I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives-Chapter 28: Dorothy Stoneford [2]

Dorothy simply could not believe the terrifying whirlwind she was living through.

A month ago, she would never have even dreamt of such things happening to her.

She was the daughter of Baron Garon Stoneford. Within the vast expanse of the Radhamantian Empire, a minor baronial house held little true power or renown, but she had lived a quiet, contented life with her father. She knew only that her mother had passed away giving birth to her, but her father’s boundless kindness had always been enough to fill the void her mother had left behind.

But exactly one month ago, her entire world had been violently upended. She had returned home from the bustling market, only to find her father lying dead upon their floor, surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

Her only remaining family had been brutally murdered.

She did not remember much of the immediate aftermath. Her memories were a blurred haze of shock and grief, but when she finally awoke, the first face she saw was that of King Marconius.

She had met him only once before, and he appeared to have been a close friend of her father’s, so she managed to trust him, at least a little.

She remembered weeping uncontrollably, desperately asking why it had happened and how it could have happened, but she received no clear answers.

However, she did remember a conversation from years ago, during the King’s visit. Her father had once told her that if anything were ever to happen to him, King Marconius would protect her. When Marconius gently proposed taking her in and offering her shelter, that old memory resurfaced, and she tearfully accepted.

He kept her safely hidden within the royal castle in secret, until the day he gently proposed that she become engaged to his son, as one of his future wives so she could truly become part of their family, as he put it.

At first, Dorothy had been profoundly shocked.

She was merely a baron’s daughter with no significant background or wealth. Her only family was dead; she had absolutely nothing of value to offer. Her lowly status made the very idea of becoming the wife of a Prince, a future King, seem utterly ridiculous.

But Marconius did not seem to care about such trivial matters of status. He simply told her that he could not bear to leave her alone in the world, that he had promised her late father he would take care of her, and that this would be the safest, best option for her future. He kindly left the final decision entirely up to her.

And Dorothy accepted.

She simply could not refuse the man who had saved her, the only man left in the world whom she felt she could truly trust. And the idea of a new family shortly having lost her remaining one was enticing and giving her hope.

But shortly after she agreed, tragedy struck once more. She learned of King Marconius’s sudden death.

The only person she trusted, the man who had offered her a new family and steadfast protection with a warm smile, was gone. She felt entirely lost and more terrified than ever before. Thankfully, the Queen, Eliana, had been there to comfort her. She solemnly promised to uphold her late husband’s words, assuring Dorothy that she would be taken care of and fiercely protected.

The Queen’s promise had somewhat reassured her. But when the time came, and she stood among the seven chosen wives of Lumiel, she quickly felt her fragile courage faltering and withering away. She felt like a complete outsider standing beside the six other brides. They all looked so breathtakingly beautiful and strong, high-ranking nobles who held their heads high with a powerful presence, despite the fact that they all appeared to be around her own age.

It was more than a little depressing.

Her new husband, however, the King seemed to be the most normal of them all. At least, that was what she thought when she first laid eyes upon him during the grand coronation ceremony.

He had looked as nervous as she was, if not even more so despite being the very man at the center of the ceremony, and he had even collapsed, which had made her worry.

But a week later, he returned completely changed.

Dorothy could scarcely believe he was the same man.

And when she looked at him now, she finally understood it in her bones: she was married to a Prince... to a King.

She had read countless tales of princes and princesses, but never, not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined she might one day wed one. Every maiden in every town dreamed of marrying a prince at least once in her life, and Dorothy would be lying if she claimed she had never dreamed of it too. Yet now that it had become her reality, she felt only more keenly the distance between their stations.

After a few hours of reading, while constantly stealing glances at Lumiel, Dorothy eventually stopped and closed her book.

She glanced at him again and realized he had fallen asleep; his eyes were closed, his posture slackened in a way that made him look almost... ordinary.

"Your Majesty?" She called timidly.

No answer. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

She placed her book atop the pile beside her, then shifted slightly on the bench to look at him more directly. From his profile, she scanned his face and felt heat creep into her cheeks.

He truly had a princely face, more than she ever would have dared to imagine. And the fact that she was one of his wives made her stomach flutter with nervous, foolish butterflies.

She had been afraid he would be stern and cruel, like the princes in the darker tales she had heard whispered in taverns and salons. But he was nothing like that. He had treated her kindly, so kindly that it sometimes frightened her more than coldness would have.

Still staring, she leaned closer, her hands resting atop the pile of books for balance.

"Your Majesty..." She whispered again.

Then her palms slipped on the smooth covers, the books shifting under her weight, and she toppled forward.

"Aaah!" She yelped, catching herself clumsily on his shoulder.

She raised her gaze, timidly, mortified and met Lumiel’s golden eyes, now open and fixed on her.

Her entire face turned crimson.

"M—My apologies!" She blurted, jerking back at once. In her haste, she fumbled for the books that had slid and fallen, gathering them with trembling fingers.

Lumiel watched her for a moment, a faint smile curving at the edge of his mouth, before he yawned and stood.

Stretching his arms, he took up Hyperion from where it rested against the bench and fastened it back at his side.

"Damn... how long have I been napping?" He asked no one.

"Um... two hours, Your Majesty," Dorothy replied quietly as she stood as well, still holding the books close.

Lumiel turned toward her.

He stepped closer.

Dorothy inadvertently took a step back, the backs of her knees striking the bench. She nearly collapsed but Lumiel moved faster, sliding an arm around her back and catching her before she fell.

He held her there, his gaze lingering on her face.

Then he leaned in.

"Y—Your Majesty..." Dorothy mumbled, her face burning hot. Her hands rested weakly against his chest, unsure whether to push him away or cling to him.

Lumiel closed the distance until she could feel his breath, warm, and calm....so near that it made her heart stutter.

Dorothy’s beautiful purple eyes grew moist as she stared back up at him, helplessly.

When he leaned closer still, bringing his lips near hers, Dorothy shut her eyes and braced herself for a kiss.

But nothing came.

She opened her eyes again.

His face was very close, too close and their mouths hovered a hair’s breadth apart, yet did not touch. If their skin met, there would be that strange backlash again... yet this nearness, this restraint, made it all the more intimate to Dorothy. Like a kiss that existed in the space between them, held back by fate itself.

Her breath quickened. She gasped softly against the edge of his breath, unable to form a single word.

Lumiel stared a moment longer, reading her face. Then his lips curved slightly, and he finally pulled away guiding her upright, setting her back on steady footing.

He said nothing else.

He simply turned and walked off, leaving Dorothy standing there with her hands clenched into fists against her chest.

Only when he was gone did her knees give out.

She sank back onto the bench, breathing hard, cheeks flushed a delicate pink, with her heart pounding loudly in her chest.