Chapter 6
VALANCE
I entered my chambers, servants following me, the ones inside already springing into action.
“Good morning,” I said, glancing at the pendulum clock over by my door. “Well, almost afternoon.”
They all responded with their own respectful greetings.
“I wish to bathe,” I announced. “If someone could please have that arranged for me.”
A female human got to work.
Before the large, gilded mirror, more human slaves helped me remove my light yet sturdy black leather armor.
Carefully, they undid the straps and the small blades nestled in their tiny sheaths.
I liked to be armed properly, to not depend on one blade.
My black cloak came off first, followed by my armor, until I faced myself in white undergarments.
Father hated I didn’t wear the rose gold elven leather and pink cloak he’d worn when he’d been capable of battle.
What my brother had worn too. But he never commanded me to do so.
After all, I was his unusual child—cursed as his brother liked to say.
I heard those sorts of whispers all the time.
One could be fooled into thinking my father had embraced me by letting me wear black. But not. It was conceding defeat, giving in to disappointment.
Sometimes, I looked too slim. But it was a deception.
I’d often been underestimated in the battlefield.
Yes, I wasn’t as tall as my father or most of my family, and I didn’t have the bulk of many of the warriors in my father’s army, nor of the enemy.
But I understood the art of battle, the way of the sword, and how to use violence successfully.
I removed my hair tie, ran a hand through my violet-tinged silver tresses, rubbing at my scalp, letting it fall free down my back.
An ache was coming to my temples. Curses.
They always crept up at the most inconvenient moments.
A throbbing there meant a migraine later, drapes drawn, and me on the bed as miserable as a goblin on a fat diet.
Death by goblin for Ren? They ate their prey slowly, enjoying every fatty deposit in small bites. There were plenty of them around to call upon for a feast. They so enjoyed being invited to a dinner party.
No. Not enough fat on him or the human for those greedy creatures.
I mentally shelved those ideas. Maybe the orchids would be better. They struck terror in the hearts of my enemies. Well, those who’d heard of them.
Yes. A visit to the garden tomorrow.
“May I offer you wine or tea, Your Highness?”
“Wine, please,” I replied. “Red.”
“Right away.” The human servant bowed and left the room.
“Thank you.”
Manners. A nice tone. Pleases and thank yous.
I strived to make a servant’s time a pleasant one when dealing with me.
Unlike some of my snotty cousins. I’d pulled up many a relative for their attitudes.
Also unlike my brother. He’d been… he didn’t believe in pleasantries with the staff.
Not with anyone. Not even me. Daire’s motives were strength and dominance.
Princely qualities. No. Kingly. He harbored no mercy, no weakness.
He often chided our father’s whimsical side.
Well, to me. Never to the king’s face. He told me when he took the throne, things would be different.
Because of our immortal lives, the Sidhe sovereign sat upon the throne for a period of a hundred years.
One century per monarch. Father had been crowned when his mother, Queen Dovelar, stepped down.
She still remained in the palace, bitter about having relinquished her power, kept well away from Father and I.
Tough luck for her. Those were the royal laws drawn up to keep the crown fresh and not held too long.
A hundred years to my kind meant nothing.
Father’s time had reached eighty years last month.
In twenty more years, on the first April, I’d inherit the throne my brother had cultivated.
Unless Father was consumed by his grief before that.
A crown I didn’t want but would never abdicate for anyone else in my family. Vile creatures, most of them. You always found a polished stone in the gravel. Not in this case. I didn’t trust them. Any of them. It kept a fae alive to limit trust to a small circle—Boyd and Maeve for me.
With the bath drawn, I dismissed every servant. I craved some peace and alone time.
Stripping off my white undergarments, I padded across my plush bronze carpet, my feet happy to be kissing it, heading into my bathroom—a curved chamber of glittering golden stone, a steaming pool at the heart of it.
Rose petals floated on top of the water, and the servants had laid out a selection of oils and soaps for me to use.
Towels left out. too, the hexagonal window above the pool ajar with steam sucked out through the crack.
I chose a rose oil and stepped down into the pink and gold tiled pool. The hot water greeted me with a blissful hug. I sank into it up to my shoulders, resting my back against the side. Tilting my head back. Throat exposed. Ready for an enemy to cut or a lover to kiss.
