Shadows of the Night (Kingdom Key Book 2)

by TylerRose.

  “I do not know if he did or did not, Royal Brother. I would tell you if I knew.”

  “I know you would. Please get Pisod here as quickly as he can.”

  Which was about three minutes. The youngest of the favored trio arrived inside the door.

  “Royal Brother? Where is she and what did you do this time?”

  “I saved her, is what I did. She’s in her room, crying,” Shestna said, coming to answer the door that was chiming behind Pisod.

  The younger attendant from the dress shop was there with a bag in her hands and barely holding back tears of relief and gratitude.

  “Mistress’ clothes, Your Highness. I included both pairs of gloves she wanted to look at. That’s how this happened. The flower is also inside. As is the bill for the dress. The gloves are my gift.”

  “Thank you, Boni,” he said, already deciding to pay for the gloves.

  “Thank you, Your Highness. More than you will ever know.”

  Inside, he opened the box to take out the bill and the flower. Cursed thing. If his father wasn’t responsible for this, he would again lobby to have the Psala rites made much more specific and the tricking made illegal. If his father was responsible, he would have to wait for the heir to inherit. If he lived long enough to advise the new Emperor, that was. The old man was in decline, but taking charges from the crystal had delayed the inevitable by a century already.

  He put the bill atop his dresser to pay sometime during the week to come, and picked up the wood box inlaid with his personal symbols and crest. Flower on top, he carried the small box out to the sitting area. Facing the fireplace, sitting on the floor with the box in front of him, he waited for her to come out.

  The door opened and closed. She was so distraught she couldn’t feel who was there.

  “I said leave me alone!” she snapped.

  “I will once I am sure you know your rights.”

  Sudden turn to look over her shoulder, seeing Pisod inside the door.

  “My rights?” she questioned.

  “Yes. You do have them. I’m here to assure you that anything and everything Shestna says or does is required by law or expected by tradition. I will inform you if anything he says or does crosses the line or is outside law and tradition. In short: I’m on your side, Tyler.”

  “Are you the one sent to watch us fuck?” she turned angry.

  “Let’s not worry about that right now. You’re putting the wagon before the ox. You don’t even have the betrothal beads on yet. He can’t do anything until you go out there and present yourself for him to place them on you.”

  “Is there a time limit on that?” she asked, looking up to where he was leaning against the wall.

  “No. You can stay right here for the next year if you want, if it takes that long for you to be ready. The week begins when the beads go on, to the minute.”

  “Stay here for a year with you bringing food in?” she scoffed.

  “If you wish.”

  “He’ll sit there waiting for me all that time? I don’t think so.”

  “Yes, he will. He’ll be allowed to leave his location for fifteen minutes every four hours to do what he needs to do, be it toilet use, getting food or making phone calls to conduct business.”

  “If he’s gone twenty minutes instead of fifteen?” she challenged.

  “He’ll be fined a few bucks. I’m sorry, but there’s no getting out of it, Tyler. There is no mechanism for getting you out of it. The law is entirely skewed against the bride in the seven day arrangement.”

  “You just said I have rights.”

  “You do. You have the right to not be pounced on and violated if you will go willingly. I’m here to help you be willing.”

  “If I am not ever willing?”

  He grinned. “Have you never had one lover hold you in place for another lover?”

  Indeed she had. Many times Kevin had told Dalton to hold her arms back and hold her still.

  “Why is it a problem?” Pisod asked. “You are attracted to him. You flirt and tease with him, taunt him mercilessly just like you did Mankell. You already know you want him.”

  “Because it’s forced on me. I have a very hard time doing something out of pressure and obligation. I hate being forced and manipulated.”

  “Nooooooooo! Really? I never noticed that about you before.”

  She had to stifle a little laugh at his tone, turned the laugh to anger at herself.

  “In case you are questioning what happened, I know for a fact that Shestna did not have any part in the flower being put in your hand. He had nothing to do with this.”

  “Why? Because you know who did?” she shot back.

  “I do not. I know he did not because I know my brother. A more honorable man never lived. He has spoken against the flower rite since before I was born. Has many times tried to convince our father to change the laws to prevent this kind of thing from happening. He would not ever trick you when he knows all he has to do is peacefully present you with a white flower and you would accept it –and him– just for the experience of it. It’s being tricked that has you furious and feeling trapped.”

  “No fucking shit.”

  “So turn that manipulation around and see it differently. You’re getting exactly what you wanted without having to give in and say yes; without having to admit you’re curious as hell how Voranian sex works. Without having to compromise anything about yourself. Without his having to ask and risk being told no.”

  She held her tongue. It was Shestna who had refused her the night before, if delicately and diplomatically, not the other way around.

  “Let me look at the clothes his formers have left behind,” he said, pushing off the wall to cross the room. “I’m sure there’s something suitable for the bead ceremony.”

  “What happens during this bead ceremony?”

  “He puts a string of beads on you.”

  “And?”

  “That’s it. A few words may or may not be spoken.”

  “And then he pounces on me with those anchors?”

