Page 37 of Bonds of Hate

The harem betas quickly lose interest in me, returning to their own conversations. There are a few chaise lounges and chairs set around tea tables, but all the seats are occupied. The mismatched furniture that was here before must have been returned where it belonged. I’m left standing awkwardly by the door, with the distinct impression that I am not supposed to be here.

A familiar face approaches me, looking somehow even more harried than the last time I saw her.

“Maya, yes?” Perkins huffs, when she is still several yards away. “Hurry after me. I’ve just been told to bring you to the contract negotiation. No time to dawdle.”

“Contract negotiation?”

“Since you’re no longer under a lien with the Enclave,I’ll stand in as your representative.” Perkins stops short and stares at my dress for a beat. “Well, I’ll be. I assumed we would need to provide a wardrobe for you, but this is better than anything we have in the harem closet.” Shaking her head to clear it, she spins on her heel and gestures for me to follow her.“It looks like a custom Viladi?”

I sweep my skirt out of the way so the crystals don’t snag on a nearby chair. “It is.”

“No offense meant, but the dress you wore to the interview was obviously rented. How on earth did you get this one between yesterday and today?”

“Just good luck, I suppose.”

Josephine Viladi has been the go-to dress designer in Melilla for years. She designed every dress I ever wore to Enclave events, representing a good portion of the debt I accrued over the years. Showing up at her shop with a bag full of credits certainly helped, but I’d also gotten lucky. This dress had been a special-order, but the customer never returned after putting down their deposit. Viladi had been willing to do last-minute alterations if I didn’t expect a discount on someone else’s custom design.

From the moment I’d seen the shimmery confection pinned to a dress form in the window, I knew it was what I needed. I might have only been in the throne room for a few minutes before Logan ordered me away, but that was more than enough time to make the impression of an Omega worthy for a prince.

I can’t trust that whatever urges drove Logan to choose me won’t fade once the novelty of having me at his mercy inevitably wears off. Having a contract provides some protection, but I’m sure there are a hundred ways for himto weasel out of it if he that’s what he wants to do. If I want palace protections, then I have to figure out a way to stay here.

One of these princes will become king. Only the king can pardon someone for their crimes.

I push away the thoughts I have refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks. Eventually, the fragile walls I’ve erected are going to come down, but that day won’t be today.

If Perkins notices that I’ve gotten lost in my own thoughts, it doesn’t stop her from barreling forward with conversation as she leads me down a long hallway lined with closed doors. One is partly open and I peek inside to see a small windowless room, sparsely decorated with a neatly made twin bed and desk.

It looks more like a jail cell than anything else.

“Most of these rooms are bedrooms. Every girl in the harem has her own.” Perkins glances over her shoulder to make sure I’m still following. “I’ll give you a better tour later once I’ve found the time. Next month, maybe.”

It didn’t occur to me to consider the logistics of all this. “You’ve been that busy?”

“I don’t know what the king was thinking. You’re not the only Omega just dumped in the harem today with no instructions for what to do with her. This whole thing has been a nightmare. I haven’t slept since he made his pronouncement with all the preparations.”

I’m not stupid enough to trust someone I don’t know, but I get the impression that Perkins will be helpful if I stay on her good side. Playing the imperious Omega won’t get me very far with her.

So I decide to let a touch of my true opinion slip through.

“The royals get to do what they want, I suppose. They don’t have to think about the effect it has on everyone else. Everyone knows it isn’t the nobility who keeps the world running.”

“I know that’s the damn truth,” Perkins replies with a laugh. She cast me a sly look. “We’ll see if you feel the same way when you’ve got your own crown on your head.”

I place a solemn hand on my chest before winking at her. “From this point forward, you officially have permission to remind me of where I came from whenever you think it’s appropriate.”

“Imagine that, me giving the what for to a royal.” She claps her hands in genuine delight. “My mam would have been just tickled to see it, rest her soul.”

“Mine would snatch the crown right off my head if given half the chance.”

Perkins laughs so hard that her face turns bright red and her round belly sways from side to side with the force of her mirth. She has to pause in the middle of the hallway, bent over and wheezing.

I politely wait for her to catch her breath, privately wondering if I can even remember the last time I heard anyone laugh out loud like this.

God, that is bleak.

The laughter slowly fades as Perkins composes herself. She continues down the hallway, still chuckling.

Perkins pauses at a closed door. She looks back at me, a pensive expression on her face.

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