When the Night Falls: A Day At Court
Author
Nureyluna
Reads
73,5K
Chapters
15
It’s been five years since we took over the throne of France.
Every day we’ve ruled, my love for Theodore has only grown stronger.
But lately, the pressures of royal life have kept us apart.
It’s driving me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about him.
His sculpted muscles. His knife’s edge jawline. His delicious cock.
I’ve started pining for any way to get some one-on-one time.
So when mass protests erupt throughout Paris, I seize my opportunity.
I’m going to finally claim some time alone with my king.
A “When The Night Falls” novella.
Age Rating: 18+
Chapter 1
JASMINE
Protest: a statement or action expressing disapproval of or objection to something.
My eyes fluttered open to the warm sunlight now beginning to stream through the window. I inhaled deeply and started to roll over, but realized I was nestled deeply in Theodore’s arms.
I smiled gently, watching as his eyes began to open, too. Wordlessly, he pulled me somehow even closer to him, and I felt his morning hardness pressed firmly against me. I had dreamt about him all night and was already slightly wet. This was confirmation that he’d probably been dreaming about me, too.
Feeling him sent tingles between my legs, and he noticed.
“Good morning, my love,” he whispered, grinning. He knew what he was doing. He always did. And it still made me blush.
“Good morning,” I replied, letting my gaze drift beneath the sheets.
Theo pulled me on top of him, kissing my lips and my neck. I loved the smell of him in the morning; always so warm and with the faintest smell of his cologne, mixed with the Egyptian cotton of our sheets.
“How did you sleep?” he whispered into my ear, as if he knew I’d dreamt of him all night. He shifted me so that my legs wrapped around his thigh, and my wetness grazed his skin.
“Hmm… pretty good…” I giggled.
“Pretty good?” he asked, letting his hand travel further down my back.
“Mhm,” I moaned as his other hand squeezed my butt cheek, “And you?”
“I slept well. But I’m much happier now that I’m awake,” he muttered, slipping his hand into my underwear. Goosebumps erupted all over my legs and arms.
“My love,” I giggled again, reaching for his hand, “We can’t…”
Theo pulled me closer to his face, his eyes now gazing deeply into mine. A smirk crawled onto his lips as he took in every inch of my face.
“Why not? The kids are at camp.”
He looked so handsome—his eyes were passionate and yearning. There was no way I was turning this down. Not with what I knew could come next.
“True,” I smiled, leaning back in for more. Truthfully, save Thea and Emrich, there was almost nothing that could get me out of bed when I woke up in his arms, and so aware of his member.
His tongue sailed into mine, deep exhales in rhythm with my own. I groaned with pleasure as his lips pillowed against my neck, then my collarbone. I was pulsating beneath the silk of my underwear.
I wanted him.
As if reading my mind, he slid my body upward, so that I straddled his hips. I let my nails trail against his perfectly sculpted abdomen, then he wove his fingers between mine, moving up and down the contours of his muscles.
“I want you to put me where you want me,” he groaned, eyeing the subtle wetness between my legs. I flattened my fingers between his, then placed them on top of my clit.
I looked down at him; he loved to watch me as he touched me. It never failed to send a surge of warmth all throughout my body.
He drew small circles on the outside of the material, tantalizing me, and I let out a moan. Slowly, he used his index and middle finger to gently pull down the silk, exposing me to him, and I watched as he licked his lips.
I needed him inside me.
“Theo,” I gasped.
But I was met with a knock at the door.
“My Queen?” Pierre’s voice came through the crack.
My eyes shot to Theo, who quickly leaned up and planted a kiss on my forehead.
“She’ll be just a moment!” he called out, knowing I was probably still catching my breath. Our time together was cut short. Brushing off my frustration, I crawled out of bed and threw on my clothes.
I walked toward the door, shooting Theo a look as if to say “I’m sorry” and “thank you” all at once. He waved me off, smiling.
“Yes, Pierre?” I asked as he bowed to me.
“Your highness, your appointment at the orphanage in Paris to discuss the post-fire rebuilding is approaching. Your car will be here for you in the front drive in a half hour,” he said, clearly avoiding eye contact with whatever was visible in our room through the crack in the door.
He continued, “Shall I—?”
“I’ll meet you out there, Pierre. Thank you,” I replied. He bowed once more then brisked back down the hallway.
I turned to Theo, who still had the remnants of a smirk on his face. I knew a small part of him took a little bit of gratification in watching me do my Queenly duties, knowing that moments before he’d been on the edge of deeply pleasuring me.
“I’m so sorry. I’d love nothing more than to continue.” I pouted.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know how important this is to you. Come on, we still have a few minutes to at least cuddle,” he replied.
He gazed into my eyes for a moment, and I knew that in them something suggested we weren’t finished. “Later?” he asked, smiling.
Another wave of desire crept up into my stomach, shooting butterflies in all of its corners. Not only was I married to the most kind and understanding man, I was married to the sexiest one, too.
“Later,” I promised, winking, though all I wanted to say was now.
I crawled into bed, resting my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around my waist. Reaching for the remote control on our nightstand, he turned on the television. News reports consumed every channel we flipped through.
I had recently heard quite a bit about the new pro-Republic party who wanted to do away with the crown, and it seemed like now all of the airtime was going to them. At first, I hadn’t stressed about it too much. Everyone at Versailles seemed to be of the opinion that they would eventually fizzle out.
We listened for a moment, the reports feeling a bit darker and heavier now, and a tense silence crept up between us.
