A Court Bright and Broken (Age of Fae #1)

30. Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 30

Dirty Little Secret

R aewyn

In one smooth move, Stellon slid from the bed to the floor, taking me with him. We didn’t even make a thud somehow as we landed side-by-side.

“Are you all right?” he whispered. “Did I hurt your ankle?”

In truth it hadn’t felt good , but I shook my head no.

“Lie down,” he instructed. “I’m going to push you underneath the bed. Do not come out until I say it’s safe—and don’t make a sound .”

The tone of his voice and the look on his face told me it was of life and death importance that I follow his advice. I nodded rapidly and lay flat as he shoved me beneath the bed.

The dress I’d been wearing, the one I’d dropped at the bedside earlier, followed before he let the dust ruffle fall into place, cutting off my view of the room.

No sooner had Stellon resumed his position atop the bed than the bedroom door opened.

The King’s voice was a bellow now without the buffer of a closed door.

“Stellon? Where the blazes are you, boy?”

The footsteps came to a stop.

“What are you doing in bed at this hour?” the king asked. “Alone? Why did you leave the party so early?”

“I was tired. I haven’t been sleeping well since Lady Wyn’s disappearance,” Stellon said.

His voice was surprisingly steady as he lied to his father. He even sounded relaxed, as if he’d been asleep moments ago instead of busy sending my pulse rate soaring through the high ceiling.

The footsteps resumed, coming closer to the bed then walking around it, as if the king was surveying the room. Did he suspect something?

It was hard to stay still with my nerves popping and firing the way they were.

“Well that was a mistake from beginning to end. I still don’t know what came over you that night,” the King said.

After a long pause during which I heard the man take a few more steps, he said, “I thought you might be in here with a woman. People said you were paying some extra attention to Lady Silla of Ratchford at the social tonight.”

“No, I’m alone,” Stellon said, then he added, “at the moment.”

The king let out a hearty laugh. “I remember what it was like to be your age, waiting for the bonding—not easy, especially as you get older and the drive increases each year.”

He took a few more steps toward the bed, and I had to stifle a gasp as the toes of his shiny black boots intruded under the dust ruffle.

“I understand you’re champing at the bit, son,” he said. “But remember to be careful. It’s easy to get carried away, and any of these ladies you’re taking for a casual romp could end up as your permanent bond-mate if you go too far.”

“I’m aware,” Stellon said, sounding surly.

“I’m just making sure. In fact, it would be better to refrain from sampling the candidates altogether if you can help it. Stick to the human concubines. They’re less tempting, and you eliminate the chance of causing misunderstandings and hard feelings among our potential allies as you come to your decision.”

“How do you know I haven’t been?” Stellon asked, continuing to spar with his father.

Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out what the king had meant when he’d referred to “sampling.”

Did he mean what Stellon and I had been doing before he’d interrupted—apparently just in time?

Had Stellon been drawing other women away from the daily social soirees he attended to private rooms where he did with them what he’d just done with me?

Was that how a princess was selected at this Assemblage thing?

Suddenly I felt blazing hot and thoroughly sober. I couldn’t be sure whether it was because the saol water had worn off or because my anger had burned through its intoxicating elements like a fire consuming alcoholic spirits.

“Because they’re my concubines,” King Pontus said. “I’d know because I keep up with where they are—and whom they’re with—at all times.”

“I don’t have the option of selecting another bond-mate, as you well know. I have to settle for what little pleasure I can get these days,” he told his son, sounding bitter.

“I know, Father,” Stellon said. “I’ll be careful. I’ll be smarter about my… intimate affairs.”

“Good.” The king sounded satisfied by Stellon’s contrite words and tone.

“I am only looking out for you as your father and your regent,” he said. “You have not been acting like yourself since the night of the welcoming ball. I’m happy to share my human retinue with you, truly. Go and select a girl now, if you like—or more than one. It’ll take the edge off and make it more comfortable while you’re exposed to so many potential bridal candidates. That way when the end of the Assemblage comes, you can make a decision based on wisdom instead of lust and desperation.”

“Thank you, Father,” Stellon said. “Perhaps I will take advantage of your generous offer… another night. I really am fatigued tonight.”

