I halt the funny business, and my hand drops to my side immediately.
A gift?
The Prince of Hell got me a gift…that’s…sweet. I guess.
I almost feel bad for leading him on. And yeah, the whole plotting his death stuff too.
“I’d like to make a special announcement tonight,” he says, and I nod quietly as if this is the first I’m hearing of the mysterious announcement. “After the announcement, I’d like to give you a very special gift to tell you how much you mean to me.”
The announcement. He’s going to announce that I’m his new bride of the century!
Confetti shoots off in my mind, and I just want to rub it in Roman’s face that I didn’t lose after all. I won.
And tonight, Prince Ravar will announce it. And then, I’ll fucking kill him to celebrate.
“You’re too generous, my Prince,” I coo.
“And you’re too salacious.” He takes a step toward me like he just can’t help himself.
But.
It seems he can.
His throat bobs, and he stifles a breath and a noise in his throat that sounds like barely contained vomit.
“Tonight,” he confirms as he takes a step back. “I wanted to have a talk with you first,” he declares, motioning toward his room, and at this point I am very assured he’s no longer thinking about sex. He may never think about sex with me ever again.
As it should be.
I smile sweetly and sway my hips this way and that to really stir up that pheromone smell the boys were ranting and raving about not so long ago.
The Prince’s bedroom consists of one thing and one thing only. An enormous circular bed with black satin sheets perfectly fitted across the fluffy mattress.
No quilts but endless pillows adorn the bed. This space isn’t for sleeping, clearly.
Not one chair can be found in the spacious room. A fireplace flames with heat from the wall directly across from the bed, but other than that, there’s nothing else to see here.
I make myself at home and sit comfortably on the plush mattress.
He winces.
Oh, I am just killing him right now.
Just to really—literally—rub it in, I fall back against the smooth sheets and stare up at his glittering black ceiling.
“You wanted to talk?” I ask in a sultry voice.
“Yes,” he coughs, and I’m very aware of how much space he’s keeping between us.
I roll over and keep going until I pop back up and face him, my scent almost getting the best of me in this moment, but I’m too good to gag at my own smells.
At least…I think I am. My stomach turns, but I swallow the thick, sickly sensation down.
“I wanted to know about your life. Your family are white wolves?” His hand half covers his mouth in a less than discreet appearance of subtlety.
“Yes. From the upper realm. I lived in a quiet forest south of the Kingdom of Borne.” I keep the pretty smile in place, but I’m suddenly aware of how careful I should tread. I haven’t won yet. And now he’s quizzing me rather than eating up the pretty words I always feed him.
“What does your beast look like, Cersia? Is she as beautiful as you? Does she have an angry streak in her?” The depths of his inky gaze are intently held on me, and I shift as I cross my legs casually.