“Theo, do you think things will escalate with this group? I mean… is it crazy to think that maybe someday there could be another attempted coup? Like with King Louis XVI?” I asked, unsure of whether or not I sounded too jarred.
“I don’t know, my love. I’m not entirely sure,” he replied, pensively shaking his head.
This wasn’t necessarily the answer I’d been hoping for, and I was at a loss for words. My eyes drifted to the little clock in the upper hand corner of the news channel, and I realized I only had a few minutes to be outside.
“Shit!” I called out, and quickly kissed Theodore goodbye, my questions left unanswered.
***
I knew my work was just as important as Theo’s, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for having to leave so much lately. My work really excited me, but so did the idea of staying back home, loving on my husband and spending quality time with him.
The driver held the door of the limo open for Pierre and me. As we stepped inside, I was relieved to see two cups of iced coffee waiting in the cupholders of the center stationary table. I didn’t have any time for breakfast, but I really needed to be sharp.
Pierre did not drink iced coffee until he met me— the French were not typically fans. But he couldn’t resist my signature style— fresh vanilla cream, shaken, with a dash of cinnamon.
Handing me my notes, Pierre began to brief me on the state of the orphanage.
When I became Queen, I wanted the larger portion of my work to be about helping families, particularly children, in need. I didn’t want my sole purpose to be planning luxurious events and galas for other stuffy aristocrats. With great power, came great responsibility, and I was fortunate enough to be able to decide what that responsibility would be.
A couple of weeks ago in Paris, Espoir Orphanage had burnt down, leaving over fifty orphans in jeopardy of losing their home. Though I already had quite a bit on my plate, and various charities I had been spearheading, there was no way I would be able to ignore this.
The idea that so many innocent souls had to live without, when we had more than enough to give, made me realize that maybe they didn’t have to. We planned to rebuild the entire building and even greatly upgrade it.
“You still want to meet with the children, no?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. I want to hear their opinions on the rebuilding; I want to know what they have and don’t have, what they need, what they want,” I replied.
Pierre looked at me with a bit of surprise before realizing who he was talking to, and nodded. Since ascending the throne, I had quickly realized that it was not common for adults in the castle to consider the ideas and wants of children.
That was something else I was slowly starting to change. I didn’t want to solely meet with the caretakers and coordinators. My heart ached at the thought of my own children being in a position like that, and how I would hope those in any position of power would give them as much consideration as I planned to give these children.
I slid my sunglasses onto my face and breathed as I anticipated what each child would be like. I smiled to myself, imagining Thea and Emrich playing joyfully with all of them, when the sound of the radio seized my attention:
In a new poll, the pro-Republic political party known as La Assemblée Républicain, has recently become the largest party in the parliament. Objectively, they seek to do away with the crown. This has left many of France’s citizens wondering when and if--
Pierre leaned up, tapping the driver to signal him to turn the radio off. Over the years, he had developed a sixth sense for this kind of thing and knew that whatever they were saying on the air right now would only increase my anxiety. But it was a bit too late.
As we pulled toward the gates of the orphanage, we found them already ajar. One by one, people of all ages ran alongside the limousine. Some held signs, others made gestures into the air, and some yelled with large bullhorns, amplifying their voices.
They held signs, most of which evidently stating their opposition to the crown.
We had just pulled into a full-on protest.
How did they know we were coming? How did they beat us here? Being a royal meant that the second I stepped foot off of the palatial property, I was liable to be approached, stalked, followed, gawked at, stared at, photographed, harassed—the list goes on. If it weren’t for our security, I would probably never leave the castle at all.
It was clear that these protestors hated the monarchy. This wasn’t necessarily news to me, but it was something I had hoped we could come to some mutual conclusion on if things were to potentially escalate. I had never been a confrontational person, and I had to learn to cope.
I couldn’t blame anyone for despising the old ways of the monarchy; I myself had had no smooth ride of my own with the royal family. I had personally experienced and bore witness to their sometimes evil and scheming ways.
If only they knew how badly I was trying to fix it.
“My Queen,” the driver urgently began, “They are refusing to permit us entry, they—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a large group of people began surrounding our vehicle. Our windows were extremely tinted, so they couldn’t see in, but their hands slapped onto the glass, beating the doors and ripping at the handles.
My heart raced as the car stood idle, unable to move. Not because I felt like I was in danger, but because I felt so stuck. I wanted to reach out, to make contact with them.
Their voices rang in my ears, shouting words that I knew they had every right to stand by. A part of me was moved by their dedication and their drivenness. But they had no idea who Theo and I were, or what we were about. How serious we were about changing the very structure and purpose of the crown. I yearned to tell them.
“Madame, I think it’s best we leave it be for today. They are completely halting our entry,” Pierre urged.
“Pierre, we can’t let this stop us. We had to have partially expected something like this. I have to talk to them, I can’t just flee like some coward,” I confessed.
“I am no consultant, your highness, but please—” he began to stutter before his phone rang. Theo was calling him.
“H-hello?” he answered, his voice wavy with stress from the chaos happening just inches away from us. I looked at him with wide, curious eyes as I heard the muffled sound of my husband’s very alarmed sounding voice.
“Yes, my King,” he replied. Though Theo could not even see him, I noticed he still gave a subtle bow of his head.
“What is it, Pierre?” I asked him, waving my hand a little to speed him along. We were in no position to dawdle.
“King Theodore. He wants to see you at the palace. Now.”
