Chapter 253: The Queen Goes Out
The Knights’ section of the estate baked under the afternoon sun. On the open lawn, the five men moved in a tight, brutal circle, bare-handed and sweating. Lancelot stood at the center, calling out combinations and corrections while the others traded heavy strikes, takedowns, and submissions.
The training was not polite. Elbows found ribs. Shoulders drove into chests. The sound of bodies hitting the grass carried across the yard. The way the Knights were training, it seemed like they were trying to kill each other. The intensity was all over the place and none of them held back.
Gawain broke the rhythm first. He wiped blood from his split lip with the back of his wrist and straightened. He looked over at Lancelot and it was quite clear in his eyes that he wasn't happy with their current situation.
“We’re rotting in this house,” he said, loud enough for all of them to hear. “Drills and more drills. When do we actually move? The coup isn’t going to plan itself. I’m tired of waiting.”
Lancelot’s expression went flat. He closed the distance in two strides and took Gawain hard to the ground. The younger Knight fought back with real intent—hooks, a knee, an attempt to reverse—but Lancelot was heavier, faster, and angrier. He locked Gawain down, forearm across the throat just short of true damage, and spoke through clenched teeth.
He seemed like he wanted to kill him, but he held him down and pressed him hard to the ground.
“You never speak of that inside these walls again. Not where ears can reach. Not where one wrong word gets every one of us killed. Am I clear?”
Gawain’s face was red, but he managed a short nod. Lancelot released him and stood.
“Training’s over. Inside. Clean up. Now.”
The other Knights filed off toward the barracks without comment. Lancelot remained on the lawn a moment longer, breathing hard, then looked toward the courtyard. Carla stood in the shade of a stone archway, arms loose at her sides, watching him, watching them. Their eyes met. She turned and walked away.
After a brief hesitation, he followed. She led him to the old greenhouse at the rear of the Knights’ grounds. The more she moved, the faster her followed, almost like she was a beacon pulling him closer to her direction.
The air inside the greenhouse was warm and humid, thick with the smell of soil, tomato vines, and damp glass. Sunlight filtered green through the panels. Once the door shut behind them, she turned and folded her arms.
“What was that with your man? Why were you trying to rip his head off? Did he say something about your weird scar?”
“Oh, you got jokes, huh?" Lancelot smirked. "It was nothing. We were just training,” Lancelot said.
“Training? It looked like a real fight to me... and I know what those look like. I've been in a few myself.”
“That’s just how Knights train. We don't play around with increasing our strength and durability. We’re bred for war…” He stepped closer. “…and domination.”
The last word hung between them. He closed the remaining space, one hand finding her waist, the other bracing against the glass wall as he pushed her back into it. She didn't try to resist him or even push him away. She just waited for him to make his move...and he made it.
The kiss was aggressive, all teeth and urgency. Carla answered it with equal force, fingers digging into his shoulders. They were so ferocious with each other, pushing and shoving, pinching and biting, moaning and groaning, and they had barely even started.
He turned her, worked her trousers down, and freed himself, ready to dive into her. He seemed so eager to begin, and she seemed equally as eager to have him inside her.
When he pushed into her from behind, she bit back a sharp sound that still escaped. They moved hard and fast against the glass, breath loud in the humid air, the structure creaking faintly under the force. He started moving in and out of her, and the sounds of their enjoyment filled the space around them. However, it did not last long.
Lancelot finished with a low groan and pulled back. For a short while, the only sound was their breathing and the soft drip of condensation somewhere in the greenhouse. Despite how quickly it ended, it was still exhilarating for them both and it felt like they ought to go again.
He spoke first, voice still rough. “You know, as much as I enjoy the few times we've done this, I'm going to need a little more."
"What do you mean more? If you're implying that you want to fuck me in the ass, just know that that's never going to happen." She said sternly, pulling up her pants and arranging her hair.
Her comment forced a chuckle out of Lancelot.
"No, that's not it. When are you going to let me take you on a real date?”
Carla adjusted her shirt with short, precise movements. “Don’t start this now, Knight. This is just sex. Nothing else, nothing more. Let's try and keep it that way.”
Before he could answer, her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen, answered, listened, then ended the call.
“Carolina wants me. We’re going out.”
She left the greenhouse without looking back. Lancelot stayed where he was and watched her walk toward the main house until she disappeared from view.
Not long after, a black bulletproof SUV rolled toward the front gates. Carolina sat in the rear passenger seat, Carla beside her, two additional guards in the vehicle for protection. The gates opened. The SUV turned onto the main road and settled into traffic.
As they moved along the road, Carla had her eyes fixed ahead, watching like a hawk. However, she failed to notice what was behind them.
Two other cars pulled out from side streets a short distance behind them and matched their speed, staying just far enough back to look ordinary. Their presence was anything but friendly.
Whoever they were, they wanted something from Carolina Rossi, and well, they intended to get it.