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“You can’t joke about your heat, Chloe. You are the Spring queen.”
“What can I joke about?”
“Not much of anything anymore.”
I sit on my bed, my back rod straight, my hands folded in front of me, my nails perfectly manicured, my slippers made of glass, showing off my painted beige toenails and Hollana’s skin painting art. In deep purple ink, Hollana drew delicate floral designs stretching from my big toe all the way up to my hip, where the lines curve and flare out over my mound. It is attractive, if not straight-up provocative.
I’m slightly uncomfortable wearing such sexually inviting designs. I already stand out from my people enough with the large crown my sister is placing on my head. However, Hollana is one of several artists serving the court this season. When I wore a design she painted on my hand, the very next span, the aristocrats solicited her services. Since the court takes a cut of her profit in exchange for allowing her to set up a shop during busy season, her art generates revenue for both her and the court.
When it comes to making money, my brother-in-law is as brilliant as any merchant, which is why D’Artaron appointed him head of my treasury. The commander also restructured the court in the way he believes serves me best. Most of the people around me are his friends and allies. He ensures I’m well served and protected.
Too bad that’s not all I want from him.
Too bad it seems that’s all he can give me, particularly with how busy he is all the time. I didn’t even see him this morning during family breakfast. He’s never missed a family gathering before, and I missed him.
However, tonight’s event is big, and he’ll be there, I’m sure of it. Looking forward to seeing him, I head for the mirror.
“Sister, I want to ask you something private.”
“Anything.” She fusses with my hair.
“Do you think I’ll know how to please a male?”
“Yes.” Claudette nods, having no clue that I already tried, and after that, the commander never visited me at night again.
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because males are easily pleased.”
“Even D’Artaron?” I ask.
Claudette stops fidgeting with the crown, and her eyes soften. “I wouldn’t know anything about pleasing that particular male, but I presume so. He’s no different from the rest of them.”
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
“Maybe not, but let me tell you something. A male worthy of you will be pleased no matter what. Smile, sister,” Claudette reminds me before we step out to where the guards are lined up and ready to escort me to dinner. We walk down the hall, and a few males I remember wearing the Summer Court’s uniform are now wearing the green Spring Court uniform.
“Have some of you transferred to the Spring Court?” I ask.
Nobody answers.
I sigh. “I am addressing any guard who changed stations from the Summer to Spring Court.”
“Yes, milady,” an older guard with a braided ginger beard hanging down to his navel says.
“Why did you change?”
“To be closer to home, milady. My wife is having babies.”
“Oh, oooo. How many babies at once?”
“Two.”
“We shall send a basket,” Claudette says and cuts him a scary look. The male clears his throat, and everyone picks up their pace. Since I’m surrounded by guards, I move with them. Though I’m no dummy. I’m on to something that the people around me are avoiding.
“Where are the Summer Court guards now?” I ask.
“They returned, milady,” the same male answers.
