Page 75 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

~ DIADRE ~

I stared at myself in the mirror, despising what I saw.

If only I’d been given this outfit in a different circumstance…

but I wasn’t. This was the armor of this assignment.

My weapon for this world. I had to remind myself of that—but not think on it too deeply.

Because thoughts of looking like this in this city chilled my blood.

Jann had tasked Caelan with dressing me appropriately.

And the woman had done her work. I turned my head and touched the three-strand silver choker at my throat.

A leather strap cupped the back of my neck, with the topmost strand of the silver chain flush with my skin, keeping it comfortably in place, then two more strands falling in longer loops below it.

A matching black leather bodice kept my breasts pressed round and high to frame the longest chain with its single, perfectly circular ring-medallion that rested above my cleavage.

From the base of the bodice lustrous silk panels in a cold blue that was almost silver fell to my calves.

But the panels were strapped firmly at ribs, waist, and below my hips, keeping the silk hugging my curves.

More chains draped from my hips, mirroring the three at my throat, though the longest of the three was weighted by an odd silver hook, rather than a ring.

Leather sandals with straps wrapping my legs to the calf, completed the ensemble, and taken from the front, it was suggestive, even provocative.

But I was covered. Until I turned and it was revealed that the panels weren’t wide enough to wrap me, so a stretch of skin several inches wide was left bare from my ribs, all the way to my feet. No underthings—there was no room.

When I walked, the front panel fluttered between my legs, covering anything obscene, but only emphasizing the naked skin left at my sides and legs.

It was the most immodest thing I’d ever worn, and it would be my uniform before the Nephilim.

Blowing out a breath, I met Jann’s eyes in the mirror. He stood behind me, staring, and as torn within as I was.

He hungered for me. I felt that in the bond.

And he was afraid.

And fiercely protective. Possessive.

A feral rage bubbled in him seeing me dressed like this. I felt the tension he carried as he anticipated my presence under the eyes of other Neph…

I touched the chain choker, stroking it. I had called the metal silver, but it was incredibly fine and seemed lighter than the silverwork our finest jewelers created in Theynor. When I pinched the longest chain and ran it between my fingers, Jann cleared his throat.

“Be careful with that.”

I turned to face him, frowning. “Why? Is it valuable?”

He huffed, then hooked one calloused finger in that silver circle on the lowest chain, pulling it—to my shock, the chain pulled through its links at the leather and suddenly the other two chains tightened at my throat and I stumbled a step closer to him.

He caught me, a low rumble in his chest as he released the chain and it went slack again.

I blinked as Jann readjusted it so the three chains were returned to their pretty, cascading necklaces, his face grim.

He looked like he was about to speak when Caelan piped up from behind him.

“She needs your seal.”

Jann nodded, his eyes locking with mine before his voice rose in my head. ‘This is a tool to a fiend, but between us it will only ever be for show.’

I nodded and swallowed, the light pressure of the shortest chain suddenly no longer seeming so benign.

Caelan hurried to a set of drawers at the side of the room.

Jann’s room, which she clearly knew intimately —

I pushed the thought away.

Jann never took his eyes from me until Caelan trotted back to his side and opened her hand to reveal a wide medallion, almost as large as her palm, rimmed in flat silver with strange symbols carved intricately around it, and an amber stone at its center, etched with jagged wings.

Jann showed it to me and I frowned. “What is it?”

“The seal of my house and bloodline,” he said darkly, then reached for that hook on the lowest of the chains draping from my hips, and clipped the medallion to it.

The weight was significant, tightening the leather strap that looped my lower back and held the chains, dragging them down so that the medallion rested at the apex of my thighs.

Jann stroked it once and rumbled again.

The roiling in him was hard to define, too many conflicting emotions.

“What do the symbols mean?” I asked him quietly.

His eyes lifted to meet mine. “Our ancient text. It reads, No one else shall enter.”

He didn’t look away, measuring my response. I breathed deeply to control the thread of fear that wanted to tighten in my chest.

Jann’s expression was somber. “You can still change your mind. I don’t want to put you through this—”

“No. No. I need to be close to you so I can get you out if they turn on you.”

Jann’s jaw flexed. “Then… are you ready?”

