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Chapter Ten

Aurelia

B y the time my potion is ready to cool, its herbal scent drifting through the room, Sprite has curled up on my lap and my head is drooping. I set the cauldron aside with a rub of my ring. I’ll bring it into the bathing room to fill it so Marc won’t see the trick.

I’d rather not give him any more information he could use against me than he already has, claims of full allegiance or no.

As I give my cat one last pet and displace her gently to stand up, the hidden panel whispers open. Bastien emerges, tentatively and then striding across the room with more confidence and only a flick of a glance toward Marc.

He wraps his arms around me and just holds me for a moment. “You were amazing this afternoon. I’d have been standing right there by your side if I could have been. ”

“She did have plenty of protection,” Marc intones from where he’s standing stiffly on his bedroll.

Bastien ignores him, peering into my eyes. “How are you holding up? I can’t imagine the strain, after all the extra training you’re doing on top of it…”

I give him a playful swat. “I’m fine.”

But then a yawn stretches my jaw with a wobble that runs right down my body. The prince of Cotea notes it, and his gaze firms alongside his tone.

“Sit down on your stool. You need to stop worrying about being fine for a bit and let someone else look after you.”

I’d argue, but that commanding voice he can bring out never fails to send a giddy shiver down my spine. And I don’t actually object to sitting anyway.

I sink onto the cushioned stool in front of my vanity. Bastien leans over me, sweeping my hair back with a subtle caress of my neck. He rests his hands on my shoulders and meets my gaze in the mirror. “Lean into me. Let me take as much of the weight you’re carrying as I can.”

As I tip into his steady hold obligingly, there’s a rustle of fabric by the door. Marc keeps his voice low, but the edge is still cutting. “That’s not how you talk to your empress.”

As if he and his twin didn’t order me around hundreds of times in the past year?

Bastien’s attention remains on me. He digs his thumbs into the crook of my shoulder with the start of a massage before answering. “It’s how I talk to the woman I love.” His voice softens without losing its possessive note. “The mother of my child.”

He dips his head lower to press a kiss to the top of my head. Only then does he glance Marc’s way. “ Someone needs to care about how she’s coping. ”

Even from the corner of my vision, I can tell Marc bristles. “I’ve been ready to defend her every second of?—”

“What, for the last four weeks after months of torturing her?”

“I never?—”

I pull away from Bastien, cutting my gaze toward Marc. “Stop squabbling. I don’t need any defending right now, definitely not from Bastien.” I tilt my head backward to look up at my prince directly. “And it’ll be a lot easier to relax if you’re not taking jabs at each other.”

Bastien grimaces apologetically. “Message received. I meant to focus on you anyway.”

In the silence that follows, he resumes his massage. As he works at the knots along my shoulders and upper back, I gradually sag into his touch. I hadn’t realized just how much tension I was holding in my muscles until now, feeling the aches he’s drawing out of them.

Bastien eases lower, running his thumbs down either side of my spine. When his hands come to rest on the sides of my waist, he leans in to brush a quick kiss to the side of my neck.

There’s no demand in the gesture. He immediately continues kneading at the kinks strung through my back. But the warmth of his lips wakes up a quiver of sensation that travels straight to my core.

One of my princes has slept beside me every night since the fire, but their embraces have stayed relatively chaste. Between my body being in flux after giving birth and the stress caused by Valerisse’s threats, there hasn’t been much room for desire to bloom.

Until now. It unfurls with each stroke of Bastien’s fingers. Warmth tingles through my sex and flushes the back of my neck.

Perhaps the quiver creeps into my breath as well. Perhaps the warmth seeps through the silk of my dress. Either way, Bastien’s massage turns into more of a caress.

He eases forward from where he’s now kneeling behind me and kisses the corner of my jaw. “Would you like to be taken care of in other ways, Star? Just say the word.”

Marc lets out a strangled sound. When I look his way again, his stance has gone taut, his eyes blazing.

His irritation sweeps away any doubts I might have harbored. Why should I spare him from the exposure to my real lovers? He knows Bastien fathered Coraya—it’s not as if it’s a secret how intimate we’ve already gotten.

He can’t have any real place in my life if he’ll never be willing to at least tolerate the men who’ve already earned theirs.

“If you don’t like what you’re seeing, you can look the other way,” I inform him.

Marc just glowers at me, but Bastien recognizes the permission in my words. His commanding tone returns. “Turn around.”

As I swivel on the stool to face him, a twinge that’s not entirely pleasant runs through my belly. “I may still be a little tender inside.”

