The third person doesn’t look like he wants to be there at all. The shadows are obscuring him. All I can make out is black robes and dark hair brushing a slender waist.
Wait. Is that Dyfri?
My feet slow even more. The woman’s words reach my ears.
“We used to have so much fun,” she purrs.
“I have many memories,” Dyfri says in a sweet tone.
I blink. That didn’t sound like him at all, but I’m suddenly quite certain that it is. And I can’t help noticing that he didn’t say his memories were happy ones.
“So, come play tonight,” drawls the woman. “I want to see my new husband take you.”
The man makes a noise of pure excitement and avarice.
“And after that, you can both use your tongues on me,” she adds.
“I’m flattered,” coos Dyfri. “But sadly I must decline. I am expected at the ball.”
“Arriving when you thought I would have left,” huffs the woman.
I’m almost level with them now. Close enough to see the wicked gleam in her eyes.
“Not at all,” protests Dyfri.
The woman sighs, and the threat in it would make Mother proud. “The law was changed so your kind need to be asked. Not that you never need to spread your legs, Rhocyn.”
“I am aware.” Dyfri’s voice is soft. With no emotion in it at all.
I’m creeping past now and nearly away. Nobody has noticed me, thank heavens.
“So come to my bed. Entertain me. Show my husband how well unseelie half-breeds take cock. You have graced no one's bed in an age. People have noticed. People are talking.”
I’ve passed them now. I can’t run just yet, though. Just a few more steps, and everything will be fine.
However, a sad, resigned-sounding exhale has me looking over my shoulder just in time to see Dyfri’s shoulders slump in defeat.
Horror stops me in my tracks. I assumed this woman was simply being awful. I didn’t think her bark had anybite. But now everything that was just said is slotting together like puzzle pieces in my mind.
I know Dyfri is a rhocyn and he has to wear his hair down, which he doesn’t like. I know I’m not supposed to curtsy to him even though he is a prince. I know Selwyn said that rhocyn were treated cruelly.
And now, with everything I just eavesdropped on, I finally understand.
For whatever reason the fey have twisted and created and invented, someone who is a rhocyn has to… to…
“No!” I exclaim suddenly.
The woman and man whirl to face me. I turn to face them. They both bow and mutter, “Your Highness.”
Dyfri’s dark eyes bore into me.
I swallow tightly.
The woman smiles with too many teeth. “How lovely to cross paths with you, Your Highness. I am taking Prince Dyfri to my bed. Do you think I should give him an aphrodisiac to make it even more fun?”
What the hell? Who says stuff like this? Why on earth does she think she can rope me into her cruelty?
“No!” I blurt again, this time in outrage.
