by Rebecca Grey
A couple of nymphs wandered down the hall, heading toward the kitchen. Our conversation paused as they passed, looking at us with cheeky smiles. When we lost sight of them, Shavarra began again.
“Dace, I think this is my place. Not to say that one day that won’t change, but right now I can’t leave. Not yet.”
I blinked, sure that she was playing a joke. Shavarra had always been there for me, and to think that I would leave her behind in a day... No, I didn’t like that.
“Are you sure?” I tried again, this time my throat felt dry.
“I’m sure. Plus, having me and Ryker together, that sounds like it could be awkward for you.”
I knew that one day I’d have to explain it all and lay everything out on the table for the both of them. But I didn’t think that would be any time soon, even if they both came with. Ryker flirted, she let me flirt back. It would take time before we were really an item. Though I wished it was sooner.
“Whenever you’re ready, Shavarra, there will always be a seat at my table for you,” I nodded, more to reassure myself than anything.
“I appreciate that,” she smiled, but tried to distance herself from me. “You better get some rest before you have to put all that work in to make mommy and daddy happy. I’ve got to hunt a room down. I’ll likely be staying in one of the keeper's quarters at this rate.”
She was right, I needed to prep myself for everything that was going to hit the fan as soon as I made it home.
This was feeling more and more like I had made the wrong choice. It’s good for the war efforts, I reminded myself. It’s who you really are. Damn, if this didn’t feel like some sort of identity crisis.
“Fine, yes, you’re right. As usual,” I hummed, shrugging my shoulders and backing away from her. “The keeper's rooms are down that way and to the right,” I sang, pointing down the hall.
She made a vulgar gesture and turned the way I suggested, leaving me alone. These were confusing times, but I had the feeling that everything was still going to work out in the end. Cleary, we weren’t there yet, and I hadn’t a clue how they were going to work out, but like everything else I do, winging it typically worked.
I followed the hallways filled with nymphs drifting about their business until I found my way back to my room. Pushing open the door, I turned abruptly to the figure perched on my bed. Ryker had her legs crossed under her, one of the books I had been reading on and off in my free time propped in one hand, and what looked like a muffin in the other.
With a mouth full of food she looked up, “It took you so long that I ate the muffin I brought you.”
Instantly, I wanted to run my fingers through the curls she had left loose down her back. My tongue ran over my front teeth as I suppressed the urge to laugh. “What are you doing in my humble abode?”
Quietly, I thanked the gods that I had done some version of picking up after myself. I’d even taken the time to somewhat make the bed, though I’ll admit it didn’t look as good as when the servants back home did it.
“I’ve come to tell you that I’m coming with you.”
Stay calm, Dace. Fucking keep it cool. My hands rubbed together in front of me as I walked over to the small couch I often read at and leaned against the back so I could face her.
“I thought you might.” I ran my hand over the end table. A small envelope waited there with my name elegantly written across the front. My family's seal closed the back of it, and I looked up at Ryker, confused. “What’s this?”
She closed the book, keeping her finger in the pages to hold her spot. “Haven't a clue, it was there when I got here.”
Though I knew it was likely delivered by an assassin or the messenger who had visited, I still walked quietly to the window and tested the lock.
“Is it bad?” she asked.
Since when is anything that concerned my parents good? Apart from getting my entire fortune and reign back, of course. I turned the letter over and over in my hands, wondering if I should read it now.
“Do you want me to leave?” Ryker started to stand, still holding the novel.
“No, no,” I waved. “Please, stay.” My fingers still trembled from the excitement of her agreement to come to the Twinity Court. It felt like all those visions would finally start to come true. Cracking the wax, I pulled the envelope open as I sat on the edge of the bed.
Dace,
Because you are my son, I hope that this letter finds you well enough. I’m reaching out to advise you that your promise to me must be kept, and that I expect your end of the bargain to be upheld immediately. Wear your best suit, and arrive no later than seven for your reinstatement and bridal proposition. Don’t disappoint me again.