There was a disgruntled hmph noise from the king, but the sound of his footfalls moved farther from the bed. He was leaving. Thank the gods.

He must have stopped at the doorway, because his voice was still loud and clear.

“No more leaving these events early, Stellon. You must make a choice. That means spending time doing more than testing your physical reactions to the candidates. In fact, that matters very little. If you end up with a bond-mate who doesn’t appeal to you in that way, you can form your own retinue and fill it with human girls who do. It’s your prerogative as the Crown Prince. Your wife, whoever she turns out to be, will say or do nothing to stop you.”

By the time the horrid man exited the room, I was seething. The rumors were true. Human girls were being taken against their will and forced to live in the castle as sex slaves for the king.

I wasn’t sure what Pontus had meant by that being his only remaining option, but I didn’t care.

And I was sure the human women here were prisoners.

For one thing, no one in her right mind would want to “serve” the king in that manner. Stellon might be a different story, but it sickened me to even consider the possibility he’d take his father’s advice and avail himself of their services.

Would he?

When the dust ruffle lifted, and he reached a hand under the bed toward me, I had the strongest urge to slap it.

“It’s safe now. He’s gone. You can come out,” he said.

I reluctantly placed my hand in his so he could pull me out from my hiding place.

When he saw me, he smiled. “Oh no, you’re all dusty.”

He sounded in rather good humor. Maybe it was just relief that his “dirty little secret” hadn’t been revealed. Me.

I was not in a good mood, to say the least. There was no more doubt about where our king put human women in the pecking order of this world. At the very bottom.

And his son hadn’t contradicted him. That whole assassination idea wasn’t sounding too bad at the moment.

“This is what comes of disallowing the chambermaids to enter my room for too long,” Stellon said. “Sorry. Beneath the bed was the only place I could think to hide you with so little warning.”

He started to brush me off, and I lurched backward, pushing away from his touch.

“Do you really think I care about a little dust right now?”

His hands went up, palms forward, to hover on either side of his shoulders. “Sorry. You must be very frightened. I apologize. I could not have kept him out. My father gets what he wants.”

I snorted in disgust. “So I heard. And apparently what he wants is to enslave human women and use them for whatever depraved thing he has in mind from moment to moment.”

Stellon’s hands lowered, and he held them in front of him in a supplicating gesture as he moved closer.

“It’s not like that. They’re not slaves. They live in luxurious quarters and eat decadent food, and most of the time they’re not even bothered.”

“And the rest of the time?”

He didn’t respond, just dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Don’t try to tell me they’re here of their own free will, Stellon, because I won’t believe it. They’re being physically forced to… to… do things with your father—and gods only know who else.”

“It’s just him,” Stellon said in a rush. “And perhaps Pharis on occasion—I don’t really know. No one else would have access to them. And they’re not forced —well, not physically.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, disgusted with him and his whole race at the moment.

“They’re swayed,” he said. “It keeps them… happy.”

Stellon didn’t look happy. He looked guilty. As he should have.

“I don’t believe for a minute that they’re happy. What is ‘swayed?’” I demanded. “Some Elven trick?”

“Other Fae have the power as well,” he said. “It’s a sort of extreme persuasion , I guess you could say.”

“More like coercion,” I muttered.

Stellon just folded his lips in and nodded. “Sometimes.”

“And Fae use it to manipulate people?”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it. It can work on other members of the Fae, but humans are much more susceptible to it.”

Quickly, he added, “I rarely use it. And I don’t visit the retinue quarters—as you heard my father say.”

I still wasn’t past his confession that Fae were controlling humans with their powers.

“Did you ever use this Sway on me?”

His skin tone deepened a shade. “I started to once—in the market when I wanted to escort you for protection and you wouldn’t allow it.”

“And it didn’t work?” I asked.

“It would have,” he said. “I stopped because I could tell I was scaring you. I didn’t want to do anything to you against your will.”

“What a gentleman.” My tone was painted with sarcasm.

“Why are you angry with me?” Stellon asked. “I just told you I refrained from using it on you. And that I don’t frequent my father’s retinue.”

“Do you expect a reward for not abusing women?”

“Well, no, I—”

I didn’t let him finish. “Do you think it’s actually okay that your father keeps these brainwashed women here at his beck and call?”

