Well, she certainly was good at speaking like a queen. “And what of the others who have been forced to steal from the crown in order to feed those the nobility has little care for?” I enquired between bites of dark meat. “Your cook has a fair hand with peppercorn and mountain sage.”
Raewyn leaned over her dish of eels. The others appeared to be growing more tight around the mouth by the second.
“There are laws on how the navy deals with those who steal from the crown,” Raewyn snapped back, the brown scars on her cheek growing darker with her pique.
“Oh aye, we know well the laws the navy follows when it comes to those of us who borrow from the nobles to distribute to the needy,” I said, waving a hand into the air, blue sigils flaring to life around my fingers as ice wine rose from an open bottle in front of V’alor and splashed joyously into my empty goblet. A pulse from the lucent in my pocket was a pleasant feeling of familiarity in an unfamiliar setting. Aelir’s mouth fell open, as did V’alor’s and Lady Merrilyn’s, as I showed off a bit. The queen was too angry to be agog.
“I am not wholly sure that your kind take the goods they steal from hard-working farmers and craftsmen then turn around to feed the indigent,” Raewyn fired back.
I sipped my wine, noting I had left greasy fingerprints on the glass before my sight went to the queen.
“Have you ever come to Quinn’s Quay to see how the ships that we sail are unloaded or the goods handed out?” I asked in my most polite tone.
“I did not intend for this meal to turn into a heated discourse over—”
Aelir was cut off by his wife. A common thing for a husband to endure, to be sure. “How would I have come to Quinn’s Quay or any other privateers’ stronghold when the moment your people see a naval ship, you attack and sink it?”
“We rarely sink a ship. Getting the goods from the bottom of the sea is incredibly difficult. We prefer to weaken a vessel and then board it to plunder the hold,” I explained to all in attendance before I took another bite of pheasant. “As for the crew, we most generally leave them be unless they attack us when we board. Then we must defend ourselves, as is a given right under the bylaws of the seafarers’ society.”
“The seafarers’ society?What manner of bullshit are you trying to push down our gullets?!” Raewyn shouted, her hands slapping the table as she shot to her feet. Petite she may be, but when riled, she was most formidable. “You thieves and murderers may call yourselves the seafarers’ society or any other nonsensical moniker you dream up, but that does not change the fact that you and your crew have stolen countless thousands of gold coins from the crown with little to no remorse to be shown!”
“Enough!” Aelir barked just as a servant bearing dessert snuck into the solar, the young girl’s eyes round as a ship’s wheel. She placed a large red raspberry cake with white icing drizzled over the four tiers of bright red cake on the table, curtsied, and raced out the servants’ door. “Enough. Raewyn, please take your seat.” The queen sat but did so with marvelous attitude. I rather liked her spirit. Most queens were meek, little, biddable things raised to pop out heirs like a brood mare, but this noble elf was not of that ilk. “Thank you.” Aelir glanced at V’alor, who said nothing, merely returned to cutting into his very rare venison with precision. A man used to using a blade and seeing blood on his plate. Noted. “This meal was not intended to devolve into a political spat. I deal with those day inand day out. Now, may we just enjoy the food Widow Poppy has prepared for us?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I murmured softly as a stilted silence fell over the table. The heavy rain quieted outside. I enjoyed knowing I had made my point. That was an inherited trait that rankled mostly everyone who did not boast Cadere as their surname. Pity Le’ral had not been here. I suspected he would have enjoyed the discussion, or if not, the pheasant. Perhaps I would take him some cake and fill him in on the evening’s chitchat. He did owe me a tour after all…
THE LOOKS I GOT AS I PARADED ABOUT THE CASTLEwith a guard toting a slice of cake on a plate was wildly entertaining.
It appeared many had never seen a dashing pirate delivering a slab of cake to a grand advisor before. Not that they knew I was seeking out Le’ral Fylson in the hopes of seducing him with cake. I had no clue if the elf liked sweets. If not, I would gladly volunteer to eat it off his chest for him, or any other part of his body he deemed erotic. It had been nearly two fortnights since I’d last given someone a good, hard frogging.
“This is the grand advisor’s quarters,” the guard informed me as we stopped at one door of hundreds in this ridiculous keep. Truly, did the ruler of this country need such grandiose living quarters?
“Thank you. You may return to your duties.” I rapped soundly on Le’ral’s door. “I plan to stay the night.”
My escort gawked at me. “I shall stay at your side until given leave to go by someone trustworthy.”
I placed a hand on my chest. “Guardsman, I am truly broken. Your lack of trust in me has left my heart in shattered bits.” He rolled his eyes. “And now you add disbelief to my agony.”
The door creaked open to show me Le’ral Fylson, who made the cake I carried pale in comparison, and I adored cake. His hair was disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through the short mahogany mass. He wore loose lounging pants toppedwith a silken robe. Hairless chest exposed in the gap of the soft green robe. His feet were bare. My cock began to thicken.
“Ah, Le’ral, I come bearing gifts of cake to fortify you for the tour you promised me.” I held out the cake. Le’ral, to his credit, only looked taken aback for the blink of an eye.
“This guest of the king has informed me that you are expecting him to stay overnight?” my escort blurted out.
That one made Le’ral’s dark eyes flare. A twist of his lips told me he wasn’t all that put out with me.
“This guest of the king thinks highly of himself,” Le’ral commented as I peeked around him to spy two ravens lurking about on his balcony, the soft rain rolling off their ebony feathers. Le’ral stepped into my line of sight as he plucked the cake from my hand. “But his offer of cake is appealing. I’ll see him back to his quarters. You are dismissed.”
The guard shot me a dark look before inclining his head to stalk down the hall. I leaned a shoulder to the doorway, arms crossed, to rake a hot look over the older elf in naught but his sleeping clothes. With the light from a few oil lamps and a robust fire in the hearth glowing in his rooms, I could see the shape of his thighs through his pants. Nice meaty thighs. Perfect for spreading wide open.
“I must apologize,” he said. I ran a finger through the icing on his slice of cake. My prick kicked when he watched me bring that sweet finger to my lips. “I had a spat of late correspondence arrive that required my immediate attention.”
“Mm, vanilla with a hint of pine nut. Lovely.” I licked my finger clean. His nostrils flared. “So you were working and not lounging abed. Pity. I was hoping I could tuck you back into your covers and then join you.”
“I was under the impression you were here for the tour of the castle.” He stood his ground, not pushing me away nor inviting me in for a night of what surely would be phenomenal fucking.
“Oh, well, that can always be done at another time. It’s grown late. An elf of your age should get his rest so he can face the following day with vigor.”
His smile was a quick one, but oh, what it did to the man. The laugh lines just starting at the corners of his eyes deepened. It pulled his lush lips upward.