Love, your still reigning queen,
Mother
Though she didn’t have to specify, it didn’t surprise me that she had felt the need to remind me of her title. She had lorded her power over me since the day I was born. I swear as an infant she was singing me songs about how she brought me into this world and, should I be anything less than she expected, she was going to take me out. Is that not what typical mothers do? No? Just my psychotic one. And yet, she was somehow fit to wear the crown.
Dread built in my stomach, like the bubbling of a meal that was about to set my asshole on fire. I’d successfully avoided a bridal proposition since I was eighteen. Always a pressing matter, but never one that was urgent enough to evoke real action, other than snide comments from my mother. Now the day was approaching, tomorrow in fact, that I would be presented with options that I was expected to choose from.
Mother was tricky like that. The image of Ryker appeared on the inside of my eyelids, a memory of a vision of what was to come. An oxymoron, if I ever heard one.
“What does it say?” She tried not to lean too close, to look over my shoulder, but she couldn’t hide the spark of curiosity in her eyes. I hadn’t noticed how close she had grown as I focused on the letter.
“It says that I’ll have to make arrangements for your travel. Hope you don’t mind if I talk to daddy dearest so you can try some travel manipulation yourself. Oh, and you’ll need to pack one of those dresses you have hiding in your room.” I smiled back, as her cheeks bloomed red. I hoped she’d never quit getting flushed like that around me, I loved it so much and currently, it was just so easy to get her to do. “I have a feeling there may be one in there, a lovely blush color, made of silk, that would just look absolutely stunning.”
“When should I be ready?” she said, quietly.
“Tomorrow morning, I expect that you’ll receive the full princess treatment once you arrive as my guest, and you’ll need time for all the pampering they’ll do to you. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it, and not hate me for all they’ll put you through.”
Her laugh echoed my own. “I better go back to my room, then.” She jumped from the bed and sprinted to the door. Before she disappeared she grimaced and added, “One more thing, maybe do try and steer clear of Daethian, he didn’t exactly take the news well.”
“I mean, I would say ‘I told you so’, but it seems you’ve already gotten that point.” I set the letter down on the bed and took in her sun-kissed face.
“Just avoid him. Okay?” Her fingers drummed against the door frame.
“Got it.”
I didn’t come all the way to the Heathern Court to spend time with Daethian anyway. Avoiding him will be the easiest task I’d ever been assigned. Though, I’d do almost anything Ryker asked, to be quite honest. She wanted someone to dance around like a monkey to entertain the nymphs? Damn, call me her baboon. I was smitten.
FIFTEEN
Milo
Blood ran down her back where her skin had split open. A zigzag pattern of welts and cuts weaved over the top of old scars. Scarlet had long since seeped into the carpet and soaked into the thin cloth of her pants and torn shirt.
Sweat drenched my top as I panted and curled the whip up in my hand. Windre hardly even watched. Instead, he disappeared behind me and pi
cked up the book he had been reading. It made sense if this was an everyday occurrence and he was bored with it.
“Fifty,” Red sobbed, falling forward and curling into a ball with a pain-filled moan.
Windre’s book clapped shut. The chains of the prisoner, because that was a better word for him than servant, in the corner chimed as Windre pulled the boy up to stand. “Show the girl where we keep the cleaning supplies. She can clean up her mess.”
I doubted any cleaning concoction he has could help pull the color of her blood from his ancient looking rug. But who knew? Maybe he had a cleanser with a little bit of witch magic in it. Something like that had to be at play here. Witch magic. How else were they able to suppress the nymph’s powers like they are?
“You know,” I leaned against one of the bookshelves, rubbing my shoulder with the opposite arm. “I was wondering about the Day of Ruin. I never understood how it really happened.”
“How what happened?” Windre arched a brow, his mouth pulled in a deep frown.
“How exactly were we able to nullify their powers?”
