Page 77 of The Chains You Defy

Well—ugh, that was nothing Nayana was ever allowed to find out. Even though she was intoxicated, she wouldn’t take the notion well that I’d been the culprit, not the servants, who hadmisplacedher underthings. And misplacing might be the wrong choice of word because I intentionally placed them. Into my pocket.

Until today, I still didn’t know why the boy had visited our suite, but there he’d been, catching me red-handed, and both of us had exchanged fierce warnings. He’dthreatened to tattle to her about me being a perverted thief—which I’d objected to the fiercest—and I’d promised to murder him. The following stare-down had ended with an impasse, and her underthings still in my possession—next to the other trinkets I was…safekeeping for her. So, everything considered, his offer to keep quiet sounded tempting, allowed him to live, and thus wouldn’t upset Nayana—neither about his death nor about her vanished underthings.

In the end, I picked my uncle. His proposition was shit—why should I want to be brought up to speed with Galantan court gossip?—and also, I was still angry with him about the forged letter he’d left for my grandfather in my name. Yes, I was a spiteful bastard with a grudge, what could I say?

Satisfied and with a successful reign under my belt, I nursed my glass as I held on tight to the tiny female on my lap. Anyone intending to separate us would have to pry her out of my cold, dead hands. She was mine, and I’d never let her go again.

As much as I attempted to gloss over the hard facts, I couldn’t deny the truth—I was wasted like possibly never before. The only consolation was that everyone else wasn’t faring any better, quite the contrary.

The only reason I wasn’t observing Ireas and Thain making out on the chaise across from me was because I was busy staring at Dion, who’d managed to procure a violin from gods-know-where, and had been glancing down at the instrument for at least a few minutes already.

His throat bobbed.

“What’s up, princeling?” My voice slurred like crazy. Luckily, Dion sounded just as drunk, plus no one paid usany attention.

“I…I haven’t played in three hundred forty-eight winters. I have no fucking clue if I still can.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“You know what? No. I’m inebriating—fuck, I mean indebting myself to you.”

Oh yes, Dion had been chosen monarch again, and playing an instrument had been my task for him.

I observed him setting the violin down and shaking his head, his jaw set tight. The cool indifference he donned like armor proved that he was locking himself off from everything and everyone, especially his own overwhelming emotions.

Just like that, the party was over.

In a way, it had been for quite a while, with Rewi having escorted Bryon out an hour ago, since he hadn’t dealt well with how Dion took every opportunity to touch me. Antas had excused himself shortly after, and Fig had vanished ten minutes prior.

Accounting for the fact that Thain was busy tugging off his tunic right this very moment, and Ireas was staring at him as if the redhead had hung the moon in the sky, that left only Dion and me. And the prince still glowered at the instrument, which must have somehow offended him.

My attention returned to the other two males. After he’d gotten rid of his top, Thain had repeated the action on Ireas, and both fae were bare-chested, lip-locked, and very sexy.

Although I was distracted by the erotic show right before my eyes—and I’d never even heard of two males being intimate with each other before I’d met my friends—I spent a minute admiring Ireas’ faeform.

Earlier, when he’d been monarch, and Rewi had tasked him to drop his Glamour and stand on display, I’d been very confused. If I hadn’t witnessed him change, I would have never believed that the male in front of me was the young medic.

Only after he’d explained that one facet of his magic was a unique talent to alter appearances, especially his own, did everything make sense.

To put reality in simple words—Ireas was gorgeous.

His brown hair, usually so messy, was cascading down his back in chocolate-colored curls—yes, not waves, but honest-to-the-gods curls—so shiny and full I couldn’t stop envying him.

But the marvel that was Ireas just started there. In his human Glamour, he barely appeared of age, but his true form definitely did. There was a certain feminine beauty in his features, his physique lean and lithe, with narrow hips and a slim waist—and, as I was learning now, a well-defined chest.

Instead of those chestnut-tinted eyes I was so used to, his irises were simply indescribable.“Opal,”Dion had huffed when I’d asked earlier, and I’d never heard of such a gemstone before.

Rewi’s description had been crude but weirdly fitting.“Looks like a rainbow threw up in your eyes,”she’d said, and yes, his soft gray orbs were speckled with flecks of every color of the spectrum, shifting and changing with the angle of the light.

I would have spent a long time observing the phenomenon if Dion hadn’t threatened to murder Ireas if I refused to stop staring at the medic. I’d glowered at the prince, and he’d slurred out his intention to gift me as many opals as I could imagine.

Jealous bastard.

Cocking my head, I inspected the many, many silver piercings decorating Ireas. His left eyebrow was adorned with three spheres above and below the gracefully arched line. A delicate stud sat right in the middle below his lower lip, and another one in his right nostril. Simple balls were running up both ears, getting smaller the higher up the pieces were located.

When he’d been under Rewi’s scrutiny, he’d admitted to the other parts where his body was bejeweled. For example, his tongue—as hard as imagining that was for me—or, as I could see in front of me at this very moment, studs in both of his nipples and one in his belly button. The ones I couldn’t spot, and despite my curiosity flaring to life, never would see, had taken Ireas some time to explain before he’d only mumbled about several bars underneath his manhood. The two of us had blushed heavily, and the others had teased him for being the only prude fae in both worlds.

Watching the two males making out felt less intrusive than peeping should, and I shamelessly kept my gaze on them—who could tell how long it would take until Dion yanked me away anyway? My own core heated as Thain pushed Ireas deeper into the chaise—for the first time, I could hear the redhead growl—and my lips must have been slightly opened.