Page 4 of Shadow of the Crown

He reaches for the buttons on his pants and starts flicking them open. Hell, he’s good at taking off his pants. But that’s probably expected. If half the rumors are true, the princes spend their time fucking their way through the four kingdoms. I’m sure they’re all more than apt at removing their pants.

Then, he pulls his pants down and my mouth goes dry. My gaze moves from his strong calves to his thighs that look made for squeezing a woman tight, up to his tight boxers, and I feel the horny rush inside of me getting to dangerous levels.

“Are you excited about the ball? It’s mating season!” No one calls it that. I’m not sure why I just did. “I mean, it’s time to find a mate. I’m so curious about how that goes. It must be exciting, though. A dance to find your wife. So romantic.” I look up at Prince Sulien, and he’s a god standing before me in nothing but his underwear.

And, oh fuck, I stop trying. I just stare at the bulge of his cock and let my gaze run over the outline. The sheersizeof the thing. No wonder there are so many rumors about him. He is, in fact, concealing a dangerous weapon in his pants, one I’d love to get my hands on.

He clears his throat, and I remember he’s here. That he can hear me. And see me… staring at his dick like it’s a new treat I desperately want to start licking.

“Do you mind?” He’s got that brow up again as he sweeps a hand toward the door. “Bathing me isn’t one of your duties.”

I feel my face heat up, and my pulse races. “You sure? I really don’t mind.”

Did that fucking just leave my mouth?If I wasn’t blushing before, my face is on fire now.

“I mean. The bath is ready, your Highness, so I’ll be on my way.” I bow and try to skitter out of the room.

But when I try to slip by, he grabs me and pulls me close to him. For one second, I think he’s going to take me up on my offer to bathe him, and I swear my body’s already wet and ready for him. But, instead, he whispers in my ear. “There are consequences for stealing, even things as small as food. Be careful.”

I hold my breath, waiting for his hands to release me, but it seems to take him an eternity before he does. An eternity where I wonder what he means. An eternity where I wonder if he’s about to turn me in, or wants my pocket food back. An eternity where I wonder whether I should beg him on my knees to forget this.

But then he steps away and heads toward the bath, like he’d never whispered anything at all to me. Like maybe it was all in my head.

Sweat rolling down my spine, I raced out of the room. I’m relieved he didn’t fire me from my position right then, but what if this meat in my apron loses me this job? What if I end up with nothing instead of the pennies I get now?

Damn it.

TWO

Cassia

My heart’s still racing by the time I escape into the kitchen, being cautious not to be knocked down by the servants who rush in and out with trays of food and drinks as I do. I slide around them and into my favorite nook in the corner, out of the way of everyone.

Then, I watch.

I love to watch instead of work. It’s one of my many negative qualities.

The kitchen is a sea of orange, because each of us is wearing uniforms in the Summer Courts’ colors, dark orange and light orange, although our uniforms are different based on our positions. The kitchen staff wears dark orange pants and shirts with a long light orange apron covering them. The wait staff wears light orange shirts with billowing sleeves, and short, dark orange dresses on top of them. Our uniforms are the ugliest, I think. We wear dark orange dresses, with light orange collars and sleeves, and a shorter light orange apron.

To think, I used to like the color orange.

Now? Not so much.

I relax a little, watching Cook as she works. She’s a flurry of movement as she adds ingredients to pots and prepares delectable meals for all the royalty staying in the palace. Winifred is my grandmother’s age, but you’d never know it by the agile way she moves. She has both the strength of a young person and the knowledge of someone older. She, no doubt, has some fae in her bloodline.

Someone passes by me with a tray of pastries. The scent of butter wafts from them, and my mouth begins to water. I stop myself from following the tray out of the kitchen and into the formal dining room by sheer will alone.

But just barely.Fuck. I’m hungry.

I lean against the counter beside my nook as my thoughts begin to shift from the kitchen and the food to what’s really bothering me. Running the confrontation I had with the prince through my mind once again, I feel my palms grow sweaty. I said and did so many things I shouldn’t have. It’s one thing to be an idiot in my daily life, but never with the fae.Especiallynot the royalty. Stealing from the fae could cost me my head if one of them is particularly pissed about it… I don’t even want to think about that. Speaking out of turn with the fae can easily cost me my job, which is the more likely outcome of my stupidity.

Damn it. I really need to learn to hold my tongue.

Far too often, words fly out of my mouth with no concern for the consequences. This time, however, the consequences of being such a fool might cost me everything, even if the prince doesn’t care enough to take my head. Imagining myself being thrown out of the palace makes my stomach turn. This would mean yet another Wither being tossed out. Only unlike my grandmother, I’d deserve it.

Winifred spots me in my nook. “On break or helping?”

I stiffen. “Not on break.”

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