Page 18 of Shadows and Roses (The Dark Queens #1)

Jerome stood guard outside her chambers; the man probably didn’t sleep. He didn’t seem surprised to see Castien approaching. Although, he looked suspiciously amused.

Castien passed him and stepped through her open door.

An unmistakable hint of roses laced the air. It was the only evidence that royalty dwelled here. He should have known better, but he had expected her bedroom to be richly decorated, luxurious, and decadent. Of course, it was similar to the rest of the Queen's Wing—austere, simple, practical. There was still an elegance to the basic layout, and no one would mistake the room for a peasant’s, but it was hardly fit for a Queen.

"Darius? Close the door, will you?" Anais said from a small table, her back to the entry hall.

He cleared his throat. "My Queen."

She spun, eyes wide. "Castien!" Surprise, but not displeasure.

"My apologies. Darius suggested… were you not aware?"

Why was his heart fluttering like a hummingbird, his palms damp as though this was his first assignment?

She smiled, the curve of her lips soft and hesitant. "I wasn’t sure if you’d come."

He bowed, words fleeing him. She was silent as well, though her eyes roamed over him. Perhaps she did not want him here.

They both spoke at once.

"If you’d prefer Darius—" he demurred.

"I don’ t want to pressure you—" she began.

Then she huffed a laugh and waved to the table. "Have a seat, please."

He could do that.

His master would be horrified at his embarrassing behavior. The amusement must have shown on his face.

"Tell me what you’re thinking?" she asked. Gentle and calm, nothing like the commands from their first private visit. She hardly resembled that Queen at all.

He brushed away the memory and smiled. "Just that Master Iberius would be outraged at my inexcusably awkward behavior. He’d probably ask if I’m feeling well and send me to the healer."

Her smile was more open this time. "Maybe you can pretend I’m a client. What would you do?"

"Ah, let’s see." He looked around again. "Not much to work with. Some clients display their favored musical instrument and allow me to show off my abilities, or at least an opening for an engaging conversation."

A small bowl of dried flowers sat on the table. "Ah. Your rose garden would make for a lovely outing, but I know that you’re tired. Perhaps a massage?"

Her eyes lit up. "That sounds absolutely delightful. Please, if you don’t mind."

"It would be my pleasure." He gestured to the bed.

She let her robes slide off her shoulders as she stood, revealing her bare back and a thin silk skirt. Clearly, she'd been expecting intimacy with Darius. A small flare of irrational jealousy gave him pause as she laid on the bed, her head pillowed on her crossed arms. Gathering himself, he glided to her side and placed his hands on her skin. The other courtesan was not competition. And more importantly, Darius was not here .

She was soft. There was no mistaking the muscle beneath every inch of deceptively feminine skin. Muscles that were melting like warm butter beneath his fingers.

She sighed. "Thank you. This week… I wish…"

"Don't talk. Especially not about anything that's going to ruin my work."

She turned to smile at him, then closed her eyes.

Her body relaxed beneath his hands. If he was being honest, this massage was an opportunity for him to touch her. Perhaps he could satisfy his need by simply touching, exploring her with his hands, and be done with this insanity.

It was not helping. Her naked skin only stoked the fire in his chest. The more she relaxed, the gentler his hands became, barely doing more than running his fingers up and down her spine. Now he wanted more than a touch.

Perhaps if he tasted her.

Not thinking, only need and desire guiding him, he leaned down, closer, his lips brushing at the point between her shoulder blades. Her tiny gasp exhaled into a quiet moan as he licked up, toward her neck.

She stirred, her voice a low whisper. "Castien. I’m not a client. If you don’t want—"

"Would you like me to stop?" he murmured into her hair.

"No," she breathed.

His lips latched onto her neck, sucking and licking. Intoxicating roses swirled through his head. More. He needed more. Her breathing deepened as his tongue swept her skin. She caught his mouth on the next sweep, her tongue stroking a groan out of him. She squirmed until his hands lifted, then twisted her body and wrapped her arms around his neck.

