Page 89 of The Forbidden Dragon King
Treason.
This asshole doesn’t need to tell me that it won’t be a slap on the wrist type of crime in Bael.
The man opens his mouth with a sadistic gleam in his eyes but before he can launch into the no doubt painful and vivid description, I wave my hand at him, as if shocked.
“Hey, careful how you throw around accusations, knotless.” I raise my chin, proudly tapping my brooch, hoping that this works. “I’m Aurelius’ personal pet. He told me to wait for him here. Are you trying to frighten me into disobeying the King’s own order? What’s your name again?””
I’m not above pulling rank.
Survival is what matters.
The Beta servant pales in a satisfying way, as his gaze fixes on the brooch. “Y-you’re t-that p-p-pet? Sorry. You truly mustn’t disobey. I’m nobody, really, nobody. No hard feelings, huh? Just one servant looking out for another.”
“Yeah,” I give him my scary smile that always worked back in Fang Kingdom, when I wanted to freak out the other servants, “looking out for each other.”
The servant gives an awkward, nervous chuckle, before ducking his head and rushing off down the corridor.
Hopefully, rumors will soon start about the badass personal pet, who the other servants shouldn’t mess with.
I pull back from the door, wishing that I could hear what was going on inside, almost as much as I wish that I knew what was happening to Daire in the dungeons.
When I visit, Daire can’t hide the bruises. But he’s a genius at hiding everything else.
Daire takes reckless risks, suffering beatings and worse. He only appears to care if I’m the one risking myself, or his featherglass are the ones in trouble. Even in captivity, he’s able to plot to protect his fae brothers and sisters as they settle into their new duties as mercenaries.
Deep inside, I can’t help the kernel of doubt that Daire is only serving me, as he is Aurelius, because of our deal.
Does he truly love me?
Or is he playing me, as trickster fae play everyone?
I sigh, wandering to the only window in the entirehallway, which is next to a sunken alcove. It is a tiny circular spyhole out onto a large courtyard at the back of the Shadow Military Academy.
Actually, I bet that this courtyard is the parade ground.
The parade ground is empty; the cadets must be inside the academy. The courtyard is cold and barren, apart from a tall wooden post that is erected in the center, which casts a long shadow.
Confused, I notice the iron shackles that are attached to the top of the post.
Then my mouth dries.
Shit, it’s the whipping post.
Is that why Maximinus has a window here to look out and watch?
Sick Alphahole.
I back away from the window.
A young Beta housekeeper with pearl colored eyes, who is carrying a stack of fresh blankets, casts me a curious look as she passes.
I ignore her.
Even for me with my long list of impulsive plans, venturing into Maximinus’ wing of the palace is risky.
I take one last look at the study door.
I’m not in the mood to come face to face with a pet-hater who gets off on spying on whippings and creating magical nightmares this morning.
