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wisps of hair framing his beautifully unearthly face. Those intense black eyes stare forward across the room, jet black eyelashes making him look somewhat 'pretty' while never taking his sheer masculinity away from him.

Abigor, Dances With Wolves, will be my husband, and I will be his queen. The child inside me will be the prince. I would have outright laughed if one of the local "witches" in my village predicted my future from her crystal ball saying that I would one day willingly marry the barbarian king.

When I look at him again, he catches me and enchants me with a small smile. "What is it?" he asks softly.

I tilt my head to the side. "It's nothing. You're just…I don't know. You're sort of beautiful," I say, completely dazzled by his irresistible charm.

He snorts. "That's not what I was looking for, but…thank you, my love." Abigor winks at me, his eyes growing lustful. 'My love'. That was definitely the first time he'd called me that, actually meaning something.

My heart speeds up and I turn back to my stew so that he won't see the dark red blush painting my cheeks. He squints in the firelight before grinning again. He's seen it anyways.

"You, Tiger Claw, are most beautiful. Do not hide your blush from me. I see all. I am Dances With Wolves, your mighty king and husband." Husband. That's the keyword that I'd never thought I'd hear come out of his mouth…at least when he was speaking to me. He slips a finger under my chin and pulls my face up so that my eyes connect with his. "Kiss me." It is not a request. It is a command.

I lean closer to him, kissing his lips tenderly with my own. As I am about to pull away, he grabs my face tighter and pulls me back in for a more satisfying kiss, one with plenty of tongue and saliva and passion. He tastes of wine and rabbit stew. I pull away finally, laughter dying on my lips.

It doesn't take long to notice the stares from the people at the table around us. Some smile, some blush and some look away in embarrassment from being caught. Abigor just keeps eating his soup, his abnormally hot hand resting on mine. He has no sense of embarrassment. He only takes pride in the things he has conquered. And he has, undoubtedly, conquered me.

"Na yi ta na da kyau, na'am," Abigor speaks up in his native tongue. It sounds so rough and manly when he says the words. "Amma idan wani daga gare ku kiyaye staring a inda zan mace kamar cewa, shi ke tabbace yake cewa ba za ka so a sakamakon. (I realize she is a beauty, yes. But if any of you keep staring at my woman like that, it's guaranteed that you won't like the consequences.)

I hear a few gasps as people look away from me instantly. My eyes widen and I look at Abigor. He keeps his eyes locked on his stew, but squeezes my hand tightly to acknowledge me. The kitchen servants enter the room with more plates of food. There are bread and wine on the carts. The set the trays all the way down the long table and then scurry away to stand at the doorway.

Abigor pours himself a glass of wine and takes a slice of bread. Then he stands, immediately silencing every mouth in the room. "Ina so in ba da shawara a maku yabo na sabuwar matarsa ." He says. (I would like to propose a toast to my new wife.)

The people grab their slices of bread and their wine almost instantly. I look around and do the same. I don't want to feel like the outcast.

He looks down and smiles at me. "To mai girma sabon zamanin mulkin, to nake kauna, Sarauniya, da kuma na da karfi dan hawa, a ciki." (To a new great reign, to my beautiful queen, and to my son riding in her stomach.)

My eyes widen and I instantly gasp. Everyone begins to cheer at the table, shouting their congratulations to me. I thought he just said that he was going to wait! Abigor shoots me a satisfied look that says, 'Well, I lied.'

He grabs my hand and stands me up with him, turning me to the side and smoothing his hand over my swelling stomach. I can feel my face reddening, but I know he's only showing me off. The people stomp twice before ripping their bread in half, dipping it into the wine and sinking their teeth into it. "A maku yabo!" they all cry out. It means a toast.

I sit back down in my seat, gulping down my nervousness. "What happened to waiting? And telling me so I wouldn't look like a complete fool?"

He grabs me again and kisses me in a frenzy of lust and passion, trying to wipe my mind from my annoyance. It works for the most part. "I felt like saying it. You're mine in every way possible, and it's kind of hard for me not to flaunt you."

That comment makes me laugh. I shake my head at him. "You're relentless."

He shrugs his shoulders. "And you love it."
Skin

I sit in my chair near the fire, watching Michelle and the other palace ladies knit blankets as a recreational activity. Winter's been progressing faster and it's our duty to knit blankets and. It's about four o' clock, but it's darkening quickly. I haven't heard from the men since dinner, and Abigor's been in meetings a lot of the afternoon to talk about the war.