It horrified me that Stellon knew about this practice and had said nothing—done nothing to stop it.

His face went blank for a moment.

“Honestly, I didn’t really give it much thought,” he confessed. “It’s just how things have always been. And I know they’re well treated. They live much easier lives than most of the peasants outside the castle walls, based on what you’ve told me.”

The space around my heart seemed to harden, which made me realize how soft it had become in the past week or so, being taken care of by Stellon.

“I think we have different definitions of ‘easy.’”

He stepped forward and placed his hands lightly on the outsides of my shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I wish you’d never had to hear about that. I wish you’d never had to be exposed to my father at all. I’ll take care that it never happens again.”

“I’m not sorry I know,” I said. “Now I can try to do something about it. You’re obviously not going to.”

“What can I do? He’s the King,” Stellon said.

“And you’re his heir whom he loves and respects. Can’t you talk to him? Help him see how wrong it is?”

Stellon’s entire face tightened into an unwilling mask. “I can’t do that.”

“You can, but you won’t,” I said. “There’s always a choice.”

He shook his head. “Not in this situation. I’m sorry, Firebug.”

I shrugged away from him. “Don’t call me that.”

Hobbled by my ankle, I did my best to put some distance between us, going to one of the settees and pulling a lap blanket over me.

Stellon followed my slow escape and took a seat on the matching settee opposite me. His expression was pure dismay as he looked at me.

“I don’t like it,” he said. “I’ve never felt entirely comfortable about it, which is why I haven’t partaken.”

There was a long pause before he continued. “But you’re right. That doesn’t entitle me to any sort of praise. I just… I’m not sure what to do about it.”

Though his tone was contrite and his expression sorrowful, I couldn’t allow myself to soften again toward him.

No matter how gentle and kind he’d been to me, Stellon was Elven first and foremost. An Elven prince.

His first loyalty was to his people and his father—and they were just as bad as I’d always been warned.

Maybe he hadn’t partaken of the “companionship” available from the king’s personal harem himself, and he said he didn’t approve, but he wasn’t willing to actually do anything about it.

In my view, doing nothing to stop evil was just as bad as committing the evil yourself.

Bottom line, I couldn’t trust him.

“Please believe me, Firebu—Raewyn. I’d end the practice if I could. When I’m king, I will. You have my word.”

“And when will that be?” I asked.

His eyes looked even more regretful. “I don’t know. We’re immortal, except for in the case of violence. The crown will transfer to me when my father decides he’s ready to step down.”

I huffed a laugh devoid of humor. “So what you’re saying is the practice could go on forever—or at least for many human generations more. The women in your father’s ‘collection’ will spend their whole lives there.”

“Well, not their whole lives,” he argued. “Once they reach a certain age…”

His words died off as he apparently thought better of finishing what he’d been about to say.

I completed the thought for him. “Once they reach a certain age, and he no longer finds them attractive , he turns them out on the street. Right?”

Stellon nodded.

“What do you think their lives will be like then?” I asked. “Old women with no children, no families, who’ve been ‘serving’ a depraved Fae king for years or decades? They’ll be outcasts among the other humans—even more destitute than my family—which is saying a lot.”

“Speaking of your family,” he said, leaning forward. “I was sincere about taking care of them. Just tell me what they need and where to send it.”

My chin jutted up, a flood of fiery obstinance filling me with new strength. Stellon had shown me his true colors. There was no way I could trust him with my family’s whereabouts, with their safety.

And I’d been a fool to even consider trusting him with my heart.

“No thank you,” I said.

His eyes widened in shock. “What? Why not? All I want to do is help—you have to believe me.”

“If you want me to believe you, then do something about the humans in the retinue,” I challenged.

“I’ve already told you I can’t do that.”

“And I’ve already told you I don’t need your help. I’ll figure it out on my own. All I need is to heal and get out of this place.”

Rising from the settee, I walked around the room, gingerly at first, testing the ankle.

While the overdose of saol water had made me foolish enough to kiss Stellon, it had also accomplished one helpful thing—my ankle was definitely improved today.

Maybe even enough to walk home.

“I’m finished waiting,” I said, coming to a stop and coming to a new decision.

Turning to Stellon, I said, “I want you to smuggle me out of here—tonight.”