Page 113 of Settle Down, Princess

The crowd tittered slightly, only mildly amused by such an outrageous idea. By their response, it was obviously something they had seen more than once.

“Then I’ll escort her to the temple—” the priestess said.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Magnus announced.

“A separate room then, for your queen’s privacy,” she replied.

“Seeing as he’s going to plough her like a bull the moment you confirm she’s still got a hymen, that’s probably not needed.” A woman stepped forward, her eyes sliding down my body as she smiled to herself. A single eyebrow rose when her gaze locked with mine. She was clearly amused by all of this, but most of all me. Her lips twisted into a cruel smirk. “Let's get this over and done with so I might comfort my lord king for having to endure such an experience.”

I wasn’t jealous when she crossed the floor to tangle her fingers in Magnus’ hair, but I was supposed to be. She was like a dog on a leash, pissing on a post to make clear it was hers. The king leaned into her caress, the two of them moving closer and closer, until I jerked my eyes away rather than watch them kiss. It didn’t dispel the attention I was getting, though, each person’s interest piqued. They took in my stance, my stature, my clothing, and my complexion, but most of all, they sought evidence of my response, noting the clench of my fists with little smiles. I forced my fingers to release, then approached the priestess.

“What must I do for this inspection, Holy Mother?” I asked.

“Selene.” She offered her hand to me, and I blinked, then shook it. “Sister Selene and I think the easiest way is to get up on the bed.”

Easiest. We were negotiating the best way for me to bare my nether regions to the entire Kheanian court, to allow them to gaze upon my most intimate flesh and judge for themselves whether I met their standard for purity. I cursed my stupidity, over and over, as I walked over to the bed.

Chapter 65

Silas

“Your princess will be in the city within the hour,” my father informed me.

We’d arrived in the capital with little fanfare, riding each set of horses until their legs were about to give out from under them before swapping them for another lot to do the same all over again. We went straight to my father’s headquarters and delivered the news. The plan we’d all been preparing for, putting Arik on the throne, was now in play.

Father looked me up and down, cataloguing all my little tells that made clear my mind wasn’t as focused as it needed to be.

“You’re worried about this girl?”

“Considering every other princess died at the king’s hands,” I replied crisply, “I think I can be forgiven for that.”

“You weren’t a nervous wreck when the last one died, and she was a pretty little thing. What was her name?”

He knew as well as I did that it was Princess Tiana, but that wasn’t the point of this conversation. My father watched me closely, noting every involuntary reaction.

“You know what her name was,” I shot back. “And all the other princesses.”

“And so does your prince.” His lips pressed together. “Why the sudden change of heart? What’s so special about this one?”

This is where I drew comparisons between Jessalyn and my mother, wasn’t it? Where his undying love for the woman that bore me and my sister was used to help him to understand. Of course, that wasn’t the case. He hadn’t loved my mother. She was merely the sister of a powerful member of The Guild that he wanted to forge an alliance with, and we were the means to do that. Once Mother gave him twins, she withdrew back to her own people with barely a look over her shoulder. The only time we heard from her was when her faction used her as a spokesperson to negotiate a deal.

“She’s special to Arik, that’s all you need know,” I told him, despite knowing that would never be enough detail for my father. He’d have her height, weight, and relevant life history in a file on his desk before the day was done.

If he hadn’t already taken care of that.

“Special to you too.” Father looked me over coolly. “I guess it would have to be that way. This whole pack thing—”

“Is what welds the four of us together. You told me to get close to the prince.”

“To inform me of his movements. So I might use you to direct him onto the right path, and when he took the throne, to be clear about who was the one that put him there.”

“He’ll still be aware of that.” I met my father’s gaze without flinching because that’s what he’d taught me. I could tug my forelock with the best of them, be a picture of servility, but underneath it, this remained. I was still the son of the Raven of Khean, and while nobles might gain or lose titles, no one could ever take that from me. “You’ll make sure of it.”

His mobile face split into a grin as he clapped a hand on my shoulder.

“That I will, lad. That I will. So, this pack bond… Does that mean all of you are considered equal? Because I think that could prove advantageous. Arik will take the crown, but you—”

“Let's not count our chickens before they’ve hatched,” I said. “If Jessalyn doesn’t survive—”

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