“It’s much prettier from down here,” she said, her voice soft with wonder as her gaze roved over the garden. “Please, may I have a room on the lower floor? Something with access to the garden?”
“Not until you’ve proven I can trust you.”
It was easier to keep her tone light now, with the garden seducing her. “What, you mean destroying my room and threatening to kill you doesn’t paint me as a trustworthy prisoner?”
Jude snorted.
“Was there any truth to Malac’s promises? Will I ever be given clothes? Permission to use my own bedroom door?”
His smile died. “I don’t want to lie to you, Maari. You’re never going to have the run of the palace. I assume you can understand why, now.”
“Because I’m your whore, and your wife hates me.” Just saying the words out loud brought back a taste of the anger and despair that had overtaken her an hour ago, spoiling her time in the garden. Tainting the beautiful, warm afternoon.
“You’re a concubine, not a whore,” he insisted.
“That just means you don’t bother to pay me.”
Jude turned her to face him, his grip on her arms bruising. Anger churning behind his ice-blue eyes. “If you think I’m not paying for having you here, then you are nowhere near as smart as I gave you credit for.”
“I hope you’re paying through the nose,” she spat, his temper sparking her own. “I hope she hates you as much as she hates me. As much as I hate you.”
Jude let her go, and Maari sank onto a bench positioned in front of the cluster of whimsical shrub animals, though her stare refused to focus on them.
“Hate me if you want,” he said. “That doesn’t change my obligation, nor does it change yours.”
“Why me?” She sucked in a deep breath, trying to tamp down her anger before it got her in trouble again. “If this is just an obligation to you, why did you ask for me? Why not just take whichever of my handmaids the council intended to give you?”
“Because I wanted you.” He shrugged as he sank onto the bench next to her, as if it could really be that simple. As if one man’s desire should be enough to ruin a woman’s life. To steal her future.
“And what a king wants, a king takes?”
“As long as he has the strength to defend the taking.”
“I thought I could survive this.” She held his gaze as she whispered her confession. “I thought I could just bide my time and let you all take what you wanted from me, and that it would all be worth it because eventually I’d get my chance.”
“To kill me?” This time, Jude didn’t look amused. She couldn’t read any emotion in him at all.
Maari nodded. “But then I realized, belatedly, that you have a family. Children. If I’d been thinking clearly, I probably would have come to that conclusion a lot earlier. But you try thinking straight when you’re locked in one room for days at a time, never knowing when someone’s going to come through that door and shove something inside you. Or who that someone might be.”
Jude tilted his head, brows arched. “You feel you’re being mistreated?”
“Of course I’m being mistreated!”
“I understand that your time in the darkcell was difficult, but you brought that on yourself. Punishment isn’t mistreatment; it’s a deterrent, and until today, that punishment seemed to be having the desired effect.”
“Let’s agree to disagree about that.” Maari squinted into the setting suns.
“Outside of that punishment, have you been denied food, water, or shelter? Have you been subjected to unhealthy temperatures or to injury? Have you been isolated for long periods of time?”
“Well, no, but I’m not allowed to leave, and you and your brothers keep coming in and—”
“Those are the conditions you agreed to. You consented to serve as our concubine and be bred by us. To pay your kingdom’s debt and to sow the seeds of peace. Do you want to default on your agreement?”
Maari blinked at him. Was he serious? “Can I do that? Can I just…go home?”
“Since you aren’t pregnant yet, that’s your choice.” Jude pulled his com device from his pocket. “If that’s what you want, I’ll have your brother send a ship for you.”
She nodded, watching his face closely. Keeping a tight grip on her own emotions. Waiting for him to change his mind and pull this miraculous rug out from under her.
“Call Jaarod Delayne,” Jude ordered, and his device buzzed as her brother’s picture pulsed on the screen.
“Thank you. Thank you so much!” Maari pressed one fist to her chest, trying to slow her racing heart. It wouldn’t do for her heart to give out moments before she was released from hostile custody…
Jude’s device beeped, and he held it up as Jaarod’s image was replaced with a live feed of his face, which Maari saw in reverse from the back of the transparent device. Behind her brother’s head, she recognized her late father’s office, and a pang of nostalgia echoed throughout her entire body.
“Camden?” Jaarod said. “How did you get my private line?”
“From the com we confiscated from your sister.”
Her brother seemed to think about that for a second, and Maari opened her mouth, too excited to wait for Jude to get around to announcing her news. But then Jaarod started talking. “I’m going to have to insist that you send that back to us.”
“Fine,” Jude said. “I’ll send it with your sister. Maari has elected to pull out of the peace accord on behalf of Stead Delayne, so please send a ship for her at your earliest convenience.”
“What?” Jaarod sat straighter, scowling in reverse through the screen. Fear creasing the new lines in his forehead.
“Of course, forfeiting on a peace agreement is an act of war. I’ll send notice to the council, so we can start organizing an allied response. But at least your sister will get to spend the last days of her life with her family. With the citizens she’s just condemned to death.”
Understanding crashed over Maari, as Jude’s gaze found hers over the top edge of the device he held between them. Her chest felt like an open wound sucking at the universe.
