Chapter 5 #2
I take them in properly. The queen has curves for days.
She also holds an air of authority that screams ‘I’m about to fuck shit up.
’ She’s a MILF and a half, and sadly I realise, not someone I can charm the pants off.
Her hair, despite having a smattering of red splatters, is blonde like Penelope’s and coiffed into an elegant up-do.
Her natural olive skin makes her hair seem lighter than it is.
Penelope, though, is drenched in blood, her pretty pink dress a rather gruesome shade of claret.
She definitely took the brunt of the explosion.
But everyone has splatters, blood stains and the odd chunk of flesh clinging to them.
Honestly, they’re covered in so much blood it looks like a fresh-turned vampire’s wet dream.
Even poor Morrigan’s blunt-cut fringe is covered in goop.
She’s the one getting married according to Octavia’s lectures en route.
Her skin is smothered in ink and tattoos alongside the blood.
Those tattoos are what make her so impressive, so Octavia said.
Each one represents a different type of magic she’s mastered.
Octavia made us memorise the royals’ names, history and a bunch of other stuff en route, but I lost all of my fucks halfway through. So I’m patchy at best.
The screaming intensifies. Scarlett looks furious enough to take her sword and end everyone’s suffering.
Penelope shrieks at Morrigan… ahh, my deviant little princess.
Well, not mine, mine.
The sight of her all bloody and pissed off makes my pussy clench.
Her and Morrigan are right up in each other’s faces. I don’t understand how two sisters can be so similar and leagues apart all at once.
Penelope’s hair is as blonde as Morrigan’s is dark.
She has legs for about eighteen days and I’d like to bend them around me while I take her for the fucking ride of her life.
Morrigan, though, is shorter. Penelope is a palette of pink whereas Morrigan is all midnight.
Yet, the way they bark at each other, the pair of them sharing the bluest eyes filled with fury, oh you can tell they’re vicious pair.
Penelope’s eyes dart to mine. Baby blues that scream ‘fuck with me and I’ll ruin you.’
My stomach tightens, my cunt soaking my boxers. Maybe my siblings were right, and I do want a woman who’s a living nightmare.
What kills me about Penelope though, is that no one else sees through her bullshit to what’s really under her sultry gaze. She might project bitch vibes, but to me, her entire being screams ‘please love me.’
Gods, she’s practically begging to be broken and put back together.
Penelope holds my gaze, my body heating under the intensity “Thank you,” she mouths at me.
I give her a nod, not really sure whether she means thanks for getting her out of the bar, hugging her until she stopped trembling, or keeping her escape antics quiet. Probably all three. My eyes roam her body, stripping her clothing away piece by piece.
Octavia must be staring at me, because the heat of a thousand suns burns into my cheek.
“What?” I growl at her.
“Stop gawping, she’s the princess,” Octavia whispers quiet enough under the shouting that she can’t be heard by anyone other than our group.
“I gathered.”
Scarlett catches sight of us and stops kneading her headache away, raising her hands. “Enough,” she booms. And the gaggle of women fall silent.
“Scarlett Grey,” Octavia says.
Which is when everyone turns to the door.
“Octavia,” Scarlett says and launches away from the group to step into the doorway and, I shit you not, fistbump my sister.
Fistbump?
I rub my eyes, but no, I definitely just saw Octavia, stuffy, rigid—okay maybe I’m being hard on her, but only because Red banged the pompous out of her—fistbump another person.
If my jaw wasn’t already on the floor because of the hot, deviant princess, it would be from this display of utter normalcy.
Octavia, normal? Who would’ve thought?
The realisation hits me that Octavia actually has friends now. I give Gabriel the side eye, and he gives me a knowing look. Glad it’s not just me.
Scarlett opens her arms. “Welcome, come in. Your Majesty, I believe you met earlier, but this is Octavia Beaumont.”
The queen braces herself, like she’s forgotten that I literally protected her daughter this evening.
“Queen Calandra, I assure you, we are all fed and are decidedly old, you shouldn’t fear us.
If there were going to be an incident, it would have been after the bodyguard’s unfortunate…
ah… Well, we are here with open hearts and minds hoping to solidify our recent talks,” Octavia says and then steps through the doorway.
She bristles as she walks, as do both Xavier and Gabriel.
I step inside and realise why they all shivered.
A strange sort of pressure washes over my body, almost like the door is tickling me.
It rushes from my head, into my mouth and dances around my fangs.
