Wicked Charming Cruel

by Emmy Chandler

  “Aunt Maari!” Sutton shouted. The four-year-old brushed past his older sister to stand at the front of the young crowd. “We can see her!”

  “I can see you too!" Maari said. “It’s so good to see you all!” She blinked back tears. “I’ve missed you so much! Tell me everything you've been up to."

  For several minutes, Uma and Sutton jabbered over each other, vying for attention as they told their aunt about school work, and new toys, and the vegetables their nurse made them eat.

  “What about you, little ones?" their mother said at last, to make sure the two-year-old twins had a chance to speak. “What’ve you been up to while I'm gone?"

  “I gotta new dress!" Ava held out her pink skirt, then twirled around to make it flare. “Lennon broke his shoes,” she announced as she came full circle.

  “He broke his shoes?" Maari frowned, unsure how to translate the toddler’s statement. She'd always been highly verbal, but questionably accurate. “How does one break one’s shoes?" For a stiletto, that certainly seemed possible. But a toddler's sneakers?

  For his part, Lennon seemed disinclined to elaborate. As usual, he seemed fine with letting his twin speak for him.

  “Laces broke," Ava clarified.

  Maari laughed. “Well, I'm sure your nurse can come up with a new pair."

  The children prattled on for several more minutes, demonstrating somersaults and cartwheels and drinking pouches of juice the nurse handed out. Maari listened and commented. She praised performances and tried to memorize little faces, without letting her homesickness—the terrible ache consuming her chest—show through.

  When the day nurse finally signed off to get the children ready for lunch, the princess’s heart was full of a bittersweet joy, her eyes standing in tears. “Thank you," she said, pulling Clare into a hug. “Thank you. I really needed to see them.”

  “Come to dinner with us.” Clare took her hand again. “Last night was awkward without you. The men seemed determined to turn our meal into political grandstanding. But if you’re there tonight, it will feel more like a visit. You know we leave tomorrow?"

  She hadn’t known. Maari only ever seemed to receive half of the information she felt entitled to. “I will come,” she promised. “I'm sorry I waited so long to see you." Yet her initial objection to the visit had not changed. Saying goodbye to Clare and Jaarod would be among the most difficult things she had ever had to endure. “If I know Jude, he intends to end your visit in style."

  17

  Maari

  That afternoon, Jude returned to Maari’s apartment carrying a gift box topped with a gold bow. She could tell from his quiet smile that he was very proud of whatever he had brought for her.

  “Is that a gift?" Maari stood from her seat at the table, where she had been sipping a cup of coffee and staring into her private garden. “Should I be nervous? Usually only Orlann brings me boxes.”

  “It's the fulfillment of a promise." His smile broadened. “But yes, it's also a gift." He handed Maari the small box and gestured for her to sit with him on the sofa.

  “May I open it now?" she asked as she sank onto the center cushion.

  “Please do.” He sat with her and turned to lean against the arm of the couch, so he could watch her face she opened the gift.

  Mari eagerly plucked the bow from the box and removed the lid. Inside, she found a sheet of decorative tissue paper—white with flecks of gold—which she removed to reveal her present. “Oh!” Her soft little gasp deepened Jude’s smile. “Is this real?" she asked as she pulled the transparent com device from the box. It was about the size of her palm, and it was rigid—a seamless, frameless panel very similar to his own.

  “Yes, it's real. But restricted, of course. It's already programmed to recognize your face and your voice.” Which he could do, Maari understood, because he had hundreds of hours of surveillance footage of her. “It won't let you make calls, nor will it unlock doors. But it gives you access to your allowance and to a few shopping outlets, where you've been authorized to buy clothing and to download books and music. There's also an icon that will put you in direct contact with the palace concierge. Which means you may now order your own meals, snacks, and drinks within reason. Your requests to the concierge also come immediately to my device, so that I can approve them.”

