I down the rest of my coffee and hurry back to the bedchamber. I’m not really sure why I want to keep my search for charms from Llywelyn. Habits, training, my inability to trust. Or simply the fact that I’m a secretive bastard at heart. Whatever the root cause, I know I’m incapable of just telling him that I want to look.
I slink around the bedchamber. Feeling under surfaces. Peering into shadowy corners. I try to lift the mattress up but it is impossibly heavy. I’m going to need Tae’s help to check there. In the meantime, there are plenty of other places for me to look.
I work swiftly, with practised ease. It feels strange to be searching for magic charms instead of listening devices and hidden cameras, but the premise is the same.
As I slide out the bottom drawer of a beautifully carved chest of drawers, I realise the bottom is false. A few taps, and I find the release. The secret compartment opens up and I blink in surprise.
It is crammed full of what looks like stuffed toys. They are made of some sort of crocheted material and have freaky buttons for eyes. And they are woodland creatures like wolves and deer andfoxes, rather than the generic teddy bear style. But they still very much resemble stuffed toys.
As I’m staring in bewilderment, I hear Llywelyn step into the bedroom. I don’t try to cover up my discovery. I don’t think there is time. And I need to ask him about this.
I sense him freeze behind me as he sees what I’m looking at.
“Are these yours?” I ask.
“Yes,” he croaks weakly.
“Are they voodoo dolls?” They certainly look creepy enough.
“What is a voodoo doll?”
I turn around and face him. “Effigies. You stick pins in them and the intended victim feels it.”
His golden eyes flash. “Yes. Yes, that is exactly what they are.” He lifts his chin up and a hint of pink traces down his cheekbones.
I lick my dry lips. “I can tell when you are lying.”
He jerks as if struck and drops his gaze. The pink turns to a fierce red. “They hold no magic or purpose. I…I just enjoy making them.”
My eyebrows rise. Prince Llywelyn Y Mabinogi crochets stuffed toys in his spare time? I say nothing and let a thick silence fall. Rule 101 in interrogation.
“I…I.” He stops and clears his throat. “I used to keep them on that shelf, and sometimes my bed. But when I knew an agent was coming to help me, I put them away.”
His words hit me like a splash of cold water and suddenly I’m not thinking of soft toys or magic charms. I’m considering something that has never crossed my mind before.
A blast of rage momentarily blinds me. My thoughts race through the idea that someone else could have been given this mission. My mind flicks through the other agents that I know and who could have been assigned. I imagine each one of them here. Pretending to be Llywelyn’s pet. Sharing his bed. Hearing his nightmares. Learning his secrets. Exploiting them. ManipulatingLlywelyn into falling for them. Encouraging Llywelyn to spread his legs for them.
I jump to my feet. Llywelyn steps back. My fists clench by my side as my stomach rolls. I can’t bear it, can’t stand it. The thought of anyone else touching Llywelyn, taking advantage of his vulnerability, is making me want to scream in fury.
It is making me realise the power imbalance between us. I’m a highly trained Special Agent with years of experience. He has his flaws, but at the core of it all, he is a lonely, vulnerable young man. One that fucking makes stuffed toys in his spare time and snuggles them in bed.
He never stood a chance against me.
I’m a dark, insidious influence. I’m going to put him on his brother’s throne so my superiors can use him. Nothing I’ve done to him, and nothing I’m planning to do to him, is for his benefit.
He has spent his life as a chess piece and I’m just the latest player.
Llywelyn eyes me warily. His cheeks are still flushed. He is ashamed of his stuffies, and now he is scared because I’ve flown into an inexplicable rage.
I force myself to breathe calmly. I focus on the feel of the plush carpet against my bare toes. It is fine. None of the other agents are here to abuse Llywelyn. I am. I am the one who is here. I’m the one who gets to use him.
But I can be mindful of my power. I can treat him as kindly as the mission allows. I can give him multiple orgasms a night.
Oh god. I run my hand over my face. I’m so screwed. This is such a tangled, hopeless mess.
I shake my head and finally, finally pull myself together. I fix Llywelyn with a bright, teasing smile.
“You make stuffies? That is so cute!”
