40 #3
While Theela whispered something to him, I stared at the nearest window. I told myself it was best he pretend I didn’t exist.
Theela closed the doors behind him.
The king’s scoff returned my gaze to the table. He made a face at the sack. “His attitude has always been appalling, but this…” A sound of disgust left him. “Theela, kindly take this traitorous creature’s remains elsewhere.”
She hurried down the table.
“Forgive such horrid business, Princess,” Raxon said. “You might have heard, but my nephew, Voran, is the claws and teeth of our kingdom.”
“I have indeed heard,” I said, thankful my voice was steady.
“Ah, yes,” the king said, a pleased tilt to his lips. “You spent some weeks with him at the Archives of Avyshla.”
Not trusting that I wouldn’t talk far too much to hide how that time was spent, I just nodded.
Raxon’s smile grew. “I hope he didn’t frighten you and your friends.”
Sensing he wanted a response, something to inform him about his nephew’s time at the archives, I picked my words carefully. “He did, actually.” I forced a laugh. “Though I doubt it was intentional.”
“He certainly has that effect on people,” drawled Raxon.
Strenard grunted.
I forced another brief laugh.
King Raxon stared at me. That smile remained. My heart failed to calm, beating hard in my chest like a drum.
A look was given to Bryken, who shook his head ever so slightly at his king. A warning.
Raxon mercifully moved on. “Since his return, Voran has been getting rid of those who dared to conspire against me during the war by feeding intel to the other realms.” A huff.
“As if it would make a difference. Nevertheless, we cannot tolerate such treach…” He then frowned at a pale Theela, who was attempting to grab the sack although her body heaved.
Raxon picked it up.
Then pushed it at her.
Theela gasped and stumbled back with it against her chest. Pulling it away, she revealed a smear of blood on her gown. Heaving again, she scurried from the dining room, head low and the doors ajar behind her.
“She forgets herself.” Raxon took a swig from his tankard.
“Our dear Theela was an orphan when I found her after a visit to the city watch, bloodied and bruised and hiding in my sleigh. But despite the mess someone had made of her, I could tell she’d give us something lovely to look at when she grew. ”
Licking her maw, Dusk waddled closer to me, barbed tail smacking the bowl she’d left overturned on the table.
“So I took her in to feed my nephew while she trained to be a maid. However…” King Raxon propped his elbow on the table and his chin on his fist. His emerald eyes danced upon my wyvern. “It would seem a life of luxury has caused her to forget her humble beginnings.”
I would hardly have called serving the occupants of this palace a life of luxury, no matter how much an improvement from Theela’s previous life.
“She’s more interested in pleasing the claw’s cock than us,” Strenard laughed out. “But her obsession with him keeps her loyal.”
A sharp breath tumbled from my lips.
Bryken chuckled.
Raxon gasped and glared at his friend, but his mouth twitched. Again, he took a swig from his tankard, then told me, “Voran’s cock is strictly off-limits to anyone.” His eyes brightened. “At least for a little while longer.”
More chuckling from the males seated next to the king.
Unable to help it, and certain I had to say something before they realized how I felt went beyond discomfort, I blurted, “But why?”
Their chuckles became hearty laughter. Strenard even went so far as to stab his finger at me. He waved it, and wheezed, “You’ll find out soon enough, Princess.”
“Goddess, I wish I could be there,” choked out Bryken. “Twenty-five years of keeping it to himself…” Sighing, he tilted his head back to the stone ceiling. “He’ll ejaculate before he even gets the whole thing in—”
“Bryken.” Still staring at me, the king barked, “That is quite enough now.”
The steward instantly quietened.
Strenard reached for his tankard.
Dusk gazed at me as if sensing my bewilderment.
“Look what you lot have gone and done,” Raxon said, yet he was grinning wolfishly once more. “The princess looks positively scandalized.”
I gave Dusk my hand, and she nudged it with her snout. I was more shocked than scandalized, and concerned about what this king might be planning for his nephew. “It’s all right.” Smiling, I said, “But I’m afraid I am tired.”
Bryken scowled.
Knowing I was lying, the king watched me for a moment. His eyes dipped to Dusk and stayed there as she played with my hand—gently bit and nudged it. “Then you simply must get some rest.”
I blinked.
But I wasn’t about to question his kindness, however false it might be. I rose and curtsied. “Thank you, Majesty.” Nodding briefly to Strenard and Bryken, I said, “And thank you for inviting me to dine with you.”
Trying not to appear too desperate to flee, I took my time collecting Dusk and strolling to the doors.
Only when I’d reached them did Raxon speak again. “Sleep well, Princess Ayla.” His voice teetered on mocking, slithering across the room. “Tomorrow is an important day.”