Marie woke to the sensation of choking, not really, but close.
Lorenzo had shifted in the night, pulling Marie even closer, face pressed into Marie's hair.
Marie's eyes flew open. The maids. They would be here any moment.
"Lorenzo," she hissed. "Wake up."
Lorenzo groaned and pulled her closer.
"Lorenzo!"
Still nothing. Just a contented hum and tighter arms.
Marie wriggled free, barely, and tried to shake Lorenzo awake. "You have to get up. The maids—"
Lorenzo's arm shot out and pulled her back down on top of her.
Marie gasped, finding herself straddling Lorenzo's waist, looking down at her face.
Lorenzo was smiling, eyes still closed.
"Stop it," Marie hissed. "This is not amusing."
But Lorenzo would not budge. Finally, Marie managed to half-drag, half-push Lorenzo toward the bed. Lorenzo was heavier than she looked, all that muscle, and Marie was panting by the time she got her onto the mattress.
She threw Lorenzo onto "his" side, covered "him" with blankets, and stepped back, breathing hard. Then she stopped.
*Why do I care if they know we slept on the floor?*
But she did care. More rumors. More whispers about the Italian prince's strange appetites.
A knock at the door.
"Come in," Marie called, smoothing her hair. The maids entered—both English and Italian—and stopped short when they saw Lorenzo still in bed.
"His Highness is still here?" one of the English maids whispered. They had never seen this. Lorenzo always woke early, was always gone before they arrived. They often saw him in the corridors looking serious and alert.
"Proceed," Marie said calmly. "His Highness needs his rest."
The bath was prepared. Marie bathed, but kept stealing glances at Lorenzo, who was sleeping peacefully, face soft and vulnerable in a way Marie rarely saw. When she emerged from behind the screen to be dressed, Lorenzo shifted.
The duvet slid down to her hips as she groaned softly, stretching. The English maids stopped moving, staring. Lorenzo's torso was fully visible now, strong abs, chest without a single hair, skin glowing golden in the morning light. The whole picture was devastatingly attractive.
One of the younger maids bit her lip, letting out a small gasp. Even Bess found herself staring longer than she should.
"What a handsome man,"one whispered.
The Italian maids were more composed—they were used to their prince's beauty—but even a few of them looked flustered.
Then Lorenzo's hand moved, sliding slowly down her chest, down her stomach, stopping just at the V of her hips where the blanket sat low. The English maids were hypnotized. Marie noticed all of it. The staring. The flushed faces. The way even Bess was looking.
"Everyone out,"Marie said sharply. They scrambled to leave, stealing one last glimpse as they went. Even Bess hurried out, looking a bit ashamed. The door closed.
Marie folded her arms and turned to the bed. "Stop this comedy. I know you are awake."
Lorenzo snored. Marie's eye twitched.
"Lorenzo—"
Another snore.
"That is it."
Marie marched to the bed and climbed up onto it. The moment she was close enough, Lorenzo's eyes flew open and she grabbed Marie, pulling her down on top of her so Marie was straddling her waist.
Lorenzo was laughing—actually laughing—her eyes bright with mischief.
"I could not resist. Your face was worth it."
Marie wanted to be annoyed. Should have been annoyed. But remembering everything that had happened yesterday—the church, the bearskin, the confessions, the laughter—she found herself softening instead.
She smiled despite herself. Lorenzo's laughter faded into something warmer as she studied Marie's face.
"Seeing how much less annoyed you are in my presence, I suspect yesterday was not entirely terrible." She shifted slightly beneath Marie, then her brow furrowed. "Though I sense... considerable tension between my legs. Which suggests we did not actually consummate."
She paused, looking genuinely confused. "Why not?"
Marie's face burned scarlet. She opened her mouth to answer, to tell Lorenzo everything— A knock at the door interrupted.
"Go away!"Lorenzo called, her hands settling on Marie's hips. "I have something important to do!"
"Your Highness—"Marcello's voice came through, urgent. "A letter from the English court."
Lorenzo groaned, her head dropping back against the pillow. On the other side of the door, Marcello smirked. The giggling. The tone in his prince's voice. She'd had a good night, clearly. Even if they apparently hadn't finished what they'd started. At least Lorenzo seemed happy—happier than Marcello had seen her in years.
Lorenzo sat up, and in one smooth motion, scooped Marie into her arms. Marie giggled as she was lifted, her arms automatically going around Lorenzo's neck. They walked to the door together, Lorenzo still holding Marie like she weighed nothing.
