Page 123 of Blood Day
I followed suit, noting his cultural influence on today’s coffee. I approved, Middle Eastern–style coffee having always been one of my favorites. It was more potent and stronger than my usual European-style blend.
The world might be different now with the regions and countries all renamed to meet our standards.
However, I still very much preferred the former cultures when defining something.
Lilith might have restructured the maps, but the history remained.
“So. How was Clemente Clan?” Khalid asked.
“Always cutting straight to the point, hmm?” I mused, setting my cup down with a smile. “What do you really want to know, Khalid?”
We’d known each other long enough to avoid the word games our kind often indulged in. If he wanted information I could share, then I would.
Besides, I suspected his question was merely a warning of some kind—a way to say, “I know what you’ve been up to,” without actually vocalizing it. He couldn’t give two fucks about Silvano’s antics. However, he was always watching, and he wanted to remind me of that by asking his very pointed question.
“Do you want to be a sovereign?” he asked.
“No. But Silvano isn’t giving me a choice.” It was a truth I wouldn’t typically reveal, but Khalid functioned as a walking lie detector. To tell him otherwise would just prolong a political discussion between us that could otherwise be wrapped up in a handful of sentences.
He nodded. “I thought not. It’s why you’ve been hiding here.”
“?‘Hiding’ is a stretch,” I replied, picking up my coffee again for another sip. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled. “Maybe I’m hiding, too.”
I snorted. “You’re always hiding in plain sight.”
“Touché,” he mused before finishing his cup. He drew his fingers through the hair of the servant kneeling between us. “Could you please let them know we’re ready for breakfast?”
Such a politely worded question for a royal to issue to a human.
But it summarized Khalid perfectly.
He was always bending rules and twisting them to suit his means. And he would purposely be kind to servants just to piss all over Lilith’s demand that we be cruel to those beneath us.
“Yes, My Prince,” the servant replied as she stood.
“Thank you,” he murmured, watching her leave. “They’re such docile little toys. It’s so rare to find one with a backbone nowadays.”
“Wasn’t that the point of breaking them all?” I asked.
He lifted a shoulder. “I suppose.” He considered the doorway for a moment before returning his focus to me. “Prospect Four Hundred and Seven. You’ve requested to keep her for the month.”
There wasn’t a question there, but I nodded anyway. “She needs more hands-on training.”
“Hmm.” He drummed his fingers on the table, his turquoise eyes blazing with knowledge. “What hands-on training do you intend to provide?”
“Sexual training. Servitude. Perhaps additional combat, but only for foreplay purposes.” Not a lie. I intended to instruct her on all those topics.
He studied me for another beat. “You fancy her.”
“She’s beautiful and skilled with her mouth.” I tried tosound as nonchalant as possible. “I would like to enjoy that while I can.”
The door opened again as two servers appeared with breakfast trays. They set them on the table and began to kneel. Khalid stopped them with a curtly stated “You’re dismissed.”
Interesting. Most royals would have told the servants to lie naked on the table to vary the meal between food and blood.
Silvano wouldn’t have even bothered with the food. He would have taken the petite female server, placed her on the table, and fucked her while drinking her dry.
