“Well. You can borrow my sewing kit,” Eaton says brightly, turning on his heels and clapping for us to follow.
“Don’t push it, I think it’s herfemaletime,” the younger brother, Landyn, murmurs to Eaton.
“Pfft,” he scoffs. “Is it ever not?”
“Hey.” I tug on Zadyn’s arm and drop my voice. “How do you know we can trust the princes?”
He gives me a soft smile. “Well, for one, I’ve known them a long time. They’re good, loyal people. And of course, it helps that Eaton’s always been a little in love with me,” he boasts.
I can’t help but chuckle. “One of the many, I’m sure.”
We drop by our rooms to grab cloaks, and then we’re filing out into the freezing night and loading into a carriage. The mountain roads are bumpy, jostling us every few seconds as we wind down the narrow path.
“So.” Eaton bumps my arm, waggling his brows.
“So what?”
“Did you bring her?” He lowers his voice and leans in. “The dragon,” he all but mouths.
I snicker. “Yes.”
“Can I see her?”
I have swam in rivers of blood and feasted on the bones of my enemies. Please inform the boy prince that I am no sideshow curiosity to be ogled.
Ignoring Furi’s homicidal commentary, I answer, “Yes, you can see her tomorrow. But just to warn you, she only allows Zadyn to pet her. And me, of course.”
“Of course.” He cranes his neck to peer at Zadyn, who rolls his eyes.
The carriage slows to a stop, and we step out into a village teeming with life. People bustle down the busy avenues and torchlit bridges, bundled in fur-lined cloaks and tightly wrapped scarves. A light dusting of snow covers the homes and shops lining the unevencobblestone streets, their curtained windows lit from within. The city is quaint and charming in a way I’d expect the North Pole to be.
We stop before an unmarked door. “Hoods up,” Eaton says, a wickedness in his voice.
I glance up at Zadyn. “Where are we?”
“You’re about to find out.”
Eaton knocks twice, and the door creaks open. Warm candlelight pours out as a voluptuous redhead appears in the threshold, eyeing us up one at a time.
Eaton holds out a small velvet purse, which she dumps into her palm. Seeming content with the silvers, she gives us a toothy smile and holds the door for us to pass.
Long gauzy curtains are staggered throughout the space, creating a depthless illusion. Bodies move between the suspended panels, and from their silhouettes, it is very clear that they are very naked.
I clap a hand over my mouth. “Oh my god, this is a pleasure hall?!”
Zadyn chuckles and nods.
“The one in Vod didn’t look like this.”
“Thatwas not a pleasure hall. That was a high-end brothel with a very specific clientele. This place is more like…a local dive.”
Arms linked, we make our way into the endless maze. The shadows dance behind the low-lit strips of cloth, intertwining in time to the music. The cloying scent of sex and sweat rolls over us. It’s palpable.
I sneak glances at the shadowy figures in various states of undress. Limbs entangle, writhing on velvet settees. They kneel on soft throws and floor pillows, locked in intimate embraces. My cheeks heat, the urge to cover my eyes growing with every step, but no one else seems to bear the same sense of shame. Instead, they look on unabashedly, their gazes returned by hungry, lust-ridden eyes.
We approach a wall of thick crimson curtains, rhythmic music thumping from the other side. I cling to Zadyn.
“You okay?” He smirks down at me.
