Chapter Twelve #2
I ladled more soup into Serin’s bowl.
“But they all want it. All think they can take it from me by force. Every last one of those motherfuckers!” He enunciated that with a knife tip to the ancient tabletop.
The anger was always a good way to send him into one of his manic moods. Pretty soon, pieces of cutlery and plates would go flying.
“Cass,” a voice called, making ice slide down my spine.
Of course.
That bastard was never far away.
Before my father’s descent into madness, Tove, his advisor, had been steadily on his way out of Cass’s favor. He was just a few years older than me, tall, fit, and intimidating-looking for such a parchment-pusher.
Unfortunately, he, like me, knew how to play to my father’s weaknesses and gain his favor.
Now, he was who my father trusted the most. And who handled him when he was getting out of control. He was cunning, calculating, and the biggest threat to my future plans.
“I need to discuss some… important business with you.”
He didn’t.
He wanted to get my father into his office where no one would be able to witness his outbursts.
Just this once, I wasn’t going to weasel my way in. Not with Serin to worry about.
The guards filed out with my father and Tove.
Vishen waited a moment before striding to the door, looking out, then closing it behind him.
“Eat,” I invited, waving to the food. “Before Serin eats it all.”
She looked over, cheeks puffed with food, making a laugh escape me.
And, fuck, it felt good to laugh.
There hadn’t been much to find joy in the past few years. Or, you know, my whole life.
“I didn’t know food could be hot,” she said as she chewed. “Or vegetables soft.”
“Most fae aren’t big fans of cooked food. My father almost exclusively serves it because it is uncommon.”
“How can you not like it?” she asked, reaching for more bread. “Do you think Nira has had this… this…”
“Soup,” I supplied. “I don’t know. Do they have soup in the military?” I asked Vishen.
“Maybe if someone in the same regiment was good enough a cook to do it. But usually not.”
“Can we bring some up for her?”
“You can do anything you want.”
“Ugh,” she grumbled, sitting back, her face twisted.
“What’s wrong?”
“My stomach. It feels… strange.”
“It probably feels full,” Vishen said. “You’ve been surviving on only things that grow around your lake. Can’t be too filling.”
“You’re going to want to slow down,” I told her as she grabbed for her bread again.
“Eh, let her overindulge. It’s a rite of passage.” Vishen drove his own bread through his soup.
A half an hour later, Serin was dragging her feet up to my quarters, desperate not to spill a drop of the soup she’d brought up for Nira.
“Can you get the door for me?” she whispered.
When I pushed it open, we found Nira at a table in her room, bent over some sort of beading project, attaching the small colorful orbs onto a piece of fabric.
“Get out,” she snarled at me.
“That’s the prince you’re talking to,” Vishen reminded her from behind me.
“And he doesn’t belong in my room. Neither do you. Get out. She can stay,” she added, looking at Serin.
“Ten minutes,” I told Serin. “I want to lock the room for the night with you inside it.”
“I’ll be right there,” she assured me.
“I’ll make sure she gets there safely,” Nira added.
I moved out into the hall, letting Vishen inspect the room.
“Tove is going to need to be reined in,” Vishen said when he was done.
“Yeah, I know. Right now, he’s useful, though. Keeping Cass and his insanity under wraps so everyone doesn’t try to move in at once.”
“We need some serious time tomorrow to work on a plan.”
“Meet me in my office at dawn. We can strategize how to handle the feast.”
Alone in my room, I went into the water closet, stripping out of my clothes and going into the shower, resigning myself to a cold shower, since the buckets had been sitting around for a while.
It was what I needed anyway.
Because any chance I got for my mind to wander, it went right back to my study, to her pressed against me, her soft moans filtering out, her fingers gripping me, her tight, wet walls closing around my finger…
“Fuck,” I sighed, reaching down to close my hand around my length. There was no way I could share a bed with her if I didn’t get some relief.
I let my mind wander back, sinking into the sounds and sensations, and coming so hard I had to slap a hand into the wall to keep myself upright.
I finished cleaning up, changed into sleep pants, then made my way out of the room to find Serin had not only returned but changed into another of my shirts.
Desire stirred at her long, exposed legs, the way she hadn’t closed the top few buttons, so the neckline gapped down between her breasts.
I could just go over, press my lips there, and—
No.
She glanced over at me, “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“It’s all the food,” I said as I made my way to my side of the bed.
“Do all the fae in the realm get full like this?”
I sighed. “No. No, there’s a lot of famine around.”
“How? When the land provides?”
“Because many of the powerful families take the natural resources for themselves to feast, leaving little for anyone who hasn’t been able to create their own gardens or orchards.”
“Oh, like… like us?” she asked, face going sad.
“No. Not us. I put a stop to that nearly five years ago. We have our own extensive gardens and orchards that the palace gathers their food from. Even a newly built greenhouse for the colder months. We sustain ourselves so no one has to suffer to feed us.”
“What about the staff?”
“They also eat from the gardens. Which creates a vested interest for them to take good care of it, try new methods to nurture it, expand on it when some years have been leaner. It’s been a good system.”
“Nira says they don’t eat much in the military.”
“Vishen says the same thing. I have next to no control over the military. My father has a tight fist around their operations, especially now when he’s planning for war.”
“But if you were king, you would feed them?”
“The best I could, yes. Fed soldiers are more fit and sharper because they’re not thinking about their hunger.”
“Then why does your father not feed them?”
“My father believes hunger is a powerful motivator. And that it makes fiercer soldiers. I imagine he also thinks it creates loyalty.”
“How’s that?”
“Kind of like when you are the only person to feed a starving stray dog. When you are the only way someone eats, they will do anything for you to make sure their stomachs get full.”
“I see.”
“It’s a terrible system,” I agreed. “But there will be a day when it’s over.” I glanced over and shot her a smile. “And in the time being, you don’t need to feel guilty about stuffing your face any chance you get.”