by Ann Denton
Willard started to turn toward the door, and I thought our conversation was concluded. But then he stopped, turned, pursed his lips. “Your Highness, um, if you don’t mind … did you actually see dragons when you were gone?”
Shite. Mother’s cover story. And I was still bound by the mage oath. “No. I did not.”
Willard’s eyes widened. “But—”
I took a deep breath and fought down the fear in my chest. He’d shared his family’s vulnerable state with me. “Willard, I haven’t seen dragons since I was a child. Not since the last Fire War.”
Bloss! Dammit! Don’t.
“Then … why did you leave?”
“To save Evaness, of course. From people who might unintentionally destroy it. People who are better off unnamed.”
“Ahh,” Willard nodded.
Good save.
“Were you successful?”
Willard’s last question was like an arrow to my heart. I met his eyes and fought back tears. I had to answer him. But I couldn’t let him see how the answer affected me. A queen had to appear in control. “No. Not quite.”
Quinn swung open the door at that point, cutting off our conversation and any further confessions I might have made.
Chapter Fourteen
Quinn hustled me down the stairwell, berating me.
Then I spent the afternoon surrounded by tutors, updating me on the status of each of Evaness’ provinces. That was how I spent the next two weeks. Reviewing the provinces, our nobles and their alliances, then reviewing the foreign countries and our current relationships with each.
Sedara was our strongest ally, thanks to my ‘marriage’ to Declan, bastard son of their queen. But, our relationship with them had become strained over the past year.
Declan supervised me but didn’t participate for the most part. He sat at a separate desk, as far from me as he could get, running his hands through his blond hair and staining it with ink from his quill as he muttered about holdings and livestock and tried to puzzle out the issues from different provinces. Somehow, he did manage to listen with half an ear. He’d interrupt my tutors if he disagreed with some fact or figure.
“Sedara and Cheryn actually have had at least twenty aggressive incidents over the past eighteen months,” Declan interrupted the young man talking about the two countries. “Cheryn’s sultan has sent pirates, stolen goods, been really aggressive. Only seven of those incidents are considered public knowledge. The remainder, I’ll tell you about some other time.”
My stomach fell. Twenty incidents? That was serious. I turned to him. “How about now?”
Declan glanced meaningfully at the ledgers he was working on.
I ignored him and turned to my tutors. “Please give us the room for half an hour.”
The men bowed their way out, and I looked sharply at Declan, who sighed. “As you know, Sedara, has the strongest navy. That navy controls access to a lot of trade. Sultan Raj is ticked about that. Sedara’s navy also controls the magical weapons made by the elves on the Isles of Peth.”
I nodded. “Access to Peth’s weapons made a difference during the last Fire War. It’s how Mother survived.” I clamped down on memories of running through the woods—of treetops that flickered like matchsticks, burning from the top down. I shook off thoughts of my fathers, herding me toward a royal safe house underground, away from the dragons that scorched the countryside.
Declan inclined his head in agreement. “I’m pretty sure Sultan Raj thinks elven weapons will make a pretty big deal in the next one, too.”
Fear pulsed white-hot in my stomach. I didn’t want to live through another war. Ever again. Chances of me surviving one were slim. I gulped and stared up at Declan. “When do you think that might be?”
He shrugged, unaware of my discomfort. “The confidential incidents this year have all been to do with attempts to steal elven weapons. Cheryn’s only been successful once, that we’re aware of. They stole a shipload of enchanted chains that bind the wearer. Force him or her to do as told.”
A shiver ran through me. “And one of the princes of Cheryn is coming here … to meet my sister.”
Declan sighed. “Yes. And that’s all strange as well. Five brothers. One full djinn. The other four are half. And they’re sending the eldest, but the least powerful brother. He supposedly only has super speed in his arsenal of tricks.”
“Why are they sending the weakest prince?”
Declan shrugged. “Unsure. Unless they’re sending him with a length of elven chain they think makes up for that weakness.”
