Page 48 of My Princeling Brat (Tales from the Tarot #2)

Prince Cedrych

Irode in the automobile with Lord Vasil, my betrothed and future husband, back to the fortress, where he continued to shower me with tender affection and words of affirmation.

My mother took her palanquin, so it wasn’t until after I’d visited the healer to be checked over for any lingering effects of the poison and we were back in the parlor with refreshments that I finally had a moment alone with her

“Your elvish lord impressed me today,” she said with an air of superiority, as if his gallantry and skill as a sorcerer were still surprising to her.

“He impresses me every day,” I told her. She’d witnessed his very public proposal of marriage to me and my enthusiastic acceptance, but had not yet commented on it. Vasil had told me already he was willing to go to war with the fae realm if that’s what it took to keep me. Such a romantic.

“Well, I am glad you were safely recovered,” she said stiffly.

“Not much of a bargaining chip if I’m dead,” I replied.

She sniffed and a look of what may have been contrition passed over her normally stoic features, though she didn’t say anything more about it.

“Your father’s will stipulates that you are to inherit your title and lands once you marry. I suppose you and Lord Vasil will be setting a date soon?” she asked.

I turned to give her my full attention because I’d expected her to put up a fight about our betrothal–a real one this time. “Does that mean you bless this union?” I asked.

She sighed as if aggrieved by the request. “Well, it would seem it is either that or war with the elvish, and Lord Vasil has proven himself to be quite the formidable opponent.”

I smiled at her begrudging acknowledgement of his strength. My mother respected power, above all else, and Lord Vasil had it in abundance. Perhaps she also figured this alliance would benefit her somehow.

“I will no longer be beholden to you,” I reminded her, in case she intended to play the long game here.

“No, you won’t, but I do hope you will remember, though your loyalty may be to the elvish, you will always be of fae flesh and blood. My flesh and blood.”

Perhaps this was her way of telling me that she loved me? I tried to interpret it as that. “I will remember, Mother. And I thank you for arranging this betrothal. It just so happens I met the love of my life.”

“Love is for peasants,” she said with disdain, “but you could certainly do worse.”

I smiled, accepting her underhanded compliment for what it was. There was one more matter I wished to discuss with her. “With regard to my title and lands, there is one thing I would trade for it.”

She narrowed her eyes cunningly. My mother loved to barter, and if she thought the deal benefited her, all the better. “What could possibly be more important to you than upholding your father’s legacy?” she asked with a lift of one eyebrow.

“Starting new ones.”

“I thought I might find you out here,” I said to Lord Vasil. He was taking a break from the interrogations to find a moment of repose in his mother’s orchard.

My own mother had left the evening prior along with her retinue.

My lord had been busy working with the elvish guard to suss out the main conspirators among the Keepers.

Galen had proven invaluable in exposing those whose crimes included kidnapping and trafficking in fae minors.

The victims who were still children had been placed in homes until their families could be identified.

The older ones were enrolled in a rehabilitation program to combat their conditioning and reintroduce them to society.

From the intel we gathered, it seemed Bethel Kane targeted fae children in order to mold them into obedient foot soldiers.

Many of them came from guildless families who couldn’t afford their care.

I suspected the families had been tricked into thinking their children would be adopted into loving elvish homes.

Without families of their own to protect them, they had no power to refuse whatever dastardly deed Bethel Kane put them up to, and there had been many.

For his cooperation, Galen had been granted amnesty for his own part in the Keepers’ plot to overthrow Lord Vasil and now spent most of his time in the royal stable where his own horse Fidget was an honored guest. There would be trials in both realms by the time all of this was through, and multiple sentences for the main conspirators to serve.

My mother had also promised to personally have her royal archivist find Galen’s family so that he might one day reunite with them, if he so chose.

“I was thinking of a proper punishment and placement for Kane,” Vasil said to me regarding the culprit currently imprisoned in his dungeon and awaiting sentencing.

My mother had offered her own penal colony in the Northern Realm, but Vasil wanted to keep a closer eye on him.

Even with only one hand, Bethel Kane was a formidable sorcerer.

“Somewhere solitary where he cannot sway hearts and minds,” I suggested. The sorcerer should suffer the same isolation my lord had to endure all these years, not to mention we couldn’t have him forming yet another disastrous cult.

“A tiny island composed mostly of shell and sand,” Vasil mused. “There is one such place in the middle of the lunar straits, unnavigable by boat. No metal there for him to make mischief.”

“With guards,” I cautioned.

“Yes,” Vasil agreed, then shook his head and sighed. “I still can’t believe this has been going on right under my nose, that they were able to get away with this for so long.”

Vasil felt the weight of the Keepers’ crimes and blamed himself for not intervening sooner.

To their credit, they made sure their bad actions were kept secret, hiding in the abandoned mines, punishing their people for the slightest infractions.

Instilling fear and helplessness in the hearts of their followers and captives alike.

“The important thing we must do is to make sure it never happens again,” I told him.

His shoulders were tense with worry, so I gave him a light massage, trying to work out the kinks and knots that had accumulated in the past few days.

I knew what might relieve his stress, but I wasn’t going to add any more tasks to his plate.

Vasil let out a deep groan of appreciation and patted my hand.

“Thank you, Cedrych. Just knowing I have you in my corner is a great relief.”

“I’ll always be here to support you, my lord.

Your parents would be very proud of the way you’re handling this.