"Slide it under the door," Lorenzo commanded. Lorenzo, still holding Marie, bent to pick up the letter.
Lorenzo walked to her favored chair—the large, cushioned one near the window—and settled into it.
She reached for Marie, drawing her close. Marie found herself straddling her.
"Let us see what our marital bickering has wrought," Lorenzo said, amusement playing at her lips as she held up the letter. Marie smirked. Then she registered their position—Lorenzo in just her undergarments, Marie perched in her lap, their faces close enough to share breath. She blushed.
*This could be our life,* she thought, overwhelmed by the intimacy.
Lorenzo broke the seal and began reading. Her expression darkened.
"So. Here it is." She offered the letter to Marie.
Marie looked shocked that Lorenzo would share it.
"No more secrets, yes?" Lorenzo said gently.
Marie took the letter. As she began reading, Lorenzo's hand slid beneath her inner gown, along her thigh. Marie's free hand flew down to stop the wandering fingers.
"Lorenzo—"
Lorenzo chuckled and yanked the gown up.
Marie gasped. "Can you stop? I am trying to read this. It is so formal...I never thought anybody still spoke like this."
"I can help," Lorenzo offered. "On one condition."
Marie's eyes narrowed. "What condition?"
"Untie your dress. Be bare-chested for me."
Marie bit her lip, considering. Then slowly, she undid the laces and pulled the inner gown off her shoulders, letting it pool at her waist. Lorenzo watched, captivated. Marie moved shyly, eyes darting away, then back, seemingly unaware of how desirable it made her.
Red-gold curls fell forward to brush her pink nipples. When she glanced up, her eyes met Lorenzo's. Lorenzo's pupils were blown wide, dark with want. Marie covered her breasts with her hands. "Now read."
Lorenzo smirked and held up the paper: "'We, Henry, by the Grace of God, King of England, do hereby summon thee to return to Our court, that We might introduce thy bride-to-be to the Court of England.
Marie frowned. "Bride-to-be? I am not legitimate. Why would he bother having me at court?"
"It is not about you. It is merely a way to force me to bring you to court...to fight for a legitimacy he shall never grant."
Marie arched an eyebrow, impressed. "You are quite good at reading between the lines."
Lorenzo stopped reading and looked at Marie meaningfully. "I shall continue... if you expose yourself completely."
Marie blushed deeper. Lorenzo abruptly threw the letter into the fire.
"Lorenzo!" Marie gasped. Lorenzo caught Marie's wrists and pulled them behind her back, pressing Marie flush against her bare chest. Marie's eyes closed as she gasped. Her bare breasts pressed against Lorenzo's skin sent a jolt through her entire body.
"To hell with that letter,"Lorenzo said, voice rough. "I have far better things to do. Your blushing like a maiden is driving me insane."
Marie was stunned. Burning a king's letter was treason, and Lorenzo had just tossed it into the flames as if fondling with her mattered more. Marie struggled to free her wrists, but Lorenzo held firm. As Marie fought, Lorenzo began kissing her neck, soft, deliberate kisses that made her breath hitch.
Lorenzo pressed her closer, and the friction of their bodies ignited something in Marie. Her body was still sensitive from the day before.
Every point of contact felt amplified. The heat between them was overwhelming, maddening.
"Please," Marie managed, voice unsteady. "Finish telling me what it said."
Lorenzo had already memorized it. "In brief: the King wants us at court for four months. We shall be given quarters. You shall become a lady-in-waiting to the Queen, where you will be taught how to behave in high society."
"I shall go alone."
Marie fought to free her wrists, rubbing harder against Lorenzo's chest in the process. Lorenzo's hips began grinding involuntarily. The friction brought back memories.
"This feels familiar,"she murmured.
"Lorenzo." Marie's voice turned serious. "I will not be excluded from this. I have a say in the matter."
Lorenzo gasped Marie's name intimately. "I cannot protect you if I am myself in the lion's den."
"What do you expect me to do? It is a king's decree. You shall face trouble whether I come or not. Refusing is treason."
Lorenzo kissed her shoulder. "Yesterday something very good must have happened. You seem to worry about me a great deal now."
She looked deep into Marie's eyes, holding both wrists with one hand while the other came to her throat, then her face.
Marie looked away. "Our lives are bound, that is all. I simply wish to enjoy my life without becoming a criminal."
Lorenzo smiled at the transparent lie.
"I have a plan. We can say we suspect you might be with child. The journey would be too much in your condition."
Marie looked horrified.