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It looks like silk, knowing the Markov's it probably is. She's the most spoilt person he knows but that's probably automatic when you're talking about a princess. It takes her just as many steps to get ready for bed as it takes Addie but she does it with more expensive products. It's not that he couldn't afford to treat Adeline like a princess, he just thinks it's impractical.
A beeping begins in her room and she ignores it at first, too distracted brushing her hair to check. It's intermittent so he tries to recall back to is military training and work out what it's saying but it doesn't work.
"That morse code?" He asks her finally pulling her from her trance of fixing her hair.
"Oh that? That just plays as the final security checks are being done. I just tune it out." She gets up from her vanity to stand by the edge of the bed.
"So it's not morse code." He gets back to his original question that she neglected. She laughs.
"Of course it isn't. No one knows morse code." Slade pulls the covers back for her to get in beside him.
"Everyone should know morse code." Slade shrugs and he watches her get into bed, she's so dainty. Like she'd snap in strong breeze. Yet he knows she's tougher than that. The bruise on her neck proves him right.
"You just think that because you're an ex-soldier." She tucks herself in beside him. Undoubtedly she found the idea of sleeping in a bed with him after the act weird — it wasn't something she knew was allowed given her parents had separate bedrooms for as long as she could recall.
"It's pronounced veteran doll." He smirks, he ran on a platform that was pro-veteran, he should at least mention them fleetingly to the ambassador for US-Markovic affairs.
"Well my point is I haven't fought in a war. I don't need the morse code." She shakes her head.
"That's because you're a lady." Slade scoops her hand up off of the comforter and into his. Her skin is so smooth and soft, it's a stark contrast to his own rougher hands. It's obvious that she's never done a days work in her life.
"Not to mention the fact there's been no wars since I was born." She bites her lip when he takes her hand up and kisses it.
"No wars?"
"Not in Markovia at least." She clarifies.
"Ah yess. But darling the world doesn't revolve around your country." Slade wants to laugh at the thought that everything revolved around a tiny insignificant European country.
"My world does." She's joking, he can tell by her intonation but it's not funny, that's a weird thing about the Markov's, they don't have a normal sense of humour. He expected them to be as serious as other royals he's met, they're not but their jokes are often strange.
"Still?" He kisses along her arm. Up to her shoulder and neck. "I thought there was another country in your orbit now?"
She giggles and pulls him into her.
"Maybe." She runs her fingers through his hair. "I have had interesting talks with the president."
"Yeah?" He bites her neck, not softly but not hard enough to make her pull away. "It's the talking that did it?"
Slade slides his hands onto Tara's waist and holds her against him.
"No..." she looks at his head slowly approaching her chest. "You're bad at the talking."
Slade pulls back and looks up at her, he's not bad at the talking. It was the talking that got him elected, got him to where he is in the palace now.
"You only speak English." She's clarifies.
"You want me to learn Markovic?"
"No. How else would I talk shit about you." She laughs and he can't help but smile before going back in to bite her neck.
“You know we have a state dinner tomorrow evening.” She reminds him, he’s just hums in response. “It would be inappropriate to show up with hickeys.”
“Guess you’ll have to wear a turtleneck.” He says casually lifting her nightie up slowly
“Aren’t you tired?” She wonders, “I mean we’ve already done it… twice.”
“I’ve got a lot of stamina for an old man.” He grins at her, his stupid shit eating grin which is pasted all over his campaign merch.
“Okay one more. But then we have to sleep.”
“Alright princess.”