” I gestured to the life-sized sculpture of his parents with a fledgling Lord Vasil between them.

The sculpture must have been commissioned shortly before his parents’ death.

Both their hands rested lightly on his shoulders, and he looked serious even then, as if knowing the future responsibility that awaited him.

“I hope so,” Vasil said, gazing up at them with tenderness. “I do feel more settled in my spirit now that the culprit behind their murder has been discovered. I only wish it hadn’t taken me so long. But there is one good outcome in all of this.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“You.” He stood and swept me into his arms, claiming me with a searing kiss, one that stoked the fire within and ignited my urge to submit to him, to obey. “I know that look in your eyes, fair prince,” Vasil said with a knowing smile.

“Really, my lord? And what does it say?” I asked innocently.

“It says you want to be caged and restrained, put on your hands and knees and made to beg. Do you think you could beg for me, my darling prince?”

My wings buzzed at the thought of it and my cock stirred to life. “My lord, how can you suggest such provocative things in front of my future in-laws?” I nodded to the statue.

He chuckled and bowed in deference to his parents, “My apologies, my dear parents, for my crude behavior. You see, it is the prince who inspires my more hedonistic tendencies. Oh, what’s that?” Vasil tilted his head as if listening. “Yes, I agree the fae prince needs constant discipline.”

“They said no such thing,” I argued. “What I heard them say is that the prince needs constant spoiling.”

Vasil smiled, “Well, that is also true, but the spoiling comes after, you know.”

My throat went dry, and I had no further rebuttal, only anticipation for what my lord and Master had in store for me.

Vasil took my hand and led me away, telling a nearby guard that we’d be indisposed for the next few hours and should not be disturbed.

As it turned out, I begged very well.

We were in Vasil’s study a few weeks later.

I was on my knees, warming my lord’s cock while he looked over our revised bedsport contract.

Now that we’d had some time to experiment, there were some amendments to be made and new things to try.

As for myself, I focused on the unique flavor and texture of one of my most cherished playthings.

Tracing his throbbing vein with my tongue, my only job was to ensure that my lord’s royal member was comfortable and warm inside my mouth.

I took my duty seriously, for pleasing my lord, pleased me.

My concentration was interrupted by a knock on the study door.

Vasil’s hand covered the crown of my head, a silent order to stay.

His massive wooden desk hid me from view, so I gave him a nice long pull to demonstrate my obedience.

He groaned deeply and muttered, “Brat,” with affection before turning his attention to the door.

“You may enter,” Vasil said. His deep, commanding voice sent a quiet thrill through me. To be on the receiving end of that voice was a sensual delight.

“Lord Vasil, I bring with me a message from Queen Gwyneth of Emrallt Valley,” said a voice I didn’t recognize, though I could place their accent; this messenger was fae.

“Yes, what is it?” my lord asked, somewhat impatient for he didn’t like our alone time to be disturbed.

“There’s been an amendment to the Treaty of the Realms, which requires your signature to be ratified. The queen would like to announce it publicly during your wedding banquet at Crystal Castle.”

“What the devil?” Vasil remarked. I heard the shuffling of papers and then, “You may wait outside,” he said to the messenger without getting up. “Please close the door.”

I waited, quietly nursing Vasil’s cock while the man himself was silent, presumably reading.

“Cedrych,” he said at last and leaned back to peer under the desk at me.

“Mmmmm,” I murmured, unwilling to be thwarted from my very important task.

“Did you do this?” he questioned. I gazed up at him, wide-eyed and innocent.

He pinched my cheeks to release the suction from his cock, then hooked his hands under my armpits and sat me on his desk in front of him.

I took him in, pitched back in his throne-like chair with a look of suspicion.

Buttoned up everywhere except for his trousers, which were still undone with that gorgeous beast laid out and glistening for all to see.

My mouth watered. I wanted the weight of him back on my tongue.

“Explain yourself,” he commanded, and my attention was now drawn to his burning black eyes.

It took me another moment to remember myself, not as Vasil’s devoted submissive but as his betrothed and royal match.

I glanced at the paperwork, having some idea already what it said, for I was the one to orchestrate it.

“There is not much to explain, my lord. You’ve earned it. This title is your birthright, far too long denied.”

His eyes narrowed, the cogs in his clever mind turning. “I know the queen. She wouldn’t just hand this over to me without expecting something in return. What did you have to give up in order to make this happen?”

“My father’s lands and title,” I said simply, for I did not lie to him, ever. “I love my father, and I’ll forever be connected to the fae realm, but my allegiance is to you, my lord. Or shall I call you, my king?”

Vasil’s stern countenance broke as he shook his head and said with a reluctant grin, “You are mad.” He reached out to twist one pierced nipple through my shirt, sending another delicious thrill through me.

“I should punish you for this, you foolish, sweet, sentimental boy. How am I to ever repay you?”

“Consider this my wedding gift to you, my lord. Every day we are together is a blessing from the goddess divine. And now, I have the pleasure, along with your other loyal subjects, of calling you my king. King Mercier of the Vasil Clan. Tell me, Your Majesty, what shall you give as your first royal decree?”

Vasil’s smile widened, turning positively predatory. “For my first act as king, I wish to plunder my spoils. Now, undress yourself immediately, my handsome, scheming prince, and bend over my desk so that I might plow that gorgeous, impertinent ass into oblivion.”

“Here on your very important papers, my liege?” I asked coyly.

“Right here. Right now. Forever.”