When she settled back onto the pillow and rested her hands on his shoulders, her gaze burned into him. "Castien—"

His finger went to her lips. He didn’t know what that look meant, and he didn’t want her to ask if he was certain, to make him think too hard about this ache inside him.

"Unless you’re about to tell me to leave, let me show you what I can do. I want to. I want… you." He needed to touch her, every inch of her.

His finger drifted to her cheek, and she licked her lips, her tongue lapping at where he’d just touched.

"I was hoping you’d say that." That intense, breathless tone clenched his heart. There had been more than one infatuated client who thought they wanted something beyond the contract. Most were only interested in his exclusive services, something she hadn’t even asked for.

What was he doing? He wasn’t modest. He knew the body intimately, could make his clients scream in pleasure. Emotions he manipulated with ease—in the bedroom, for the purpose of pleasure. He’d never wanted—needed—to prove himself to a client before.

She wasn’t a client. Thankfully.

Her lips parted again. "I… want you, too. I would’ve asked earlier, but… I hated the thought of invoking your contract, of pressuring you in any way. I’m sorry if I seemed uninterested. I didn’t know how to approach you."

Laughter rose in his chest, swallowed down at her entirely serious tone and expression.

Remarkable.

Her open and beautiful honesty strummed at his heart. He’d think about his insanity later. Right now, he wanted to explore this woman who didn’t care that he was a courtesan except that it would make her advances seem ingenuine, who handled a court of snakes on a daily basis but wasn’t sure how not to offend a bed servant .

He leaned back into her lips, his hand running up her stomach to the underside of a breast. Her soft moan and arch pressed her breast into his hand.

"Do you want to know what to say to me?" he murmured into her neck. She nipped his ear and made an agreeable sound.

"Be honest." He kissed her collarbone.

"Show me you mean what you say." He licked between her breasts.

"Dance with me into exhaustion like you did today." His tongue swirled and fluttered over sensitive skin.

A claw hooked his chin and tugged him back to her lips. After a breathless kiss, she sighed contentedly. "You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, and your presence somehow comforts me. I can sense when you walk into a room and I want to smile when I see you. Sometimes I do anyways."

He had asked for honesty, and she gave it. Pleasant warmth filled his chest. He was going to do terribly delightful things to her, beginning with—

A knock on her door and a cough.

"My apologies," her captain called out.

Castien growled at the door.

"The chamberlain is asking for you. Urgently."

She rolled her eyes. "Can’t Vern deal with her?"

"The steward is handling the court, my Queen." Was that a hint of reproach in Jerome’s voice?

Castien raised an eyebrow.

She grinned, then sighed. "I’ll be out in a minute."

Firm footsteps stepped out. Castien snuck in another kiss even while she pushed his chest away with one hand and pulled his hips closer with the other. Eventually, he toppled onto the bed, letting her escape.

She pointed at him. "Stay right there. I’ll return soon. "

He laughed. "Was that honesty?"

She grumbled while throwing on some clothes. "Ugh. Fine. You’re welcome in my chambers for the night. I’ll try to return soon."

"I can do that. Have fun." He winked at her, dodging the sock tossed at his face.

Anais

"It is still officially my birthday, Jerome. What is so urgent?"

Her captain bowed his head, speaking as they walked. "The Nadraken spy wasn’t alone. Lady Lyrroth was accosted on the way to her chambers, her keys stolen. The keys were recovered before they were used, and the thief is in our dungeons."

The spy who had burnt to a smoky crisp by the end of the day. His guilt hadn’t warranted that punishment. She snapped, "Then why am I needed?"

"The lady says they took something else, something important, but she will only tell you. Nothing was found on the thief."

She scowled. The chamberlain was prone to dramatics when it concerned the treasury.

They entered the healer’s hall, the lady in question lying on a cot, her eyes closed, a frown marring her forehead. Her wrist and hand were bandaged, and there was a small cut on her cheek.

