Page 327 of Kingdoms of Night

I might not be able to say thank you, but I wrap my mouth around his shaft and show my appreciation in a way I know he likes.

“So, do I get to wear clothes now?” I ask when I have him sated and compliant.

Dryan rolls his eyes at me. “You’re growing too clever by a half. Yes, pet. Just don’t cover everything, hm? I like watching what’s mine.” He presses his lips to my cheek, and I attempt to hold on to my happiness, though it’s a struggle.

Every time his lips touch me anywhere, I’m reminded that this, what we have, isn’t real. It’s just a little bubble of sin. He might enjoy screwing his little “pet,” but I’m nothing more. Why else would he never actually kiss my mouth?

“Tomorrow will be the last night of the hunt, actually. Do you think you could have a dress by then?”

He wants me to have a dress? “What for?”

He runs his thumb across my lower lip. “The midwinter light festival. The plan is lot of drinks, a lot of dancing, and some public fucking. You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

“For…public fucking?” I repeat.

He chuckles. “The Hunt—a wild court unaffiliated with the high king—has always been a friend to my court. This year, I joined them to strengthen our bonds. They have a new queen, and many enemies. Their court will join mine at the celebration. I’ll have to participate. I’d prefer to do it with you.”

He’s saying that he’ll join them for all of that drinking and dancing and fucking no matter my answer, and I hate it. I don’t often let myself wonder how many women’s beds he hops into, or why he’s never there when I wake in the afternoon.

“Well, we’re kind of always publicly fucking,” I remind him, glancing at Iara and Castov, who are playing chess next to the dogs, though both keep an eye on us. On me.

His lips curve into a smile as he snorts. “Not like that, pet. Not like that.”

It doesn’t matter. I don’t want him to go with anyone else, so I agree.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

Ilook at the result of a day of frantic work draped on a mannequin, and despair. It's all wrong. I attempted to design a piece I would never have dared dream of back home—at my father's keep, that is. Something sinful, that would have made even Margaux blush. Something that might make me look like I belong next to a twisted, devastatingly handsome fairy king. I only succeeded in some of these things. I could never wear this dress in Saur. Even prostitutes cover their legs to their ankles and wouldn't dare walking around entirely sleeveless.

My skirt starts at the knees, with layers of sheer organza. Mid-thigh, they're covered in another layer of pale blush silk, gathered at the waist. The mauve top should be downright outrageous, dipping so low on the breasts and entirely sleeveless, yet no matter how many times I look, the result still seems to be made for a wedding. A highly blasphemous wedding, but a wedding nonetheless.

Too much chiffon, too much pink and champagne and purple. I should have used bright reds and black. But then I would look like Morag, and I'd rather go naked. Which is exactly what's going to happen now. I'm not going to embarrass myself and wear this. I'd look like a besotted fool.

"Stop fretting." I shoot Castov a death glare.

"Since when have those two words ever stopped anyone from fretting in the history of time?" I mutter, a bolt of green velvet in hand. Maybe if I cover the dress in it, it might be salvageable.

"The dress is fine," he insists.

"More than fine." Iara is a woman of a few words, so I pay attention when she speaks. Usually. But I know what my eyes see. "You have a gift. The ladies of all the courts will pay for your craft when they see it."

My mouth falls open. She's not just speaking, she'scomplimentingme. Gosh, I must look pathetic. "You're very kind."

She grimaces in distaste. " say nothing but the truth. Our kind cannot do otherwise."

I vaguely remember something of the sort from old fairy tales. "You really can't lie?"

She inclines her head. "Nature blessed the folk with many boons, from magic to eternal blood. Truthfulness is a small price to pay in exchange."

"You don't say." I pin the velvet on the mannequin, and frown. It clashes with the light chiffon; the design would look wonderful in green, but I'd have to use a darker color of chiffon, and I don't have enough time to redo everything from scratch. I don't know when exactly Dryan will come to get me, but it's the middle of the night.

I'm about to ask my guards how much time I have left, whenthe doors open. I know it’s Dryan before I turn.

“I have underestimated your speed, pet.” He eyes my dress, impressed. “And you undersold your skills. This is a fine gown.”

He tosses a bag aside as the hounds at his feet rush to greet me.

I pout as I ruffle their fur. “It’s all wrong. Is there anything else I could wear?” Desperately, I turn to Iara. “Could I borrow something of yours?”

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