Page 44 of Kingdom of Rot & Ruin
Easy.
“Z-Zephyr! I didn’t see you there!”
Clover dropped the basket of bread she was holding, sending the baguettes tumbling to the dirty floor. The last ritual I’d done for stealth must be working.
Or she was terrible at being self-aware. Or both?
“Come here. I want you,” I demanded, ripping thebasket out of her hands and wrapping my hands around her waist and neck.
She giggled against me, her bread and basket forgotten as her skirts hiked up her waist.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to use an actualbedone day,” she teased. “Everyone is working. No one is there.”
I tightened my grip on her. The servant’s beds were worse than the boys’ dormitory but dirtier. My hair would stay louse-free, thank you very much.
“Here is fine. Wouldn’t want people to get ideas,” I soothed back, dropping her a moment to flip up my own robe.
Ideas like I loved her. Because I didn’t. Love only led to upset when people went away.
She grabbed the scruff of my robe and pulled, oddly insistent. Usually she was meek and obedient. Though the change was unexpected (and therefore irritating), I was also intrigued. What was bringing out this new side? Aside from the queen, women were mostly small and shy, were they not?
“The other girls ask about you,” Clover breathed into my ear, causing the hairs on my arms to stand up straight. “I think they’re envious of me.” Her voice was a soft pant, hardening me further.
“And?” I purred, when it became apparent she was waiting for some type of response.
“The other girls want me to share you.” Her eyes flicked up at me, swimming with lust and need. “I don’t want to share you.”
A dark, delicious thought sparked.
“What if I want to be shared?” I nuzzled into her neck, hopefully letting the idea sink in for her.
She hesitated and I skimmed my teeth along the hollowof her neck. When her breathing hitched, I went in for the kill.
“You are astounding, my little Clover. Wouldn’t you want to prove to all these homely wenches just how desirable you are?”
Her hands tightened around my shoulders as she threw her head back, moaning.
“Yes,” she panted. “Yes!”
Her chest muffled my laugh, her breasts a soft pillow for my face. But what was one pair of breasts when I could get two? Or five?
“Go into the kitchen. Grab who you can, and meet me on the third floor under the painting of the half-burned knight.”
Her muscles stiffened. “What? We can’t just abandon the kitchen. The cook will–”
I let her go and moved quickly into the corridor, not giving her a chance to respond. She would either deliver . . . or not.
A thrill ran through my veins as I took the spiral steps two at a time, racing up and up and ignoring the burn in my legs. At the top of the opening to the third floor, I paused to catch my breath.
This floor housed Nobles from time to time, but specifically visiting Nobles. That meant all chambers were temporary, and they constantly had staff moving in and out, and that there were rooms that were ready to inhabit.
I’d steal one of those rooms for my afternoon of debauchery.
The first door I tried was locked.
The second door revealed a room that was stripped bare, no furnishing or covers on the bed.
The third one swung open. I wasn’t expecting it, and I practically fell in. The room was warm and inviting, coveredin furs. A fire roared in the hearth. Fruits and roast chicken were set out on the table, along with a selection of dark wines.
