Page 59 of To Bleed A Kingdom

Dark, earthy colors greet my eyes. Smooth oak wood walls blend seamlessly withsegments of molded honeycomb and copper latimer panels. A suitable accompaniment to the Gods Light sputtering from the decorative copper sconces interspersed throughout the dining room. The rollicking flames cast the room in a warm, ambient light, along with the glow of the moons beaming through the floor-to-ceiling arched windows. Fortunately for this room, as well as all the chambers and meeting rooms throughout the palace, they’re now composed of only wood. Not a crystal in sight. I can only imagine that before the renovation, it was quite frustrating for my forefathers to be blinded by a rainbow of colors reflecting off their fork while trying to eat. Or to have to squint from the metallic sheen while speaking to a visiting royal.

Fresh rolls, cheese, bottles of wine, and a decanter of spirits are arranged in the center of a long, maple wood table along with a lavish bouquet of peonies, sweet peas, and lilies. Six place settings are laid out on a table that seats twelve, but only one seat is currently occupied.

All but for the messy topknot and a streak of soot on the back of her neck, Aurora is almost unrecognizable, dressed in a fitted red gown and ruby studded heels while she nibbles on a piece of cheese.

“I see that you changed,” I say. Dragging the highback chair out, I seat myself beside her.

She eyes me up and down. Seemingly unimpressed, she reaches for a roll. “And I see that you didn't.”

“I doubt our attire will make any of this less torturous.” Reaching for the decanter of spirits, I pluck the glass top off with a pop, inhale the smooth, oaky scent of the whiskey, and pour myself a generous portion. I’ll more than need it within my mother’s presence.

Aurora groans and slumps in her chair, cradling a glass of red wine. “Don't crush my dreams! I put on a dress, for god's sake.”

“And you look beautiful,” I state honestly, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey and relishing the feel of the smooth liquid gliding across my tongue.

“I look ridiculous.” She toys with the thin straps of her dress, squirming.

“Only because you missed a few spots,” I reply, tickling the back of her neck. She bats my hand away and reaches for a cloth, wiping vigorously at the back of her neck.“You could’ve tried to comb your hair,” I add, spotting the knots and tangles rolled in a ball on the top of her head. “It looks like a bird's nest.”

“I'm only willing to do so much,” she huffs. Smoothing her hand through her hair, she attempts to tame the untamable before burying her nose into her glass.

Spotting a small patch of smooth hair near her forehead, I smirk. “You couldn't get the brush through your hair, could you?”

“No.” She snorts, fogging the glass in which her nose is still buried. “And I couldn't find my lady in waiting.”

“Who is your lady in waiting?”

“I have no idea! I haven't used one in so long, I don't even think I have one anymore.” She laughs before her face twists into a scowl, and she squirms in her seat once again.

“Stop wiggling. You look like a worm,” I chastise.

“But it's so uncomfortable,” she whines, her squirming becoming more pronounced. “I can't bind my breasts with this dress, otherwise you'd see them.” She slaps her hands to her breasts and bounces them shamelessly. “They're just jiggling away. Free as a bird.”

“I really didn't need to know that,” I grumble.

“Don't be such a child.” She rolls her eyes. “They’re just tits, not a disease. With the way you were leering at Lena’s today, I know you're quite fond of that particular body part.” Tonguing her cheek, she glances down where she palms herself, raising her breasts up and down in a seesaw motion.

Ignoring the Lena comment, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That doesn’t mean I want to hear about your tits. And don't talk like that,” I admonish. “You sound like a street rat.”

“You look like a street rat,” she quips pettily.

“I look like someone who went to work today.”

“You obviously didn't work all day or you wouldn't have been at my shop,” she murmurs snarkily as she lifts her glass. But then her hand stills halfway to her mouth, regarding me as if she just remembered something. “You never did tell me why you came by today. Was it just an excuse to drool over Lena, or was there an actual reason?”

Shit.

After the Lena fiasco, it completely slipped my mind to warn Aurora about the Jareth incident. She wouldn’t care either way. She hates Jareth and his sister just as much as I do, but we both love Theon, and know this'll cause more strife in his life than he deserves.

“Where is he!?”

“That's why.” Resigned, I spin my chair to face the door and knock back the rest of my whiskey, waiting for the shitshow from which there's no escape.

Aurora perks up in her seat, her impish eyes sparkling. “This should be entertaining.”

I give her a dry look and she giggles shamelessly as she hops her chair around until she faces the door the same as I am. She manages to cross her legs and rearrange her dress over her knees right before my brother's wife slams the door wide open.

Lips puckered and chest heaving, Kiora’s feral eyes rapidly scan the room. As soon as they land on me, her face twists into rage. “You son of a bitch!”

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