The artillery project is coming along well. Cannons are being built, as well as catapults. And they're being tested in the secluded forests surrounding the back of Castle Rock. Abigor is pleased with how they are working and he is even more sure that our chances of winning the war have gone up.

I look up from my knitting as I hear heavy footsteps enter the room. It's Abigor, and three of his other men. He looks directly at me. "We are going hunting in the Forest of Thieves. Now that it is getting colder, the caribou and the deer are migrating down further to find more food."

I nod my head and toy with the skirt over my legs. "Okay. Will you be back before dark?" I ask him. He glances out of the window at the setting sun and the darkening sky.

"I shall be back before dark. I shall bring home dinner." He smiles at me and strokes a hot fingertip down my cheek. I lean into his cheek and kiss his wrist. "Will you wait for me?"

He grins at me, revealing those perfect, straight teeth. "I will always wait for you," I say to him, laughing at his impishness. "Now get going, you oaf. Catch us some dinner."

Abigor plants a kiss on my cheek and rubs my growing stomach. "I will bring something for our son."

Three Horses says something to Abigor about the time, and he nods his head, pulling away from me. I wave to him as he leaves. Drinks Of Waterfall kisses Michelle tenderly and then quickly follows after Abigor.

"You certainly do have the king wrapped around your pinky finger," Arlena comments with a clever smile playing on her pink lips. She is Grey Hawk's woman, lavished with jewels and has her face painted with makeup. She smells of fancy oils and creams that only the "noble women" have the privilege of wearing. "I think we can all safely agree that the king has never let his guard down as when he is with you."

I blush, looking down at the wine red scarf I'm knitting. "He is kind," I say to them all. When I look up, I can see Ivona frowning at me. She's developed a certain dislike towards me ever since she could see Iron Coyote's attraction towards me. The jealousy gleams green in her eyes and makes her face twist into an ugly expression.

She huffs before returning to her knitting. Michelle, with her stomach protruding as she is in her fifth month of pregnancy, is having trouble seeing the item she is knitting below her. Drinks Of Waterfall has had their wedding already in the privacy of the local church. Abigor had given him permission to wed her and he wanted to do it without all of the fuss of a large, grand wedding. They invited no one except the priest to marry them. They never take their eyes off of each other.

They are truly the deepest in love.

Unlike Drinks of Waterfall, Abigor plans to have his wedding be known to every soul on the continent. Everyone will know that he is marrying me, and everyone will see my hand in his on our wedding day. To him, it is the grandest claim speech a man can have; and now everyone will know that I am his and he is mine.

Michelle wears the little silver band around her finger quite proudly. It shines in the firelight, occasionally clinking against her sewing needle when she manoeuvres it around the yarn.

"Has Dances With Wolves made many preparations for the wedding?" Camellia asks me under the curtain of her long black hair. She bites a string in two with her sharp white teeth. Camellia is White Fire Sun's woman. White Fire sun is much older than her but loves her the same. He has seen about twenty-six summers whereas she has seen only seventeen.

I nod my head, my eyes instinctively widening. "There is not a peasant in the village that is not preparing a gift for us; that is what the king said to me." I laugh a little. "It's odd, being looked up to as a queen when I wear no crown upon my head."

The women all nod, their heads bobbing as they knit ferociously. "You are respected as a queen before you wear the crown because you carry the king's child in your stomach," Ivona says, her voice a little standoffish and harsh, saying it in such a way as if it is the only reason why I am respected.

Arlena shoots Ivona a warning glare before turning back to me with a smile stretched on her face. "You wear the prized topaz. Everyone knows the story of the topaz, and every woman in the entire kingdom has had hopes and dreams at some point of being the individual that could wear said jewel around her neck." She blushes in the firelight, clutching her scarf to her heart. "Even I have had the dreams, Tiger Claw."

This conversation has quickly become awkward for me as I finally realize how many women truly pant over Abigor and dream of being the diamond in his eye. I resort to saying nothing, just looking down to see my handiwork. The scarf is almost finished.

A gust of freezing cold wind blows in through the open window next to us. We all shiver, resulting in Michelle jumping up and waddling over to shut it. "This winter wind is merciless," Arlena grumbles, rubbing her shoulders in discomfort. "All this talk of war is making me rather unsettled."

The ladies all nod their heads in agreement. "I am afraid for Iron Coyote's life. He is the one to lead the armies

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