A Royal Craving (28 page)

Prosper spent most of his night working on plans for Spencer's hospital. He had to pass all the legal papers for the project, before his life mate could arrange to fill the medical positions.

Until those papers were dealt with, Spencer remained free to spend time with his parents. He took them for a tour of the mansion, with Camryn and Parry trailing behind, listening to and telling stories of the Royal family.

Davian, on the other hand, mentioned that he would call the builders working on their house, to check on their progress and any need they had of more materials.

Everyone seemed busy and looked to the future with hope. Hope that Spencer had given them. He had changed all their lives, some without meaning to. In the process, he had become an indispensable part of their family. A lover, a friend, a life mate, the glue that held them together, the strength that made them stand tall. He was the only mirror Prosper ever wanted to look into. For the first time in his life, what he saw looking back at him made him proud.

He replaced three medical books on the library shelf, while talking into a dictaphone that sat on the coffee table. “…and furthermore, healthcare in the city is in a deplorable state. To quickly remedy this urgent need, a free clinic will be opening within the heart of the city, for the needy and poor,” he spoke aloud, as he replaced the books and pulled out a half dozen more. He turned to place them on the table, only to spot Sienna standing in the doorway.

Prosper frowned and crossed to the coffee table. He put the books down and lifted the dictaphone, to switch it off. “Can I help you?” he asked, briskly.

“I wanted to apologise. For being rude. And wrong,” Sienna said, with a small croak that suggested she struggled to get the words out.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. He would not open the discussion, when he did not believe she meant a word she said. Impatient to get this conversation over with, he took a seat on the sofa, gesturing for his sister to sit opposite him, on the single armchair.

“I realise I have been hard on Spencer, for no reason,” Sienna began, forcing the words out. “I decided he should not be with you and get pregnant because of the risks, but now I see it is none of my business. You are the King and can do whatever you please,” she continued, fiddling with the rings on her fingers as she talked.

“I do not want our family torn apart because of me,” she confessed. “Parry and Davian are moving onto your estate and you are taking Spencer and his parents to your house, to live there. We are being separated, Prosper, and I do not want there to be a fault in our relationship that makes visiting or gatherings awkward.” Sienna turned pleading eyes onto him.

“I cannot forgive you, Sienna,” Prosper informed her, with a shrug. “You did something unforgivable. If you want to repair your relationship with Parry, I suggest you keep your pleading for his ears. I will never forget that you accused me of hurting my life mate…of forcing him to suffer.” He rose to his feet, gathering the books and dictaphone before leaving.

Sienna would never be sorry, nor did she blame herself. She simply did not want to be alone. But it would be a cold day in Hell, before Sienna ever accepted blame.

S
pencer was a ball of nervous energy, as he helped Eamon in the kitchen, with a complicated concoction he made for the ceremony that would take place that night. It required a specially blended mixture of three types of blood that Spencer must drink, during the ceremony, if he wished to become a vampire and Prosper's rightful husband.

Which he did. Very much.

He would then feed from his King during the turning, to complete the ceremony of turning a human into a vampire. By the ancient laws, and because Prosper was royalty, it could only be performed during their marriage. Which certainly explained some of the trepidation Prosper had exhibited, while constantly postponing this happy moment.

It was a rare joy to have such a hand in preparing for his own wedding. He had always believed and been told that this day would never come, that none would ever wish to marry him or claim him as their own. But Prosper did and it meant more than he could put into words to be permitted some control over their ceremony.

It was not the vampire way, but a silly instinct that most humans considered the 'female trait'. But Spencer did not much care about the intricate placements and the precision of every moment of their night; he longed to become part of the ceremony in a way that simply participating could not offer.

Knowing that he could arrange the seats to keep Sienna far away and bring his new, close friends to the front of the room, and that he could have a hand in creating the special potion that would turn him into a vampire, was almost magical. Knowing that Prosper allowed his eccentricities meant even more.

“Are you ready for this, Master? The turning is not a pretty experience. Perhaps you should rest before the ceremony?” Eamon suggested, as they put the final mixture into the ceremonial dish.

Spencer understood his concern after the explanation from Parry, but he was stronger than he looked. “I will be fine. I promise,” he vowed, appreciating the concern.

“Just remember that it is far from pleasant and you will require all the strength in your young, human body to survive,” he warned. Then, with a smile, Eamon nodded. “But, I suppose your vampire DNA may assist you. It may not be as eventful as Master Parry claims,” he soothed, with confidence in Spencer's ability to handle the situation.

It was not the turning that Spencer worried about. They were defying tradition, which required a Royal wedding to be performed in front of the entire vampire kingdom, and very possible many human guests as well. He could not have stood to see everyone staring at him and having to do everything by the book, as a Royal should. Spencer did not like following orders and Prosper, his wonderful King, had bowed to his wishes.

They would hold a private, intimate wedding here in Sienna's house and then suffer the fanfare of a large, Royal wedding once their child was born. The very thought made him touch his hand to his growing stomach.

Prosper worried too much. Though Spencer knew the logic of his concern, as turnings were never normally performed on those already bearing a child, he also understood the medical concern Parry had raised. They could not afford to wait any longer.

His need for blood had become dangerous. Spencer could feel the strength draining from his still human body every second that he did not drink from Prosper's veins; even as he stood there the weakness built until his knees shook.

