Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I went back to my own rooms at first light as usual to take a bath and get some breakfast, but my time with the Dark Prince is imprinted on my heart and I can’t stop thinking about it.
The memory of Xaren’s deep voice in my ear… the heat in his eyes when he looked at me…the slow, deliberate way his fingers touched me, teaching me what pleasure felt like. Not just for duty, but because I asked him to…because he wanted to.
I dry myself slowly, wrapping the towel tight as if it can keep my insides from unraveling. My stomach flutters every time I think of last night. Tanzy has laid out a pale blue gown threaded with silver for me with little blue slippers to match. I pull the outfit on without thinking, fingers fumbling over the tiny pearl buttons because my mind is elsewhere.
Breakfast is a quiet affair. A tray of soft cheeses, buttered bread, fresh fruit, and tea waits for me on the little table near the window. I take one bite—maybe two—before I hear the knock.
Three sharp raps—precise and impatient.
My heart jumps uneasily in my chest—I know what this is about.
A servant stands in the doorway when I open it, eyes cast down as if afraid to meet mine. She curtseys low.
“Her Majesty summons you to the Queen’s private library,” she says.
Of course she does. Well, it’s not like I didn’t expect this.
I force a smile I don’t feel and nod.
“Very well. Tell her I’ll come immediately.”
The servant turns and disappears down the hall, leaving me to walk the long corridor alone. My steps echo like accusations on the marble floor.
I can’t help thinking of the last time I was in her library—the way the whip fell on Xaren’s bare back and how his blood spattered the golden carpet and pale blue wallpaper. I wish I could forget it but the memory sticks in my mind like a poisoned thorn.
My mind won’t turn itself off. What if she finds some fault with me—some pretext for a whipping? I know in my head that Xaren took care of my maiden barrier last night, but my gut doesn’t seem to know it. Already I’m regretting the two bites of buttered toast I had for breakfast.
The guards standing outside the heavy oak door don’t speak. One of them pushes it open and gestures for me to enter.
Queen Virelda is seated near the hearth, her long fingers curled around a porcelain cup of tea. She doesn’t rise…doesn’t offer me any refreshment. Which makes sense—I don’t count as a person to her. I’m just a Royal womb.
“Come closer,” she snaps, when I linger in the doorway.
I obey. My stomach is in knots.
She looks me over with cold precision, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Finally, she speaks.
“Well? Are you pregnant yet?”
The question lands like a slap. I flush, but keep my voice calm.
“I slept in your son’s arms last night,” I say quietly. “And I no longer have my maiden barrier.”
Which is true—every word. Though it’s not exactly what she’s asking.
Her nose wrinkles in distaste, as though I’ve spoken of something foul by admitting to sleeping close with him. I have the feeling she dislikes her oldest son as much or more than she dislikes me and so she doesn’t like to hear of him having any kind of joy or contentment.
That’s a sick way to feel about your own son but as I have said before, I believe she has a dead heart.
“We’ll see if you’re telling the truth this time.” She waves a hand at one of the guards. “Fetch the Court Physician.”
A side door opens almost at once. Of course he’s already waiting. The old man shuffles in with his satchel of instruments and that look of detachment he always wears when performing these humiliating exams upon me.
“Lie down,” the Queen orders. “We’ll confirm your claim.”
My cheeks burn. I want to protest—to scream that I’m not a broodmare to be poked and examined. But I simply nod and do as I’m told, lying back on the velvet settee while the physician fumbles beneath my skirts.
As always, his fingers are like icicles—I can’t help comparing them with Xaren’s big, warm hands. But then, Xaren touched me with love—or if not love, then at least gentleness and with the intent to give me pleasure. The Court Physician has only one goal in mind—to make sure I’m no longer intact.
I grit my teeth and stare at the ceiling with its mural of flying dragons. I pretend I’m somewhere else.
Finally the old man finishes poking around inside me. When he’s finished, he withdraws and bows stiffly to the Queen as he wipes his fingers on a handkerchief.
“It is as you wished—the girl is no longer intact, Your Majesty.”
The Queen exhales through her nose, a satisfied little puff. She sets down her teacup with a clink.