I closed my eyes and tipped forward to rest my head on his chest, grateful when his strong arms wrapped around to hold me.

Neither of us spoke for several breaths. Then…

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m ready.”

*****

The moment we stepped out of Jann’s apartment and into the wide corridor of the Palace, all eyes followed us. I tried not to gape at the stunning beauty of this place.

The palace was sized for its inhabitants, the corridor as wide as a dining room in Theynor, allowing multiple Nephilim to walk abreast and still leave space for human servants to scuttle past them.

Though it was night, there was a battery of servants in these halls—male and female, which surprised me.

Young, green-eyed Neph who lacked the bulk of men like Jann and Melek, human women wearing everything from clothing even more scandalous than mine, to livery.

And many more clearly human forms in robes that swam around their ankles and disguised their bodies so you couldn’t know if they were male or female at all since every human form was dwarfed by the hulking Nephilim.

The stone floor was carpeted at the center in a rich red with more of those symbols woven into the edges in gold.

Tapestries and massive paintings hung at intervals between doors, and alcoves housing carved marble busts or side tables the size of buffets displaying flower arrangements of Nephilim proportions.

There was a sheen of luxury and refinement here I hadn’t expected. Which was when I realized why there’d been a niggle in the back of my mind about Jann.

I’d been so self-conscious and preoccupied with my own clothing, I hadn’t really paid attention when he bathed and dressed. Now, as we walked the hallway and I looked everywhere, my gaze landed on him and jerked to a halt.

He was wearing a shirt. And trousers. And a jacket.

Not the uniform or weapons clothing to which I was so accustomed.

But a black, velvet jacket with silver embroidery—more of those strange symbols and text embroidered down the flat lapels and continuing down the hem.

The white shirt had a molded, high collar, but rather than folding for a cravat, the fabric had been starched to stand tall against the sides of his neck, then open to a short, wide V that revealed the warm, brown skin at his throat.

The shirt was flat-fronted, a tunic that fell almost as long as the jacket that swooped down to hang below his ass at the back and mid-thigh on the sides. His breeches were a sturdy, buff material that moved with his body and tucked into shining black boots.

He looked… refined. He looked noble.

“When did you—”

But Jann, who hadn’t met my eyes, prowled down the corridor with his chin high and that cocky, insolent smile he’d thrown around in Theynor. As if he hadn’t heard me, he chucked his chin once, then raised his voice to call at someone further down the hallway.

“Well, fuck me sideways. The Halfling is back,” the Neph called in return.

I wanted to roll my eyes—it appeared the refinement of the Neph here didn’t extend to language.

I didn’t have to pretend my distaste as Jann clamped a hand to my wrist and dragged me to the left to meet the male walking in the other direction. The two clasped arms, though not as warmly as Jann had with Karyd the day before.

“When did you return?” the male asked, clearly surprised to see him.

Jann grinned. “Just this evening. But I can’t stop—I’ve heard there’s a hunt.”

The other male growled. “Lucky bastard. They aren’t letting the rank and file in on those yet.” Then his brows rose as he scanned down to look at me. “Though it seems perhaps you have less reason to make the chase?” he said, his voice a low, suggestive purr.

It was a relief when Jann growled and tugged me closer.

The male’s eyes sharpened, but he lowered his chin, though he didn’t avert his eyes from Jann’s furious gaze.

“The hunt begins in the King’s garden,” he said, eyes glinting and jaw tight, “I heard the men were gathering on the ballroom balcony. But I should warn you, the King may not be as pleased to see you as I am. He’s warned all of us to have caution for anyone who was loyal to Melek. ”

“Good thing I’m not allied to that green-eyed fuck then, isn’t it?” Jann muttered.

The man’s expression was skeptical. “You two were thick as thieves—”

“Until he lost his nerve at the Shadows of Shade, then attempted to claim my mate when I brought him through. My loyalty only extends so far.”

The man’s brows rose, but Jann only thanked him for the directions and jerked me forward to trot at his side as he strode down the corridor, glaring at anyone whose eyes settled on me.

‘Don’t worry, he’s nobody,’ he sent before I’d even asked. ‘The Nephilim of account will be with the King, whether they plan to pursue women or not. Which is why we need to get there.’

‘But surely Gall isn’t going to be—’