Grabbing the nearby table, he held still and waited for the moment to pass.

Yes. He grew weaker by the day, emotionally and physically. Turning him was the only solution or he and the child could die. Spencer was not willing to take that risk.

And, no matter how he argued, neither was Prosper.

When Eamon turned his way, about to speak, Spencer offered a smile, kissed his cheek and lifted the final mixture in its fancy dish. He must press on, if he expected to keep his growing fatigue from Prosper, just a little longer.

Spencer carried it proudly through to the dining room, where the ceremony would take place. Parry and Davian had moved the dining table to the back of the room, to make space for the chairs and the ceremonial platform. It looked elegant.

All the servants were eager to attend and, although Sienna professed herself to never leave her room until everyone apologised to her, Spencer expected her to appear at some point, with a flare, as usual.

Prosper looked pleased as punch, as he knelt on the step of the ceremonial platform. Davian and Parry stood to one side, to bear witness, while Sienna sat prim and properly in the front row of seats. All the servants sat behind, with eager smiles and craned necks, to see every detail.

They all knew the urgency and reason for a secret marriage, to save Spencer’s life, and not one had fought Prosper's request that they never tell a living soul. The priest, once Parry took him aside, also knew the importance of the ceremony, and held no opposition to the secrecy.

Spencer stood beside Prosper, holding both hands beneath his heavy baby bump. He avoided analysing the event in favour of simply enjoying the romanticism of his King's nature; he had only agreed to this for his sake and Spencer could not have asked for more.

Parry had fashioned a loose-fitting suit for Spencer; it was black and felt like the lightest silk against his skin. He entered on Braddock's arm, until by Prosper's side.

Now, the moment he had waited his entire life for had arrived. Prosper stood and helped him kneel beside his King, as the ceremony demanded.

Finally, after the secrecy and preparation, the ceremony could begin.

“Will you join hands please?” the priest asked, as he stood in front of the couple, holding a leather tome in his hands.

Prosper turned and smiled at him, as they reached for each other. A shock of electricity travelled up Spencer's arm the moment they touched.

“We are here today to save the life of an innocent. Young Spencer has loved with a whole heart and lived a selfless existence. Now, Prosper returns that loyalty and selflessness by casting aside the traditions of his people to save the life of the man he loves,” he continued.

Spencer turned to appraise his future husband with awe. He really was quite remarkable.

The priest was quick to explain the seriousness of the situation and commence with the ceremony. “Recite the sacred words after me and we shall move on,” he asked, before beginning the ceremony proper. He stopped after every line, to allow Prosper to repeat them. “I vow my life and soul for eternity, to care and see to your every need, to ensure your safety and happiness, to always put your life before my own,” the priest said.

The look Prosper gave him, as he spoke each word the priest had said gave Spencer tingles. Once the last word was spoke, the priest dipped his finger into the small jar balanced on his open book and flicked the scented water at Prosper’s forehead.

He repeated the process with Spencer, who returned the promise and was blessed with the same water.

“You have vowed to place your life in the hands of another. You have vowed to take the life of another into your hands. These promises are unbreakable, in the eyes of the King. If any shall make these vows untrue, then justice shall be served upon you.”

The priest gave a warning that surprised Spencer. Parry had told him of the ceremony, but that little warning had been missed.

He watched the priest as he touched one hand to Prosper’s forehead and one to his own, muttering words under his breath that he only just caught. “May the strength of your people carry you through this life and into eternity. May your love for one another ensure your happiness for all time,” he whispered, then released them.

Parry took the tome and jar of water from the priest, to carry them to the back ceremonial table. He placed them down and picked up the ceremonial dish. He returned and held it to the priest, who lifted the two cups that hung from the side of the dish and dipped them in the mixture. He handed one cup to Spencer and one to Prosper.

This was it; the pivotal moment of the ceremony. As soon as he drank this, Spencer would become the King's husband, Prosper's life partner and be ready for his turning, immediately after the ceremony.

He and their baby would be safe.

He watched Prosper intently, until his King gave a nod of approval. They had to drink in sync with each other. They raised their cups in a toast, held them to their lips and nodded in agreement to drink immediately.

It was not until Spencer handed the cup back to Parry and looked up at his husband that he caught a whirlwind of motion out the corner of his eye. He saw their small audience clapping, in celebration of their union.

Prosper stood and held his hand out.

Spencer was only too happy to take it, stretching up on his tip toes to kiss his King's scarred cheek. “What was that scary part about? The 'justice shall be served upon you' part?” he asked in a whisper.

“Oh. It is a simple tradition in vampire weddings,” his husband replied, smiling and nodding to the servants as he slowly helped Spencer step down from the platform. “As the King, I am the ultimate justice to my people. If we were to turn our backs on our vows, I would be your judge,” he revealed.

“And what if you were in the wrong?” Spencer asked, challenging the small-mindedness of vampires.

“I am King.” Prosper smirked at him. “I am never wrong.”

Spencer chuckled and did not waste his breath arguing; vampires were notoriously close-minded about their King and his abilities, especially when it came to virtue and honour. But, as he knew his husband very well, he also knew that he would not need the King's justice.

Just as he would love and honour Prosper until the day he died, so too would his wonderful husband love and honour him in return.