Chapter 51
Fifty-One
A good brownie always gives great advice.
Ribbit. Ribbit. - Arienna
“Are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” I ask early the next morning as I squirm on the uncomfortable throne that my king led me to.
My chair is taller than his. More prominent.
But that is not a good thing considering it also has a lot more sticks digging into my ass.
I cannot believe that the people who carved this beautiful room out of the tree –with its arching ceiling and the two lines of pillars running up from the middle of the room, with the dais of twenty-six steps leading up two seats of power– are the same people who built this godsawful chair.
It’s utterly menacing to look at, with its twisting vines of thorns; it’s utterly horrendous to sit in because of them.
I am not a fan of murder, but whoever thought of this thing needs to be stabbed.
And whoever built it needs to have their hands cut off so they can never woodwork again.
“I haven’t been crowned yet,” I say as I wiggle some more.
“Relax,” Richard says. “No one is going to challenge your right to be here.”
Bugger. I really wish they would so I could get out of this chair without seeming rude. Before I can think of another reason to escape, my king signals to Jace to open the double doors of the Throne Room.
They swing open, granting us the view of a long line of people snaking across one of the branches of our city. My mouth drops open as I finally sit still in my seat. Dear gods, I’m supposed to help all of these people? Me?
I trace two fingers over one of the many purple ravens embroidered on my black jumpsuit. I’m trying not to panic, but a week ago, the only responsibility I had was to my pet wasps. Yet now, I’m expected to give guidance to all these people?
Oh dear gods.
They’d be better off if they asked a frog for advice.
As a young heterosexual couple walks in, I nearly bolt off my seat, but Richard reaches over and grabs my hand.
He forces my fingers to stop fidgeting. I glance over at him, ready to tell him I’m a terrible person to ask for advice, but as soon as I catch his eye, my words fade. As does the world around us.
Under the sharp silence of his gaze, I barely hear the couple’s repeated words of, “Your Majesty.” My king holds me until my heart calms. Until my thoughts turn back to normal, and I can breathe again.
My fingers tightening around his, I tear my gaze away from him and look at the couple waiting for me to speak. Ribbit. Ribbit.
Taking a deep breath, my voice only slightly strained, I say, “Good hopping. How fray we be of service?” My cheeks heat as I realise what I said. The ‘hopping’ was bad enough, but then I had to go and mix ‘frog’ and ‘may’? Come on!
As stiff silence descends, the couple stares at me dumbly.
Everything about the man looks tired, from his messy light-green hair to his rumpled grey shirt to his scuffed black leather shoes. His shoulders are stooped; his eyes are haggard, and his wings have the dullest glow I’ve ever seen.
The woman is the complete opposite. Strong and virile, she stands with her head held high, her shoulders back, and her thick full lips set in a thin, unimpressed line. Her lush blonde hair lies in a plait across one shoulder, and woven into it is a bright-green ribbon. She’s beautiful and fierce.
She’s also the first one to recollect herself.
“I want a divorce,” she says, short and clipped. “I will not be married to this asshat any longer.”
The man winces; she ignores him. I glance at Richard, uncertain of what to do.
In Brownston, if someone wants a divorce, they simply hold a divorce party.
On average, we go through about seventy-two divorces before we die, with the record being two hundred and sixty-three.
It really isn’t that big of a deal, so I have no idea what these two want from us.
“What’s the reason for divorce?” Richard asks.
“He tried to get me to have a threesome,” the woman sneers, confusing me even further.
How is that a bad thing? In Brownston, all sex is good. We even have a statue of Moriana Deglare because she was the first to have seven cocks inside her at once. She’s been immortalised down on all fours, with her mouth open. Her three holes are all lined with soft moss too.
His voice hard, Richard asks, “Did you force her?”
Force? How can someone be forced into having sex? A good brownie always wants sex, and a good brownie never says no. Even when I was trying to kill Richard, I was still up for having sex.
I shift on my throne, a heaviness starting to fill my belly. I don’t understand these people and their weird rules.
But I’m determined to be a good queen, I decide. I’ll be a good wife too. One Richard can count on to help ease the burden I often see in his eyes. Squeezing his hand, I try to follow the conversation.
“No, Your Majesty.” The man shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that. It was –”
“It was exactly like that!” his partner snarls, rounding on him.
“Stop making me sound like a creep,” the man says in exasperation. “I just asked –”
“You said, ‘Oh, look, honey. I got you a gift.’ And when I said I didn’t want her, you –”
“She was a gift. If you’d just let me explain –”
“Oh, fuck off with that! She was for you!”
Oh, bugger. I’m not following anything.
“Enough.” Richard’s voice, soft yet hard, quiets them instantly. “You” –he nods at the man– “tell us your side.”
Glancing at his wife, he breathes out slowly. “During our engagement, she told me it upset her that I never thought about her, that even though ours was an arranged marriage, she wanted me to at least pretend that I cared for her.”
