Page 43 of Pawn of the Cruel Princess

I walk forward, pluck a berry from her plate, and pop it into my mouth. “Mmm. Delicious. Meldare, make up a tray with some of these refreshments and bring it along to my room.”

“Yes, Princess.”

Imrissa keeps smiling her haughty little smile at me, and I return it with a poisonous one of my own.

“Tomorrow we’re going to the Veil of the Priestess,” says Imrissa. “It’s a waterfall with a deep swimming hole. Anyone who visits the falls must perform a carnal rite or a ceremonial copulation to honor Beirgid. Will you be joining us, Princess Ruelle?”

I’d rather cut the nipples and noses off a dozen prisoners. But it’s a pointed question, intended to discern whether I’ve overcome my aversion to sexual acts. Why my intimate life should be such a matter of concern is beyond me. I can’t understand why the people of this wretched kingdom seem so personally offended and displeased by someone who abstains from sex.

But this is the first group activity of Summerglee. If I want to continue with the momentum I’ve gained, I have to attend.

“Of course I’ll be there,” I hear myself saying.

Oh gods. What am I doing? What did I just agree to?

Something warm presses at my waist, against my back. Ducayne’s hand.

He’s touching me without permission. I should be angry, but—the heat of his palm is soothing. My breathing eases.

“I have to thank you, Vienne,” I continue. “It seems as though everyone is charmed with Ducayne. You were right. He is worth three of your thralls.”

And with a nod to Imrissa, I leave the garden.

14

My first evening at Summerglee is a haze of indolent smiles, drawling voices, lamplight, andhannassmoke. The nobles eat dinner while lounging on couches together. A few of them make their thralls serve as footstools. So far, the clothes have stayed on.

“It always takes a while for the barriers to break down,” I hear Lady Umari murmuring to Ruelle. “The first night is fairly tame. Smoking, drinking, politics. You’ll start to see alignments, though. Bazra and those two surly-looking nobles from the central plains. The Crown Princess with Lady Imrissa and Countess Jilleen, of course.”

“Who’s the handsome one talking to Khal?” Ruelle asks.

I’m sitting at Ruelle’s feet while one of Umari’s triplets braids my hair. When Ruelle mentions “the handsome one,” my heart jerks. I look up, searching for the lord of whom she’s speaking.

He’s a lean shadow of a man, my age or a little younger. Attractive, I guess, in a keen, sharp, cutting way, like a knife.

Fuck me. Of course she likes him—she loves knives.

“That’s Ward, Cowen’s younger brother,” Umari says.

“The one who likes chemicals and explosives?”

“Not only that. He crafts the finest drugs in the kingdom. Drugs that make standardhannaslook like a cup of weak tea. I’ll wager he has brought a selection with him. He trades his best blends for special favors.”

“What kind of favors?”

“A lady never tells. But I will say that he prefers nobles to thralls. So if you want to bargain with him, it’s yourself you’ll be offering, not this fine piece of man-flesh.” Umari reaches down and squeezes my shoulder. “Oh my gods—so massive. So solid.” She squeezes again, then nudges the triplet with her foot. “You and your brothers should exercise more, bulk up those muscles.”

“Yes, my lady,” he replies.

“This is Keb, by the way,” Umari says. “I’m bringing him to the waterfall tomorrow. You’re attending, yes?”

Ruelle clears her throat. “Yes.”

“Are you planning a carnal rite or a ceremonial copulation?”

I listen desperately for Ruelle’s answer, because I have no idea what those are. Well, I know what copulation is, but ceremonial? The Thannirans are obsessed with physical pleasure—their entire religion centers on it, but I’ve never studied their rituals in detail.

“I haven’t decided yet,” says Ruelle.