Goldy: A Reverse Harem Fairytale Romance Series (The Happily Never After Series Book 2)
Page 7
Ladyship? Ha. I’m pretty much the furthest thing from a lady this woman is ever likely to see. And that begs another question: why is Leith still trying to be kind to me? I’ve done nothing to warrant it, in fact I’ve done exactly the opposite. I should be chained to the pillar in the courtyard again, if nothing else.
“I’m fine, and I can bathe myself. Thanks, though.”
I will probably need help into the dress, admittedly. It looks more elaborate than my traveling gear, and I am still aching after my time in the maze.
“And your dress?” she asks.
“Yes, I could use help with that,” I answer and drop the covers at last, figuring she’ll see my nudity since she’s going to have to help me into the dress. I hobble over to the bath and carefully unwind the bandages covering most all of me. When I take them off, I’m surprised to see that I’m fairly healed all over. So maybe Leith did feed me more of the Ambrosia than I’d thought?
I seat myself in the hot water which feels like heaven as I settle into it and pick up the sponge. I scrub at the blood that’s leaked through my bandages and the stuff that no one bothered to clean off.
“There’s soap for your hair on the other side of your bath, mistress,” Celesse says.
I glance over the lip of the tub and spot it immediately. I lather up my hands and after dunking my head back into the tub, I lather up my hair and give it a good washing. Once I rinse the suds away, I feel like a new person.
“Better, mistress?” Celesse asks.
“So much better,” I answer as I offer her a smile and stand up, allowing myself to drip dry while Celesse dutifully retrieves a towel from the far side of the room and places it in my outstretched palm and watches as I pat myself dry.
When I step out of the bath, she moves to help me into the dress. I want to protest, but it’s pretty obvious I’m going to need help. Even in perfect health, I’m not sure if I’d be able to get myself into the complicated looking thing. So, I hold still as she first helps me into a weird looking contraption she calls a corset. She wraps it around my middle and tells me to lean forward to pull my tits up, not that there’s much to pull up. But the swells of flesh the thing creates are quite… nice. Celesse then pulls on the ties until I feel like I can’t catch a breath and I’m going to pass the fuck out.
Next is the gray dress. She drapes it over my head and it settles over the corset nicely. Instead of hitting me mid-thigh, the way hers does, it hangs below my knees. Sometimes, I hate being so short. She looks at it and frowns before pulling a pair of scissors from her apron pocket and cutting the hemline so it hits me on my lower thighs. Reaching under the bed, Celesse pulls out a pair of equally simple gray slippers and I slide my feet into them. They’re warm and comfortable and exactly the right size.
“Who did these belong to?” I ask, irritated by the fact that Leith has women’s slippers beneath his bed.
“You, miss,” Celesse answers. “I brought them up earlier when you were asleep. Along with the towel and the tub.
“Oh,” I say, feeling stupid for asking and even more stupid for my jealousy, which was probably fairly obvious. “Thank you.”
Celesse swings open the door to Leith’s closet and I catch the glint of a mirror before she guides me in front of it. Her beaming face is reflected back at me from the glass. Then she grabs a wooden chair and sets it up in front of the mirror.
“Sit, if you please,” she says.
I do as I’m told and Celesse begins fussing with my hair, pulling at it with a comb, which she also produces from her apron pocket. When she’s finished, my ringlets are still wet but at least they’re tamed and she has them pulled behind my ears, courtesy of a wide blue ribbon. It’s the first time I can really see my face.
As I stare at myself, I’m completely gobsmacked at my reflection. I almost look... like a woman. For the first time in my life, I have the semblance of curves. The cinched bodice and low cut of the dress give the illusion I have modestly-sized breasts instead of the mosquito bites that can be generously called tits. The dress bares half my shoulders, emphasizing my clavicles. If I can ignore the swaths of bandages that still cover me, I almost look pretty. Not stunning, like Neva, but attractive enough to warrant a second glance.