Red and the other nymph limped together out the door, but I could feel her attention snag at my words. They didn’t know either. I mean, I guess, they couldn’t know or they would have somehow reversed the effects.
Windre laughed heartily. “That, I’m afraid, is above your paygrade. What are you, even? A simple mutt? A keeper?”
I watched as the pair left the room, blood trailing behind Red. How she was even standing at all was a credit to her mental strength. This visit was going to be twenty times harder for her because she was so strong willed.
“Keeper,” I muttered. “Well if you won’t answer me that, can you at least give me a little insight as to how you’ll break her of her strong will?”
“Simple,” he finally smiled, a long, face-splitting grin, revealing an entire mouthful of teeth. “Make her life so miserable and lonely here that the thought of serving as a maid or a stable hand, or whatever the fuck her job was, sound like a damn vacation. She won't step out of line again when I’m done with her.”
“And what if she’s stubborn?”
“Oh, even the stubborn break at some point,” he whispered.
Both nymphs finally entered the room, the boy from the corner carried nearly everything as he dragged Red in behind him. Her face was tear streaked and swollen. Her eyes never reached mine.
I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way she ignored me instead of taunting me with her mean and clever tongue. And I didn’t like the fact that I didn’t like that more than anything else.
She’s just a nymph. She’s just a pawn in someone else's game. Red is nobody and nothing to you. If I could, I would have slapped myself right then to knock the thoughts right of my dumb, thick skull. But even whipping her hadn’t brought me the same sort of joy I thought it might.
“We can leave this mess to those two and my keepers can watch over them if you would like to return to your room and clean up. We will be having dinner soon.”
“And what of her once the mess is clean? Where will she go? Sorry for the questions, but her misery is partially in my charge as well, and I’d hate to disappoint King Ottack.” I watched Red as every movement she made caused her face to scrunch up. Then my gaze flipped back toward King Windre, who looked annoyed that I even bothered to ask.
“She’ll go down to the dungeons, of course.”
“I’m sure I can expect to see where she is being kept.”
“Certainly,” Windre purred, pulling himself away from the wall and walking out the door. In the hallway he snapped his fingers, beckoning one of the fae guards forward, a slender man with large, black reptilian wings. He looked fae, he smelled like fae. I didn’t want to gawk at the rarity of it, but I hadn’t seen a fae with wings in my entire lifetime.
“Jerydin, can you please show our guest to his room?” Windre glared down the tip of his long nose as he passed me off to the fae guard.
The man, Jerydin, nodded. It wasn’t until I looked at him, and not just his wings, that I noticed how large his eyes actually were. It was almost unsettling. Maybe it was a trait that came with the wings. Something to counteract the attraction the wings created.
Jerydin didn’t speak, but walked quickly. I averted my gaze to the floor, the walls, or the ceiling to keep him from feeling the heat of my attention on his spectacular wings. Damn, I wish I could fly. The more I focused on the ground, the more I noticed the red splatters that dotted the floors here or there. So much for making them clean up after themselves, someone had sprayed all sorts of fluid through these halls.
I’d seen many things in my time working under Queen Atarah, but it didn’t give me the same feeling that I had while I was here. While I still loathed being bound to her, I had found joy in my work. There was something in the air here, something that felt like a lie. Something Windre said, or maybe it was this Jerydin character that was giving me a reaction. My gut, that wasn’t often mistaken, knew something here was fake. I just needed to figure out what. I’m sure the news would please King Ottack, or even better, Princess Maggie.
The fae stopped outside a door without a word. I stopped walking to look at him, then at the doorway. “Oh, is this supposed to be me?”
He nodded.
“Thank you.” I brushed past him and into the room. If I had thought that my arrangments as a guard were nice, then this was absolutely fucking spectacular. This room was fit for a king. Wait.. was I in the wrong room? I turned, but the door had been shut behind me. Guess it’s mine.
