Page 35 of The Sun God’s Prize (Child of Scale and Fire #3)

I scowl down at the plate of food set in front of me, my appetite non-existent, even if I know I should eat to maintain my strength.

It’s kurrie , my favorite kind, the dark red sauce thick with cream, a mound of rice soaking up the spicy sauce, fragrant and flavorful.

I can already taste it just from the scent alone.

Someone giggles on my right, but I refuse to look. It’s probably Vae, seated next to Theille and likely still hand-feeding him from his plate. I’ve had enough of watching her select morsels of food to slide over his tongue, how he sucks her fingers, and stares at her with his childish lust.

She’s the only one who seems at ease, though.

When I do glance up, it’s to confirm that the other princesses continue to appear anxious, and I note the bruise forming on Costa’s shoulder, how Vishto’s lips look puffy, Fairmount’s eyes red from weeping.

They’re all skittish, too, jumping at the least sound.

Sheelan won’t look at me, her own gaze locked on her plate, though I note she pushes her food around and doesn’t take a single bite while only her brother and Vae appear to be enjoying the intimate dinner I was forced to bathe, dress, and be appropriately coiffed and dressed for.

The dark red gossamer does little to hide my body, two diamonds of fabric sewn into the cloth over my nipples and another across my crotch in the same design as the three princesses seated rigidly around me.

I don’t think they’ve been gifted with the ability to understand the language, though Vae clearly has, and it’s obvious none of them are comfortable on the cushions that serve as seats, or with eating with their hands.

But it’s more than that, signs of physical abuse about to be verified when Theille speaks.

“Suck me again,” he says to Vae. “Like you did earlier after I fucked the redhead.”

Vae pushes back and lowers her head immediately, the Sun God’s heir leaning back to allow her access.

Her hands are busy on the ties at his waist, exposing him to all of us, including his sister, who sits right next to him.

Sheelan’s face twists in disgust, and she heaves a sigh, but doesn’t outwardly protest, sipping from her cup while Vae’s lips circle Theille’s small penis.

There’s not much to him to work, so the princess has her job cut out for her, so much so that I’m amused by her enthusiasm and the way she throws herself into the act, moaning as though she’s the one with lips on her pussy.

Theille enjoys it enough that he comes just a minute into her thrusting and sucking, his high-pitched cry dying off.

But when Vae tries to sit up, he pushes her down again.

“Don’t stop,” he says, going back to his meal.

I catch her rage, the flare of it, hidden from him because of her position.

The other princesses watch out of the corners of their wide and terrified eyes as she resumes her activity, though she’s no longer moaning.

He’s clearly forced them all into sex they don’t want, probably more than once already. And is oblivious enough to miss the fact that they’re now fearful of him. Or doesn’t care.

Theille doesn’t seem to notice much of anything outside his own pleasure.

“I’m trying to eat,” Sheelan snaps at him.

“Then eat,” he growls back. “No one’s stopping you.”

His sister half-turns toward him, throwing down the cloth she draped over her lap when she began her meal. “What is the matter with you?” She shakes her head. “Mother would be ashamed of this arrogance you’ve adopted.”

“I killed our mother,” he grates at her through clenched teeth.

Sheelan catches her breath. “Theil le.” She reaches for him, but he slaps her hand away.

Then, far more violently, he shoves Vae off him, the princess crying out in surprise, her head impacting the stone table’s edge.

He stands, shaking and glaring at Sheelan, whose face has contorted into grief.

“When I’m Sun God, you will bow to me, sister,” he says, looking up, waving one arm to take us in.

“You all will! I will seize the magic your Overking stole and make you bow to me.” He’s clearly unaware that his flaccid little penis is still exposed, bouncing and flailing as he rages.

“I will rule the whole world!” Theille storms off, pushing the guards who try to follow him.

A chill crawls up my spine while Fairmount rushes to help Vae, all four Overkingdom princesses weeping, Sheelan staring at her plate in her own sorrow.

I’m far more practical, and perhaps the only one who’s realized the truth.