“You’re lovely, miss,” Celesse pronounces. Then she spins me around and marches me right out the door, into the corridor beyond where a new batch of guards stand waiting for us. It seems Leith has learned his lesson where I’m concerned.
The guards appear to be wearing the same sort of armor Nash has, though it doesn’t appear new, like his. Each of the men is easily two to three hundred pounds of muscle. Their bear forms must be massive. I’m not eager to be chased or injured again today, so I stay within the column of them as we’re marched up the stairs and escorted through the courtyard.
I feel less like an honored dinner guest and more like a condemned prisoner being led to the gallows. Leith is sure to be furious with me. Maybe I’m the main course tonight. Filleted thief, with a side of bitter greens.
Ha, funny, Kassidy.
Well, I’m trying to break the mood! I rail back at myself.
It’s not easy to be funny when you’re terrified.
True. Stick to being terrified.
When the doors swing open, I’m expecting to find all three of the cousins assembled and ready to take off my head. Instead, it’s only Leith, dressed in a sharply cut cobalt blue coat, matching slacks, and a pair of shiny black boots. It’s a compelling combination, paired with his hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin and gray hair. He sits at the head of the table, but he stands as I enter the room.
I boggle. How the fuck is he still capable of being a gentleman? I can tell my thieving is still having an effect on him. He’s paler than normal, and he looks a little drawn. Still, he pulls back a seat to the left of his as we approach. Before I can sit, Leith raises a finger.
“First things first,” he murmurs.
He pulls a large square box from his coat pocket and opens it. Inside is an ornate necklace made of braided gold and silver, with a ruby the size of a grape at its center. I’m practically salivating at the sight of it. For an instant, I forget how hungry and uncomfortable I am. This thing’s market value is off the charts! If I could sell it, the money could fund our endeavors for a few months, at least.
“Spin around,” Leith says. “I want to see how it looks on you.”
Me? He’s giving the necklace to me? After I drained him of his life? Why? There has to be some sort of catch. Is he taunting me with valuables, knowing how much I want to steal them?
“I don’t think it goes with the dress,” I hedge.
A wicked smirk tugs at his mouth. “Fine. Strip down and I’ll have Celesse bring you something more appropriate.”
My face heats as his eyes dip appreciatively to my breasts. He licks one corner of his lips, and I know exactly where that filthy mind has settled. He’s thinking about how hard my nipples are beneath this bodice, how I’ll sound when he latches onto one. How I sound when I come, the way my body trembles beneath his touch.
Heat also gathers between my thighs, and I know he’ll be able to smell it if he wants to. Damn it. Why does this man make me so wet?
Saying nothing, I turn so my back is to him, hiding my embarrassment. He steps closer, and the heat of him presses into my back. I obligingly sweep my hair aside so he can drape the chain around my neck, letting the ruby settle between my newly enhanced breasts.
The moment the necklace latches, something is wrong. The remainder of my ill-gotten strength seeps out of my limbs and fatigue washes over me so hard and fast, I almost collapse. I’m saved from impacting the stone floor by Leith, who hoists me into his arms for a few moments before settling me in the chair.
“What… the fuck did you… do to me?” I demand. Or, rather, I try to demand—the words come out slurred, barely intelligible. What’s the bastard done to me? Drugged me?
When it wears off, I’ll kill his ass.
“Relax,” he says, resuming his seat and his smile. “It’s just a sealing charm.”
“What the fuck’s that?”
“It will hold your powers at bay, in case you’re of the mind to use them on me again.”
Okay, so he is pissed. This whole bullshit dinner setup was merely to throw me off so he could get the fucking necklace on me and ensure my powers were taken away. The fucking bastard!
I scrabble at the chain at my throat, desperately fumbling for the latch. I can’t be without my powers. How in the name of Avernus am I supposed to escape without them? My powers are the only thing keeping me safe. I feel naked without them, and intensely vulnerable.
The latch won’t budge, no matter how hard I try to undo it. It’s as though it’s rusted shut, which is impossible because Leith had no problem fastening it around my throat.
And then I understand—I’m going nowhere.
