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“Of course, your grace. I’ll be sure the matter is resolved.”
“See that it is,” the high priest replies with a sneer. “My lord Pramis would not like to know his high priests are being treated in such a manner.”
The younger man’s face blanches white, and the high priest seems to preen under the fear, his shoulders straightening and his chin lifting higher.
“He would be very displeased, your grace. Please forgive me.”
“I’ll be in my rooms until afternoon offerings. Do not disturb me.”
The young priest drops into an awkward bob, renewing his apologies as the high priest sweeps away. The hallway remains frozen until the edge of the robe disappears around the corner, then everyone scurries off to their duties.
I jog to the top of the hallway and follow the open walkway to a heavy oak door. It groans when I pull it open, and I creep left, my fingertips trailing across the cool stone. Only one other priest has rooms in this section, and he left in a gilded carriage two days ago. He’s due back tomorrow.
Unsheathing the knife from my belt, I tuck it against my forearm and push open the last door on the right. The priest stands at the washbasin on the far side of the room, dabbing his face with a thick cloth. He glances up when he hears the door snick closed behind me, eyes narrowing on my face.
“What are you doing in here, boy? I said I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
I reach up and remove the cap from my head, my hair tumbling free to frame my face. “I’m sorry, your grace,” I say, forcing a tremble into my voice. “I was told I could seek a private audience with you.”
A lecherous grin stretches across his lips, and he drops the cloth next to the basin. “Of course, my child.” He motions me further into the room and meets me in the center. “I’m always available for those in deepest need. How can I help you today?”
His eyes drop to my lips, and I wet them with my tongue, watching his nostrils flare. “I wish to be wed, but my father will not approve.”
“And you want Lord Pramis to change your father’s heart.”
“Yes, your grace,” I whisper as he moves closer, his robes brushing the tops of my feet.
“A father’s word is law.” He sighs dramatically. “It would take quite a lot to persuade me to go against a father’s wishes and plead your case to Lord Pramis.”
“I’ll do anything to marry my love, your grace.”
“Anything, you say?”
His words make my skin crawl, but I nod. I know what this man is, the way he’s preyed on the women who come to him for help. He delights in humiliating them. And I want to return the favor.
He takes a step back and sinks into a chair piled with cushions. His eyes never leave mine as he slowly undoes the long line of buttons down the front of his robes and parts the fabric to reveal a pair of thin linen breeches underneath.
His cock is small, but the hard outline of it is obvious even before he rubs it lewdly, wrapping his hand around it and giving it a squeeze. I avert my eyes to the floor, and he chuckles, continuing to rub himself.
“You said anything, girl. Come here and beg on your knees with your pretty mouth.”
“But, your grace, I cannot betray my love.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate you learning a thing or two before your wedding night.” He pulls his cock out and gives it a rough tug. “Unless you don’t really want to marry him.”
The weight of my dagger is heavy against my palm as I drop to my knees in front of him. I didn’t doubt the stories I heard from the women who sought me out to tell me about Pramis’s favored high priest. They were why I agreed to kill him in the first place.
But hearing about it and witnessing his depravity firsthand are different things entirely. I’m going to enjoy this more than I expected.
He grins down at me as I crawl between his legs and reaches out a hand to pet my hair when I lick my lips again. They’re going to find him with his pathetic cock hanging out of his pants and his throat cut, and the image bubbles a laugh from my throat.
“What’s so funny?” he barks.
“The stupidity of men.”
Chapter Two
His hand moves to grip my hair, but I’m faster, knocking his arm away and bringing my dagger to the tip of his cock. He squeaks in protest, his eyes glued to the blade as I collect a drop of shiny precum on the steel.