"Chamberlain. You requested an audience." Anais spoke in as cold a tone as she ever used. No one summoned the Queen.

Lyrroth’s eyes flew open and she gasped. "My Queen! Please forgive me!" She made to stand but Anais' sideways glance sent her captain pressing the lady back down.

"Stay where you are. Speak," she commanded.

Lyrroth shrank on the cot. "I was attacked—"

"Don’t waste my time. What will you not tell my Escort?"

The lady started shaking, rubbing at her injured arm. "Please, my Queen. For your ears only. I beg you."

Anais glared in icy silence, then glanced at Jerome again.

He patted the lady for weapons.

"Clear the room." The Queen raised her voice. Healers and servants fled, the few patients on cots quickly helped to a different room. Jerome stood beside the door—out of hearing but in sight.

The lady sighed in relief. "You know my loyalty is only to you, my Queen."

To her gold, more like, but close enough in this case.

"And I would never betray you. But, they took my daughter a week ago. The thief said he knows where she is. I… I gave him the keys so he wouldn't hurt her. He said if I told anyone, they'd kill her."

Fear for her child. Anais pitied her, but the Queen couldn’t.

"My dear Lyrroth," she purred, perching at the lady’s bedside. She ran her claws down the woman’s arm, tapping at the bandages. "How fortunate for you that it’s still my birthday. We'll find your girl."

"Thank you! Thank— Ah!"

Her claws punctured the bandages, stabbing through the lady's hand. Blood slowly soaked the white cloth and began to drip onto the sheets below. Lyrroth screamed.

"You should have come to me or an Escort immediately. Do you understand that?" Anais said gently.

"Yes. Yes, my Queen, this will never happen again." Pain strained her voice, fear flashing in her eyes .

"Mmhm. Should we, somehow, find ourselves in this uncomfortable situation again, you will need a very accurate accounting of the coins in the treasury. That is how many steps you will walk. Healer!" The last word was shouted, startling the lady. Anais stood and withdrew her claws.

A blue-robed woman rushed into the room, bowing.

"Tend her hand. Carefully. My chamberlain needs to be able to write."

The healer bowed again and scurried off to gather supplies.

Anais took two steps, cleaning her claws on a towel. She turned almost absently. "Oh. Once we find your daughter, I think it best if she comes under my protection. Don’t you agree, my lady?"

Lyrroth hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. Thank you, my Queen."

Hesitation was to be expected. A traitor would have protested more. Satisfied, Anais addressed the guards, tossing out commands. The thief would need to be interrogated quietly, then the girl recovered. As well as additional guards and vigilance to prevent these continued, irritating infiltrations. Spies amongst the servants were unavoidable, but the chamberlain should have been better guarded.

She rolled her shoulders after those heavy wooden doors closed behind her. Castien would reprimand her for tensing up again. If he was still in her room. If she hadn't chased him off by being too forward. She hesitated at the entrance to her own chambers, glancing at her captain as an excuse not to enter.

"No more surprises tonight, please," she murmured.

He simply bowed. That was almost certainly amusement on his lips though. Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed open the door.

Relief and joy washed over her when she found Castien sitting at her table, frowning at some documents. A dark curl of hair fell over his eyes. Her fingers twitched with the strangest urge to brush it aside.

"Reading anything interesting?" She gave him a half-hearted smile, leaning heavily against the wall.

He looked up. "My House dossier. Apparently I’m sensitive and don’t like being lied to. Who likes being lied to?"

"Some prefer flattery to the truth."

His right eyebrow arched. "I’m not sure your court counts as people."

She sighed. No, they were just the worst sort of people. "Thank you for staying."

He shuffled the papers together. "You look exhausted all over again. May I offer another massage?"

"Hmm. No, I need some air. Come." She smiled, beckoning him with an outstretched arm. He didn’t move right away, watching her with those too-observant eyes.

"Still afraid of me?" she teased.

