Page 28 of His King Enslaved

“Oh, your highness,” Ambani sighed, closing the door behind her. “You’re even more besotted than before.”

“I will never wash this hand!” Sindar boomed into the pillow, and he lifted his right hand high. He lifted his face and grinned at his best friend. “I please him. He told me so.”

“There will be no living with you,” Ambani said, shaking her head. “You’ll be distracted all day now.”

The grin on his face faded as the soft warmth of sexual exhilaration faded and reality gripped him with icy hands. He sat, swinging his legs around. “Bani, I want to renegotiate the marriage contract as soon as possible.”

“Lord Patel and I have discussed it. Since you are asking for more lenient terms, it will be easiest if we simply keep the current agreement in place for now and choose not to enforce a breach of contract.”

“No,” Sindar said. “I want it in writing. I don’t want anyone saying Ardor didn’t hold up his end of the bargain.”

“Your Highness, we’ve already opened the door to renegotiations by requesting the champion, and those negotiations are not going in our favor. The Archon will—“

“I don’t give a damn what she does or thinks or wants! She signed his death warrant.” But as soon as the words were out, he understood his error in thinking. The Archon agreed to Ardor’s death, but Xandar was the one who pushed for it.

Xandar. Now that he was out of that glorious, sacred marital bed, Sindar allowed his thoughts to sharpen to talons. His brother must be dealt with. Now. He wouldn’t wait a second longer. Nothing could stand between him and Ardor.

Abruptly, Sindar rose. “Where is he?”

Unease passed over Ambani’s face. “Your Highness, you are deeply besotted right now. Take some time to cool down.”

“You need me to play along with this ruse of yours. Tell me where he is.”

Ambani’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Get dressed.”

It was too late. The realization that everything he’d worked to achieve could all be undone by his brother was hitting hard and fast. If Sindar didn’t get that contract changed and Xandar came back, Ardor was doomed. Even if he changed it, Xandar would not accept the new terms. He didn’t want Ardor to thrive and help parent their children. He wanted a short-term broodmare, and he didn’t give a damn what happened to the Flower when his work was done.

Sindar’s love-drenched heart burned feverishly as he grabbed the front of his best friend’s blouse. “You tell me where he is right fucking now, or I will beat it out of you.”

Ambani swallowed, her eyes narrowing as Sindar backed her against the wall, but she held her ground. “Sindar, you’re not yourself right now. After what happened at the ceremony, you cannot possibly be in your right mind. You must stand down.”

“After what happened at that ceremony, I know I’m right to protect him at any cost. I’m through being a coward. Tell me where that bastard is. Don’t make me choose, Ambani. Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Sindar, listen to me,” she snapped. “You’ve had direct contact with nectar for the first time. You are not thinking clearly.”

Nectar. He’d spent a fevered, desperate night reading everything the palace library offered on flowers, which wasn’t much, but he knew the term. Nectar was a lubricating secretion unique to flowers. Male flowers did not produce sperm of their own, hence the lack of testicles. They ejaculated nectar when aroused. The bloom also secreted nectar. What did that have to do with lopping off Xandar’s miserable, evil head?

“Yes, and? What is your point?”

Her pointedness had already blunted his anger. Even in his fervor, he accepted that there was a lot more he didn’t know. He didn’t resist when she slapped his hands away and smoothed her blouse. “Get dressed. You will discuss the matter with Lord Patel.”

All at once, Sindar realized what he’d done. He’d backed his best and truest friend into a corner and threatened bodily harm. He’d threatened his beloved Ambani, of all people. What the devils was wrong with him?

“Oh,” he said. “Shit. Bani, I—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s all right,” she snapped, but her tone told the truth: it absolutely was not all right. “Get dressed.” It was a testament to her irritation that she did not insist he allow the staff to dress him, as a proper king would. He did as she commanded, his mind racing.

What was the problem with nectar? Clearly, it was more than a lubricant.

As he dressed, Ambani stepped into the hall. Murmured voices, including Patel’s, echoed through the closed door, and Sindar suddenly felt like an upstart schoolboy sent to the headmaster’s office.

When Patty entered, he was alone.

Sindar’s heart clenched. He’d really screwed up. “Where’s Bani gone?”

“Away from you,” Patty said evenly. “Your brother never forgets a slight, perceived or otherwise, and Lady Ambani was a daily reminder of the alleged coup. Do you think her service to His Majesty has been easy?” A lump formed in Sindar’s throat as his mentor glared at him. Xandar would have kept Ambani around for one reason: to make her suffer. All these years, Xandar had surely made her life miserable. “Have you learned nothing from me?” Patel asked. “Never threaten an ally like that! Never! I should switch you myself. I still might.”

Sindar sat at his desk, watching as his mentor circled around to his own chair. “What’s wrong with nectar?” he asked, a bit petulantly. “Are Flowers not allowed to enjoy themselves? Is there some mandate amongst the royal families to make this process as inhumane as possible?”