My mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. I don’t know how to explain that I called the King an asshole and broke his antique whiskey bottle without actually saying those words out loud.
“There was an incident,” I manage. “In the King’s chambers. I thought?—”
“Ah.” She waves a hand dismissively. “His Majesty mentioned something about a broken decanter. Accidents happen. The cost will be deducted from your pay in small increments — don’t worry, it won’t affect you much.”
I’m paying for the decanter. Okay. That’s fair. But— “He specifically requested I continue?”
“Yes. Quite clear about it.” Mrs. Vasek tilts her head, studying me with sudden interest. “Did something else happen?”
I called him an asshole. I forgot to bow. I didn’t say Your Majesty until after I’d already told him off. I was going through his personal desk drawers. I got so aroused by his presence that I suspect I’ve ruined my underwear. He looked at me like he wanted to either kill me or devour me and honestly I would have been fine with either.
“No,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Nothing else.”
Mrs. Vasek pats my arm. “He’s intense, I know. But you’ll get used to him. Seven sharp tomorrow. Don’t be late — he notices.”
She hands me a hard copy of the schedule and leaves.
I stare at the paper in my hands. The man who clearly despises me wants me within arm’s reach on a daily basis.
Why?
The next morning,I walk through the castle corridors toward the King’s chambers with my stomach in knots. I barely slept. My mind kept spinning through everything that happened yesterday, and everything that might happen today.
The guilt is the worst part. Iwasgoing through his desk, looking at his private things. He caught me red-handed with that family photograph in my hands and my excuse was pathetic.I was dusting and this fell.Even I wouldn’t believe that lie.
What must he think of me? That I’m a spy? A thief? Some creepy stalker obsessed with his family photos?
I want desperately to explain. To tell him the truth.My brother is spiraling. He’s been radicalized by people who told him vampires stole his fiancée through glamour. I took this job to prove him wrong. I was looking for evidence that Krovenians can’t mind-control people, not evidence that they can. I was trying to help.
But I can’t say any of that. It sounds insane. I wouldreallyget fired. And honestly, it wouldn’t change what I did. I violated his privacy. I went through his personal belongings. He has every right to be furious.
The anger still simmers underneath the guilt. I purse my lips. Yes, I was wrong to snoop but he called humans stupid. Unworthy of his goodwill. Even if I deserved criticism for my actions, I didn’t deserve that.
We’re enemies now. He made that perfectly clear.
So why keep me? Why assign me to his private chambers instead of sending me to the stables like he threatened? If he thinks I’m a spy, putting me in his bedroom every day is the stupidest thing he could do. Unless he wants to watch me. Catch me in the act again. Have a real excuse to throw me out.
I lift my chin. Fine. If that’s his game, I won’t give him the satisfaction.
I think about the practical reasons to stay. The pay here is excellent, better than anything I’d find back home. Three months of this salary would make a real dent in my student loans. And having “Krovenia Royal Household” on my resume? That opens doors. And I like Mrs. Vasek and the like the other staff I’ve met. The castle is beautiful, the food is amazing, and honestly, I don’t want to leave. I really want to finish out this work assignment here at the castle.
It’s just him. Just King Nikolai. The arrogant, infuriating, unfairly attractive vampire who apparently thinks my entire species is beneath him.
I can handle one person.
Then there’s Derek. His text from this morning is still unanswered on my phone.Any updates? Don’t go soft on me, Claire.
Should I keep trying to gather intel after almost being fired? Part of me thinks I should abandon the mission entirely. It’s too risky. One more incident and I’m definitely gone. But Derek is getting worse. He sent me four articles last night about “vampire mind control” from sketchy, shadowy internet influencers. He’s missed two days of work this week. The conspiracy theories are eating him alive. If I could just find something concrete, some kind of proof that glamour isn’t real...
I can’t decide. I’ll figure it out later. Right now I just need to survive this shift.
I reach his door and pause to take a breath.
He’s in meetings. Mrs. Vasek said he’s always in council meetings in the mornings and I’ll have the chambers to myself. Clean quickly, do everything right, get out before he returns, then move onto the other rooms on this floor.
This is the plan. This is a good plan.
I knock softly, following protocol. No answer. Good.