  Pisod had to chuckle, separating hangers to see each garment. “Is that what bothers you? I’m sure he told you they don’t have to be engaged. We have excellent control over that. They only engage when we want, as deep, fast, or hard as we want, and for as long as we want. This would be good.”

  A short, filmy negligee in two sheer layers with satiny edging and cuffs and a matching panty. Peach colored, falling to mid-thigh when she put it on. She went back to the sofa to sit again, not ready at all.

  “Be seen, Neverseen,” he said.

  “Your wish, Master?” the male Neverseen asked.

  “Brush her hair. Pull it all back and put this in her hair,” Pisod instructed, rummaging through a small jewel drawer for a narrow band of ebony wood with clear quartz crystals along it.

  “What are you really doing here, Pisod?” she asked, but let the Neverseen perform his task.

  “Well, it seems my oldest brother has acquired a new wife. She has no sisters to help her prepare to receive him. They would tell her what to expect of the whole thing. She’s rather reluctant to go through with it because she has no choice in anything and not much say about anything,” he replied, looking for her makeup bag.

  “She is, isn’t she?” Tyler muttered.

  “Thus I am nudging her along as best I can so my brother, who has this fetish for being the knight in shining armor and saving damsels in distress, doesn’t have to sit out there all night – or all week – by himself.”

  He found the zippered case and opened it on the dresser to line up several items. Eye liner and eyeshadow were fine; but she almost never wore the tinted lip gloss.

  “When you’re finished with her hair, apply these.”

  “As you desire, Master,” the Neverseen nodded.

  “I can put my own eyes on,” Tyler reached to pick them up, and ended up putting all three items back into the case. “I don’t think all that is necessary. Do the hair and
be done already.”

  “I am ready to put in the band now, Mistress.”

  Slid into place, a very different look from what she usually wore.

  “Should I put away the new dress, Mistress?”

  “You may as well leave it out. I’m sure we’ll have to go see the Emperor sooner rather than later,” she said. “Check to be sure I didn’t damage it.”

  “Yes, you will be presented to him,” Pisod confirmed. “Likely the day after tomorrow. Shestna will want to get it over with and be alone with you again.”

  She brought her pipe to her hands.

  “That you cannot do just yet. After the beads. Not before.”

  “Pisod.”

  “What?”

  “Get the hell out. I’ll come out in a few minutes and I expect Shestna to be alone. I’ll see you when we come to court, I’m sure,” Tyler said.

  “You don’t want me to stay through the beads at least? Then there’s the claw trimming.”

  “Nudging is beginning to annoy the fuck outta me, Pi. Go. Tell him I’ll be there shortly. Leave me be.”

  He bent to kiss her cheek. “You will truly be my sister. He really is a good man.”

  “I know he is. I’m being stupid.”

  He whispered a secret something for her to do that would surprise Shestna a great deal and totally put her in the driver’s seat when she was ready. Smiling, she sparked up the lighter and took a toke as he left her.

  “Is she still angry?” Shestna asked when Pisod approached the top step on that side.

  He had moved from the middle of the floor to one of the sofas to wait more comfortably. Knowing how stubborn she could be, he did expect to be waiting until morning.

  “My mission is accomplished. She’s more annoyed with me right now than you or the situation. She’ll be out shortly. See you when you bring her to visit Father.”

  “Thank you, Royal Brother. I owe you for this one.”

  “I will eventually collect, Royal Brother. Enjoy her,” Pisod said

  He activated his teleport device to return to the palace and make the mandatory report to their father.

  Shestna smelled the pungent marijuana and knew he would not have to wait much longer. The two were expected to be sober during the bead ceremony and first coupling, but he could let that slide. Most people never knew that she was high half the time anyway.

  The door opened and he was on his feet in that second, at once more nervous than he’d been for any but his very first Seven-Day Bride. He blinked to see the outfit she was wearing. Not something left behind, but a piece he had purchased because he liked it and was going to have his next wear. No one but he knew that. The band in her hair he’d presented to his fifth Seven-Day bride. She had obviously left it behind.

  “You look lovely.”

  The only thing he could think to say.

  “Pi wanted me to put on makeup but I didn’t think it necessary,” she said, a bit more subdued in tones than he had heard from her.

  He held out his hand for her, gratified that she took it to descend the few steps to the carpeted circle. She saw the box waiting there and he felt the anxiety in her fingers.

  “Never mind that for the moment,” he said, and took her to the sofa instead.

  He sat turned toward her and she toward him, her knee bending and the short negligee resting on the sofa to preserve her modesty. He reached for her hand, lifted it as he bent over to kiss.

  “I’m so very sorry this happened. I was complacent. I walked away from you to buy a trinket and he took the opportunity. I hadn’t seen him.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “I do not blame your fury, Femina. Every woman who is tricked is entitled to her anger. It is a cruelty; but one I can do nothing about.”

  “I know. I’m here. I’m fine. Well, now. I wasn’t before but I am now. So I’m here for a few days longer and I learn far more about the society than either of us intended. It’s not the end of the world. So how do we do the bead thing?”