  Maari blinked, staring at the device cradled in her hands, struggling to get her disappointment under control before she met his gaze. “But no calls? And no door access?” She finally looked up, and though she did manage to fight back the tears burning at the backs of her eyes, she could not control the angry clenching of her jaw. “So then, I am still a prisoner?”

  The king’s smile faded. “Why must you sour every gift I give you with a demand for more? Why is nothing ever enough for you?"

  "There are a million ways to answer that question, Jude. It isn't enough because it isn't what I had before you took me prisoner. Because it isn't the life I was promised by the fiancé you stole me from. Because it isn't what any other woman on the planet would be allowed. But what it boils down to is that it's never enough because it just isn't enough. It isn't independence. It isn't respect. It isn't as much freedom as you give your four-year-old daughter. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that. About the fact that you call me a member of this household and you expect my loyalty, yet you treat me like a child.”

  Jude’s gaze hardened. “I treat you like an adult who cannot be trusted, and I look forward to the day that changes even more than you do. I want nothing more than for you to accept your place here. Your place at my side. In my bed. In my heart. As a permanent, loyal citizen of Stead Loborough. Until you do that—until I am sure you're not going to try to default on your obligation—I cannot afford to give you the freedoms you're asking for. And I grow weary of giving you gifts that go unappreciated.” He held out his hand for her new toy, his blue-eyed gaze ice cold. “Shall I assume you don't want the device?”

  “No.” Maari’s hand tightened possessively around the screen. “Please don't misunderstand. I am grateful. This is infinitely more than I had before. I wish I knew how to be more thankful. I wish you could understand why I can't. Why a tiny little taste of independence only whets my appetite for the real thing and reminds me of the days when I had so much more.” She laid her empty hand in his palm and squeezed, and though he looked surprised, he did not pull away. “And please understand that what I'm asking for isn’t things. It's not the dresses, or the food, or the wine, or the devices. It's the freedom to choose them for myself. To plan my days myself. To make decisions of greater importance than whether to take my coffee at the dining room table or in the garden.”

  “You feel bored and useless," Jude said. “I do understand. Orlann feels much the same way, while he's stuck here, but would rather be in Valemont.”

  She frowned. “Can Orlann open doors? Can he communicate with people outside the palace? Can he choose who he sleeps with, and what he wears, and where he goes, and when he eats? Because if the answer to any of those is yes, then Orlann does not feel ‘much the same.’”

  “You do understand, don't you, that there is a simple way for you to gain access to everything you're asking for. Including decisions of the utmost importance.”

  “Dare I ask?” she said, still staring down at the largely worthless com device in her hand.

  “Give us a child."

  “Jude—” She started to pull her hand back, but he held it trapped.

  “There are no decisions of greater importance than those made on behalf of a child. Of a life that is utterly dependent upon you. There is no greater responsibility. No greater honor—”

  “I don't need you to lecture me about motherhood.” Mari stood, jerking her hand free, and paced across the room clutching her new screen. “The problem isn't that I don't want to be a mother. The problem is that I don't know how to want a child right now. Under these circumstances. I've tried to explain that at least a dozen times. I don't know how to give you
what you want, yet you insist you will hold all of Stead Delayne responsible for my failure.” She turned a furious, exasperated expression on him. “You're saddling me with all the responsibility of a king, yet none of the advantages.”

  “What I want to saddle you with are both the responsibilities and advantages of a mother. But we'll table this discussion for now.” He stood, already heading for the door. “Cocktails will be served in an hour, and Annah is upstairs getting your things ready. Since you haven't yet had a chance to select dresses for yourself, I brought over several choices. I will be back to get you in one hour.”

  “You look lovely, princess,” Annah said as she arranged the last painstakingly curled ringlet over Maari’s shoulder. She smiled at the princess in the bathroom mirror, her gaze wandering over the green dual-silhouette of her new dress—an emerald green thigh-length sheath, beneath a glittering, translucent green overlay that fell in waves to her ankles. The dress was at once modest and sexy. "I think you've chosen well."

