Chapter 240
The Zenith pulled out of the hangar smooth and silent, the city opening up beyond the Citadel’s perimeter walls in a sprawl of light and movement. Daphne handled the craft with the same effortless precision she brought to everything else — one hand on the control column, eyes forward, completely at ease.
She glanced at him. A small, genuine smile crossed her face — the kind she didn’t wear often enough.
"I am surprised you do not have your own cruiser," she said. She tapped a quick sequence into the sleek center console. A soft chime echoed in the cabin, signaling the autopilot was fully engaged. "You are a prince, after all. A secret one, but still."
Daphne didn’t just sit back. She unlatched her safety harness and closed the small distance between the bucket seats, shifting her weight until she was practically draped against his side. The move was so smooth and unapologetic, exactly like her.
Zaeryn let out a short laugh, naturally wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against his hip. "Secret being the key word. I might technically be royal blood, but nobody’s handed me a title or a credit line. I take public transit like everyone else."
"That must be Athea being cautious." Daphne rested her head comfortably near his shoulder. Her cool fingers casually slipped inside the open front of his jacket to rest flat against his chest, her thumb drawing slow, absentminded circles over his shirt.
"She cannot afford to draw suspicion. A young, unescorted male suddenly living above his apparent means would attract exactly the kind of attention she has spent years avoiding."
"Yeah, well. She’s done a great job at that. I grew up completely normal." Zaeryn said, and at the same time despite the seriousness of their conversation he couldn’t help letting his hand drift lower, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her hip. Her body felt incredibly warm and soft against his, a sharp contrast to the cold precision of her words.
"Not entirely without support, though," Daphne murmured, adjusting her position slightly so her thigh pressed firmly against his. "From what I understand, Athea provided Ysmeine with enough credits that she never needed to work. Her sole responsibility was raising you."
Zaeryn went quiet for a second. His fingers stopped moving on her hip. He had never really thought about it in those terms. Ysmeine had always just been there. She was present, attentive, and never rushed or stretched thin by a stressful career. He had assumed she simply chose not to work. It hadn’t occurred to him that the choice had been quietly funded from the shadows.
"I didn’t know that," he said, his voice dropping a fraction.
"It makes sense strategically," Daphne continued. Her tone was clinical, mapping out a geopolitical chess game while her hand slid a fraction lower on his abdomen, sending a distinct jolt of heat straight to his groin. "A child raised in financial comfort but without visible wealth. No luxury that would raise questions, but nothing lacking either. You had everything a standard household would have."
Zaeryn leaned his head back against the seat, trying to focus on her words instead of the intoxicating friction of her body moving against him.
Unlike his old world, in this world there was no homelessness or poverty. No one in the Queendom actually starved or struggled to get by, because the government took care of the people equally. The hierarchy was simply built on ascending tiers of luxury.
There was the comfortable middle class, the wealthy higher class of specialists and mid tier Warladies, the elite echelon like Daphne herself, and finally, the untouchable apex of the ruling royal families.
He had grown up squarely in the middle, and until very recently, that had been perfectly fine with him.
"So she bankrolled Ysmeine quietly," he said, turning the thought over in his mind. He resumed the slow caress of her hip, his thumb grazing the edge of her tailored slacks. "Enough to live on, not enough to stand out."
"Precisely." Daphne tilted her head up, her violet eyes catching the passing neon lights. She pressed a soft, open mouthed kiss just below his jaw, her breath ghosting over his skin. "Every detail of your upbringing was likely calculated to keep you invisible."
Zaeryn let out a low breath. The touch sent a pleasant shiver right through him, effectively scattering his thoughts about politics and hidden royalty.
"But enough about all of that. Right now, I just want us to focus on this moment," she said sensually.
She didn’t pull back. She just stayed right there, tucked against him without a worry in the world about who was driving since the autopilot handled everything.
Zaeryn let out a quiet chuckle, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her fully onto his lap.
Once she was fully settled on his lap, his hand found her breast at will, gripping it firmly through the crisp fabric of her tailored blouse.
"Hmmm," Daphne arched back against him, a soft, involuntary moan slipping from her lips.
The sound was a stark contrast to the brilliant, calculating chief scientist who had just been dissecting the strategic maneuvering of his past. Right now, she was just a woman completely yielding to his touch.
Zaeryn liked this version of her just as much. He kneaded the soft mound in his palm, his thumb finding the hardening peak of her nipple and rolling it beneath the layers of her clothing. The friction drew another breathy sigh from her, and she let her head fall back against his shoulder.
She shifted her hips, settling her weight perfectly over his lap. The movement was entirely deliberate. She made sure she was pressing the seam of her slacks right against his growing erection.
"I see you are taking my advice about hands-on methodology very seriously," she murmured. Her voice was slightly thicker now, laced with a heavy dose of desire that she didn’t bother trying to hide.
"I’m a fast learner," Zaeryn replied, his voice dropping an octave. He leaned in, pressing a hot kiss to the sensitive skin just below her ear. "Especially when the instructor is this good."
Daphne let out a quiet, throaty laugh. She reached back, her cool fingers tangling in his hair as she tilted her head to give his mouth better access to her neck. The ambient blue glow of the Zenith’s control panel illuminated the cabin, casting soft shadows over her flushed skin.
Outside the tinted viewports, the sprawl of the city blurred past them, leaving them completely separated from the rest of the world in the private little universe they had just created inside the cockpit.
He slid his free hand down her side, tracing the sleek curve of her waist before settling heavily on her thigh. The material of her slacks was impossibly smooth, but he could easily feel the distinct heat of her skin radiating right through it.
This was exactly what he needed. There wasn’t a lot to worry about, and absolutely no stressful scheduling conflicts to manage. There was just the quiet, expensive hum of the vehicle and the absolute thrill of exploring the woman in his arms.
"The autopilot is set for my private residence," Daphne whispered, her violet eyes half-closed as she looked up at him. "We should be there in twelve minutes. In the meantime, keep holding me. And that is an order from your most important bondmate."
"Got it," Zaeryn said, wrapping both of his arms securely around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest.
Daphne closed her eyes, melting into him completely. The simple action told Zaeryn everything he needed to know. She had completely let her guard down. For all her daily talk about cold logic, strict efficiency, and geopolitical strategy, right here in the dark cabin, she just wanted to be held. It was a rare level of trust from a woman who spent her entire life staying perfectly in control, and he wasn’t about to take it for granted.
The rest of the ride went by much quicker than he would have liked.
The vehicle came to a smooth stop, the mag-lev coils powering down with a faint hiss. Daphne shifted her weight and reluctantly moved from his lap, taking a brief second to smooth out the crisp fabric of her blouse.
"Alright, we are here."
"Finally," Zaeryn exhaled, adjusting his own clothes before pushing himself out of the deep leather seat.
The gull-wing doors lifted, letting in the cool night air. The private landing pad sat right in front of a sprawling, aggressively modern piece of architecture that practically radiated silent wealth.
They stepped outside. Daphne didn’t bother giving him a grand tour of the exterior. She simply found his hand, lacing her fingers naturally through his.
"Let’s go inside," she said, leading the way toward the massive front doors.