  He leaned in to kiss her lips, staying closer to look into those fathomless blue eyes of hers. He reached into his pocket and opened his hand in front of her. On his palm was a white Psala that had seen better days. Having been held in a fist, then thrown and landing on the ground, apparently trampled at some point, and then in his pocket, the white puff of petals was tired and beaten up.

  “Tyler, will you accept the white Psala and become my Seven-Day bride of your own free will?”

  She looked at it, looked at him. He was turning the forced situation into a voluntary one—for them both. She took it from his palm without a word. He smiled, releasing a relieved breath. She could have still been contrary and made things difficult.

  Holding her hand, he stood and brought her to the center of the circle.

  “You on that side,” he gestured.

  Rather than sit, she knelt with her palms flat on her thighs. Even when she didn’t know what she was supposed to do, she did it correctly.

  He knelt as well and opened the box. She could not see into it and he waved her back when she tried to lean over the lid. He looked a moment, making the final decision, and pulled out a string of beads like those she’d seen on nearly every woman over a certain (rather young) age. They were cloisonné style. Blue enamel with gold markings.

  He closed the box and moved it aside

  “Each bead says you are the wife of Prince Shestna, First Son of Emperor Encito. For as long as you wear these beads, you are my wife and First Daughter of Voran III.”

  Rising to his knees, he opened the string to a circle with both hands and reached over her head to lower them. He brought them down to rest around her neck and against her chest. Didn’t drop them. Didn’t leave her to place them. He put them into proper place most deliberately.

  The bottom-most beads curved just at the top of her cleavage. She looked down to them, fingered them, looked back up to him.

  “They match your eyes,” he smiled, looking down on her while she looked up to him.

  He bent to kiss her with more intent, and stared hard into her eyes a moment when he ended the kiss.

  “You are the only woman I have ever offered the Psala to.”

  “I remember. So what’s next?”

  “That depends on you and if you think you’re ready, wife.”

  Legally married, even if it was only for seven days. She shifted off her calves and eased herself to lie back on the black and tan Norav skin rug. The pale of the peach negligee, her skin even more pale, he could not resist sliding his hand up her thigh.

  “Will you put your arms overhead? Wrists near each other?” he asked.

  She complied, his hand sliding up her torso to rest warm and conspicuous on her breast.

  “This position is called the Supplicant. It is one of my favorites, as it opens your entire body for me to explore.”

  His fingers found the hard point of her nipple, stroked around and over it.

  “There is no word consent for a Voranian wife. For the next seven days, you are my property.”

  “What happened to bride?” she asked quietly.

  “The connotations of bride and property are the same, are they not?” he asked in return.

  “I suppose they are,” she said, and he felt her tremble under his hand.

  “Please do not be afraid. I will not hurt you in any way. I promise.”

  “I’m not afraid. I always tremble for the ones that are going to mean something.”

  He turned over top of her, one knee between hers, lowering over her to kiss until he wanted more than kissing.

  “I have wanted you for a long time, Femina. You will pardon me if I take my time.”

  “I would expect nothing less from you, Sta.”

  “There is another reason I like the Supplicant position,” he said.

  “What?”

  “It keeps the female’s claws out of the way. It is shameful for a Voranian husband to bear the scratches and marks of his couplings. If yo
u keep your hands here, do not scratch me, I will not have to trim your nails. If you cannot control your hands, and especially your fingers, then I must trim them. I prefer not to for a Seven-Day bride.”

  “I’ll do my best. But you may have to hold my arms down now and then. But…if they’re under your shirt, who is ever going to know?”

  He breathed a smile at her wicked expression. “My father and the rest of my family will know because we will be expected to join the family in the sunning yard when we visit.”

  “Ah. You’ve not looked closely at my nails this week, have you?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “Yes.”

  He picked up one hand and brought it to himself to look at the tips. A sliver of silver peeked out from the white polish she’d put on yesterday.

  “What are those?”

  “What do you think they are?”

  “Thin metal edges. Razors?” he said.

  “Yes. You can put these on them,” she said, holding up a little baggy she’d brought to her other hand.

  He chuckled, and did exactly that. “When did you do this?”

  “A few days before I came here. Next time he shows up, I’ll be more prepared.”

  “I’m sure you will be.”

  “Now you’ve fought off two enemies on my behalf. I guess you meant it.”

  “Meant what?”

  “You made promises to protect me. You and Mankell are the only ones so far who have followed through on that promise,” she said as he finished her other hand.

  “I do not make promises I will not or cannot keep. I have issued the challenge twenty times now. I have won twenty times. Hynder had been challenged only ten or so times out of all the women he’d tricked.”

  “Why does it bother you so much? If it’s expected that one or the other will die?”

  “Because he was an important businessman in my Principality. I’ve not heard from his heir yet.”

  “I’m sure the heir will say thank you, since you allowed him to inherit decades before he otherwise would have.”

  “You may be right. There. You are effectively declawed for the moment. Still, keep your hands in the Supplicant.”

  “Yes, dear.”