“It won’t… come off!” I damn near shriek, if I possessed the energy to do so.
Leith looks unperturbed. “It wouldn’t be an effective tool if it could be undone at will. It’s coded to respond to touch. Mine, specifically, or Nash’s.”
“Sorren?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t trust Sorren with this sort of… responsibility.”
I shiver. I don’t want to admit it to him or to myself, but Sorren scares the piss out of me. At first I thought Nash was the scariest of the three, but how wrong I was! Sorren is in another league of scary.
It’s yet another reason why I don’t want to go through with this Rite of Three bullshit. I get the feeling that Sorren would rather carve out my liver and eat it than have sex with me.
Leith chuckles darkly. “Yes, Sorren is a bit... disturbed.”
“Yeah, understatement.”
Leith nods. “He’s been that way since the incident. He used to be a good man. A brilliant one, in fact. But now, all that intellect is corrupted, turned toward the pursuit of pain and peculiar appetites.”
“Why do you let… him live, then?” The question bursts from me before I can hold it back.
“Let him live?” Leith repeats, frowning.
I realize he wants me to explain. “If he’s so… dangerous, why let him… wander around here like… he’s … harmless?” Then it occurs to me. “Does Sorren wear one… of these horrible… contraptions as well?”
Leith’s face darkens. “No. Sorren can’t shift any longer and that particular necklace is meant to help young shifters who are just learning how to wrestle their powers.”
“Why… can’t he shift any longer?”
Leith nods as if he expects the question. “That ability requires...” He pauses. “Well, it isn’t my story to tell. If you want the full story, you’ll have to get it from him.”
When Avernus glazes over with ice!
I’m not going near Sorren again, if I can help it. “I’ll pass.”
Leith pointedly ignores my disquiet and continues. “You don’t have to sit there looking petrified, Goldilocks. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I try to read a lie in his face but find none. His handsome, chiseled features are set in lines of utter sincerity. He means it. “Have you put… this thing on me… so you can force… me into my punishment and… make sure I take it?” I ask, wanting to get down to bare bones and find out what the fuck is going on.
“To which punishment are you referring? The Rite of Three or the lashes?”
“Either,” I answer with a shrug.
“Well, the answer to both questions is no. I would never force myself on a woman who didn’t want me and I’m not eager to kill you.”
“Why not?”
He chuckles. “You aren’t very good at trying to convince me to keep you alive, are you?”
“I just… don’t understand why you’re… being nice to me. If that’s what… this is.”
Well, the necklace isn’t exactly ‘nice’ but he hasn’t killed me yet so there’s that.
“I shouldn’t be nice to you?” he asks as he leans back in his chair and regards me with interest. He reaches forward and picks up a chalice filled with wine. It’s the first time I’ve noticed it and when I look at the table before us, I realize it’s covered in food I hadn’t noticed before.
That’s how riveting Leith is. He pulls all my attention when usually, I’m much better at paying attention to my surroundings.
I frown. “Um… yeah?” I start. “I tricked you an’ took your life force.”
A faint smile curls Leith’s full mouth. “Ah, yes, that’s quite what you did, isn’t it? Just as I was giving you the orgasm of your life, too, as I remember.” He chuckles again. “I’ve been fucked to the point of exhaustion before, but never quite like that.”
Stupid heat creeps into my cheeks again. Damn him for making me blush. I’ve never felt like such a fucking girl in my life. I’m Kassidy Aurelian, expert Guild thief, calm under pressure, someone who takes shit from absolutely no one.
I’ve also never known a man’s body so intimately. Maybe that makes all the difference? It’s hard to stay unflappable in the presence of a man who has worshipped your pussy, and treated you like a damn goddess though you’d done nothing to earn it. Actually, I’ve done everything opposite of earning it. Yet, somehow, I get the impression Leith would do it again, right here and now, if I asked him to.
I have an enticing vision of Leith sweeping the plates and food off the table and hoisting me onto it, hiking the silly dress up to my hips before he ducks between my thighs.
