Bicorn Boyfriend: Torvald 2 (special preivew)

I once read that Unicorns eat the hearts of the guilty while Bicorns eat the flesh of the innocent. Something about it confused me in my youth. Why the heart? Why the flesh? It wasn’t until I grew up that I realized a guilty heart is tender from neglect and the flesh is rotten, while the flesh of the innocent is tender and sweet, while the heart is tough and strong. I was told that Unicorns and Bicorns were hunted long ago, because their horns were extremely valuable. I think they were hunted out of fear and the horns became a byproduct. Looking at Torvald, I wonder if he has eaten the flesh of innocent men.

The wedding is barely a ceremony, it is more like a business transaction than anything. I sign my name to a piece of paper and I am given a necklace bearing the Rothschild crest. Carmine has a new father, and I have a new husband. Although, we will only be coupled when we share a bed together.

The day of our wedding, Torvald does seem to show something of a heart. He bought me and Carmine matching dresses, and provided a wonderful meal before the paper was signed. He gave Carmine a wonderful nursery filled to the brim with everything she could ever want or need during her first few years. He hired a small staff of wonderful nannies and nurses that would look after her while we had our supposed honeymoon.

He took me further north to a chateau he shared with his two younger brothers. It was big enough I could escape him if I wanted, and I suppose he could hide from me if he liked. The place was rather stark, almost everything was completely black and white.

“It was all we could agree upon, since we all three had to share it,” Torvald tells me. “My brothers and I have varying taste.”

“Do either of them have anything else to offer besides a cold shoulder?” I remove layers of fur and warm clothing.

Torvald laughs. “My shoulder will not be cold tonight, my bride.”

I cannot help but roll my eyes at him. I continue to look around the ice covered chateau, finding very little personality within the place. I come across Torvald later in a room that is all white from floor to ceiling, except for the fireplace which is like an iris in the eye, the pupil enlarged with joy, burning with passion.

He’s sitting in a high back chair, lounging and drinking a wine that is almost black. He barely acknowledges me as I walk into the room.

“Should we have dinner or perhaps just get the evening over with?” Torvald asks.

I sit down beside him in another white chair. I feel rather garish in my blue dress amongst all the white. “Are you so eager?”

“Rosemund, my bride, I may not believe love has a purpose, but I do know a man and woman can still enjoy their moments together.” He takes his breath in slow and purposeful, breathing it out slow before drawing another sip of wine to his lips. “I’m not sure which I like most, this wine, or the taste of a woman’s heat.”

I arch my brows. “Are you trying to excite me?”

“I will not fit without you being wet and eager, Rosemund,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “I do not want this to be a painful experience for either of us.”

“Until the baby,” I correct him.