Page 30 of Untouched Queen by Royal Command

‘I’m not on drugs.’ He’d never followed that road.

‘And yet you’re radiating barely concealed angst all over my calm. Are you having an existential crisis? You’d be surprised how many people invite me to tea and then proceed to come undone. As if I give a damn.’ Benedict was eyeing him speculatively. ‘Although for you I might show minor concern. I owe your sister a favour. She gave me my cousin back.’

‘Whatever debt you think you owe Moriana, leave me out of it.’ He didn’t need saving or fixing or whatever else Benedict thought he was doing. He just wanted a distraction from the woman in his birdcage who was messing with his head. The woman who this morning had put a tapestry illustrating one of his ancestors feasting in the round room on show in the main entry hall. The accompanying plaque named every nobleman in the picture, the names of every courtesan and the date. On a plinth beside the tapestry sat an open recipe book, written in a language of old. Beside it, she’d offered a printed translation of Feast Number Six for Midwinter Dining.

Augustus scowled afresh. Sera of the High Reaches was doing exactly what he’d told her to do and, what was more, she was doing it well.

‘No sexual identity crisis?’

What the hell was it with these questions lately? ‘I’m male. I’m straight. I sincerely don’t know what else to say to that question.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Benedict blithely. ‘But if that had been your problem I would have helped. I take my role seriously when it comes to being a guiding light for same sex relationships of the royal variety.’

‘You buried yourself in vice, became estranged from your family and then downplayed your most important romantic relationship for years.’

‘And now I’m back. Like I said: guiding light. I’m a veritable lighthouse.’

Augustus snorted.

‘Besides, there are other existential crises to be had,’ continued Benedict. ‘No unexpected desire to be tied, gagged and at someone’s mercy?’

‘No.’

‘Bootlicking, public sex, voyeurism…’

‘I worry about you occasionally,’ said Augustus.

‘I’m worried for you right now, in spite of my self-proclaimed indifference. It appears I’m getting soft.’

‘Worry about something else.’

‘I hear you have a courtesan in residence. Moriana thinks it’s wonderful. A revelation, rich in art, history and cultural significance. Which, while I embrace your sister’s enthusiasm for all things cultural, rather seems to be missing the point. You have a woman who has been trained to indulge your every sexual whim living in your birdcage. How’s that working out for you?’

Trust Benedict to get straight to the sexual point.

‘The Lady Sera has now retired from her former role as courtesan and has taken on an events management and PR position.’

Benedict had his head down and his hands in his pockets as they headed for the car that would take them on to future engagements, but at this he looked up. ‘No special services at all?’

‘She’s finding me a wife.’

When Benedict laughed, he did it body, heart and soul. He was laughing now, near bent double, and all Augustus could do was scowl.

‘That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had,’ offered Benedict when his amusement no longer threatened his ability to talk.

‘Thank you for your enduring support. Moriana’s helping her.’

‘Good heavens, you’re serious.’

‘When am I not?’

‘Says he who threatened Theo with a procession of elephants after he proposed to your sister.’

‘I reiterate—when am I not serious?’ Elephants too had been part of Arun’s lore of old. His courtesan could probably tell him all about them. ‘I need a wife in order to make the courtesan in the birdcage go away. I also need an heir and Arun could use a Queen. They seem like good enough reasons to make marrying a priority.’

‘I understand your need for a wife. I even understand your desire to canvass other royal opinions as part of your decision-making process. But why’s the courtesan helping you choose one?’

‘She’s not helping me choose, she’s simply helping to organise the parade of eligible women.’

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