Page 23 of His Dark Delights

Lilly

Mrs. Gibbons provided a brief rundown on dinner etiquette during the winding march through the elaborate palace halls. Each new piece of information seemed trivial and downright silly. Why did it matter which spoon I used for the soup or which fork during each course?

My father taught me as much about polite behavior and good manners as he could without telling me where he learned them from. He knew more about rules of conduct and decorum than the average farmer, yet never divulged who taught him. I hadn’t had the mind to ask until it was too late.

Rhydan stated I stood like a lady, and I had my father to thank for that. But if those manners were sufficient enough to dine with royalty, I couldn’t say .

The overload of information from Mrs. Gibbons buzzed around the inside of my skull like a shaken hive of angry bees.

Their stingers pricked at my brain and stung my tight, bristling skin.

I didn’t have enough room in my head to take in the well-meaning but rushed instructions, not while my heart thundered against my ribs.

“Breathe, dearie. You must breathe. The Grand Duchess isn’t so bad.” Mrs. Gibbons patted my arm. “Though I’d advise you to sit pretty. Don’t speak too much and she might not even notice you.”

“I can do that.” Sitting and listening like a pretty object of the king’s affection was demeaning. Simple farm girl or not, I loathed the idea of objectifying myself. But I needed to listen to every word spoken tonight. Surely someone would say something of worth.

Manservants at two wide doors opened them at our approach and they ushered me into a beautifully lit dining room.

The golden chandeliers sparkled and tall, arched stained glass windows permitted beautiful shafts of light from the sunset to gleam on the sapphire walls.

A long table that I imagined easily fit a hundred people sported dozens of vases with assorted flowers of every color spilling over.

Mrs. Gibbons left me on my own to drift through the room.

I was so far out of my league I might as well have been adrift at sea.

At least that’s what it felt like. At any second, a wave might crest over me and drag me into the depths.

I had to keep moving, keep breathing, keep treading water until my muscles gave out and I drowned.

If Soren Carnifex could have a grand purpose, then so could I.

The doors opened again, and every nerve in my body went on alert. I whipped my head around to find Rhydan, dressed in black and red, striding into the room. He appeared confidently at ease with his head tipped back and arms clasped behind his back.

“Rhydan,” I exhaled, encouraged at the sight of a friendly face.

His eyes perked up as he caught me crossing the corner of the extravagantly endless table. “You look well rested, my lady.”

A demure smile lifted my lips. “It’s going to go to my head if you keep calling me a lady. You’ve seen where I come from.”

“Aye, but we are not where we come from.” Rhydan’s shoulder lifted dismissively.

I had a brief thought that flicked through my mind so quickly it nearly slipped through my fingers. It was a bright flash of another life I’d never live, blinding in its intensity. The idea was nothing more than insanity.

Gazing at Rhydan under the evening light, his genuine smile, his warmth, I wondered why I hadn’t fallen in love with someone like him. A true knight and a gentleman I could have a simple life with.

Because fate was cruel, but not nearly as much as the king sauntering through the doors.

Only a caged animal could understand the restlessness within me the moment Soren swept into the room.

Bound beneath the confines of my skin, I paced like a panicked beast. My heart shot off like a startled bird flapping against iron bars.

The need to flee sparked along my spine, and I itched to turn and run away .

Maybe even to throw myself out of the window.

“Rhydan.” Soren lit up with a spark of companionship that confirmed they were genuine friends. The knight wasn’t one of the fake ones.

“My Liege,” he replied in a teasing tone, like the title was a joke between them.

“And Lilliana.” The king’s breath shuddered through him, and a low whistle breached his lips when he turned his gaze on me. Something utterly indecent flashed through his eyes as he blatantly stared at the swells of my breasts pushing out of the dress.

A deep wave of delight quivered through me as he stepped closer. Not even the shadows that followed that mountain of a man could deter the warmth pooling between my thighs. Every thought I had since our last encounter flew right out of my ears.

“Your Majesty.” I dipped into a curtsy, supplicating myself before the Fairy Butcher. Brief revulsion coiled through my insides while I cast my eyes on the floor, staring at the king’s boots. Not toward him, but my reaction.

A firm finger curled under my chin, tipping my head back. His knuckles caressed over my cheek while he guided me upright. Charged tension billowed between us, almost powerful enough to stop my breath.

