Page 96 of What Fury Brings
Her mouth rounded into the smallest O. He’d surprised her.
She stood still for so long he thought perhaps she might step forward to unchain him. His breath hitched as he waited for it.
She said, “You need your rest, Prince.”
And left.
Olerra locked the door between their rooms and pressed her hand to her chest. Her heart felt as though it might try to beat its way free. She wanted so desperately to take him up on his offer of intimacy. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted it more than anything except the throne.
But her mother’s death loomed between them. The threat of what he could do to her, what he could find out about her, was too much. She’d fled before doing something stupid, like releasing him from his chains.
Olerra stared at the box of phalluses and had the overwhelming urge to fling it across the room. What was it all for? What was the point? Did she really think he would be content strapped down for every sexual encounter they had? That it would be enough for him? That it would be enough forher? She was a fool. A fool for taking him. A fool for thinking this would work.
Grief swung out of nowhere, and Olerra was struck with the pain of missing her mother stronger than she’d felt it in years.
She barely remembered the woman, but she wanted her advice. Would she have been able to tell Olerra why she didn’t have the Goddess’s Gift? Did she know? Would she have protected her?
Olerra opened the kit. She was one phallus away from the one she needed to fit inside her. After tonight, she could be ready for him. But would she ever be able to have him?
She used oil to get the phallus inside her and went to bed without coming.
The next night, the last thing Olerra wanted to do was be in a room with her cousin.
Over a dozen guards followed Olerra and Andrastus to Glenaerys’swing of the palace. They were dressed in beautiful dresses or decorative pants, their hair done up in elaborate twisting braids. But each woman wore a sword at her side. They had all been invited to the party, and Olerra had personally requested that they escort her and her betrothed. She needed women she could trust surrounding them at all times.
Though Glen had thrown many parties for the sake of having a party, Olerra knew this one had some other purpose. She knew to suspectsomethingfrom Glen. She just didn’t know how deadly those plans would be.
But, gods, Olerra hoped Glen gave her a reason to smack her. Without legal repercussions.
Olerra’s guards entered the party in twos and threes ahead of them, in order to look less conspicuous. They had strict orders to always keep one eye on her and Andrastus.
The prince had been quiet this evening, not even complaining about the clothes she’d picked out for him. He wore a white shirt that sparkled in the light, faceted beads sewn throughout in a swirling design. His left arm was uncovered by the garment, as always, to show off the silver-and-onyx armband. The right side of his hair was braided away from his face so the matching onyx earring could be seen. His pants only reached down to his mid-calf to show off the anklet made of black diamonds. Sturdy sandals encased his feet.
She had a hard time keeping her eyes off him, but when they walked through the doors, into Glen’s domain, Olerra was instantly on alert.
“Damn,” Sanos said.
“Yes, Glen is known for sparing no expense.”
That was an understatement. The room resembled the inside of ajewelry box. One might think it would be the women who sparkled like gems, but it was the men, and none were so elegant as Glen’s harem. They wore headdresses dripping with opals. White diamonds pierced their nipples and ears. And in one man’s case, his tongue. Sanos saw it as he threw his head back to laugh. So much skin was on display, and tight clothing highlighted muscles and asses and front bulges. Sanos almost felt out of place in his simpler attire.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Olerra asked.
“Gods, yes.”
She returned with a sweet-smelling drink. It was crisp and tasted of apples and cherries. It burned slightly as it went down his throat. He noticed that her glass had a different-colored liquid within.
“What are you drinking?” he asked her.
She took a sip. “I prefer a strong ale to the sweeter mead. I thought you’d like the better-tasting of the two.”
Sanos downed his cup. “That was delicious, but I’ll take an ale, please.”
She grinned as she left to fetch him one.
The air filled with drums and stringed instruments. The room was split into two tiers. Women lounged on the bottom floor, sprawled on pillows, resting their drinks on low tables. The men, meanwhile, were mostly on the upper tier. There was a raised dais, and the men danced provocatively, thrusting hips and showing off their flexibility. It was hard for Sanos to watch them for too long, yet it was strangely informative.
When Olerra returned with his second drink, he pointed to the dancers. “Is that where I’m meant to be?”