I meet Declan’s eyes. “Shite. So, they don’t really want an alliance? Quinn’s people are going to search each and every one of his bags. No one is to accept anything from them. Nothing. What kind of magical spells work with those chains? Do we know?”
Declan rolled his eyes. “There you go with the drama again. Is this the fire salamander all over again?”
I grabbed Declan by the collar. “I’d rather be insane than have my sister attacked or dragged off like some—”
“Calm down. Cheryn would need to ally with either Rasle or Macedon in order to launch an attack against Sedara. Rasle’s queen and Sultan Raj don’t get along, so no alliance will happen there. And Macedon’s offended that Prince Abbas is coming here to court Avia, an underage princess, when their own princess is of age.”
I watched Declan’s eyes. The blue was soothing. I slowed my breathing as I held his gaze. “I’m scared for her,” I whispered.
His hand reached up and stroked mine. “That’s really why you came back?”
I nodded.
He gave a small smile. “I might, possibly, be starting to believe that. We’ll look out for her, alright?”
Gratitude and relief swelled in my chest. “Thank you.”
I had calmed down. But I didn’t move. Declan didn’t stop stroking my hand. He didn’t break my gaze. My stomach began to buzz with nervous energy as I searched Declan’s eyes. I wasn’t sure if there was something there. Or I simply wanted something to be there. I took a bracing breath. I leaned forward slightly—
The tutors walked back in. And the moment was broken. Declan let go of my hand and dropped my gaze.
Disappointment blotted my vision when I returned to my seat. The words on the paper didn’t make as much sense, nor the tutors’ words. It was as though my ears were suddenly full of cotton.
Declan went back to his work. He seemed maddeningly unaffected. He didn’t mention that moment again. Not that day. Or the next.
I didn’t bring it up, except to relay the information about chains to Quinn and ask him to look into it. But sometimes, I snuck glances at Declan. Wondering, hopeful glances. He’d stopped hating me. Maybe, eventually, I’d convince him I was worth liking. At least a little.
“Princess Bloss?” an annoying tutor (whose name I’d forgotten) dragged me away from staring at Declan.
I returned to my studies.
Tutoring went on. And on. And on for days.
Every night, I was exhausted, because the tutors were told by my mother to give me crisis scenarios to ponder and solve. Every day I killed thousands of imaginary people. It left me wrung out, emotionally and mentally. Declan would hand my limp brain and tired bones off to one of my other husbands for ‘wife watch’ and go on his merry way.
If there was a formal dinner, I’d be handed off to Connor and his smooth-talking ways. I’d fumble my way through, trying not to offend ridiculously prickly court personalities; Connor would follow in my wake and clean up my messes. My four years outside the palace walls had—unfortunately for Connor—deteriorated my bullshite tolerance levels.
Two elderly noblewomen tittered on about the silk gowns they’d just ordered in from Rasle, our neighbor to the east.
“Actually, I know that the silk from Rasle is often woven out of false materials. Even spelled materials. You can test it by burning a strand. Real silk smells like burnt hair. Quite a few seamstresses have commented on how annoying i
t can be to think they’re working with one material when—”
Connor grabbed my elbow. “Ladies, you look lovely this evening. Those gowns are magnificent. May I steal my bride for a moment? There’s a gentleman clamoring for a dance with her.”
He led me away. “Bloss—”
“What? Their dresses might have been silk, but—”
“Just compliment them next time.”
“I’m awful at queening,” I sighed.
Connor’s lack of response only confirmed it. “Who am I supposed to dance with?”
“The ambassador from Macedon has a son visiting. He’d like to dance with you.”
Connor brought me to a corner of the ballroom where Avia and a handsome young man were making small talk. As we got near, Avia let out a flirty giggle.
I did a double-take and re-evaluated the ambassador’s son. He was tall and built. He had to be my age. At least six years older than my sister. Too old for her. Not to mention, mother would never approve of an ambassador’s son. Too bad. He was handsome enough. He had wavy brown hair and dimples.