“To care,” the woman spits, “not to go fuck the officiant on the altar and ask me to join.”
“It is not your turn to speak,” Richard says just as softly as before.
Paling, the woman nods sharply.
“Continue,” my king says, tilting his head at the man.
“I didn’t fuck her on the altar,” he denies, his eyes on his wife.
Although exasperated and tired, they are still lit with passion.
With a desire to be heard. “She undressed while saying some very suggestive things. But when she reached for me, I pushed her off because I only wanted her to join us in a threesome.”
“Do you wish to press charges against her?” Richard asks.
My brows furrow tighter. Charges for what?
“No, she didn’t assault me,” the man says. “There was a miscommunication. She thought I was asking for myself when I was asking for my wife.”
Oh thank gods. Finally, I understand.
My eyes land on the woman with glee. She is so lucky.
Well, not as lucky as me given I’ve found someone who actually knows what he’s doing, but she’s lucky enough to have found a man who’s at least trying to please her.
A grin splitting my face, I nod vigorously.
“You were outsourcing your duties as husband. Smart.”
Richard coughs beside me. Jace cackles loudly from his position by the doors. The other guards in attendance are better at hiding their snickers but not by much.
“See, Kait? The queen understands it,” the man says, ignoring the fact that Jace is now starting to howl. “Why can’t you?”
“Because you didn’t suggest a MFM threesome, Kyle!” she explodes. “You picked another woman.”
“Well, duh,” he shoots back. “The whole point of it was to get you an orgasm. If I’d asked a man, you would’ve just been disappointed twice!”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Jace’s cackling turns into coughing. Turning from her, the man runs his fingers through his hair and pulls at his scalp.
“Are you serious?” Jace scoffs once he manages to catch his breath. “Don’t drag us all into your shitty inability to please a lady.”
Raising my free hand to my lips, I giggle genuinely. The tension inside me eases. Sex – now that I understand better than any frog. “Do you find him lacking because he doesn’t last long” –like Karl– “or because he doesn’t know what he is doing?” Also like Karl.
Blinking, she tears her eyes from her husband and looks at me. “Every time I tell him I’m close, he finishes without fail. And every time I tell him to keep doing what he’s doing, he attacks me like a kid trying to hit one of those whack-an-Alzans.”
“Does he manage to hit it at least?”
“Not even close.”
Jace snickers.
“And you wonder why I tried to get another woman. You are impossible to please,” Kyle mumbles.
“Have you tried learning what your wife likes?” Richard asks, making my cheeks heat in memory of our time in the shower. Of him watching me. Of him stroking himself while I showed him –
Pressing my thighs together, I try to stay focused.
Not to mention, these thrones would be the worst things to fuck on.
I’d probably lose the ability to stand and not because he so thoroughly destroyed me again.
But because I broke my back on the bloody thing.
Wriggling in my seat, I try once more to get comfortable.
Richard’s hand pushes mine higher, dragging my fingers across my thigh. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. Jace’s eyes flicker to mine; the humour on his face bleeds into something darker. Hotter.
My lips parting, I try to breathe normally.
He smirks from his position at the door.
“Of course I have,” the man says. His eyes heating, he glances at his wife. The tent in his trousers is unmistakable. “But she’s so fucking hot when she gives me commands, I can’t last long.”
She rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t have to last long if you just stopped jabbing me like you’re trying to stuff a bird at Yuletide.”
“That is not what I do.”
“That’s what it fucking feels like.” She raises her hand and jabs sharply at the air in various spots. Wild and rapid and so not pleasant.
My eyes crinkling, I laugh. “If he learned to be better at sex, would you still want to divorce him?”
“I don’t want to divorce him because he’s bad at sex. I’m pissed he tried to, as you said, ‘outsource his duties’.”
“In that case,” my king says, “your request is denied. I do not need to tell you the benefits of your arranged marriage as I’m sure that was explained to you before your ceremony.
Marriages take work.” He pins the man with a dry look.
“Which includes not being lazy and learning how to please your wife.” He glances at me, his violet eyes heating, his voice lowering.
“I’d suggest watching her please herself. ”
He drags my hand farther up my thigh. I nearly bolt off my throne. Jace’s eyes haven’t once left me. I can feel the heat of them on my skin, making me feel as if I’ll combust at any moment.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Kyle says, bowing low. He sneaks a peak at his wife. “We shall try that.”
Turning from him, Kait crosses her arms. But there’s a lightness to her that wasn’t there before. My smile returns as I realise they’re going to be okay.
My king and I are going to be okay too.
I will learn this role for him. I will be the queen he and Raza needs. Turning to my lifemate, I smile even wider. He squeezes my hand, leans in close, and with a quick, cocky, possessive look at Jace, he brings my hand all the way up to my pussy.
My breath catching, I nearly come undone at the tension that fills the room. But when the next person steps inside, all of that suddenly disappears.