I was beginning to regret the twink jokes I’d made on the first day. Since then, everyone had been acting like twinks were a rare magical being with abilities that went beyond good fashion sense. But I wasn’t sure if it was polite to correct the Queen, so I ate another cake.
Aeldryc straightened, which should not have been possible given that he was already the straightest-sitting person I had ever met. “Your Majesty. I have conducted a thorough interrogation of the subject over the past several days.”
I pressed my lips together, thinking of how he’d bent me over his desk yesterday and thoroughly interrogated every single inch of my insides.Must not giggle.
“My assessment is that Pippin Crane is, with high confidence, an innocent victim. He arrived through means he does not understand and cannot replicate. He has no knowledge of the mechanics of transport, though further questioning has uncovered the presence of a mirror that could possibly be aportal of some sort in his home world. He has no connection to any known magical faction, and no training in any form of magic.”
He paused and waited until she nodded for him to continue. I took another cake, and stuffed it into my mouth to hide my growing urge to crack a dick joke.
“It is my belief that he was subjected to some form of dark magic. There was a mirror involved, and it’s likely that he was innocent collateral damage.”
“Of the mirror?”
“Yes, whoever enchanted this object must have created it for a purpose, but Pip was not involved in that. He poses no threat to the Crown or the realm. He is, in my professional judgment, exactly what he appears to be: a human civilian who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“So he is not a twink.”
“My research has confirmed that ‘twink’ is a subcategory of humans in his realm, but I’ve found no evidence that they have access to any dangerous magic.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing.
The Queen’s gaze slid to me. Cool, assessing. “And your interrogation was thorough.”
“Extremely thorough, Your Majesty.”
I looked at the ceiling. I looked at the cakes. I looked at anything that was not the Queen or Aeldryc because if I made eye contact with either of them I was going to say something that would make this worse.
“Are you absolutely certain?”
“He is really, really good at interrogation.” The words leapt from my mouth. “Like, I’m a terrible liar in general, but after—” I gestured vaguely between myself and Aeldryc. “I mean, it’s basically impossible to lie after that, er, interrogation. You just kind of melt into a puddle of honesty.” A puddle of honesty and cum. “He should teach a class. In interrogation, I mean, not sex.”
Shit. Why had I said that? The silence that followed was concerning. Aeldryc went still beside me.
The Queen was staring at my chest, making me regret my open-collared shirt. Her eyes dropped to my thigh, where there was most definitely a bite mark. I quickly crossed my legs to cover it.
Her mouth twitched, and I very much hoped it wasn’t evidence that she was fighting the urge to have me executed.
“I see,” she said. “Your methods have evolved, Commander.”
“Your Majesty, I assure you that the interrogation was conducted—”
“Spare us.” She lifted a hand. The gesture was small but it shut him down like a valve closing. “The crown has come to a decision. We are placing the human twink in your care until we decide otherwise. Let it be noted that by our order, the Twink, Pippin Crane, must at all times remain in the presence of Aeldryc the Ironstorm, commander of the Grey Guard, or in a place where the Grey Guard can account for him.”
She looked at the woman with a quill, who was frantically writing, then looked at me again, and this time the assessment was sharper. Pointed.
“He is clearly undisciplined. And we are not assured of the safety of the palace despite your considerable”—she glanced at the bite mark on my thigh—“interrogation. Therefore, you will keep him contained.”
“Your Majesty?” Aeldryc said.
“A containment collar. He is to remain within your control at all times, Commander. Keep him on a tight leash until the crown understands how he arrived and whether others will follow. The utmost caution must be exercised. And it is our opinion that his constitution is not suited for the dungeons.”
“Oh, you are very correct in that assessment, Your Highness,” I said. “I am not dungeon material.”
She gestured to the silver tea tray on the table beside her. “Collar him. You may use that.”
Aeldryc looked at the tea tray. Looked at me. I could see the gears turning—duty, desire, the deeply inconvenient overlap between the two.
“Is this like a sexy collar?” I asked.