I let out a giggle as it drops from my fangs down under my arms and around my body.
A sweet, fresh scent fills the air like cinnamon and static and the hint of fresh mint. “Bizarre,” I breathe.
Scarlett smiles. “The palace is just saying hello. Dahlia, if I remember?”
“The house is sentient?”
She shrugs. “Not exactly. But it definitely has personality. Nice to see you again.” She holds out her hand and I take it, my eyes falling back to the deviant princess behind her.
Scarlett follows my gaze and introduces us. “I assume you met earlier this evening, but for the sake of formalities… This is Her Majesty, Queen Calandra. The princesses, Their Royal Highnesses, Morrigan and Penelope.”
My eyes stick on Penelope, and the realisation that she’s a princess. I mean, I knew it when Octavia gave us the rundown on the way here. I knew it in the bar this evening. But hearing someone else say it. Realising I’ve mentally undressed a princess, kissed a princess… now I know it.
The foyer we’re stood in is grand as fuck.
All pillars and sweeping staircases, twinkling chandeliers that must weigh a fucking tonne with the amount of crystal hanging from them.
Serene statues and gawdy artwork line the walls.
The floor is a mosaic of chequered tiles peppered with the odd intricately designed one.
Scarlett drags my attention back to her as she cycles through each of us. Gabriel deigns to nod at the royal party, and Xavier executes a charming bow just as a cluster of guards come charging down the foyer to surround the queen and her family.
Mother of Blood, are we not over this? They invited us here, for fuck’s sake. The guards stare at us, but the queen shakes her head.
One of the guards steps forward. “Palace has been triple checked, the carriages weren’t followed. The perimeter is clear. You’re safe.”
A tall woman with a face like a knife pushes past the group, opens her mouth to speak to the queen and then stalls as she takes in our presence.
“Oh. You’re here,” the woman says.
“Daria, please. They are our honoured guests. Especially after Dahlia rushed Penelope to safety,” Queen Calandra says.
So she does remember my heroic efforts.
About time.
Though she looks about as pleased that we’re here and that I rescued her daughter as Daria does. Which is to say, not at all.
Honestly, I think I must have had an aneurysm in the bar. Why did I bother getting involved?
My eyes slide to Penelope’s legs. Right. That’s exactly why I got involved. Because my brain spends ninety-eight percent of its life in my pussy.
I shift on the spot, wishing I could adjust my boxers.
Daria’s face tightens, but she gives the queen a nod.
Not everyone is going to welcome us here instantly, but just as Octavia has sworn us to our best behaviour, it seems like the queen has done the same with her people.
This is, after all, an opportunity to open trade lines and loosen city boundaries.
It will benefit the trade and economy in both our cities, as Octavia has belaboured on about for endless hours.
Queen Calandra gestures at Daria. “Please send an investigation party back to the restaurant.”
“Already on its way.”
The queen purses her lips. “Good. I’d like you to personally visit Marcus’s family, and please let them know I will invite them to the palace once the wedding is over.”
Daria nods again but doesn’t leave. Instead, a hardness rolls down her back.
“What is it?” Queen Calandra says.
Daria’s eyes flit to our group. Queen Calandra follows her gaze and then tuts, waving a hand at us. “Honoured guests, remember, and this is hardly the welcome I was hoping to give you all.”
Octavia and Xavier wave the queen off as if being exploded on was nothing.
“What exactly happened to him?” I ask, gesturing at my blood-soaked clothes. “I mean, beyond the obvious.”
The princess with dark hair, Morrigan, shoots a filthy look at her sister. “What happened is that Penelope ruined my fucking pre-wedding family dinner, because instead of going to a restaurant after your arrival, we’re back in the palace covered in magician.”
Penelope shoves a hand on her hip and shrieks at the top of her lungs. “Fuck you, Morrigan. I hardly call having my bodyguard brutally murdered in front of me, my fault.”
Annnnd the shouting we arrived to breaks out all over again.
I try to keep up.
Morrigan’s screaming at Penelope because apparently, she ruins everything.
All. The. Time.
“Oh, get a grip, Morrigan. Just because you’re the heir, you don’t have to be so fucking entitled. Everything always has to be perfect for Morrigan.” Penelope waggles her fingers in a tone that is aggressively sarcastic.
Calandra jumps in. “I hardly think throwing childish jibes at each other is the point, is it? You’re both grown wo—”