Page 20 of Demon Food

His hands wrapped around my shoulders. “He left?”

“I have to go,” I said, backing against him like a panicked cat. “I have to find him⁠—”

“No, no, no, no, shit. Listen to me.” He held me in place, leaning into my ear. “That is not your concern right now.”

I jolted against him, but he squeezed me tighter.

“It’s not. You can find him later. Your concern is this. Your concern is the king.”

The king.

“But how am I supposed to concentrate?” I could barely even think. “He-he left⁠—”

“Yes, and he will return, too. And when he does, you will be many coins richer having fucked a king. You don’t need to concentrate. You just need to lie back and let him have you.”

I licked my lips, staring straight ahead at the dangling beads. “What the hell is he doing here? Don’t you think that’s odd?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I don’t know, but whatever the reason, I have no doubt he’s going to want you. They all do, so pull yourself together.”

I blinked hard at the beads. My nerves were on fire.

“Plus, I’m sorry, kid, but I don’t think you have a choice here.” He parted the curtains. “It is the fucking king.”

I stumbled when he shoved me forward from behind. The decorated vultus soldier stood in the waiting room with his hand on his sword as if in constant surveillance of a threat.

His irises flashed red at the sight of me. He was lean and built with a noble nose and strong cleft chin. I’d never seen one with their hair pulled so tightly into a low twist at the nape of his neck, such that it stretched the skin of his face over his sharp bones, giving him a severe expression.

“This the one he wants?” he asked Jaxlyn like I wasn’t standing there.

“Yes, sir,” Jaxlyn responded with a bow. “This is Feloré. Our most popular concubine, and the one the king has requested.”

“Come forth, human.”

I hesitantly stepped forward.

The soldier gave me a thorough look over, gaze dropping down my body. His nose twitched, but he rubbed it, passing it off as an itch. “What is your age?”

I blinked. It was like someone had scoured the words from my tongue. “Don’t know.”

“Orphan,” Jaxlyn supplied, by way of an explanation. “But he can be whatever age the king prefers. It is no mind to him.”

The commander nodded, like this made sense. “Let me see your tongue.”

My lips were shaky as I parted them to show him my piercing.

He observed it, twitching more. Then he grunted some acknowledgment and gripped the handle of the door to the Tasting Room. “Touch him only if he directs. When you address him, you are to address him as Your Grace or Your Majesty. Understood?”

I was fucking frozen solid.

“He understands,” Jaxlyn answered for me.

“Come.” The soldier pushed open the door and said, “Kneel before your king.”

Most vultae didn’t bother with tastings, so I’d forgotten how distinct it was from the rest of the brothel, with its cherry red walls, a dim chandelier lit with six candles and draped in strings of freshwater pearls. In the middle was an oversized leather ottoman, big enough to fit four people.

Then there was him. The king.

He was studying a still life painting of a cut pear on the wall, which was far too quaint for his brazen presence. He’d freed his long hair from its hat. It wept down his shoulders like so many tears of inky black as he swiveled around. Smiling. Jaxlyn and I both whimpered.