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“If you were anyone else, no. But you are his queen,” Aeris replied. “You have to know so that you can protect him in battle as he will protect you. Husband and wife. Mate and eternal mate. Your weaknesses end where the other’s strength begin.”
“Too right you are,” I murmured, gazing at the ash. “Thank you for telling me, Aeris. Thank you very much.”
Soon Aeris finished combing my hair, then braided it into a single braid for bed. Meya knew the mattress called to me louder than it ever did before. How could it not when I spent the last two nights beneath Alisdair, instead of beneath the sheets.
I wanted sleep, but that would have to wait.
I paused at the threshold. “Eadaoin, are you coming with me?”
“I am, my queen, but if I smell him coming, I will have to leave. I may be your guard, but you made promises to your mate before Meya. No one is allowed to come between that.”
It’d be a long time before I got used to the word mate. These were such old words, for old traditions, borne in an ancient world we left behind when we left the forests and decided we wanted to live like the humans.
“I understand. This is between me and Alisdair.” Bradach flashed through my mind. “I don’t want anyone else hurt for standing between us.”
I set off, knowing Eadaoin would follow.
“Will you be running through the village?” Eadaoin asked. “I’m sure all the plotters were taken out in the attack, but in case there are more lurking in the village, a disguise wouldn’t go amiss.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going into the village. I’m not running at all tonight.”
Her white whiskers twitched. “You’re not?”
“No need. I’ll be on my way tomorrow night. I’ve waited this long, I can hold out for one more night.”
“Then where are we going?”
“I was hoping for a tour of the castle. More specifically, the servants’ quarters.”
She gave me a funny look, but shrugged. “As you wish, my queen.”
EADAOIN LED ME THROUGHwinding halls, reaching staircases, and grand rooms.
I asked to see the servants’ quarters, but she took her time, leading me on a tour of the castle. With every minute that passed, I relaxed... because Alisdair wasn’t coming.
There was no way he couldn’t find me. I wasn’t hiding or masking my scent. He was free to pounce and straddle me any time. Either he wasn’t because arguing with him about the fox boy and granting Meallan his favor pissed him off so much he wanted rid of me. Or, he was seriously injured when he shielded my body from an avalanche of falling stone, and he was holed up somewhere recovering.
I wasn’t sure which truth I wanted it to be.
“—and this, my queen, is the servants’ hall.” She threw open double doors. “This is where we take our meals and our breaks. Although, we don’t have to break in here. Our lord gives us freedom to roam the castle. I myself prefer to lunch in the gardens.”
“Uh-huh,” I croaked, eyes darted around. “It’s nicer here than I expected. The servants’ quarters in the castle Lyrica is— It’s— It’s—”
I tried to speak of the plain, undecorated, utilitarian space I was forced in that fateful night in the castle, but the words wouldn’t come out. That’s when I realized Emiana had no idea what the servants’ quarters were like in her own home. She never bothered to look.
“I don’t know what it’s like,” I finished. “But I’m going to guess it’s nothing like this.”
“Hmm. Because the bookshelves, couches, and art?” Eadaoin asked. She gasped. “Or are their quarters even grander? All of Elva knows nothing can rival the beauty of the Crystal Palace.”
“Uhh, no.” I flushed hard. “That wasn’t the difference I was thinking of.”
The faeriken man finally lost—or won?—the tug-of-war with his cock, and threw his head back, glutes tightening. He perched on the dining tabletop, roughly ejaculating on the face of a pretty young woman with brilliant white feathers where hair should be. Said woman bent over the table, balancing on tiptoe, while another guy pounded her ass from the back.
It had been like this in nearly every room we walked into, and more than a few of the open hallways. Faeriken in heat going at each other like the continuation of the species depended on them.
Continuation of the species?a voice scoffed.Unless these three need a conversation from their mamas on where babies come from, they know full well none of the things they were doing would result in a baby.
This wasn’t out-of-control heat cycles driving them to reproduce. This was sex. Pure and simple.