The heat loosened my muscles. It hadn’t been a tough morning by any stretch. Still, this was required, and I wanted to be fresh for the mer festival later. That would be the rest of my day set for me. Taking my time preening myself, enjoying the solitude of my quarters.
Relaxation a weapon against a migraine.
Hopefully.
Fucking a merman or two would do me good.
My mind wandered to the human locked up in that stinking hell hole. The broadness of him, the hint of more handsome delights beneath his grimy facade. Of things beneath his leather armor.
I’d fucked a human once. A landscaper. Huge, skin a rich dark brown, constantly glistening with sweat as he worked in the sun sculpting the royal gardens. Raven hair tied into a knot atop his head, never anything worn to cover his bare chest. Only beige breeches grubby with mud and heavy boots.
Danu, what a sight he was. Wholly male, human or not. I’d watch him for hours working up a sweat, the sun beating down on him. When he’d wipe at his forehead with the back of his arm, it stirred my cock good.
A combination of the bath’s heat mixed with my rising desires had me playing with my nipples with one hand, the other sliding down my stomach. Down to my hardness.
I licked my lips, basking in a memory.
I’d followed the landscaper back to his home in the city.
Clad in a hooded cloak, keeping a low profile as I stalked him through the chaotic streets.
All the way to a small room above a butcher’s shop.
From the other side of the street, I’d watched him enter the green doorway, paint peeling from its surface.
Pondering how easy it would be to get through that door. A flimsy door with a flimsy lock.
He appeared in the window above the door, pushing it open. Drinking water from a metal cup. Still bare-chested, still dripping in sweat. The sun was still high, not setting for a few hours. A hot day.
Hot in many respects.
A surge of bravery had sent me across the street. The door hadn’t been as flimsy as I’d believed, and yet more bravery had driven me to knock on the door.
“Yes…” I whispered outside of the memory in the bath. Stroking myself, playing with a swollen nub between finger and thumb.
The great thing about that moment had been the lack of words.
When the big human opened the door, he’d recognized me instantly.
The shock on his face quickly melted as I felt myself through my breeches, displaying my arousal to him.
He’d ushered me inside and lifted me up into his arms. Fear and anticipation had stolen my breath as he carried me up into his living space.
He’d smelled of human sweat, of a musky spice, of earth. Stronger scents than the meat from downstairs. And he’d thrown me down onto his rickety bed, shown me his equal hardness.
What. A. Cock.
With that, our clothes had gone. He’d used his saliva with lack of any other lubrication and taken me on his bed.
Mounted me, pounded me as I spread for him on all fours.
The bed squeaked and creaked and almost collapsed under the ferocity of his thrusts.
Sweaty, grimy fucking. Nothing beautiful about it.
Only the orgasm, his cum decorating my back at the end, mine his sheets.
Danu, I was so reckless that day. I wanted… I wanted to do it again, to feel callused hands on my ass, all over my skin.
I lifted my hips and thrust into my hand, water sloshing around me. My balls tightened with the frenetic energy of fucking my hand as my imagination crested the point of no return.
“Yes…” I climaxed just above the surface of the water, the memory delicious.
The mix of heat and bliss flooding me lightened my head. A lovely, giddy moment of euphoria.
Brought on by the human in the dungeons…
No…
Yes…
How to kill a moment.
Intriguing…
No…
I got out of the bath, erection not quite ready to die yet.
I climaxed as Garret fucked me against the wall, my legs and arms spread, face pressed against the brick.
His fingers dug into my hips as he thrust himself toward his own merry state of bliss. He bit the back of my neck, grunting his pleasure.
I chuckled as the nip became a kiss, a tongue lapping at my sweat.
“Salty,” he purred.
“Enjoy that?” I asked as he licked greedily.
“Always enjoy you, Your Highness.” He spanked my ass.
“You’re making me want to go again.”
“Give me five minutes.”
I turned my head, meeting his lips in a kiss. “Not today. You’ll wear me out before the festival.”
“How could anyone wear you out?”
True. When it came to bedroom antics, as long as my body’s energy levels were high, I reigned supreme. An athlete of sex. Yet, now we were done, I wanted some more alone time of the less energetic variety.
I kissed him again, then pushed myself gently off the wall. My backside ground into his hardness, the tip of it brushing my crevice.
“I beg His Highness doesn’t give me blue balls,” Garret whispered.
I pleasured him with my hand.