Sure, he would let her go—but not without taking his anger out on all of Bannon.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jaarod demanded. “Maari isn’t authorized to act on behalf of Stead Delayne. We’re not pulling out of the peace accord.”
“She’s withdrawn her consent to merge our bloodlines and has defaulted on your stead’s obligation to Stead Camden.”
“She can’t default. Is she there? Put her on.”
Jude shifted on the bench to sit next to her, so that Jaarod could see them both.
“Maari, what the living fuck have you done?”
“Nothing, I… I just want to come home.” Shock robbed her voice of all but the thinnest ribbon of sound, yet her brother seemed to hear her. “I’m not defaulting. I’m not speaking on behalf of Stead Delayne. I just want to come home. Please, Jaarod. Find a way to bring me home.”
Jaarod exhaled, frown lines compounding, and his focus shifted to Jude. “Surely we can negotiate an alternative. Have you already had her?”
“Repeatedly. As have both of my brothers. We’re quite pleased with her.”
Maari closed her eyes. Humiliation flamed in her face.
“Maari,” Jaarod said. “Look at me.”
She forced her eyes to open. To focus on her brother.
“You know you’re no use to us now, for a marriage alliance.” Because a royal bride must be untouched, and her virginity was a ship that had sailed all the way around the fucking globe.
“But we can negotiate something else, surely,” she stammered, turning to Jude. “There has to be something else you’re willing to accept as—”
“I want you,” Jude growled, pinning her with his ice-blue eyes. Then he turned back to his com device. “She stays here and meets her obligations—lives by my rules—or I will lead an allied army into Bannon as soon as I can call up the troops.�
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“Fucking hell, Maari,” Jaarod swore, as despair crashed over her, sucking all hope out to sea in the rising tide of her misery. “I’m not going to let you sign death warrants for every man, woman, and child in Bannon.” Jaarod turned to Jude. “She’s yours. Do whatever you want with her, so long as the treaty remains in place. Stead Delayne will not have her back.”
Maari struggled to breathe as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. “Jaarod—”
“No,” he snapped at her, then he turned back to Jude. “She no longer speaks for Stead Delayne, and she has no authority with which to default. Any further defiance from her should be considered misbehavior from a member of your household, to be dealt with however you normally deal with such issues, and it should not reflect upon Stead Delayne in the slightest. We wash our hands of her. Though we do look forward to meeting any children bred through her, as a mutual interest of our two steads.”
Jude arched one brow at Jaarod. “So if she were to try to sneak back into Bannon…?”
“I would have her arrested for unlawful entry and delivered right back to you.”
Maari clenched her jaw shut to keep the sob in her throat from breaking free.
“So, are we good?” Jaarod asked.
Jude nodded. “I find your terms acceptable.” He tapped an icon in the top corner of his screen and ended the communication, then he slid the device back into his pocket.
“Why?” Maari whispered, numb. “You’ve already taken Gareth’s head. You and your brothers have already ruined me for marriage. Would you really kill another million people, if I didn’t agree to stay here and be your whore?”
“That question is moot, now.” Jude tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting it trail almost lovingly through his hand. “You have nowhere left to go. You no longer speak for Stead Delayne, and you lack the authority to default on your obligation.”
“Why?” she asked again, staring miserably into his ice-blue eyes. Trying to understand.
“Because you are mine.” Jude slid his hand into the hair at the back of her skull and pulled her toward him until he could capture her mouth, sweeping his tongue inside in a possessive gesture so intense it made her moan with need, even as rage burned inside her. “I’m sorry that lesson was so painful,” he said, and her heart ached with the realization that he’d set her up. He’d known that if he offered her freedom, she would jump at the chance, just as he’d known exactly how Jaarod would react, as a fledgling ruler with an entire global alliance ready to move against him.
“But I hope you understand now. There is nothing for you, outside this palace. You have nothing but me, and my brothers, and the pleasure and the children we will bring you.” Jude dropped a trail of soft kisses down her neck, murmuring against her skin as he went. “Your life here will be as enjoyable or as unpleasant as you make it. If you play your part—if you open yourself to us, body and soul—you will live a charmed life. You will want for nothing. You and your children will be adored and indulged beyond all reason. But if you defy us and refuse to meet your obligations willingly, you will find out what it truly means to be a prisoner…”
Jude pressed her back on the bench and tugged on the white satin sash until her robe fell open. He sat up, marveling at the play of sunlight on her supple flesh, ignoring the fresh well of tears in her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” He unfastened his pants and freed a cock already straining for her. “Spread your legs for me, Maari. Show me that you understand what I’ve shown you. What this could be, if you just let me in.”
Destroyed, Maari sobbed as she let her legs fall open on the bench, her sore, overused sex exposed to daylight for the first time.
Jude positioned himself between her thighs and slid inside her gently. He took her slowly, almost tenderly, caressing and praising her as his scent worked its seductive magic. Coaxing climax from her twice with long, slow strokes and gentle commands.
When it was over, he pulled her into his lap and held her while she cried.
