Queen Sized - Jessa Kane Page 0,16
She takes an easy lead, speed walking calmly up the hill while others fall by the wayside. Her chin is up, eyes ahead. Graceful as hell. Almost like…
Like a queen.
There’s no denying it. She is regal. Even in the face of these men shouting and cheering, she does not lose her composure. Doesn’t even break sweat. She is easily going to win…
But then I see her lose focus.
Her step slows and she turns back, noticing the fair-haired woman is about to give up. She does not have the strength to get the buckets up the hill, her reed-thin frame shaking under the weight. I know what Gwen is going to do before she even does it.
The crowd quiets as Gwen retraces her steps back down the hill.
She exchanges a few words with the woman who she is meant to be competing against. Then she dips her knees and hooks one side of her apparatus beneath the woman’s, thus transferring the bulk of the weight to her own shoulders. And they continue on, the fair-haired woman gasping in relief at her newfound lightness.
It takes me a moment to realize I’m standing.
My muscles coil and shudder with the need to go help Gwen, because the added weight is obviously not easy for her. She stumbles a little and my heart almost throws itself out of my chest, but she rights herself and keeps going, twice as determined than before.
God almighty. I’m in love with this woman.
Not even on the battlefield have I encountered a human being with more heart or compassion or perseverance.
Something in front of me catches my eye and I manage to drag my attention from Gwen momentarily, noticing that three other children have joined Gwen’s sisters at my feet in the grass. Two older ones holding a toddler, unkempt but smiling, fair-haired.
Gwen’s youngest sister puts an arm around the slight shoulders of the toddler and all five of them kind of scoot together, like one big support unit, and honestly, I don’t know what is taking place in my chest, but it’s not…comfortable. All I know for certain is that the values Gwen has taught her sisters are on display. She’s led by example. It’s obvious.
What I’m asking her to do goes against all of that, doesn’t it?
I lift the heavy gold crown off my head so I can rake agitated fingers through my hair.
And I force myself to remember the pain a marriage can bring.
How I sat in the dark night after night, unfed and on the verge of freezing to death, vowing I would never allow someone the weapon of matrimony to use against me. I can’t be changing my mind after only one day of knowing this woman. I can’t. I’ve lived with this vow my entire life. To relinquish a promise to oneself to easily is without honor, isn’t it?
Gwen reaches the top of the hill, although she has fallen to last place in order to help her friend, and soldiers rush forward to remove the buckets from her shoulders, along with those of the other woman, who immediately throws her arms around Gwen’s neck and holds tight. I feel a kinship with Gwen that cannot be described with mere words when she hesitantly pats the woman on the back, uncomfortable with the display of emotion.
I begin to approach Gwen when I notice something that causes alarm to pulse in my chest. The king of Lavere is watching Gwen closely. Far too closely.
Thoughtfully, as well.
Jealousy rips through me like a juggernaut, turning every soft emotion that has been plaguing me during the competition and flipping them upside down. A roar pulls at my vocal cords, demanding to be let free, but I swallow it when Gwen sails right past the other king without so much as a curtsy, not even noticing his attempt to engage her with a smile. That alone saves this entire valley from being ripped to shreds by my bare hands, but I’m still overcome by possessiveness. The need to have her to myself, away from all these eyes, underneath me, is fierce and won’t be ignored.
Gwen’s step slows a little when she sees her two sisters in front of me, but she continues to approach, hand in hand with the fair-haired woman. That’s when the children all start talking at once in a chorus of high-pitched voices.
“Gwen, can we go to their tent and play?”
“Yes, please, Gwen? Can we?”
“Now, we’re not going to impose—”
“Oh it wouldn’t be imposing,” the fair-haired woman