Suddenly, I saw him sweep Avia into a dip and kiss her. Then he swung her over his shoulder, pounded his chest, and ran out of the room.
I blinked.
Everyone was back in place, chatting normally.
Quinn was messing with me again.
Stop. Or I’ll trounce you.
You can try.
Quinn’s bullshite distracted me when I should have been listening to Connor’s introduction. I suddenly found myself dancing with the man and I didn’t even know his name.
“Alright, if I admit I was distracted by your dimples, will you tell me your name again?” I smiled.
“Mateo,” he grinned.
“Mateo, I saw you talking up my sister over there. She’s pretty wonderful, huh?”
He blushed. “Do all monarchs speak this way?”
“I’ll probably get a lecture later. But … your impression?”
“She’s very sweet.”
“She is. She’s also very fond of nicknames. When you next speak with her, please call her Squawk.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m being set up?” Mateo grinned.
“Because you are. But I do need to speak with your father soon about Macedon’s interests here …”
“Are you blackmailing me into baiting your sister?”
“Maybe.”
“Your Highness, I’m honored to be included in your schemes.”
“As you should be. Oh dear, my knight’s headed over. He’ll know by my smirk that I’m up to no good. Quick, pretend I’ve been boring.”
Mateo couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. I, however, managed to look perfectly innocent as Connor cut in on our dance.
“What did you tell him?” Connor growled.
“Nothing. We simply discussed Avia.”
“You didn’t go making promises to consider him as a suitor like you did with Lady Agatha’s son Willard, did you?”
“Of course not.”
Connor rolled his eyes, made our excuses, and led me to Avia’s room for the night. Once we were inside her chamber, he proceeded to ignore me. He went right to his pallet and right to sleep.
Whoever was spellbound to stay beside me was forced to sleep in my sister’s new room with me. Her servants had moved her to a temporary room while her chamber was repaired. As far as I could tell, only the trusted servants for the royal wing knew about the change. But I’d grumbled and insisted on sleeping in the room with her. My husbands had not been pleased. Neither had Avia.
But no one had known how to handle me when I’d started screaming at the top of my lungs when they’d tried to drag me off. Insanity ploys have their advantages.
Avia had thrown a pillow at me the first night she’d given in. “You’d better not snore. And no naughty stuff with your husbands either.”
She’d eyed Connor, the husband present that first night. Connor had turned his back on us, grabbed a stack of blankets, and made himself a pallet on the floor.
“My husbands would have to like me in order for there to be naughty stuff,” I’d sighed as I clambered onto her bed with her.
Avia had grinned, “Oh, they like you. Some of them might even love you. But I think they’re even madder than I am.”
I’d hardly heard her last sentence. My stomach had dropped at the word love. And anxiety, curiosity, and obsession had sprung up. “Who do you think loves me?” I’d whispered. “What have you heard?”
Her brown eyes had sparkled as she shook her head. “If they aren’t telling you, neither am I.”
A whole round of tickle torture later, it seemed like my shite sister meant what she’d said. She hadn’t squawked—first time in her life.
Connor hadn’t joined in our tickle fight. He hadn’t even looked up that first night. He’d read a book and then watched the flames in the fireplace before curling up to sleep.
He didn’t talk to me whenever it was his night to stay with me. But Ryan and Quinn were both cajoled into playing cards with Avia and I, particularly after I promised to show them all the tricks I’d learned from the dealers at Kylee’s gambling house. Those nights became far more pleasant.
I didn’t give up hope on Connor. I knew I’d hurt him deeply. And I knew that his magic made him prone to depression. He could read the emotions of others, but then lost sight of his own.
Sometimes, when he slept, I crept out of bed, and stood over him, sending tendrils of peace to caress him. It was something he’d let me do when we were younger, but I knew he’d never accept if he was awake now. After I pulsed him with peace magic and bandaged my wrists, I always climbed into bed and watched him. It made the night full of wistful longing for me, full of memories, of sneaking Connor into my bedroom. Of hide and seek games with Avia that had devolved into hide and kiss sessions for us.