He stood and followed her. "Just wondering what other secrets you’re hiding."

"I’m a Queen. So many secrets. Most of them terribly boring," she tossed over her shoulder.

A spiraling tower led to a sprawling balcony with a large table. She sighed as she sat, weariness likely slowing her senses so that when Castien fell to his knees beside her, she was surprised.

Castien caught her hand. "You could never bore me," he murmured as he kissed every finger, caressed every claw, sending tingling little jolts of lightning through her arm.

A smile crept onto her face. "Be careful. You might find yourself in extremely dull council meetings with that kind of talk," she replied while his lips glided over her hand.

He pulled the other chair closer and sat across from her, still holding her hand. "Nothing could possibly be dull with you beside me. I could easily spend every day listening to your voice, even when you speak as the Queen." His eyes held hers as he leaned forward. "You may sound cold, but there is a depth that’s fascinating and terrifying. Absolutely beautiful, Anais."

The warm late summer breeze swirled the sound of her name through the air. She inhaled and closed the distance, her free hand touching his cheek. "I terrify you?"

His lips curved. "Like a moonless night. Too dark to see where danger might come from." A pause as his eyes lowered. "I like danger," he whispered against her lips.

Her face tilted just enough that their lips brushed, then melded together.

Soft, gentle, sweet. His mouth demanded nothing but coaxed hers open nonetheless. His tongue tentatively tasted her, letting her lead every step of this dance. She explored him, tasted him, stroked him. Then leaned away.

"Castien… Do you enjoy your House persona?"

He stared as though caught off guard, then something curious and dark slid into his eyes. "Yes. I do. Is that something you’re interested in, my Queen?" he murmured in a low voice that heated her core, curled into the apex of her thighs.

"Yes. I think." She shivered at the darkness swimming in his eyes, his brown irises tinted black in the dim lighting. The smile that spread his lips hinted at a dangerous but delicious pleasure. Her breath quickened as she hovered between wanting to taste that pleasure on his lips and continuing to drink in the promise of delights in every inch of his skin.

His finger stroked slowly down her cheek, drawing a shudder as she closed her eyes. It was a feather-light touch that left an unforgettable impression and a burning desire.

"Please," she whispered, eyes still closed. "Show me what your world is like. If you don’t mind indulging me…" Her eyes opened then, reassuring herself th at he didn't feel compelled.

"I’d like nothing more," he purred. Her thighs clenched. No, there was no compulsion in his voice except to make her need .

He bent his head to her neck, murmuring, "What shall I do to you, my Queen?" Soft kisses fluttered her hot skin. "Where shall I start? Here…" he breathed into her ear, the tip of his tongue tracing a delicate path on the shell. "Or here?" His mouth sucked on her pulse as he lowered her dress from her shoulder. "Or perhaps…" Chuckling, his hand wandered up her inner thigh. "Is my Queen impatient? Should I taste you? Maybe I’m the one who’s impatient."

"Castien," she moaned. "Do… whatever… you want."

A quiet groan released over her shoulder. His hands ran up her legs, behind her back, cupping her ass, and yanking her to the edge of the seat.

She gasped as Castien dropped to his knees. No more gentle and slow movements now. His chair thumped away; neither of them noticed. She fell forward, her hands landing on his shoulders as he yanked up her dress and pried open her legs. Laughing breathlessly, Anais leaned back.

"What I want," Castien said between kisses on the inside of her thigh, "is to spread you open and take you. What I want…" More kisses. His fingers rubbed circles on her sensitive skin. Higher. "Is to bury myself in you, swallow your screams, and make you unable to walk without remembering every second we spent together."

He glanced up, his eyes burning. "Are there guards out here?"

Her insides clenched. "I don’t care."

"I do. No one else gets to hear you scream for me."

She moaned and lifted a leg, resting it on his back. "I’ll… mmm… be quiet. Please, Castien." If he didn’t to uch her soon, she’d go mad.