Yes, he's a teenager, overblown and prideful, pathetic. But he’s also the heir to the power of a massive kingdom, a kingdom on the edge of his control.

Aware of Neem’s magic, too, untouched by the erasure of the tainted power, and clearly determined to take it.

Which means his father is, too.

I’ve been so focused on the Overkingdom, on finishing what the dragon brought me here to do, I’ve forgotten what it is to be a battle princess, the daughter of a war queen. The bigger threat that exists outside what Gyster commands is the fact that he’s only in possession of Neem’s magic now.

What will happen if the Sun God tries to take it? Why else would his son and heir even use it as a threat?

I’ve lost touch with my upbringing, but I’m now reminded that there are more dangers out there than just the ones I fight here and now. And I’m realizing I need to be afraid of these people and their intent, as much as they make me sick.

For once, I’m hoping Hallick has a plan, because he is the monster I know, and I’d rather deal with him than the armies of the Sun God this far into enemy territory.

Does the dragon know? Suspect? I reach for her, but I know better than to expect an answer from her, the princesses scurrying away, leaving me alone with Sheelan.

But when I try to speak to her, the Sun God’s daughter rises abruptly and leaves.

Grim, I force myself to eat, fast and efficient, then return to my quarters to pace.

Should I approach Hallick? Surely, he knows of the threat.

It’s probably why he’s here. The dragon gave me the impression that he’s come to overtake this kingdom, though.

Is she wrong? Or am I afraid of something that’s simply a distraction?

I don’t know how big the Sun God’s army is, but I do know the Overkingdom relies far too much on the forces of Heald.

And while my people are mighty, our army is small, barely ten thousand in number, and no matter how hard Vivenne might try, she can only do so much with that number of fighters.

She is no Jhanette. Then again, even my mother would be hard-pressed to stand against a foreign army with so few to command.

We’ve never crossed that border to make war, not while I’ve been alive.

Peace has lulled me into complacency, trusting the knowledge and command of others.

Well, I no longer have that trust, nor anyone to grant it to.

My mother is dead and there are things unwinding beneath the surface that I must not ignore.

I think of Mother and the tales they tell of her here. I would love to know if the stand she took all those years ago is legend or truth, but I suppose it doesn’t matter now. She’s not here to fight, and there will be no standoff at a pass to hold the tide of war back from the Overkingdom.

I’m jumping at shadows without more information. For all I know, Hallick has already infiltrated and is influencing the Sun God and his heir with the stolen power. Theille’s threat could be simply that, the mewling complaint of a spoiled child.

There will be no rest tonight, regardless.

I simply can’t stop my anxiety long enough, even when I try to meditate, stripping to my skin in the humid night, sitting up in the middle of the bed with pillows piled around me, my breath refusing to settle, my mind the same.

There is one hope in all of this, but I can’t do anything about it unless Sheelan decides to trust me after all.

And I’ve already decided that it will be her choice, whatever the dragon wants. Whatever my mother would have done. I will not be that person who takes as a means to an end, no matter how justified the cause.

I will not make pawns of others as I have been made so many times before.

When she appears to me through the garden, I’m waiting for her.

She’s small and vulnerable, draped in a thin robe, her feet bare and jewels left behind.

It’s clear to me she’s struggled to sleep herself, that she’s come from her bed to speak to me.

More than that, though I’m no longer interested in seduction.

Manipulating Sheelan, while perhaps the smart thing, feels revolting, and I won’t do it.

The black-clad warrior is with her, but she pauses at the garden border and steps into shadow, giving us what modicum of privacy is available.

“This isn’t like him,” Sheelan tells me, voice low and sad as she paces my room, the first thing she speaks to me, no greeting between us.

The princess clutches her robe to her throat, anxiety driving her back and forth in front of me, bare feet slapping the tiles in her brisk stride.

She’s unbound her hair, the length swinging around her, as long as mine, falling to the back of her knees and tangling around her as she walks.

She stops with a frustrated sound and shoves it back away from her face, releasing the front of her robe.