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“It was probably nothing,” I said, then made sure he watched as I adjusted my trousers, trying to alleviate some pressure. He might not want to suck me in return, but I’d settle for getting off in one of his large, rough hands, if that was all he’d be willing to give.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” he growled.
That wasn’t going to work for me. I needed witnesses. I reclined on the bench again and spread my arms along the back rails, displaying everything he could have—almost had—countless lovers, talents at the tip of my tongue that would ruin him for anyone else, and a body that didn’t quit. All he needed to do was step forward, forget the screams, and get on his knees. He wanted to fucking ride me like there was no tomorrow, and there was no use him denying it. The Court of War didn’t hide their expressions, they wore their them like badges on their shields.
I dropped my hand again and rubbed my pinched erection, then swept my tongue across my top lip. Draven tracked every gesture as though he was a starved man presented with a feast. His cock would be demanding it find its place between my firm lips again, and maybe my ass too, but we’d get to that later. If he did as he was told.
Light flooded from the palace, igniting the gardens. Torches blazed along the terraces, shouts barreled into the night.
Clearly, my chosen location was no longer appropriate for everything I’d had in mind.
I prowled to my feet. There was another hidden part of the garden we could explore, just a few moments’ walk away. Except, when I reached for Draven, I motioned with my right hand—forgetting my missing finger.
He stared at my hand, and the gap where its missing digit used to be. Then looked up, into my eyes. And he knew who I was, knew too much.
Such a shame I had to kill him. Maybe I could kill him while we fucked. I hadn’t experienced that pleasure in a long time, and never alone. Although, the thought of such an act didn’t sizzle through my veins like it once had. If anything, I’d hoped all of that was behind me, at least for a little while longer.
“The fool?” someone shouted from the terrace. “Where’s the court fool?!”
I sighed. What had the queen done now? Stumbled naked from her chambers, returned to the ballroom as pickled as a gherkin? Could I not get a few hours of peace?
“Here!” Draven bellowed. “He’s here.” He stepped back, the knowledge of who I was written all over his face, turning him fearful. What did he think he knew about the traitor’s son, about me?
I clicked my tongue, tut-tutting, and approached him in a slow dance all of our own. “That’s your sexual awakening ruined.”
Draven’s eyes widened. Indecision, doubt, fear—he was too easy to read. The guards had seen us. My chance to lure him away had passed, but I’d have a second chance later. If he knew whattraitor’s sonmeant, then he couldn’t ever leave the Court of Love alive.
When I stepped closer this time, he didn’t back down. “If you want to know that pleasure you’re so desperate for, warlord, come find me after this is dealt with.” I tested his lips, to see if he’d move; when he didn’t, I brushed a ghost of a kiss over his mouth. He tasted of desert spices and hot, exotic nights. I knew he was hard without touching him, could see the thirst in his kohl-lined eyes.
The moment his lips parted, I sauntered from his side, leaving us both frustrated in more ways than one.
Four palace guards spilled down the terrace steps. There was a moment between one step and the next, where the fear that had earlier skittered through my veins returned, and tripped my stride. I should have known the ambiance was wrong, should have felt the tension in the air, seen it in the way the guards clasped their swords and how the guests hung back, not in awe, but in fear. But Draven’s revelation left my mind reeling.
The guards rushed in. The one to my left kicked my legs out, and before I could bark a protest, I fell to my knees, hands locked behind my back. “Wait—what is this?” I writhed, instincts kicking in too late to fight.
“The queen,” the guard to my right panted, his face in mine.
Had King Albus snapped under the weight of all the rumors? Did he believe I’d bedded her, hence the rough handling? “Easy, she’s in her chamber. I haven’t touched her—”
“‘Touched her’?” The guard’s lip curled. “You filthy whore, you murdered her!”
For the second time in a matter of moments, a man’s words knocked the air from my lungs. I blinked at the guard, like the fool I apparently was, and tried to untangle the foreign-sounding words he’d just spoken to me. “Katina’s dead?”
“You can’t slither your way out of this one, Fool.” His iron-fisted punch struck my jaw. The blow tore me from his companion’s hold and flung me facedown, where thick darkness greeted me, and the wave of fear pulled me under.
CHAPTER2
Adull, heated ache radiated through my jaw. I’d regained consciousness in worse places than this cold stone floor, but not by much. At least there was a bench in the palace dungeon, and torchlight, flickering from a sconce on the other side of my bars, and a pot to piss in. Such luxury. I probed my jaw with my tongue. Nothing felt broken, only bruised.
I dragged myself off the floor, staggered to the bench, and sprawled on my back. Water dripped from the stained ceiling,plinkinginto puddles.
I couldn’t have been out for long. It was likely still the same night, or early morning.
Somewhere in the palace above me, Albus would have gathered his advisors, doctors would have arrived, the queen’s body may already have been discreetly moved and placed in the nearby house of rest. Once the shock wore off, accusations would fly, and clearly, I was the favored guilty party. Someone had accused me, perhaps some jealous scrote who I’d snubbed at some point.
I had a day or two to plead my innocence before the king shipped me off to the Court of Justice.
And Katina was dead? It didn’t seem possible. Had some accident befallen her after I’d left her chamber? She’d been intoxicated but otherwise well enough, hadn’t she? But if it was an accident, why had the guards come for me?
