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Teigra nodded, her heart aching at what she was being asked to do—to avoid spending time with her only true family—but still thankful that there was some way out.
Ms. Securia narrowed her eyes. “Do thisand perhaps I will not feel the need to inform the senate of your actions.”
Teigra breathed a sigh of relief and made to leave, but Ms. Securia stopped her. “Is it true, Ms. Cosmin, that your father intended for you to join him in the senate when House Cosmin rose to patrician status? That he was training you in worldly affairs for that very purpose.”
She stood still for a long time, eyes downcast and stomach twisting darkly. The future that never was flashed across her mind. It was the future that Teigra had ripped away from him. From House Cosmin. From herself.
“Yes,” she whispered, leaving quickly before the tears could return.
30
AURELIUS
The notes from Aurelius’s pipes fluttered into the hot night—stickier than any he’d ever experienced back home.
He was remaining with the musical theme of the day, playing another of the Nenia therian ballads, this one the “Sonnet of the Siren,” a cautionary tale about a young man who’d exchanged his youth for all the wealth and fame he desired, only to realize that the price he’d paid was worth more than the possessions he’d gained.
Perhaps there was something apt there.
Although, not quite yet.
His games with the prince had only just begun, after all.
A humid breeze kissed his naked body, laying upside down on his bed in the barely furnished insult that was his bedroom. He didn’t care that Securia or Jaspar or even the rather handsome centaur might wander in. In Securia’s case, it might be better that she did—give the old bitch a shock to the system.
At least she’d had the good sense to not try to discipline him. Instead, she had hauled Tiggy off, closing the main door with a filthy glare.
He’d thought of going after her, of telling the old cow to leave Teigra alone. But his cousin had seemed resigned to her fate, just as she’d been when the archon told her to leave the room back in Mestibes.
And as sad as that was, he wouldn’t always be there to save her. She had five years with the woman—or potentially even longer. Perhaps it was time for Teigra to make her own way.
The melody rose and swirled as Aurelius thought back to the bathhouse.
He had recounted the lurid details to Tiggy as they’d wandered back to the embassy, his blood still shimmering with excitement. He’d enjoyed her looks of shock when he’d described the sensations of the prince’s presence. And he’d laughed off her concern, yammering about how there was surely some information in Ms. Securia’s library that could help him.
That was so like her. Tell her you were the horniest you had ever been, and she’d rush to find a cure or make it about some myth or monster.
And he had laughed it off. Because it was all so laughable.
And yet...
He lowered the pipes and stared at the exposed-wood ceiling.
The first time he had felt the animal heat, back in the Pentheon, he’d thought it some twist of his internal sexual desire.
But the second time?
This second time had been even more unnatural. Even more unhinged. Even more unrestrained.
He reached down, his hard dick growing past his belly button at the thought of the prince pressing him back into the corner of the pool.
Just as he was about to give himself the attention his body demanded, he stopped, returning the pipes to his lips.
Most people thought that he was some uncontrolled bundle of debauchery, and he’d rarely sought to disprove that notion—it was far more useful that they underestimated him than know the truth.
Because the truth was that you didn’t get to where he’d gotten by being impulsive and uncontrolled. All his decadence was not impulsivity, but a conscious choice. Calculated moves. Careful steps.
And so, it had to be with the prince, didn’t it? This was not some frivolous romp. He hadn’t come a million miles just to fuck some hunk. There were plenty of men in this city who could smooth that rough edge.
