My mind flounders, trying to make sense of everything. It pulls up images of playing with Llywelyn’s plump nipples and how good it felt for me and how it seemed to drive him wild.
“Is it something to do with your omega traits?” I say.
He blinks several times. “I…I don’t know. I don’t think so. Nobody really knows much about…” he trails off.
Okay, he knows jack shit about these omega traits of his. We are going to have to find a fey library or something and do some research.
He bites his bottom lip and gives me a worried look. Shit. He seemed almost happy, earlier. Still a little blissed out and awed. Looking at me like I was the inventor of orgasms and his own personal sex god. I liked it.
But now I’ve gone and made him all anxious and concerned. And I don’t like it.
“Hey,” I say with a bright smile. “It’s fine. I guess it was simply really good sex.”
Pink floods his cheeks. He drops my gaze and hastily nods his agreement.
My heart thumps. Llywelyn is a little sweetie when he takes off the arrogant douchebag act. I’m ashamed I didn’t see it at first. Understanding people is supposed to be my thing. So how did I get him sowrong?
“It’s late,” he murmurs without looking at me. “Your plans for the day must be ruined.”
He is framing it as a statement, but I hear the apology. He bottomed for me, again, and allowed me to fuck his brains out, and now he is apologising for ruining my schedule.
“It’s alright,” I say. “I wanted to work on our who’s-who of the fey court today. There is still plenty of time for that.”
His eyes lift up to meet mine and I’m dazzled.
“We don’t need to go out today?” he asks, and the hopefulness in his voice is lassoing around my heart.
“Not today,” I reassure, as I firmly delete all the plans I had made from my mind. There is no rush. There will be other days.
He rewards me with a tiny smile and my heart does something strange.
I clear my throat. “When is the next big event in the fey social calendar?” Blurting it out quickly before I do something stupid like tell him he can stay in the comfort of his rooms forever.
“There is a banquet tomorrow night.”
I nod. I remember Prys talking about it. “Alright, we will go to that, but until then you can teach me everything I need to know about how everyone is connected.”
I’m pretty sure I drilled him effectively when I first got here. He has already spilled his useful knowledge. But there might be more. He trusts me now. And it won’t hurt to check. I’m not being soft, I’m being sensible.
He gives me another tiny smile, and the relief in his eyes makes them sparkle. I swallow tightly. Even if I am being soft, it’s worth it.
I’ve nearly survived my first banquet. Helped no doubt by the fact I’ve been given a seat beside Llywelyn and I don’t have to kneel by his feet.
He looks magnificent tonight, and it is extremely distracting. His white and gold robes are exquisite. His antlers are majestic and his golden hair is gleaming.
He has not said a word all evening, presumably because I’m the only person who will talk to him in public. He has kept his head up and managed to look haughty and disinterested rather than miserable and alone. Even so, I’m really looking forward to throwing him on his bed, stuffing him with my cock and making him happy.
The festivities appear to be winding down, so I expect we will be leaving soon. Thankfully.
It has been an experience, I have to admit that. Hundreds of people in a huge hall in a palace. A thousand courses of delicious food. Music, fire breathers and dancers. All very medieval. It is a little overwhelming being confronted with just how much my world has been changed.
However, culture shock aside, I’m not sure I’ve learnt anything particularly useful. I overheard a lot of idle gossip. Everybody seems content with Rhydian and the riches conquering a new world has given them. But then again, I’m seated four seats down from the crown prince. It is very likely people are being mindful of what they are saying.
I look down the table at Prys. He has been behaving and has given no indication that he suspects anything of me. It is too early to be sure, but it is looking like he has brushed my outburst off. He thinks I’m simply a crazy human pet.
But for the last thirty minutes, his cold black eyes have been returning to Dyfri, again and again. And it is making me highly suspicious.
I cast a quick discreet glance over the dark-haired prince. He is leaning back in his chair, holding a silver goblet of wine near to his lips. His long, loose raven-dark hair has a lustrous sheen to it. I know it being unbound represents awful things, but it looks damn good. As do the black horns that curl backwards close to hishead. His dark eyes appear fixed on the dancers in the middle of the room, even though he has a slightly bored expression on his face. If he has noticed Prys’s staring, he is pretending otherwise.