A huge four-post bed with sinful red sheets sat as the centerpiece. Large orange and brown sitting pillows were scattered around the floor. Even the lighting was dim, making it look this room would be great for an orgy. I mean, pillows everywhere.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. What the hell was I thinking? A good place for an orgy? What had gotten into me? It had been years since I had a good orgy, but I hardly thought this was the place or time for it.
A double door sat propped open to the right of the bed, leading off into the bathroom. I hummed, trying to pull my head out of the gutter. I didn’t know it was possible for a bedroom to turn someone on, but here the fuck I was, getting a hard on from this set up.
Walking into the bathroom, I expected something like the showers or large tubs that I'd seen already in this realm. This bathroom was different. It wasn’t a tub, it was a whole freaking swimming pool. Steam rolled off the clear water. With a chuckle, I pulled my shirt off over my head and shimmied out of my pants.
The boner I’d gotten was not easing, if anything, this ridiculous bathroom was going to make it worse. I mean, I am alone. Breathing a sigh of contentment at finally being without the restrictive clothing, I tiptoed into the pool. The water lapped against my dirty skin. I hadn’t been very fit to be in the presence of a king upon my arrival.
I reclined against the steps, my sinner hand drifting to my cock. My gaze shifted from side to side, nervous, for whatever reason, that I was not alone. My eyelashes fluttered against my cheeks as I began stroking from base to tip. Images already littered my thoughts. A memory of what it felt like to rock my hips into a woman’s wet sex. I groaned as mild pleasure built. The speed of my hand quickened.
Oh, I missed the warmth of a woman, but for now this would have to do. The friction of my hand was uncomfortable, so I cracked an eye and reached for a jar of soap that sat near the edge. It poured out readily into my hand and created an easy foam to rub against my cock. I let out a trembling breath and cozied back into my lounging position.
Picture after picture came to mind. Memories of the orgy the room so easily reminded me of. And other images, too. The swish of black hair, a snarl that somehow still hinted at humor. An uninvited kiss that felt too good to be true.
Pleasure overtook me in wave after wave as my hand pumped up and down, my hips moving of their own accord with the motion. Cum poured out of me, thick and creamy across my fingertips and dripping
over my lower stomach. At the peak of the orgasm was the memory of Red’s body pressed against mine in her first escape attempt. Her sly, knowing smile as I gripped her to me and threatened her.
I coughed, looking down at myself. Something was wrong with me. Maybe I just needed something to take off the edge. I’m sure Windre’s court had prostitutes or something of that nature. That’s all I needed. Some good cunt and I’d be well on my way to sanity again.
A few towels lay folded, waiting to dry me. One would have to be good enough to be my cum rag. Oh, the joy the nymphs would have when they cleaned my room later. Though I tried not to think too hard on that, praying it wouldn’t be Red who found the soon-to-be crunchy towel. Of all things, that might be the first here to actually embarrass me. I’m sure she would have something to say about it. She always had something to say.
Tossing the towel toward the corner of the room, I dunked my head under the surface and began scrubbing my body. If only baths could scrub away all of our sins. What a shame my soul had to reside in this meaty, lustful, shell of a man.
Once I was satisfied that the dirt and grime I had accumulated since leaving the Obtune Court was thoroughly washed away, I climbed from the pool. Water dripped off of me, creating a small puddle at my feet as I ran a towel over my skin. The material soaked up most of the moisture, leaving me only mildly damp as I drifted from the bathroom. The bag that I had brought had been carried in from our wagon at some point. It rested near the bed. Another uniform waited for me inside. Quietly, my mind drifted over all the dirty thoughts that still tormented my mind while I dressed. I gave the room one last look, sighing, knowing that there would not be any orgies in this room while I stayed here.
Trying to divert my mind to the idea of dinner with King Windre, I opened the door. In the hallway, I turned to find Jerydin waiting for me. Had I known the man was going to stand outside my door until I was ready for dinner, maybe I wouldn’t have taken the time to jiggle the jewelry, if you get my drift.