From what I know of the healing arts, the medics’ efforts should mean anything I might want to do now is safe . Whether it’ll be fully enjoyable is a more subjective matter.

Bastien cups my face. “I’ll take good care of you. Exactly what you need. But if anything does hurt, smack me.”

At my snort, he smiles and then claims my mouth. The kiss sends a fresh rush of heat through my chest. As his tongue tangles with mine, my fingers dig into his shirt.

I have the vague impression of Marc’s gaze still boring into us, but I can’t say I care. There might even be a little thrill in the knowledge.

My true lovers have had to watch him—and mostly his twin—grope me whenever they please for over a year. Let him find out how it feels to have to watch.

Let him witness what a touch offered out of love should look like.

Bastien kisses me again and again, gentle but intent. His hands travel along my sides and up to fondle my breasts through my gown.

My nipples spark with a sharper pleasure than I’m used to. Their other recent purpose has left them extra sensitized.

My breath catches. At the heightening flares of pleasure, I press into Bastien’s touch.

“Oh, I’ve got more for you, Star,” he murmurs against my lips with another swivel of his palms against my breasts. “Spread those lovely legs for me.”

With a crackle of anticipation, I obey. Bastien sits back on his heels and gathers the layers of my skirt before shoving the heap of fabric nearly to my waist.

He kisses the inside of one knee and then the other. The brush of his mouth travels back and forth up my inner thighs.

By the time he reaches the edge of my drawers, I’m trembling. A pang has formed between my legs.

Bastien trails a delicate finger over the growing dampness at the crotch of my drawers. The jolt of sensation brings a gasp to my lips.

“Up,” he says, soft but firm. At my brief bob off the stool, he yanks my drawers from my thighs.

The moment they’ve pooled on the floor, he lowers his head to my sex.

The first swipe of his tongue shocks a groan out of me. It’s been so long—I’d almost forgotten just how good the men I love can make me feel.

My fingers curl into Bastien’s rumpled hair. He delves deeper, swirling his tongue over my clit, sucking that nub between his lips.

I sway with the waves of pleasure, clutching hold of him. He traces my folds and strums my clit before applying his mouth again, but not once does he press tongue or fingers into my channel.

Any lingering anxiety melts away. I rock into his attentions, riding his face. Every flick of his tongue sparks new tremors of bliss.

Bastien grasps my hips to pull me even tighter against him. He plunders me like I’m the only meal he’ll ever want to eat, and the sensations swell all through my body.

I bite my lip against a cry. One more lap of his tongue and press of his thumb, and I’m careening over the edge.

My thighs clench around his face. A shudder runs through me from toes to head, as if I’m going to float right off the ground.

When I come back to myself, Bastien is grinning up at me, licking his lips. Not a trace of disappointment that he didn’t get any physical gratification for himself shows in his expression.

Marc stands by the door so rigidly he might as well be made of marble, but he’s still watching us. The stark heat of his gaze—how much lust and how much anger, I can’t determine—sends another jolt through my nerves.

Bastien is just easing my skirt back over my legs when Raul and Lorenzo emerge through the hidden entrance.

Raul takes one look at the two of us, at my cheeks flushing hotter under his scrutiny, and clucks his tongue playfully.

“You’ve gone and hoarded her all for yourself, Bas. That’s hardly sporting.”

Bastien raises his eyebrows back at his foster brothers. “Maybe you should have figured out she headed back to her rooms sooner, then. I wasn’t going to make her wait when she needed attending to.”

I laugh and start to get to my feet. Lorenzo hustles to my side in time to grasp my elbow and steady me through one final tremor of aftershock.

He kisses my jaw with a teasing nip of his teeth. “I’m just glad to see our empress looking so satisfied.”

Raul hums, giving me another onceover and a cocky smile. “It does appear that our brother did the job well.”

Their companionable warmth wraps around me, lighting a glow inside that’s much more than just bodily pleasure. When they’re with me, every consideration—even the man who’s technically still my husband poised across the room—can fade into the distance.

Watching them, inspiration flares like a lantern in my head.

I’ve been trying to appease Sabrelle, to court her favor… an awful lot like I once courted Marclinus’s.

But I could never count on him to actually help me survive. It was the other men I turned to and won over who helped me achieve the heights I’ve gained.

Even Lucrene told me I should take my allies wherever I can find them. Strike a balance between all the empire’s needs.

That advice could apply to more than just my subjects.

I wet my lips. “I think… I think I might have been looking at this rebellion all wrong.”