“Do not disparage yourself for me, Lilly. You are above that.” Soren’s thumb swiped lighter than a feather over my bottom lip. “My Queen of Flowers,” he whispered.

My breath hitched, and my heart stuttered.

Damn him. I nearly followed his hand when he pulled away. Next time, it would serve me better to bite one of his fingers off .

His Majesty guided me to the end of the table. He pulled out the chair to the left for me while Rhydan seated himself in the next chair. Soren took the head of the table, close enough that his boot nudged my heel, and we were nearly rubbing knees.

My face flushed, both with wanton heat and anger. I gritted my teeth and folded my hands in my lap to hide their trembling. After this morning’s incident, I had no grasp on the web of emotions weaving through my chest.

“Where is your delightful aunt, Ren?” Rhydan spoke first.

Soren groaned and swatted his hand through the air. “Gods, I hate when you call her that. It’s likely the old bat just wants to keep me waiting after I was late this morning.”

A new servant snuck into the room. Soren and Rhydan didn’t spare the young man a second glance as he went about pouring crystalline glasses full of pale red wine.

“Thank you,” I breathed quietly when the servant leaned over to fill my glass.

His head whipped to the side, eyes wide as if he’d misheard me. I smiled, ensuring he saw my gratitude. Red crept into his cheeks and the shell of his ears.

A giggle slipped from me.

His Majesty gratingly cleared his throat, then snarled, “That’s enough.” He snapped his fingers, and the young man shot upright. A second later, he scampered off with the king’s glare hot on his tail.

Soren pressed his knee into mine under the table. An unseen but very palpable claim, and a warning. You are mine .

“How did the council meeting go?” Rhydan slipped into conversation. He spun the stem of his glass between his fingers, eyes on the king.

Soren slumped back in his seat and idly sniffed.

“At every turn, the damned council and Cecily turn down my efforts. They say I should leave the fighting to the soldiers and the war is disrupting the political climate of our kingdom. Either they’ve forgotten where I came from or they’re purposely pretending. ”

“Maybe they’re trying to keep their king out of harm’s way. You only returned two weeks ago on the mend from near fatal injuries. Your last crusade almost killed you, after all.” The knight abruptly gestured to me, and I bit down on a squeak. “You’re only alive, thanks to her.”

Soren’s darkened eyes flicked to me and immediately softened. “I know that. I owe her my life,” he vented, speaking to his friend.

“Aye, and perhaps you should act like it,” Rhydan gritted out, boldly showing his distaste at my circumstances and how the king, his friend, had treated me thus far.

I met the knight’s gaze, sending him a silent thank you.

In the corner of my vision, I didn’t miss Soren’s fist curling on the edge of the table.

It felt good to have someone in my corner, like someone had finally thrown me a life raft in the choppy waters I tread.

Support I couldn’t fully rely on, but I’d breathe easier among the sharks with my head above the waves.

“Watch how you speak to me. I could have your head for that,” Soren grumbled.

“This is what I get for the council putting a bastard on the throne,” Rhydan retorted .

They stared off at one another for what felt like ages. Long enough that I held my breath and became dizzy from the effort. When I thought they’d lunge over the table at one another, they threw their heads back instead, barking with laughter that shattered the tension.

Soren chuckled, wiping fake tears from his eyes. “I hold Lilly here in such high regard for what she’s done. As a matter of fact, I’ll even let her sit in a place of honor.” He turned his attention on me, then patted his lap. “Come here, Lilliana.”

Like a gods-damned puppet on a string, I rose to my feet. Internally, I caterwauled like a deranged wildcat in the woods. “Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied stoutly.

To the best of my ability, I sashayed the short distance toward the king. His dazzling gaze seared my skin as he savored the sway of my hips and the way my dress hugged my curves. His smile was utterly predatory, and it provoked a line of desire that squirmed through my belly.

“A vision of beauty deserves her own throne, but this will suffice for now.” He curled his arm around my waist as I slid into his lap. The table was high enough for both of us, and the tablecloth hid our legs.

I tried to remember my newfound purpose—to please the king, pretend I loved him, and sway him from the war.

However, an indecent impulse settled at the apex of my thighs the moment I sat down.

With the heat of his leg pressed against me and his chest flush with my spine, I completely forgot where I was.