Page 7 of Nightingale (The Broken Kingdoms #1)

H e was late, which was unusual for the vain peacock of a Prince. She’d gotten dressed in the surprisingly chaste clothes as if he didn’t want to see any inch of her. The dress was covered in the areas that his elder brothers insisted on showing, much to her surprise. There was still a bit of her stomach to be seen, where the leather skirt came up to her navel and plunged downwards in an arching triangle design. The top matched, falling three inches from the skirt.

The shirt wasn’t truly a shirt, but a leather vest crafted of cerulean panels and sewn together with chestnut that mimicked her skin along the capped sleeves and hem. The bottom portion was of a similar pattern and fell in pointed wefts that split up the sides where her legs were. He’d given her matching boots that were held together by cords that zig-zagged through the holes and knotted at the top.

Castil hadn’t dressed her like a Princess, he’d dressed her like a fighter.

A kernel of respect followed for him as he’d also sent a pair of shears alongside the outfit. One’s that the servants didn’t dare let her touch, instead asking her where she’d prefer the new length to fall. Vrea had happily mimicked where she’d like the cut to occur with her hands, showing them from a couple of different angles to have them accurately snip off the proper amount. They followed through with her wishes and her hair now fell just an inch above her shoulders. Without all of the weight to hold it down, her natural waves returned.

The blond Prince didn’t dare to suggest that she wear any crown atop her head, which the others had only done to mock her title. He didn’t offer her any jewellery either. So her wrists and ankles were bare, her neck didn’t hold any glittering gems, and her ears bore nothing at all.

When the second hour passed and the great clock in her room chimed, Vrea wondered if this was some sort of game. He still hadn’t come for her, and she’d been sitting on the couch, awaiting his arrival.

The third passed and finally her door opened.

She bolted upright, a reprimand already flying off of her tongue. “You’re la-”

Vrea stopped as the royal entered her room. It wasn’t Castil that appeared, but Rian instead.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He looked surprised to still see her here of all places, instead of with the party that rambled on. “I was pondering over if you’d join us or not. My father sent me to retrieve you, which was my brother’s job. But as he doesn’t seem to be here, I’m not entirely sure where he is, or why he didn’t escort you down.” He said by way of greeting. “Either way, let’s get you downstairs before my father throws a conniption that his favourite toy is missing out.”

“Is that what I am to him?” Vrea slowly rose from the cushions, fixed her stiff skirts and ambled over to him. She’d known it all along but didn’t let it show on her face. “A toy?”

“Toys get taken out and played with,” Rian stated, as if that would soothe the wounds of his words over any better. “At least he doesn’t have you rotting away in the dungeon, in rags and without the sunlight. You eat as well as any of us and drink more water and juice than any other prisoners. I would consider that to be far more enticing than anything else. I wouldn’t take that for granted if I were you, Vrea.”

Her temper flared and she let that show. “Just because my cage does not have bars on the window or rats scurrying along the floor, does not make it any less of a cage.”

“I could add rats, if it would help you feel more grateful for your surroundings.” He suggested with a playful youth and her lip popped open, flabbergasted that he would even say such a thing.

“Don’t you dare.” She hissed, trying to look as menacing as possible without any sort of blade in her hand to wave in his attractive face. “If I so much as find a single rodent in my area, I will shove it under your pillow for you to find the next day.”

“You failed to access my chambers the first time, what makes you so sure that you’d be able to this time?” The Prince taunted and she wanted to wipe the stupid tease out of his mouth with a dirty dishrag. Preferably one that had been soaking in a disgusting mix of mold, leftovers and cat piss.

A better threat came to mind.

“Actually, do it. ”

Rian had the good sense to look startled at her instant change of mind. “Why do I have the unnerving feeling that it wouldn’t end well for me if I did?”

She acted as if nothing were amiss. “Let’s just say that a certain smell might start driving you insane, and you won’t know where to find it in order to clear it out.”

Because Eamin had loved that particular idea when she’d been young. He’d cut a hole in her mattress and shove shit into it, sewing the patch back up with expert precision and leaving it to rot and fester as she slowly began to pull her hair out. Sometimes, he’d even flipped the mattress back around so she wouldn’t be able to find the entry at all, leaving her to toss the damned thing out of her room and order a new one made.

It could be fun to return the favour to someone she actually hated.

Though she despised most of her siblings.

Most of them were dead.

“Now I’m tempted to try it, for the sheer sake of seeing what silly punishment you come up with.” Rian shoved his hands into his pockets and she noticed that he was wearing less than she was, for once. Perhaps he’d been mid-tangle with the girl from the previous night, only to be called out of his bed and sent to see what held her up instead.

His silk shirt was a ruby red and there were no buttons or laces that kept it closed. It fluttered with each brush of his legs that he took, shoved into a high waisted pair of black trousers that barely covered anything thanks to the wide slats along the sides that showed off his muscled legs. They were sewn with small X’s along the top portion, to make sure that certain parts didn’t accidentally appear.

Vrea stopped dead in her mental tracks.

She was thinking about parts, his parts.

Seven hells, it’d been far too long since she’d taken a lover if that was any indication. He’d been in her mind the previous two nights as well, flaunting his conquests directly in front of her as he sat them on his lap and let his hands wander all over them as the night passed along.

She pondered if he’d do the same tonight.

But with no sign of her actual escort, it was unlikely that he’d find himself elsewhere.