His nostrils flare subtly and his eyes grow darker, his voice taking on an even huskier bass when he speaks.
“You smell like you still want me.”
I swallow hard. “I don’t.”
He chuckles and leans in closer, inhaling even deeper. “Your body reveals your lie.”
“Well, ignore it… because it doesn’t know… what the fuck is going… on since you put… this fucking… necklace on me.”
“It’s not just your body.”
“What else?”
He shrugs. “It’s in your eyes, Goldilocks. Stop looking at me like that, or I’m going to drag you to my chambers again to finish what we started.”
Why does that sound like an excellent idea? It must be the exhaustion. And the influence of the damn necklace.
Keep telling yourself that, Kassidy.
Oh, you shut up! I don’t have the patience to deal with you right now!
I tug my plate forward and seize my fork, stabbing it viciously into my pork chop. I saw off a piece with the serrated edge of my knife and pop it into my mouth. The raspberry sauce adds a twist of tart flavor to the meat and I practically moan. I still don’t understand why Leith’s being so kind (well, aside from stealing my powers with the necklace), but I’m not going to let that mystery get in the way of appeasing my hunger.
Leith watches me, picking apart a fluffy roll with his long fingers. I can’t help but think how good they felt inside me, even as I gorge myself on pork and sautéed onions and mushrooms. I can’t remember the last time I ate this well.
“Why are you… being so… nice to me?” I ask finally as I face him, needing to take a break from the food because the corset is so tight, I can barely breathe. “And no bullshit… I want the truth.”
He shrugs. “I don’t blame you for trying to steal the Ambrosia.”
“Why not?” I ask, shocked.
“I understand what a difference our Ambrosia would make to your mission and your people. It’s admirable the Guild is still fighting, even after all this time.”
“If you know it… could help the Guild… and you seem… to like that… fact, why won’t you just… give it to us in an… effort to help us?” I demand. “We’re trying…” I suddenly lose the ability to speak because I’m so exhausted.
“Take your time, Goldilocks,” Leith says. “The necklace has incapacitated you and you need not rush.”
I nod and breathe in deeply before I continue. “We’re try
ing… to save the lives… of every human and non-human in Fantasia. And yet… here you are, sitting out of not one, but… two wars, selfishly… hoarding one thing that… could tip the scales in… our favor.”
For the first time since we’ve met, Leith’s face hardens with real anger. “You wouldn’t be so quick to judge if you knew what was at stake here.”
“Tell me… then, because… I’m sure whatever is at… stake here isn’t… worth not helping us.”
“Ye know nothing of which you speak.”
“Then enlighten… me, Leith.”
His hazel eyes grow more haunted, the set of his jaw even angrier than before. “We stayed out of the war once before and we were left alone. That’s all we want. We are a solitary people, and we are few in number now. We live simple, peaceful lives and we rarely fight wars. Your Guild fought Morningstar for almost a decade and you only achieved a stalemate. Your generals are scattered to the wind—you’re fractured, and no one is willing to aid you this time.”
“That’s not true!” I try to argue but he continues.
“Besides, none of the champions have risen yet. They’ve been prophesied all along but where the bloody hell are they?”
I try to speak up, to tell him Neva is one of the Chosen Ten, that word has been spreading such is the case, but he doesn’t let me speak.
“Let’s say for sake of argument that I gave you what you seek, then I’d be definitively throwing our lot in with yours. I’m not willing to sacrifice my people on the altar of your ideas, I don’t care how damn beautiful you are.”
The compliment barely registers and I quickly shrug it off, like water off a duck’s back. I’m too angry with him to be flattered. Doesn’t he see we’ll have a fighting chance if he just hands over the Ambrosia? I can understand the vicious pragmatism, I really can. I’ve had to make difficult choices during my time as a Guild thief—I’ve done horrible, immoral things in the name of duty. But this is different—this is callous to the point of being inhuman.
“There is… a Champion who has arisen…”
He laughs. “Who? And why have I not heard of this news?”
“Her name is… Neva… and she’s my…friend.”