  "Thank you. Though, I don't think it was possible to make a bad choice. Jude only sent dresses he would like to see me in."

  “He has exquisite taste," Annah said, and Maari understood that the compliment was intended to extend to the princess herself, whom the king had selected, just as he’d selected her clothing. "I hope you have a wonderful visit."

  “Thank you.” She certainly intended to try. As difficult as it was going to be to say goodbye to Jaarod and Clare, the thought that she may actually never see them again made her determined to make the most of the evening.

  "These were delivered for you as well." Annah lifted a small jewelry box from the counter, its hand carved wooden lid open to reveal a small selection of necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings. "I don't think you can go wrong with any of them." Maari selected a necklace and a pair of earrings. "Would you like a ring as well?"

  "No, thank you. I'm going to wear the one Jaarod brought."

  "Your brother brought you a gift?"

  "Yes. It was my mother's." Maari headed into to the bedroom and lifted a small box from the top of her dresser. She plucked the ring from inside and slid it onto the third finger of her right hand as she went back into the bathroom. “My mother intended for me to have it on my wedding night. But since this might be the most formal occasion I ever attend again in my life…” She shrugged and held out her hand to show her handmaid the ring.

  Annah's eyes widened. She grabbed the princess's hand, seeming to forget herself for a moment, then she stepped back, clasping her own hands behind her skirt. "Apologies. It's just... I remember this ring. Your mother wore it all the time. Only..." She frowned and reached for Maari's hand again. "May I?"

  "Yes," Maari said, intrigued by her handmaid's interest in the heirloom.

  Annah took her hand again, pulling it close for a better look at the ring. "I remember this piece very well, only I remembered the stone being blue. Yet it is very clearly green, at least in this lighting." She glanced at the fixture overhead, as if it might be to blame for her faulty memory.

  "Yes, that's why I selected this dress. I thought it would go well with the ring.”

  "It does." Annah shook her head, her pale brows furrowed. "Clearly I'm remembering the ring wrong."

  "Maybe it was another ring."

  "No, I'm sure it was this one. Is it possible someone has replaced the stone? Perhaps stolen the original?"

  Maari frowned. "I have no idea. I'll ask Jaarod at dinner. Maybe he remembers it better than I do."

  A door opened downstairs, and familiar footsteps echoed from the first-floor foyer. “Maari, are you ready?" Jude called.

  “One moment!" She closed the jewelry box and stood still while Annah fussed over her curls one more time.

  Jude's footsteps clomped up the stairs. “Wife or concubine, all ladies are equally punctual. Or tardy.”

  Maari bristled over the comparison to Geneva. “I'm ready,” she said on her way out of the bathroom, just as Jude entered the bedroom from the foyer. He stopped cold with one look at her, his eyes wide. "You look stunning.” He crossed the room in a handful of steps and pulled her close, running his hands down her bare back and over the gauzy material that began just above her waist. “You may be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life."

  Maari couldn't resist a satisfied smile, despite her anger at him. "May I ask what's on the menu?" she asked as Jude finally let her go.

  “Poached salmon in coconut lime sauce, with a variety of sides.”

  "I meant the cocktail menu. This is cocktail hour, right? I mean this is a proper dinner party you’re taking me to isn't it? Because if you’re still trying to buy my affection, a nice drink would go a long way.”

  His brows rose. “Well, you're in a better mood than when I left you."

  She nodded. “Though I can’t promise that will last, once my family has left.”

  “I’d hoped for more of a long-term effect from this visit, but I suppose I will take what I can get.” Jude extended his arm, and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let's go have a pleasant evening."

  Maari couldn't help comparing this night out to nights she'd had out with Elan Edgar, during his courtship of her. The differences were obvious, yet somehow the start of this evening felt very much like those other nights. Jude had made sure of that with the dress, and the jewelry, and the shoes, and the guests, and—

  “Good gods, you look fucking incredible.”

