Page 11 of The Princess's Chosen

"I'm notreluctant. You know what the queen's line is supposed to be like. I assumed she'd be the same."

"All women are the same."

I rolled my eyes at that statement and wished Bry—Charlotte—anywoman for that matter, was with me to hear that idiocy.

"Not this one," Farraque muttered.

"Perhaps you're too much of a gentleman after all, Danny. Throw the girl down to the floor, put your cock in her and—"

"And then get it chopped off by the royal guard? No, thank you, Emory. She's not one of your whores."

"All women are the same," Emory growled.

My hands were ready to burst with flames, itching to grab my blade, to slit Emory's throat and then make quick work of Farraque before he could scurry away. Bryony was smart enough to see through as blatant a carrot dangling in front of her face as Farraque must've been, but that didn't mean he wouldn't get impatient.

Anger was interrupted by the sudden dig of the table into my stomach as the man across from me finally snapped, pushing the whore down and then rutting merrily on top of her with great groans and grunts. I grimaced, and the woman winced, forcing out enthusiastic squeals until he finally ceased.

"Oh, good work, Jimmy," she said, panting. "Very good work."

He stumbled away, barely holding his pants closed, and she sighed.

"Sure you don't want a turn? I'm still wet," she asked, blinking upside down at me.

"No, thank you," I said, winking back at her, jostling the table forward enough to slip out.

"Quit worrying about what Roderick has me doing and worry more about the fact that they caught that man you hired," Farraque grumbled.

"Pft. Martin will be easy, old piece of shit. Anyway, the rules of succession are a great deal simpler in our kingdom. I'll cut his crown off soon enough," Emory growled.

I punched my hands into my pockets and marched for the door. I'd heard enough for one night. Emory could come for my crown if he liked. He had the right. Just as when he did, I would have the right to slit his nasty little throat.

4

Bryony

“Where have youbeen?" I hissed, hands on my hips.

Daniel Farraque sat on his horse above me, windswept with bright cheeks, looking nicely like a hero from one of my novels. "I was in Rumsbrooke."

"On whose orders?"

"Your Highness, I apologize if I was absent when you needed me," Daniel murmured with a bow of his head before sliding out of his saddle.

I scoffed and shook my head. "I haven'tneededyou, and you can stop saying it like that," I said, stepping out of the way before Daniel got it in his head to lunge for me again. "Although if you're in the mood to be needed, my sister, Her Highness, has claimed three of the guards already. I'm not certain if she plans on keeping them, but I'm sure she'd be happy to add you to their number."

I watched with a wrathful kind of glee as Daniel's stare shifted nervously away from mine. It'd been a week since Grandmother and Camellia had stood on the palace steps and greeted me, and while I was growing comfortable with Grandmother's company—especially since she'd started to assist me and Wendell in our slough through the legislations we wanted to remedy—Camellia had made it her mission on the visit to be cumbersome.

When she wasn't seducing the single male staff, she was making erratic and elaborate requests of the kitchen. Two days ago she'd demanded a picnic which very quickly became an orgy, and she'd nearly dragged a married man into the mess of limbs by sheer demand of her magic.

I crossed my arms and stared at Daniel. "I knew it. Youarehiding from her. I assume it's because she's not yourassignedprincess?"

"She nearly killed an old schoolmate of mine," Daniel said, eyes flashing.

We weren't alone in the stable. I'd come out so that Owen might get to enjoy a little time outdoors again, and he glanced up from where he was crouched by the door, visiting with a few foxes who'd shown up not long before Daniel.

"One of her first Chosen. He was a favorite of hers, so much so that she fucked him nearly to death. Wouldn't let him eat unless it was from her cunt," Daniel snapped, and then his eyes widened and his face paled, body bowing and staying bent. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

I looked to Owen, hands clenching in my skirt, a painful mix of remembering Camellia's hands on him, and my own accidental overuse of the Hunger until his back was red and sore from the sun.

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