Rian guided her to her seat for the night, next to him as he pulled her chair out and allowed her to sit down before he gently pushed it back in. He took up his place beside her and began to serve her food, piling it up on her plate high as conversation flowed naturally.

Rabbit flank coated in a honey drizzle with thyme, chicken roasted with butter and cream, and cow cooked in a sweet sesame sauce that contained peanuts. He added lettuce with a raspberry dressing and candied pecans, tossing a fresh roll atop the pile and finally setting it before her before starting on his own plate.

Which he doubled the amount of food on.

Vrea waited for him to take a bite of everything, which he did- most likely to show her that it was safe to eat. She’d previously waited for the others as well, only allowing herself a small morsel to keep her stomach from rumbling.

Rian must have seen that, because he’d only added the exact same items to his own plate and took a bite out of everything first before nudging her shoulder with his elbow and motioning for her to begin eating. He cut his steak and devoured it within the span of five minutes, moving onto the two rolls and following it with the roasted chicken.

Vrea poked at the rabbit, slicing away piece after piece and allowing her ravenous hunger to take over as she cleared her plate, section by section.

As dinner and a creme-coated tart dessert passed, there was no sign of Castil anywhere. She half expected to see him in the blurry darkness of the chamber like a shadow demon but hated that she even looked for him.

Women danced with small bells on their low hips as they jiggled back and forth, men played the lilting lute alongside a pan flute, whispering ancient melodies that made her want to sing with them. She longed to join them in harmonious matrimony and let her voice ring out. Her mother had given in to her wish to learn how to sign after a year of begging. Which was something she never did elsewhere.

But it was something that Vrea was glad for because she loved to do it. It was something that she still dipped her toes in whenever it was late enough at night that most of the castle would be asleep. Almost every night, she sang to herself.

It was soft lullabies for a child to fall asleep to, or bawdy tunes that the occasional tavern played. The only reason she knew of those was because of her brothers, who would return home after a couple more drinks than they should have had, and sang them back to her in horrible replication with burps following. She would hum music that had no lyrics, remembering the tune well enough to carry out the long notes and high pitches without the sentences of most ballads.

Vrea missed singing for someone, most of all.

Watching their reactions as they sat in silence and listened to her, occasionally swaying with the melody or joining in.

There was no one to do that for her now.

“You’re distracted,” Rian uttered from beside her as the plates were cleared away by passing servants. They reached in between them all and took them, one by one as they stacked them high enough to be a tower.

“I’m not exactly in my element, now am I?” Vrea muttered, feeling uncomfortable by the empty chair to her left, where Castil would have been. “For three nights now, your family has dragged me out of the one thing I know and forced me to be this… this decoration for the sake of pleasing your sentries.”

“Pleasing our sentries?” He asked.

She jerked her thumb towards the dancing women who had stopped, instead using their bodies to wriggle up against some of the men who’d jumped out of their seats to join them.

“Ah,” He nodded, “I see what you mean. Believe it or not, it’s completely up to the women whether they’d like to join the men in their beds or not. We don’t force that kind of thing on anyone here. Even if you think the opposite of us, even if you think we’re savages.”

“Savages are far superior than you.” She retorted, prickled by the intimate act that one of the men had begun. His hands ran up and down the woman’s sides, lifting her skirts and rubbing back and forth at what lay between her legs.

Vrea felt the heat as it entered her bones, slinking across her core and causing a wetness to begin. She shifted in her seat as the man’s fingers skimmed her stomach, disappearing beneath the band of her skirt.

“Oh?” Rian lifted a brow. “Then what are we?”

The man dragged her into a shadowed area of the room, hidden from most prying eyes. Rian seemed to see where her attention was and adjusted her chair in order to allow her to see better, to see it all.

“Dogs.” She breathed as her chest constricted, her breasts heavy and aching. The woman let out a moan as he bit down on her arm, arching her back into him even more as he moved her skirt out of the way and removed his glistening fingers.

With a swift plunge, he was inside of her.

And Vrea felt like she was burning up.

“Dogs don’t do that.” The Golden Prince whispered in her ear as she couldn’t help but watch them. She couldn’t tear her gaze off as he thrust into her, grabbing at her breasts and riding her hard.

Vrea felt the warmth of Rian’s breath against her prickled skin. She shivered and he honed in on it.

“Dogs fuck even harder, even worse.” He murmured and leaned in closer until she sensed the briefest kiss of his skin on her stomach. “I’m sure you’d be horrified to witness an act like that.”

He skimmed across her torso, toying with the band of her skirt. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything but the brush of him on her and the sight that started it all.

“I’m sure,” Vrea’s mouth was insanely dry, as wetness gathered in other parts of her. Rian didn’t stop caressing her, didn’t stop playing with the leather flaps that concealed her aching sex.

He lowered a kiss to her neck, her ear, her cheek.

His tongue darted out, tasting her flesh and rumbling praise for her.

She leaned into it, desperate for a finish by someone else’s hands, instead of riding her own in the late hours when the rest of Hawksmoor was fast asleep. If it had to be any of them, at least it was Rian who reached between her thighs and swore. Vrea groaned, biting her lip to keep it in as he circled her clit, dragging a finger through her.

“Shit,” He muttered and the heat was immediately gone as he pulled back.

She almost demanded for him to return, to plunge that single finger inside of her. But then he held his hand out to her, his light eyes turned dark, husky and she realised that this was far from over. Vrea took it, and he whisked her out of the hall, and away from prying eyes.