Page 9 of The Dragon King’s Pet

Cutting his losses, Casimer scooped his squirming captive up and tossed her over his shoulder. The act brought a squeal of delight from her crimson painted lips.

“Pretty and strong!”

“Quiet,” he ordered in vain. Her giggling was continuous all the way to the bedchamber he had set aside for her. It was adjacent to his own royal bedroom, a choice he had made out of desire to keep a close eye upon her.

Once safely inside the chamber, he knelt and let her slide from his shoulder onto the bed. She flopped backwards, her smile broad.

“I like this room,” she said. “I like you. This feels like life is supposed to feel. We’re not supposed to be planting napkins.”

Casimer shook his head and began to unfasten her shoes. This was a job for handmaids, but he did it himself, carefully unbuckling the flimsy metal clasp that held the leather to her foot and sliding first one, then the other shoe from her dainty feet. Every part of her was perfectly formed; even her toes had an adorable quality.

“Are you going to take all my clothes off?”

He glanced up to see her blue and gold eyes looking down at him with anticipation.

“I am putting you to bed,” he said. “You need sleep.”

“Putting me to bed,” she giggled. “I’ve been naughty, haven’t I. You don’t know how naughty I’ve been…”

“I have some idea,” Casimer replied, holding back a smile. It would be interesting to see if she remained so utterly unrepentant once the effects of the fungus wore off.

“Here!”

A short skirt caught him about the face. Mika burst into laughter at his shock and dived beneath the blankets, making a satisfied sound.

“I’m in a cloud,” she informed him. “I’m going to sleep in a lovely beautiful cloud, with a lovely beautiful man.”

She closed her eyes and her head fell back against the pillow. For the first time since her arrival, she was quiet.

Casimer remained for some time, gazing down into the sweet sleeping face of a young woman who was already proving to be much more than he had bargained for.

CHAPTER 6

Mika woke in an unfamiliar bed on incredibly soft sheets. The room she found herself in was one of the most grand she had ever been in, which was quite something to say. It was full of precious metals inlaid into every spare surface, diamond and gold and ruby and sapphire and… it looked like the interior of her father’s best customer’s fever dream.

It should have been gaudy, but it somehow retained a certain elegance. This was definitely not her room. It was almost certainly not the same hotel. She checked and double checked the bed to ensure that she hadn’t accidentally slept with a random prince of some kind, but the sheets were prince-less. She let out a little sigh of relief.

“Oh, god,” she groaned, putting her head in her hands. She felt awful. She felt as though she had been taken apart a hundred times and put back together without any kind of care. Every part of her ached, her mouth tasted like dirt, and her head was pounding. There was grit and grot all the way through her body.

Whose room was this? It had to be somebody’s, but she couldn’t see any suitcases, or other personal effects. She went to the door and opened it. To her relief, there was a man standing just outside. He was dressed in the weirdest hotel livery she had ever seen, but she didn’t have time to question his fashion. There was something weird about his face too, but she could barely stand to look at it thanks to her rough condition.

“Hey,” she mumbled, looking at the floor. “Is there room service here? I can’t find the telephone.”

“Return to your quarters,” the doorman said grimly.

“Excuse me?” Mika couldn’t hide her shock at his rudeness. “What’s going on?”

“Return to your quarters,” the man repeated.

“Uhm, no. I need a phone. I have to find my friends,” Mika said. She tried to leave the room, but found herself firmly pushed back inside it. “Hey!” she protested loudly. “Quit that! I need to call my friends, they’re going to wonder where I am.”

The door was closed in her face and when she tried to open it again, it wouldn’t. She’d been locked in.

What the hell was going on? Did this have something to do with the prince with the singed cock? That hadn’t even been her fault. What was going on? She went to the window to see where she was. Maybe she could see her hotel, or at least one of the landmarks. Maybe she could call out for help.

The moment she looked outside, everything got worse. Much worse.

“Oh, fuck,” she cursed to herself. The city outside her window was not Ibiza Town. Gone were the white stacked villas, and the old fortress walls that had risen above them. Gone were the palm trees and the azure sea. In their place was a vast expanse of gleaming buildings that were turreted and domed in diamonds and the same precious jewels that adorned her prison. But it wasn’t the abrupt change in architecture that shocked her the most.