I hold his gaze.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he snaps.
“Prys…” Llywelyn begins to say but is cut off by Dyfri dismissively waving his hand.
“Has a small prick that I barely felt.” Dyfri takes a seat at the table and helps himself to a small bunch of grapes. “I came here for refuge, not more of the same.”
“Apologies, Brother,” says Llywelyn as he takes a seat across from Dyfri. “Have you heard the news about Lady Freyanogi being with child?”
The pair start to gossip. As if they have no other cares in the world. As if Llywelyn wasn’t just caught with his pet’s cock down his throat. As if Llywelyn never betrayed Dyfri in the worst possible way.
Numbly, I take a seat next to Llywelyn. My thoughts are whirling. I’m not even feeling awkward about being caught in the act. I’m not angsting over the implications of Llywelyn’s sudden desperate need to blow me, though I’m sure that will come later.
No, despite everything that is going on, seeing Dyfri has ignited a wildfire of feelings that are burning all other thoughts from my mind.
Dyfri snaps his fingers in the air and Tae appears seemingly out of nowhere.
“Rooibus tea, if you would, Tae,” says Dyfri.
The little one-winged fairy bows and scurries off. My heart sinks low and heavy. Falling even further than it did the minute Dyfri’s eyes met mine. Oh god, Dyfri knows the names of servants, even ones that are not his.
I pick up a plate and serve myself some chicken. But my appetite has gone. Sitting here is awful. Dyfri is a good person. Clever and cunning and very fey, but absolutely a good person. I had already come to that conclusion. Witnessing further evidence is just adding to the burn of the shame I am feeling. The shame and tremendous, uncomfortable guilt.
Dyfri doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know what Llywelyn did to him.
He is sitting here chatting happily to his brother, and he doesn’t know.
Sure, Llywelyn was manipulated and used, but he still did what he did. And now he is having tea and behaving as if he doesn’t have a guilty bone in his body. As if he didn’t help arrange for Dyfri to be made a rhocyn. A fate and a burden that his little brother suffers from every day. A horrendous act that has shaped Dyfri’s entire life.
I’m not sure I can stand it. I feel suffocated by the weight of this secret. My life has been nothing but secrets. My career has been carved from them. But this one is crushing me.
What the fuck am I going to do?
Chapter nineteen
This shower is amazing. The heat pounding down on my shoulders is forcing some of the tension from my body. If only it could wash all of it away. Along with my dark feelings of guilt.
But mere water has never had that power, and I suspect I will always feel dirty. Never truly clean. Not only because of the fey and their twisted secrets. It would be unfair to blame the entirety of my heavy conscience on them. I’m no innocent soul. I was a Secret Agent for many years before I came here. I have seen things, done things, things that most people couldn’t live with. If heaven is real, it is not for me.
So I really don’t understand why Llywelyn’s involvement in Dyfri’s downfall has me so very rattled. I’m going round and around in circles trying to figure out what my problem is, but I’m getting nowhere. I’m going to have to let it rest, for now.
I sigh and angle my head under the spray. The downside of being in this shower, is that it is getting increasingly hard not to recall the mind-blowing sex I had with Llywelyn in here.
My cock is definitely making the association.
I glare down at it as if it is going to care about my state of mind. Unsurprisingly, it remains stubbornly hard.
I could have a quick wank. Or, I could go to bed where Llywelyn is probably waiting for me. He has been weirdly clingy all day. He will be up for sex. Even if he wasn’t, I have a feeling he wouldn’t say no to me. Not if that frantic blow job is anything to go by.
My stomach squirms uncomfortably. Llywelyn is an asshole. And a victim. And infatuated with me. That is three reasons to not touch him.
But I’m still his pet and he still has no other form of release. This is still a mission and having a game piece besotted with you, is every agent’s dream. My superiors would congratulate me if they knew.
A puppet prince on the throne who thinks he is in love with me? That’s a wet dream for my bosses. And a hell of a Christmas bonus for me. I’ll be able to buy a yacht.
Fucking hell. What a mess. I used to be able to simply roll with whatever was best for the mission. What a frigging time to suddenly develop morals.
