Page 37 of My Princeling Brat (Tales from the Tarot #2)

“Like what?” Galen asked.

“She wants to control me, to run my life and determine my every next step. I feel as though I have no agency with her always interfering.”

“You could run away,” Galen said. “Disappear to the Northern Realm where no one would ever find you.” His wistful sigh made me wonder if he’d fantasized about that himself.

“But I have duties, you see, ones that I enjoy, and I don’t think I’d be successful at hiding.

I’m rather conspicuous. And I really don’t like the cold.

” I recalled then my ex’s parting words to me, that he hoped my mother would ship me to the Northern Realm where I’d freeze my nuts off and my dick would never get hard again.

I smiled at the thought of him, his fiery, take-no-prisoners spirit.

That minotaur surely had his hands full.

Galen smiled in return, revealing a row of slightly crooked teeth that looked as if they’d been blunted, another sign of abuse since fae teeth were naturally pointy.

I played the queen at last, which earned me enough hammer points to forge an axe and win the game.

Galen laid down his hand to reveal a unicorn, the card with the highest point value of the set.

“Why didn’t you play that one? You could have won the game.” Perhaps I’d not explained the rules well enough.

“I know, but I liked it. It’s my favorite card.”

“Have you ever seen a unicorn?” I asked him.

“No, but I’ve always wanted to. I’ve heard they are beautiful and rare.”

“And extremely aggressive. They delight in using their horn to spear flesh. Or so I’ve heard. You’re not supposed to approach them.”

“I wouldn’t dare. But back to your mother, Your Highness. If you like living here with Lord Vasil, then I wouldn’t give up so easily. Sometimes you have to fight for the thing you love most.”

“I don’t love Lord Vasil,” I protested, feeling a damning flush creep up my neck.

Galen shrugged. “But you love living here in the fortress, sparring with the elvish guard, playing StarForge with me,” he said with a bit of cheek.

“I do enjoy those things,” I admitted, while in my mind all I could see were Vasil’s bottomless, fire-rimmed eyes boring into me.

“Then you have to be willing to fight for it. Be willing to die for it,” Galen said. His narrow face turned grave, and I understood that it was the “her” he’d mentioned before whom he was protecting, not himself. Not his sister nor his mother, but perhaps a very dear friend.

“You know I can’t leave without asking you again, Galen. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

He lowered his head in sadness and shame. “No, Your Highness, there’s nothing more I can tell you. I’m truly sorry.”

I nodded, feeling more sympathetic toward the lad every day. Galen would confide in me soon enough, I was sure of it. I handed him back the unicorn card. “Hold onto this one until our next game. Keep it safe for me.”

He blinked, staring up at me with gratitude in his eyes before his face split into a brilliant smile. “I will, Your Highness. I promise.”

In the days following Lord Kazimir’s visit, Vasil was polite as ever, if not a little formal.

We went about our daily routines as before, slept in the same quarters, dined at the same table, dressed and undressed in each other’s company, but he held himself back.

He didn’t touch me or attempt to dominate me or make any sexual overtures, though he still watched me like a hawk.

Had his feelings toward me changed since learning my mother was possibly a murderess? Was he trying to weaken our betrothal bond?

Regardless, I didn’t care for it–not the distance nor the stiff formality–and after enduring his aloof behavior for a few days, I couldn’t help but be affected by it.

When I’d visited him here at his fortress many moons ago, I sat at the opposite end of the table.

Now, I was there at his right hand, though it felt, as before, like the Lunar Straits were between us.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Vasil asked, indicating the plate in front of me, largely untouched.

We were having dinner, and despite his emotional and physical detachment, he still paid close attention to my every move.

It felt like a betrayal, all of the surveillance with none of the rewards.

It bothered me in a way that reminded me of my mother.

“No, I’m not,” I said, sullen despite my resolve to not be. Uncertainty became anger, which then manifested as resentment.

“Is this dish not to your liking?” he asked, though without the superior tone this time. The cooks went to great trouble to prepare all of my favorite foods. I didn’t want to waste their efforts, but I couldn’t enjoy them when I felt unsettled

“You know that they are,” I said contemptuously.

“Then why aren’t you eating?” he asked with a rumble of dominance I had sorely missed.