My eyes misted a bit, but as a memory of one particularly handsy kiss came up, Connor morphed into Quinn. And Quinn suddenly shoved the memory of me up against a wall. He dragged my yellow skirts up and slid his hands onto my naked hips.
Naughty girl. Did you not wear any underthings that day?
I had worn underthings that day. I was confused for a moment. Then I realized what was happening. Get out of my head.
Why? You were making me wild.
That was private.
No, Dove, what I’m about to do is private. And then the Quinn in my mind slipped to his knees and buried his head under my skirt. He breathed against my mound, placing a hand on either thigh. His tongue darted out and he gave each thigh a long, slow lick.
That’s so real, I can almost feel it. I moaned.
Relax, Dove.
How is it so real?
Because half of lovemaking is in your mind anyway. Now, do you want to argue? Or do you want me to give you your first mental melt?
Yes. Please.
Quinn chuckled under my skirt but moved his face closer. I could feel his lips caress my slit. Back and forth, side to side, he barely touched me. But each touch sent a shiver of pleasure up my spine. Anticipation made me grow slick. And then he licked his lips and kissed my clit.
The torture was so good. But I couldn’t take it. My real body was throbbing. My real hand slid down under the covers and pulled up my chemise.
Now, now. No cheating. This is my melt. You’re giving yourself to me.
How did you know what I was doing?
You practically shout your thoughts, Dove. All the time. Now are you going to be a good girl and put your hand back up? Or should I stop?
No. No don’t stop.
Then put your hands up by your head. And leave them there.
In my imagination, my hands were on a brick wall and I struggled to maintain my balance as Quinn’s quick tongue went to work, lapping at my sex. In reality, my hands clutched the pillow and my feet curled. My hips lifted off the bed.
Quinn sucked my clit into his mouth and tugged on it, turning his head side to side g
ently. The suction made sparks shoot through me, and the extra tug turned those sparks into lightning.
“Ahh!” I screamed my release.
A hand touched my arm and shook me. “Bloss! Bloss! Are you okay?”
My eyes popped open. Connor’s dark curls loomed over me. His expression was terrified.
My jaw dropped. I’d screamed out loud. In real life. Sard.
“I—I was dreaming.”
Creaming.
“Dreaming.” I was scarlet. Maybe even purple. I could not make eye contact with Connor. Not at all. “Sorry I woke you.”
“It’s alright. You’re okay?” Concern colored his voice.
I nodded, biting my lip. Of all the times for Connor to worry about me. “I’m fine. Just a dream. Really.”
Connor drifted back to his pallet.
I turned onto my side and punched my pillow.
I will get you back. For this and that other morning when I looked like an idiot.
I would think that tonight completely makes up for the other day.
Connor caught me.
That’s not my fault.
I turned over on my side, grumbling internally. Quinn was right, of course. Connor catching me was entirely my fault. Didn’t matter. I was still going to get him back.
I started to think of ways to get revenge that wouldn’t give Quinn advance notice. I wasn’t sure there was one. I yawned and my scheming faded. Quinn’s magical mental prowess had done its job. I drifted to sleep in post-orgasmic bliss.
The next morning, Connor handed me off to Declan and almost immediately, I asked him if we could go find Ryan.
Declan looked a bit bewildered by my request, perhaps because I asked while he was still finishing his morning coffee in his room. I gave him a winning smile. I wasn’t sure that made any difference, but I knew I needed to start the day on a good note.
He made me sit and wait while he finished his drink, and combed his blond hair, and changed his vest.
While I waited, I told him all about Willard. And also about the spells. Declan was pleased to find out we now had a ten-foot radius. This made trips to the loo much less embarrassing for all of us. He was not as pleased to find out my mother had put a spell on him to make him inclined to forgive me.
