AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, not at all. Not to me. I understand how you feel.”
Shenya raises her eyebrows. “You have someone back home?”
“Not exactly. There were men who wanted to marry me, but I never felt drawn to any of them. I did take a couple of them to bed—at different times, of course—and we had a good time, but it wasn’t right. When it happens, I need it to feel right. I need to feel secure, stable, to know that he will stand by me no matter what, help with the business, work alongside—” I stop short as the sickening reality slams into me again.
I won’t ever have that. I won’t find the kind of man I wanted. I can’t marry him and work alongside him at the mill, or in my new bakehouse. I can’t have children with him.
My life is here now. The only man I’ll get to bed is the King—probably not very often, since there are so many of us from which he can choose. The only children I’ll have will be his, and they will belong to the Crown, not to me. They will have him for a father—that pompous, cruel, lecherous man, the conqueror and the tyrant. Their inheritance will be stained with innocent blood.
Shenya slides her hand over mine and squeezes lightly, briefly, before letting go. Her eyes are wells of sympathy. She knows why I stopped talking, what I’m thinking.
“We have to make the best of it, somehow,” she murmurs. “Survive, and try to be happy in small ways.”
She has a point, I suppose. But at those words, rebellion flames inside me.
Be happy in small ways…
It’s not enough. Not enough for someone who wants as fiercely as I do, someone who has plenty of love to give and wants to receive love in return. This isn’t enough, and it isn’t right—not just for me, but for Shenya and Nerith, and Alais of Zalos, and my maid, and all the others.
This is wrong. It’s wicked. It must end.
The King is the source of it all. He birthed this idea. He thinks he can do anything he likes without rebuke, without consequence. He’s the fly in the batter, the raisin in the dough. The thing that must be plucked out, or else the whole loaf will be ruined.
What if I plucked him out? What if I ended him and his terrible ways?
I don’t know who would inherit the crown. King Falron has no heir—there’s probably some cousin or other in line for the throne. They can’t be any worse than he is.
I’ll have access to him. I’ll be taken to his room tomorrow night, and we’ll be alone… at least I think we will. But I won’t be allowed to bring a weapon, and I don’t have the physical strength to overpower him—he’s a big man, trained as a warrior.
I need to handle this carefully. I’ll only have one chance. Maybe this first time he fucks me, I should simply observe—watch for holes in his security, learn his weak points. And then, the next time he summons me to bed, I’ll be prepared to strike.
But what if he never calls me to bed again? What if he decides to keep me for my “magic,” and nothing else? I’ll have lost my one chance, the one time I had direct access to him, up close and personal. I need to make sure the King has the time of his life tomorrow night. Which means I’ll have to ply every sexual talent I have on him, even if it sickens me.
“Juliette?” Shenya taps my arm. The other concubines are rising, being escorted outdoors into the sunshine, while I sit at the table, glowering while I plot the King’s death.
I smooth the frown from my forehead and rise with the others, moving toward the terrace.
As I step into the bright gold of the sunshine, I’m momentarily blinded by the flash of light. And for a second I see the spinning wheel turning round and round, magic glittering along its surface, and Rupert’s strong hand guiding the gold thread to the bobbin.
I blink, looking away from the sun. But that doesn’t help, because the sky is so vividly blue today—as brilliantly blue as a certain Half-Elf’s eyes.
Where is he? Dead, fled, or given to the dark?
Will I ever see him again?
11
It took me hours to sort through Rupert Diggs’ mind and find what I needed while keeping him asleep. My magic was already low, so I had to pause a few times to rest and to get food from a nearby pub before I returned to the alley to delve further into his thoughts.
It’s mid-morning before I make it back to the House of Bounty, and by then I’m desperate to see Juliette, to find out what happened between her and the King—how he reacted to the roomful of spun gold.
A few casual inquiries reveal that the girls have just been ushered back to their rooms after breakfast and some time in the gardens, so I make my way to Juliette’s room. This time, there are no guards in that hallway, only in the adjoining corridor; but I barely have time to pick the lock before a servant rounds the corner, carrying a stack of towels, and I have to throw a veil over his eyes to keep him from noticing my presence. I dodge into Juliette’s room and close the door softly behind me.
When I turn around, she’s staring at me. Wearing only a corset, a chemise, and panties. A dress lies over the chair, and a silken set of lounge clothes is draped on the bed.
I’ve caught her in the middle of changing. Thank the goddess and the earth and the sky for this blessed sight. The cups of the corset barely contain her generous breasts, and her deliciously thick belly and thighs are on full display. My eyes travel upward from those delights to the glorious, glossy curls of her rich brown hair, to the delicate rose of her cheeks, to the swell of her lips, to the dark fringe of her lashes, framing brown eyes that are… ah, they’re sparking with anger. I should stop ogling and say something. Anything. Words, idiot, words…
“So you decided to show up,” she says.
