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As if I cared he didn’t make any attempt to see or contact me. And I refused to be the type that went pathetically begging for a scrap of attention. This was exactly what I expected. As if a king and tizana could have anything more permanent or romantic. The best I could have hoped for was him starting a harem and putting me in it. Making me his public whore.
Not something I wanted. Not one bit. And yet the fact he didn’t show? It stung.
That fourth and fifth night after my deflowering—my current calendar for tracking time—with people wanting to throw money away, it seemed foolish to not take advantage. I layered myself in veils and danced. Enticed them to the point a few were removed for not following the rules.
Insane amounts of coins and favors were dropped into my nonrefundable baskets. Not one tempted me. And so they tried even harder the next night, my regulars convinced they’d offended me somehow. What they didn’t understand was I couldn’t pretend. I didn’t want to have to strip them and make it seem like we’d done things. For the first time, I felt dirty about it.
I blamed the King.
This was all his fault. Distracting me. Making me remember what had happened every time I glanced at my bed. Cursing me to want something more than what I’d been content with before.
I tried to hate him. I reminded myself that the entire time I’d known him the King had been playing me. I should have listened to the other tizanas who worked here who always warned men wanted only thing and once they got it…
They left and didn’t even send a basket of food. I could have used some since I kept eating. Palla practically slapped my hand when she saw me reaching for another pastry.
“Enough.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You’re moping.”
“Am not.”
“You can’t lie to me. I know you miss that prick.”
I gaped. “Palla, you can’t call our king that.”
“Why not? He deflowered you and then hasn’t even had the courtesy to send you flowers.”
“Flowers are useless.” I eyed the pastry left on the tray. Not my favorite, but I wanted to eat.
“They sure look and smell pretty.”
“Not all my clients send me presents,” I reminded.
“He wasn’t a client.”
“No, he wasn’t.” A reminder that I’d seduced him as much as he’d seduced me. “You’re just mad because you lost the bet.”
“I really thought he’d come back.” Palla’s lips turned down.
“Told you he wouldn’t.” I said it lightly, and yet my heart ached.
“I am so going to punch the King next time I see him,” Palla promised, striking her fist in a palm.
“It wouldn’t accomplish anything other than getting you thrown into a cell.”
“A nice one like you got, I hope, with room service. Sounds like a relaxing holiday.”
Rather than eat the last pastry, I threw it at her.
Palla snatched it midair and took a bite. “I’m going to see if they need a hand tossing anyone out.”
“Ooh, bring back some fruit when you’re done.”
Her brows rose. “You’re still hungry?”
My lips parted in a smile. “Ravenous.”
