The head of the Royal Guard looks up, and just from that, we all rush out of her office.
Arienna gasps as she turns to me. “Does she ever get less intense?”
Laughing, Fabia hugs a rib as if feeling phantom pain. “Thatwasher being less intense.”
I nod, recalling all too well the nightmares I suffered as a child. “Come,” I tell my queen, wanting to think of better things. “Let us enjoy our wedding night.”
But she shakes her head, backing away from me. “I have to be up at four, and you have no concept of quickies! So no thank you. I am way too exhausted after training.”
“I can go on top.”
She hesitates, then shakes her head firmly. “No.”
Dammit.“I shall see you in the morning then, my queen.” I stride towards her and lower my head to hers. “But I shall spend all night thinking about you as I stroke my cock.”
Whimpering, she pedals back. “Attack, Fabia!” she says with a flail of her hand. But her friend has already gone, as has Nicholas.
I chuckle as I shake my head. “You need to work on your situational awareness.”
“I shall do that.” She stumbles back some more. “Now goodnight, my king.” She grins. “My husband.”
A smile breaks across my face even as she hurries off while my dick is hard and wanting.
But it quickly fades as I think about the rest of the plan.
Evangeline will be able to kidnap the Court’s seconds without a problem. That part doesn’t concern me. But it’s my queen, my beautiful, heart-on-her-sleeve queen, that’ll need to sell the lie of being cruel enough to follow through on her threat.
And godsdamn, is she a terrible liar.
As much as I want to trust in her, I can’t help but fear for the worst.
Fifty-One
A good little slut protects her king.
Whatever the cost.
- Arienna
One by one, Evangeline sneaks the hostages inside a secret room of the castle and freezes them with her magic so they can’t move or scream. There aren’t any guards outside it so as not to draw attention.
“Not even Richard knows of this place,” she says as she shows me in, “and you better not tell him or anyone else.” The room is a decent size, but it’s very sparsely furnished. A bed sits pressed up against a bare wall, and a tall wardrobe stands at the other. “This is one of my safe houses,” she says as she drags Petre’s second –a light-skinned woman with blue hair– in by her ankle.
“Won’t they know where it is?” I ask as I gesture first at her newest kidnappee, then at the others already standing like statues in the room. Their eyes track us, and I smile politely at them as I wave. “Hi.”
“Nah,” Evangeline says. “Their senses are very heavily dulled. They can see light and dark but nothing else until I release them.”
“Oh. Cool.” I walk up to one. “Can they still hear?”
“Yep, but it’s like they’re listening to you talking under water. They won’t be able to make out the words.”
“Oh.” I turn to face her. “Well, thank you for helping me with all this. Richard says you have no friends. Do you want to be my friend?”
She laughs. “Richard is an idiot. I have loads of friends.” She taps her temple. “They’re all in here.”
“Oh! You know telepaths! That’s awesome. I’ve always wanted to talk to a telepath, but we don’t have phones in Brownston.”
She shakes her head. “We do not like her,” she mutters.
