Page 89 of Song of Her Siren

“You there!” Mother clutched a goblet of wine, her face draped in that perpetual scowl while she marched toward a hapless servant. “Where did the queen go?”

The servant backed up, nearly tripping over her own feet and dropping a platter of fruit. “To her rooms, Your Highness.”

Mother turned to us, her eyes flaring with aggravation. “She couldn’t even stay for her familiar’s reception?”

I snatched a goblet of wine from the buffet, mumbling between sips. “I’m sure she has her reasons.” The wine tasted as flat as the reception.

My breath hitched when a winged guard slipped into the room and headed straight for me, determination written in his furrowed brow. He stopped in front of me, bowing slightly before motioning toward the door behind him. “Princess Shirina, Queen Malvolia summons you.”

Mother rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “What does she want now?”

I set the nearly full wine goblet on the buffet and pushed past my mother. “I guess I’ll find out.”

Do you want us to go with you?Tari projected.

No, I answered.I can handle her.Besides, I didn’t want Tari anywhere near our aunt after their last altercation.

I walked past the girls, giving them a wink when they smiled up at me. Shoulders pressed together, they giggled and licked cherry filling off their fingers. Sharing an inside joke, no doubt. My heart ached when I thought of them ever becoming enemies, like Malvolia and my mother. I gave my family one last lingering look before following the guard out the door.

The guard left me at the entrance to my aunt’s bedchamber, shutting the door behind me. I was surprised to see no servants in her living quarters. When I spied the dirty dishes with untouched food piled on the buffet and clothes strewn about the floor, I realized the servants hadn’t been permitted in her suite for a long time.

I followed the sound of splashing water until I found Malvolia alone in her bathing chamber. She was in the same tub she’d used to kill the mage, Djall, boiling him alive with her magic. Bubbles spilled over the rim, and she had one leg kicked over the side while she nursed a goblet of wine. I had to force myself to shut my jaw when I spied a collection of glass and stone penises of all shapes and colors lining a shelf beside the tub. So she’d chosen masturbation over her virile male lovers? I wasn’t trying to judge her new lifestyle, but I’d rather my aunt keep a trio of young lovers than find pleasure alone. This wasn’t a sexual preference, but her attempt to isolate everyone from her life. I was honestly surprised she’d called for me.

I cleared my throat, struggling to find my voice while smoothing my hands down my skirts. “Aunt, you summoned me?”

She kept her vacant gaze focused on the wall in front of her rather than looking in my direction. “The refugees are in a holding area. My soldiers will summon you soon to test them for demons.”

“Thank you, Aunt,” I said, relieved she’d let them in while also feeling ten shades of selfish for forgetting about the refugees. At least she hadn’t. “My condolences on losing Mortimus.”

She set the goblet down and draped her arms over the side of the tub. “Thank you, Shirina.”

My gaze drifted to those penises again, especially the giant, double-headed purple one with the ridges that looked big enough to split open my womb. And then I saw a long, pale one with the letter H carved into it. It sat in a cradle shaped like a dragon’s paw, and I was very glad Tari hadn’t come with me. “Is that all?”

She continued to stare vacantly at that wall. “Yes.”

“The rest of the family is at the reception,” I blurted. “Should I tell them you’re not coming?” I don’t know why I was trying to continue our conversation. She obviously wanted to be alone, and I couldn’t deny my discomfort with her phallic toys in my direct line of vision.

“I’m sure they’re anxious to leave.” Malvolia clutched the side of the tub, her mouth twisted. “No doubt Flora is complaining the loudest. She’ll take any chance to twist that blade in my heart.”

“Well,” I said, doing my best to keep the censure from my voice while wondering why I needed to defend my mother, “you’re not there.”

She grabbed her wine goblet again, downing several swallows before letting out a very un-queen-like belch. “I prefer to mourn Mortimus alone.”

I took a step back. “Of course.” I had to get out of there. Those three, thick bronzed toys on the end looked just like they belonged to my mates. It was probably a coincidence. No doubt, many Ravini males had similar anatomy.

I was just about to excuse myself when she asked, “Has your mother apologized yet?”

I arched a brow. “For?”

Malvolia finally looked at me. Her eyes were bloodshot, from crying, imbibing, or both. “For the way she’s treated you.”

Not knowing what to do with my hands, I folded them in front of me. “No.” I regretted telling her that my mother thought I’d turn evil.

“And she won’t unless you force her.” Malvolia set down the goblet and leaned back in her tub with a groan. “Flora doesn’t like admitting her mistakes.”

Wow. How could someone be so ignorant to their own flaws?

“And what about you? Will you admit when you’ve made a mistake?”

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