Page 1 of Joined By Magic

Chapter One

Talia

“Lineupforinspection.”

I smiled as my staff pulled themselves up from their seats. Twenty women were working tonight. We stood in the prep room next to the Private Hall—the special secluded dining room where nobles came to enjoy the girls of the Palace Collection.

“Mya, that lipstick is hideous, what were you thinking? Change it. Alice, your hair looks like you’ve already worked a full night. The rest of you look great. This is going to be a busy one, ladies, brace yourselves. You all get the day off tomorrow to recover.”

A chorus of groans greeted my words, but there was no malice in them. The girls preferred me to the old Collection head, Sotaris, even if some viewed me with a little jealousy. Most, though, were so terrified of Prince Adante they wouldn’t have swapped places with me for all the money in the territory.

Renelle raised a hand. “Do you think the prince’s brother will drop by?”

The question brought forth a cluster of giggles. I could see why. The prince’s bastard brother was a pure thoroughbred, different from the soft, paunchy nobles the girls usually had to service. They’d been speculating about him since his arrival.

“Maybe. Make sure you look your best, just in case.”

If all went well, he wouldn’t. He’d be dead.

A shiver ran through me at the thought, but I pressed it down and grinned at the girls. “I’ve got to run, the prince needs me this evening. Anita is in charge. Good luck. Off you go.”

They filed out, leaving me alone in the room. I took a deep breath and poured myself a glass of water, trying to ignore the trembling in my fingers.

Ten minutes to showtime.

I smoothed my hands over my dress and set off. The imported Alarian gown clung to my curves like a second skin and swept behind me in a small train. Its purple shade matched my glowing wristband, as did every item of clothing I possessed. The color of Prince Adante’s magic, it marked me as his personal property, a royal Favorite. People might whisper about me behind my back, but no one would dare disrespect me to my face. The prince had proven several times over that doing so had violent consequences.

Tonight would either cement my position for good or see everything I’d worked for destroyed.

I pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. It was busier than I’d ever seen it. Anyone with the slightest excuse to attend had crammed themselves in. Rumors about the prince’s brother had spread through the palace like a brushfire, whipping everyone into a frenzy, desperate to see him. Palace guards lined the walls, and I spotted five of the prince’s black-clad elite guards dotted about. I breathed in the scents of hundreds of bodies, perfume mingled with sweat, and my heart slammed against my chest.

Above me, the ceiling showed a projection of the night sky, constellations rippling out like jewels. The effect continued down the walls, with tiny captured beads of magic falling down to where the real log fires burned. The foreigners would have to be impressed. A religious backwater, their land had no magical tech at all.

The crowd shifted, parting like water, and the prince strode through. He caught my eye, and I cast my eyes down and bowed, as public protocol demanded. He swept past me without a word, taking up position near the door. From the stiff interaction, nobody would have guessed that one hour earlier, he’d been buried deep in my ass. We’d fucked with wild abandon, knowing it might be the last time. If the prince’s plan to seize the throne failed, he’d be dead before morning.

But if it succeeded, he’d be king.

At a nod from the prince, a liveried servant pulled open the door, admitting the Dexian party. The prince’s brother—the Lord Commander, as he called himself—strode at the front, his arrogant eyes flashing, and the rest of the group trailed after him. All non-mages. So strange. First, his woman, head down, wearing a stunning gown she looked uncomfortable in, and behind her . . .

Seriously? The big female guard walked stiffly, face furious, wrapped in a hideous dress that was seconds away from ripping like crepe paper. It stretched around her muscular form in the most unflattering way. Couldn’t they have found her something decent to wear?

I tailed them toward the military end of the hall and hovered at the side of the stage. The spectacle of public punishment always drew a crowd, and this punishment, for a fight between the female Dexian guard and a common soldier, was far more scandalous than usual. Everyone knew the Lord Commander had offered up his consort to take some of the guard’s allotted strikes. I couldn’t imagine why he’d do such a thing, but it’d provided the prince with a golden opportunity.

The military contingent went through their stupid ritual, thirty topless men taking one lash each. What was the point? Probably invented by some old general with a fetish. I watched the prince while the show played out, but his stoic expression never faltered.

The prince and his brother took the stage as the military men finished their weird punishment. Even in his drab outfit—a suit—the Lord Commander held himself with regal bearing. Together, the similarities between the two stood out. Only the age difference and the prince’s sharper features separated them. Hard to believe the hideous old king had produced such handsome sons.

The Lord Commander took hold of the offered cane, and once the poor guard woman in her ugly dress was secured, he struck. The woman yelped, but he was taking it easy on her. I’d had much worse from the prince. He made swift work of the punishment. Quick and businesslike—a chore he didn’t enjoy.

The guard went to sit with her group, and the Lord Commander’s woman stepped forward. She locked eyes with him, and something passed between them. A moment of anticipation. I held my breath.

He positioned her with gentle care, then stood back, pausing before making the first strike. She cried out but didn’t sound upset. My mouth twitched into a smile. Oh, they’d done this before. The prince and his brother must have more than just their looks in common.

Fifteen unhurried strikes later, the Lord Commander lowered the cane. The woman hung in her restraints, flushed and breathing hard. As the prince stepped toward her, a horrible twist of jealousy uncoiled in my stomach.

“She handled that very well indeed. She can manage five more. I’ll take a turn.”

All part of the plan. An act of aggression against an Ataran royal carried an instant death sentence.

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