"Hm." A corner of his lips lifted slightly. Holding her eyes, he gently tugged aside her undergarments. The cool breeze made her very aware of her arousal, then warmth enveloped her core.

Oh, gods, the heat. His mouth was molten wet silk, his tongue soft as he dragged a path up her slit. Air left her lungs and she fought to take another breath.

"Quit squirming," he said in a low tone.

"Don’t talk… with your mouth full," she panted.

A soft growl answered her. His hands pressed down her thighs, keeping her still as he returned to his task with a vengeance. Nipping, licking, sucking, he drove her quickly to the edge - so impossibly fast. Her muscles tensed, her hands gripping the arms of her chair as her body hummed in anticipation. Gods, so close. Just another-

"Beg," he growled, his fantastic mouth separating from her aching flesh. "Beg for what you want, Anais. Beg for me, my sweet lady."

Was this punishment? Delight tickled the back of her mind as she moaned, "Please! Castien, I can’t… oh, gods, please, your mouth, I need- Oh! Ahh…"

Gasping, she barely held in a shriek of pleasure as he kissed her between the legs again, his tongue diving into her slit, circling her opening, tasting her nether lips. Then he sucked her clit and she whimpered. Exploded.

She hadn’t played an actually entertaining bedroom game since… ever. This release soothed more than the ache between her legs. She let go.

He didn't stop, though he slowed, leisurely tasting her until she caught her breath and relaxed her legs. Eventually, he lifted his head with a satisfied, very male expression while he massaged her thighs .

"More, please," she moaned, her hips writhing, her back arched.

"So needy," he purred.

Those eyes, that voice. He could do terrible, wonderful things to her.

"Later," he murmured. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and licked like a cat savoring cream.

This man on his knees had an intoxicating power over her that she should have found alarming.

She didn’t mind in the least.

"Stay with me." She didn't mean here and now. Suddenly, it was desperately important that he did not leave the palace—leave her. She smoothed her dress, straightened on the chair. "I know you want your freedom. I know you want to leave the palace. The deal we made—I’ll honor it, of course, but I’d rather you stay as an Escort." As hers.

She wanted to beg him. Even what she'd already said was too much. He trusted her, perhaps wanted her, but she couldn't expect more than that. No matter that she felt more alive with him than ever in her life, that she couldn't imagine feeling so deeply for anyone else. She wanted to beg him not to tear her heart from her chest and take it with him.

He didn't respond, the living darkness in his eyes stilled.

She forced herself to hold his gaze. "It’s not a command. I shouldn’t even be asking you. You’ve waited your entire life to be free, and you’ve barely known me a few weeks. I apologize—"

"Yes."

"Yes?" She breathed the word.

"I will stay. As long as you will have me."

Forever , she wanted to say, afraid it would make him run.

He rose to his feet and kissed her again, cupping the back of her head. There was something desperate in the way he held her, his fingers a little harder than comfortable. She pressed herself against him, their lips and tongues tangling until he relaxed.

"Stay tonight?" she breathed when their lips parted.

His mouth curved. "Perhaps tomorrow. You have an early morning, and what I want to do to you will take all night."

Her toes curled. "You’d have me wanting you all day long?"

His grin widened. "A pleasant thought to follow you through court, no?"

"Castien." She was not begging. Not quite.

"Does anyone else dare deny you?" His eyes laughed at her.

"My Escorts do it plenty," she countered, though she knew that's not what he meant.

"In here? In your bed?" he purred, sending a warm flutter between her thighs.

She bit her lip. "No."

"Then trust a courtesan to know his trade."

She growled, then sighed. "Go then. Before I rip your clothes off anyway."

He straightened, stepped back, and bowed with an elegant yet irreverent flourish. Pausing as he reached the stairs, he said, "Refrain from satisfying yourself. That’d ruin the fun." With one last grin, he fled her room.

That man was going to be the death of her. A delicious, slow, indulgent death as she begged him to—

She leaped to her feet and left those very unhelpful thoughts behind.