouching slightly although the roof was at least a foot taller than she was. She grabbed Emily's hand, hungrily licking the moisture from the woman's fingers.
"You're so nasty."
Emily moaned at the contact of Annabelle's tongue licking her fingers clean. The taller woman pulled her up from the bench, shoving everything on the table aside with a clatter.
"Why are we always fucking on table and counter tops?" Emily moaned as she fell against the table.
"Maybe because you insist on teasing me." The hybrid was breathless, a string of rough kisses being placed on her neck as Emily simultaneously yanked the beach shorts to the woman's mid-thigh. Her hand cupped Annabelle's length, applying pressure as she stroked it. Annabelle moaned, kissing her lips fervently. Their tongues battling hungrily for dominance.
Emily's eyes rolled back as the woman filled her up, adjusting herself on the table to accommodate all of Annabelle's erection. The hybrid shifted inside her, mouth covering one of the blonde's nipples, tugging gently at the nub as her strokes went deeper.
Their moans filled the small kitchen, bouncing off the walls as Emily begged, pleaded for release. Her lips found Annabelle's shoulder, sucking on the tanned flesh in an attempt to relieve the pressure building inside her.
The remaining cutlery scattered onto the floor as the thrusts became more aggressive. Emily could hardly hold herself together, what she'd felt was different. The orgasm that rocked her every being, came as a projectile soaking Annabelle's abdomen in juices. The blonde didn't have time think about what happened, much less be embarrassed about it as Annabelle continued to fuck her mercilessly.
"I—I can't!"
And she couldn't—she couldn't hold back another orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. Emily coming undone below her was more than enough to send Annabelle over the edge. Their eyes connected as she throbbed, emptying herself inside the blonde.
"Fuck," Annabelle panted, still inside Emily. "That was..."
"So.good." Emily breathed.
An hour later and they found themselves in bed, Emily snuggled into the queen's bare chest. Annabelle sighed in content as flashes of their lovemaking ran through her mind. There was just something about Emily that made every single act of intimacy feel so much better than she'd ever experienced.
The blonde lay quiet, staring off at the wall. Her hand anxiously rubbing circles onto Annabelle's thigh.
"You wanna check in, don't you?"
Emily nodded before she even finished the sentence. The taller woman chuckled, pulling out her smartphone. There was ringing through the speaker before Tristan's gruff voice answered.
"What?"
He groaned when Emily's face appeared beside her. "Emily this is the fourth call for the day, he is fine."
"I just wanna see him." she pouted.
The witch-hunter rolled his eyes, switching the camera's view. The nanny had Gideon in a stroller, pushing him gently around the yard, singing a lullaby.
"Did he eat? Has he been good? Have you been keeping an eye on the nanny?"
"Annabelle please tell your girlfriend that your kid is fine. I've been on this nanny's tail all day, he's well fed, not fussing, he's fine."
Emily nodded, tears pooling in her eyes as they disconnected the call. Being a new mother had given her emotions she'd never expected to experience. She didn't like the fear she felt whenever Gideon wasn't with her.
"How about we head back to land?" Annabelle spoke, noticing her tears.
Emily chuckled between tears, nodding quickly. "Please."