“Because I don’t feel like it,” I snapped, my brattiness on full display.

“Well you can’t train with the guard if you’re not eating properly,” Vasil said, throwing down his napkin.

“Are you forbidding it?” I asked, testing his authority.

That seemed to give him pause. “What is the meaning of this, Cedrych?”

I stood from the table and strode across the room, landing in front of the window that overlooked the courtyard where guards-in-training were storing away the wooden weapons and hay-filled dummies for the night.

“Do you wish for me to leave, Lord Vasil?” I asked. I couldn’t face him right then. I didn’t want him to see the torrent of emotion on my face.

“No, of course not,” Vasil said, moving across the room to join me at the window.

“Nothing in your behavior toward me these past few days indicates you wish for me to stay.” At this point, I’d prefer a punishment for my impertinence as opposed to this careful, distant dance.

There was a beat of silence between us, and then Vasil’s arms wrapped around me, strong and secure, offering me the comfort I’d been sorely lacking.

His hand rubbed along my sternum, pressing me closer to him until I finally relinquished myself in his arms. Slowly, the tension bled away, though my distrust remained.

We stood like that for a while, silently reconnecting through touch, and then he said, “I’m sorry, Cedrych.

I’ve been in my head, plotting on how to keep you, as well as how to get your mother to confess. ”

“If she’s guilty,” I reminded him because I still had my doubts. Poisoning seemed somehow beneath her. My mother was cunning, yes, but she generally wanted her opponents to know that they’d been bested. She liked to gloat. This sort of underhandedness wasn’t her style.

“You’re right,” he said softly. “We don’t know anything for certain.”

“Why would she poison your parents and then back your accession?” I asked aloud, something I’d wondered several times myself.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s puzzling to me too, but then many of your mother’s intrigues are. But I am sorry I haven’t given you the attention you deserve. I’ve not been a very good host or a good dominant to you these past few days.”

“She’s coming tomorrow,” I said.

Vasil rested his chin on my shoulder. “At dawn.”

“This might be our last night together.”

His arms around me turned rigid, as strong as elvish steel. “Not if I can help it.”

His determination comforted me, but my mother was a formidable opponent. “Tonight is our only guarantee, my lord, so why not make the most of it?”

“Mmmm, I do have some ideas.” His hands slid from my chest to my hips, anchoring me to him in a decidedly amorous way. My body responded immediately.

“I’m interested to know more,” I answered, playing coy.

“Dinner first,” he said in his bossy way and escorted me back to the table. He stood over me and fed me slowly, one morsel at a time, his fingers so sticky with honey that I had to lick each digit individually. I gazed up at him while the submission flowed through my veins like a calming ichor.

“That’s a very good boy, Cedrych. Now, could we possibly forgo our usual nighttime rituals so that you might join me in the dungeon?”

I nodded, lust making my tongue thick and clumsy.

I stood as he plucked up his rod, then cuffed one strong hand around the back of my neck and guided me out of the room.

Our guards followed us into the flight box as we ascended toward his bedchambers.

I was trembling, my wings humming audibly with excitement.

Vasil smirked at my situation, which was both humiliating and arousing.

After ordering the guards not to disturb us unless absolutely necessary, he closed the door and we descended the stairs into his private dungeon.

In the center of the room Vasil released my neck, turned toward me, and uttered his one-word command. “Undress.”

If only there was some sorcery to disappear my clothing.

At least my garments were less complicated than his: boots, a canvas sparring jacket, deerskin trousers and a cotton tunic.

I discarded my underclothes as well, placing everything in a neatly folded pile as expected.

I stood in the waiting position, feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind my back, head slightly lowered.

It was not so different from a soldier’s at-ease stance.

The posture had a settling effect, especially in moments like these where I had no idea what he’d planned.

After taking a leisurely stroll around my person and inspecting my naked form from head to foot, Vasil approached, licked his thumb and forefinger and pinched one of my nipples until it pebbled. “I like these. These are very nice. Plump and round when soft and so perky and tight when aroused.”

A sudden flush crawled up my neck, surely giving me away if my vibrating wings and stiff prick hadn’t already. I was a glutton for his praise. “Thank you, my lord.”

“They turn a darker shade when stimulated.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”