Page 73 of The Chains You Defy

“Uhm, Thain. Why do I have to decide?”

“Because I asked you. And I know you spent quite some time partying after your turning of age.”

“That was winters ago.”

“Don’t be shy. So, what’s your pastime of choice?”

“Before you punch me—” Ireas appeared thoughtful, and I tucked the knowledge about him being no stranger to parties into the mental folder about the young medic, right next to the note I’d stored about him stealing from the royal storage without an ounce of bad conscience.

“Come on, Ireas, spit it out.” Dion slurred before drinking another gulp of the wine he was nursing.

I wouldn’t tell him, but he was rather cute, as inebriated as he already was.

Not that I was sober, far from it.

Sitting on his lap had also come with perks. After he’d emptied his first glass of Cintro, the prince had started toying with my hair, and by the time he’d finished the wine he’d switched to, he was downright petting my locks. Shivers ran down my spine, and contented hums spilled from my lips.

“Then let’s play Regicide.”

The fae all cheered, and the view of seeing them all drunk and letting loose was so surreal, I didn’t even ponder about the cutthroat name of the game. “What are the rules?”

“Each round, there’s a leader chosen.”

“Not chosen. At first, the monarch is elected, and after each round, everyone offers a sacrifice to the formerking. The one with the worst offering has to be the new sovereign.”

“Sacrifice?” Suspicion crept up into my mind that this game wasn’t just a harmless jest.

“Yes. The prize could be a secret, a service, or perhaps a piece of clothing, all as a thanks for the old monarch’s service.”

“So, it’s either about bearing body, soul, or indebting yourself? And why is the worst gift determining who’s the new ruler?”

Thain took over. “Because the monarch has to answer a question, truthfully, of course, or has to fulfill a task given by each of their subjects. Such a labor can be vetoed in favor of a new one, but only by the majority of the other subjects. Oh, and most importantly, before the start of each round, everyone has to drink a shot of schnapps to honor the new king.”

“And if you can’t or don’t want to do a task or answer the question, you’ll have to be the mission giver’s servant for a whole day as punishment.”

“Questions, tasks, and punishments.”

“Yes, Nayana.” Dion’s voice purred into my ear. “Nothingis off limits.”

“Except for Dion wielding magic.” A giggle pearled from Ireas’ lips. “Because he’s just too drunk.”

Ah, I’d already wondered when the prince would growl again. There we had it.

“Given we have only one real royal here, Dion should be the first monarch.” Alcohol had instilled a certain boldness in me, much to my own surprise.

Goosebumps broke out all over my skin as Dion shifted, and suddenly, he nipped at my nape in a fake warning.My muscles tensed, and I blushed as electric sensations surged through my blood.

His teasing bite only lasted for seconds, and he chuckled. “Don’t you think you’re getting away with being cheeky.”

My retort was drowned out by laughter before everyone discussed who should be the first sovereign.

With a clear majority, my suggestion got approved, and Dion became the elected monarch. We all raised a glass of schnapps to celebrate good fortune to the new king and his long reign, and then the game was on.

If I’d assumed we’d be easing into the fun, I would have been mistaken.

“So, Your Royal Majesty. Being a good ruler sometimes means forgiving one’s enemies. So, hug it out with Thain for an entire minute.” Antas’ eyes sparkled with devious delight, and although the idea amused me, I tensed.

Gods, this would get very ugly really fast.