  Maari looked up to find Malac stepping into the room behind Jude. Orlann followed him in, and for one long moment, she stood stunned as she took them in. Her lovers were beautiful, all three of them, though no two had dressed alike.

  Jude wore a classic black-on-black jacket, vest, and tie, his vest accented with an asymmetrical button line. Orlann had opted for a charcoal gray jacket, vest, and tie, over a coal-black button-up shirt, and Malac stood out as usual, dressed in shiny navy, with a wide tie and a double-collared white shirt. She wanted to run her hands over every one of them, but she had more men than hands.

  How had she never realized that before?

  “I think we should take her right now.” Malac tugged Maari away from Jude, bending to lick the length of her neck as his hands wandered all over her. She felt herself grow wet as he palmed her breast through the silky material of her dress. “All three of us.”

  Orlann stepped up behind her, pressing himself against the entire length of her body. “I would back you up on that, Malac, if it wouldn’t undo all the work she’s clearly put into the look.” Maari bit down on a groan as he deliberately squeezed her sore backside. “Normally I prefer you naked, but this dress demands to be shown off…”

  “Tonight, then,” Jude promised. “After dinner. We’ll watch her shine all night, then we’ll dirty her up together.”

  To her surprise, Maari found herself moaning over the thought, pressing her thighs together in a vain attempt to prevent moisture from gathering there.

  “She likes that idea," Malac observed, gathering up the sheer layer of her dress, so that he could glide his hand up her thigh and beneath the solid sheath. He slid one finger inside her. "She likes that idea a lot.”

  Maari moaned again as he pumped one finger in and out of her. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as she struggled to keep her legs locked beneath her. If Orlann hadn’t been supporting her from behind, lightly nibbling her neck, she might have collapsed to the ground in a lust-filled display of spread limbs and disarrayed skirts. And at the moment, that didn’t seem like a bad way to pass an evening.

  But finally, Maari groaned as she pressed her thighs together, stilling Malac’s hand between them. “Tonight,” she agreed. “But for now, I was promised a dinner party.” And for all she knew, there might never be another one of those, for her. For a royal concubine.

  “Very well then,” Jude said as Malac pulled his hand free and sucked her moisture from his fingers. “I believe our guests are waiting.”

  The thre
e of them escorted her to the formal center of the palace, which boasted broad hallways and tall, arched ceilings painted with various antique murals recounting the illustrious history of Stead Camden. Battles won. Heroes born. Queens wed, and— Yes, queens bedded, evidently. Though those scenes were somewhat tastefully depicted.

  She passed room after huge room, open for her perusal. Vestibules, formal salons, drawing rooms, a beautifully appointed chapel, and gallery after gallery lined with portraits or filled with exhibits depicting the history of the palace, the kingdom, or the Camden family itself.

  Deeper into the historic center of the palace, she passed a two-story grand ballroom and a huge banquet hall, as well as the official—and world famous—Loborough throne room. Which was when Maari realize she was being intentionally marched through all of the touristy and sometimes open-to-the-public sections of the palace. Her lovers were introducing her to their home for the first time, even though she had lived there for months.

  Maari stared at everything, her eyes wide. The palace at Bannon was just as opulent, but much less obvious about it. Much less…boastful.

  Still, there was an undeniable charm to the lavish decor. A regal splendor that made her feel somehow both small in comparison and important for having been found worthy of the display.

  After several more turns, the hallways became normal size again and the rooms became less formal, until finally Jude stopped them in front of a set of double doors. Which he threw open with a flourish to reveal a dining room that was small compared to the banquet hall, yet much larger than anything they would need for a party of six.

  Clare turned when she heard the door open, and her eyes lit up when she saw Maari dressed for the occasion. She and Jaarod had clearly been in conversation, each holding a drink, but they both approached Maari as she entered the room, followed by the Camden brothers.