The Plan Commences Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
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“I have also ordered your draught,” he told her.

“Oh,” she whispered, getting that quicksilver look in her eyes he was becoming accustomed to and liked very much.

This time he liked it for the same reasons as he always did, including the fact it shared how much she liked his weight on her.

“It will be your third dose,” he reminded her.

“Oh.” She continued to whisper, now shifting under him in a way his cock took notice.

“I do not tire of your hands or your mouth, my queen.” He dipped his head so his lips were nearly on hers, and whispered, “But I wish to come inside.”

“Oh,” she breathed, that lovely syllable hardening his shaft fully, and as she’d earned it, he pressed it against her leg and the noise came again. “Oh.”

He grinned, brushed his lips to hers and rolled, pulling her fully on top of him.

She looked adorably dazed as he stated, “First caffé and rolls.”

She then appeared adorably perturbed and he found he could not stop smiling that morning.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and asked, “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “Did you?”

“Oh yes.”

Her little white teeth came out and scored her lower lip, her eyes telling him her thoughts were on why they both slept so well, and he wondered how discomfited she would get if the maid served their rolls while his mouth was between her legs.

“What are the different stamps for?”

Her bizarre question effectively took his mind from her taste.

“Sorry?”

“You have two stamps on your desk in your quarters upstairs in your palace. Stamps for sealing letters. One is a snake. The other is a lick of fire.”

It would seem she wished to get to know him better in ways that did not make him groan.

He like that very much too.

His wife had not asked much about him. They not only had not had the time, when they did, she’d had other things plaguing her mind.

Mars had not realized, until that moment, that he’d felt it hurtful that she had not.

“I wasn’t snooping,” she said quickly. “I saw them that night that I was, uh…”

“There is nothing of me you cannot know,” he said gently.

The worry transforming her features disappeared.

“And nothing of me you cannot ask,” he went on.

“Thank you, husband,” she said softly.

“The snake is for personal matters. The fire is official,” he shared.

“And the wax?”

“The wax?”

“You have four colors of wax. Green, red, black and gold.”

He found this question intensely interesting.

“You remember well matters which are not significant,” he noted.

“Everything about you is, um…significant.”

This made Mars growl again, give her a squeeze and he lifted his head to press a hard kiss on her mouth.

When he settled back, she’d assumed her slightly dazed look, and it was then he gave her answers, doing so settling into the knowledge that his Silence might not have asked, but from nearly the beginning, she’d been interested in knowing her king.

“The green is for personal correspondence. The black indicates military matters. The gold is a royal summons. The red is governmental. Such as endorsements. Sanctions. Proclamations. In short, general, but official, correspondence from the king.”

“That’s very…orderly,” she remarked, and he again grinned.

“For a savage?” he teased.

“No, Mars,” she said. “But maybe…yes.”

“It was all red under my grandfather’s reign,” he explained. “It was my father who created the system.”

“But…why?” she asked.

“Why?”

“Every missive from a king is important,” she explained.

“It is, amore, and none of this indicates that it should be ignored. But the clans, specifically, and some tribes, have structures. There are barons, but in many cases, they will have a man that is head of their warriors. They will have another man, or sometimes a woman, who is in charge of sharing information with their people. They will further have a secretary who handles their diary. Gold will be opened by secretaries. Black should be seen by no one but the chieftain, baron or their top general. Red would be understood to bear information that will be distributed. It allows leaders to delegate and it makes the demands of a king seem less demanding, even if they are still demands.”

“That is very clever,” she murmured.

“My father was that,” he replied.

“You speak of him with much respect,” she said searchingly.

“I wish you would have known him. He would have come to care for you greatly.”

This brightened her eyes exorbitantly. “Do you think?”

For the first time that morning, Mars did not feel bright, for the fact she asked that question like it was impossible for her to believe his remark, did not make him feel bright in the slightest.

He did not comment on this.

He’d deal with her father, and her mother, at another time.

He answered, “Papa suffered no fool. He was well-read. And he, like you, valued silence and listening over pontificating. When he spoke, people listened, not only because of his manner, but because I cannot say I know of a time when he spoke just to speak instead of speaking when he had something important to say.”


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