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He’s right. Once they anoint the new Princes and Princess, they’ll go off to their private ceremony and the rest of us will be cut free. Cue all the sad, rejected hot girls.

Lex steps into the middle of the room. Things have been weird between them since Pace got back. I keep waiting for theclick, just like earlier when Pace took the vape pen without even needing to look. It’s a rhythm between us. A synchronicity. They’ve been off-tempo and it makes my temples throb.

“Has Father talked to you yet?” Lex asks.

Pace just shakes his head. “Not one word.”

Lex takes this in slowly, as if he’s rolling it around in his head. “That could be a good thing.”

“Could be,” Pace agrees, tapping on the keyboard. “But we’re smarter than that.”

Lex and I share a look. Pace is plugged into that thing twenty-four-seven. It’s been worse since he got home, as if he’s living lifethroughthe monitors. The campus is on one screen. On another, the Avenue. Another screen shows an infrared shot of the Palace’s gates.

Jittering nervously, Lex says, “Come on, Pace. Father wants us at the Purple Palace by seven.”

Pace leans closer to the screen, raising a hand. “Hold up, things are getting good.”

Annoyed, Lex starts toward the set-up with the obvious intention of shutting it off, but as he gets closer, he stops short.

“What...” He runs his hand through his hair, loosening the product. “Oh.Oh. Damn.”

Curious, I walk over. The monitor they’re looking at is split into four separate video feeds—each showing a female in various stages of dressing. The footage is in black and white, the camera mounted at a perfect height to catch their cleavage in high-definition.

“Are those the girls?” I ask, already feeling the horny tickle in my balls. “Father rigged their dressing room?”

“Yep. One on every mirror.” Pace taps a few buttons and the camera zooms in a little, giving a better view of one girl as she threads her feet through her panties. She loses her balance, twisting around and flashing her plump ass at the hidden camera. My fingers twitch, craving the feel of all that flesh in my hands. It’s been at least forty hours. My blood is humming with the itch.

Pace watches with heavy eyes. “Nice selection, don’t you think?”

I shoot Lex a grin over Pace’s head, surprised to see my brother return it.

Twenty months without sex.

Yeah, baby bro is thirsty as fuck.

Leaning closer, I shrug. “Well, you know Father Dearest. Only the finest specimens for his collection.” My eyes jump from screen to screen. “I just wonder which one is the best.”

“Or genetically superior,” Lex adds. “Something extraordinary.”

“Something fun to play with,” Pace adds, wetting his lips.

Laughing, I tell Lex, “Guess we better call our dibs.”

The three of us grow still as we watch these women squeeze themselves into tight corsets and sheer panties. They’re all different shapes, sizes, skin tones. My gaze is drawn to a pretty, dark-skinned number with massive tits. “Fuck, I want to bury my face in those.”

“Mmhmm,” one of the guys agrees. I’m too distracted to figure out which one.

“What about her?” Pace asks, gesturing to the top screen. She’s got ink on her lower ribcage. “You think Dad changed his rules?”

“Doubtful,” Lex says, frowning as his eyes flick to Pace’s forearm. Only a few months into lockup, he managed to get some ink. Lex has never been a fan of tattoos, but Pace’s especially.

He has tally marks of each day he spent in lockup.

“Father probably owed someone a favor,” Lex muses, paying that one no further mind. He’d never openly admit it, but I know what his weird appreciation for our house’s Princesses is all about. Lex likes his girls all prim and coy, blushing and curvaceous, busty and soft.

Someone ripe to take a man’s fat load and do something with it.

Pace hums in agreement, while my eyes dart from one screen to another as they come in and out of view.