Maari sat on the stone bench in the garden for the rest of the afternoon, wrapped in her sheer white robe, soggy in the back, with what dripped out of her. Jude ordered a snack for her, and someone brought out a small table and a tray of fruit, as well as a bottle of red wine, from the royal vineyard.
She ignored the fruit, but poured herself glass after glass of wine, surprised every time Jude didn’t object, or at least tell her to slow down. Until she realized he believed this would be her last chance for wine, for at least the next nine months.
Maari let him believe that. She let him steal quiet, pleased glances at her, while he sat next to her, returning messages on his com device. While she slowly got drunk in silence.
When the second sun hung low on the horizon, Jude pocketed his device and rose, offering her his hand. She brushed aside his offer and stood on her own, but then the bench immediately reclaimed her, as the beautiful garden slowly spun around her.
“You’ve had too much.” Jude sounded more amused than critical as he slid one arm around her back and helped her up.
The palace felt no more steady than the garden had, as he led her down a maze of hallways, and by the time they began to look familiar, Maari had lost the will to try and memorize the route.
Annah stood outside her bedroom door, when they arrived, and she opened it so the king could help his concubine inside. Maari stopped just inside the door and stared around in surprise.
The lilac room was no more.
The dinette had been replaced with a larger table and four chairs, upholstered in a soft sage green that matched the pinstripes on the wall fabric. The bed had been made up with matching sage green bedclothes, and a coordinating rug now lay on the stone floor, in front of the fireplace.
Fresh flowers stood in a new collection of vases, arranged around the room, and the way Annah’s gaze kept skipping from one vase to the next told Maari that her handmaid had placed those flowers personally.
The only piece of furniture that remained untouched was the huge four-post bed. Jude helped her toward it, while Annah turned back the covers. But before he would let her slide between the inviting new cream-colored sheets, Jude untied her robe and slipped it from her shoulders.
Maari burst into tears as she clutched at it. “Please, don’t take my robe.”
Jude gently pried it from her grip. “This one is soiled. But there are several more hanging in the closet.” He turned to accept the pale green one Annah held out to him, then he helped Maari into it. “If you’re good, I’ll see about some dresses. But for now, you’re allowed robes,” he said as he tied the new sash around her waist. Jude gazed at her, evidently pleased with what little the garment covered. With how easy it would be to lift, or to remove entirely.
He helped her into the bed and tucked the blankets around her. “Orlann was hoping to come see you tonight. Should I tell him to wait until tomorrow?”
“Tell him to go fuck himself,” Maari said, and Jude laughed.
“I’ll be sure to quote you exactly.” The king turned to the handmaid, his mouth already open to give her instructions on the princess’s care for the evening, when Maari’s hand caught his. He turned to find her staring up him, almost thoughtfully, her gaze more focused than it had been since her third glass of wine.
“Maybe I can kill you after all,” she informed him with a shrug against the pillow beneath her. “I didn’t want to do that to your daughters, but you did that to Gareth’s children without blinking an eye.”
Intrigued, Jude sat on the edge of the bed. “And what do you think would happen, if you killed me?”
“A nice ceremony and a respectful spreading of the ashes? Maybe around the base of one of those lovely trees in the garden.” She gave him a self-indulgent smile. “That way, you could live on forever as the human pile of fertilizer you are.”
Jude blinked at her, but again, his temper seemed oddly, completely absent since she’d been abandoned by her brother. “And what would the repercu
ssions be, if you killed me?”
“I’d be celebrated all across Bannon. They’d probably name schools and bridges after me.”
“Do you think the peace would hold? Think it through, Maari,” he insisted, and she tried, but her thoughts felt fuzzy, at best. Slippery, and difficult to hold onto. “How do you think Malac and Orlann would react to the assassination of another Camden king by another Stead Delayne agent?”
She smiled up at him, sweetly. “I’m no longer Stead Delayne. I’m a member of your household. Which means your death would be an inside job.”
His brows rose. “Clever girl. But I doubt my brothers would see it that way. What do you think they would do, to avenge my murder?”
Maari honestly had no answer for that. They certainly wouldn’t limit their revenge to executing her. They would likely paint Jude’s assassination as a hit by Stead Delayne and in retaliation, they would muster their allies to march across Bannon.
Even in her blissfully inebriated state, Maari understood what he was getting at: that killing him would be just as disastrous for Bannon as defaulting on her obligation would have been.
“So, you think I should just give up?”
Jude shrugged. “I think you should submit to the terms you’ve already consented to.”
“Is that what you would do in my place?” she demanded softly. “You would just submit?”
“I would never be in your place.”
“Because you’re a man?”
“Because I am a king, and I know how to fight. I could never be used as a pawn.”
“How is that fair? I didn’t choose any of my disadvantages.”
“No one ever said life was fair, Maari.” He cupped her face as he leaned down to steal a kiss. “We play the hand we’re dealt. That’s all any of us can do. And you were dealt to me.”
But even half-asleep and thoroughly intoxicated, Maari understood that half-truth for what it was. She hadn’t just landed in Jude Camden’s hand.
Dirty Lovely Broken Page 17