by K. L. Thorne
“Nap time? What the—”
He felt Mivian’s breath on his skin and a sickly-sweet floral smell enveloped him. Before he had chance to fight it, Haros’s body sagged and his eyelids grew heavy. He fell into a deep, immediate slumber.
Chapter Ten
“It’s done, Your Highness.”
Sivelle startled and turned to face her handmaiden, who had snuck up behind her through the crowds. The princess politely excused herself from a boring conversation with the wife of one of her father’s dignitaries.
“If I have to listen to one more brain-dead, simpering…” Sivelle growled beneath her breath. She and Mivian wormed their way through the crowds to a quieter corner.
“The job you asked me to do? It’s done.”
Sivelle’s stomach churned and she pressed her lips together. The large ballroom seemed to shrink in around her.
“How did it go?” she whispered.
Mivian grinned. “He was surprised, but seemed keen. You have nothing to worry about, Princess.”
“Easy for you to say.” Sivelle sighed and glanced nervously around the room, ensuring they weren’t being overheard.
“He looks rather good strapped to your bed. If you ask me, I think we should keep him there.”
“Mivian!”
Sivelle pressed one hand to her stomach and fanned her face with the other. Upstairs, the most handsome, irresistible man she had ever met lay cuffed to her headboard. If only her sisters could see her now…
“Would anyone care for a drink?” A waiter approached with a serving platter.
The princess eagerly snatched a glass and took a large gulp from it. Mivian also took a glass, shooting the man a kind smile in thanks.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Sivelle hissed.
“Neither can I, but I’m so excited for you!”
“I feel sick.”
“In a good way, or…?”
“Both.”
The girls tittered between themselves, unaware of the intrusion of one of her father’s guards until he cleared his throat.
Sivelle glanced up. He was young and surprisingly nice-looking for one of her father’s thugs. She could have sworn he cast an appreciative eye over her before speaking.
“Your father requests an audience with you, Princess.”
Sivelle had never met this particular guard before. She was sure she would have remembered an attractive face like his, though she supposed it was hard to tell them apart when they were all wearing helmets. As it was a special occasion, the King’s Guard had forgone their usual battle armour in favour of elaborate ceremonial pieces. Far less practical, but much more in-keeping with the festivities.
“Will you excuse me a moment, Mivian?”
The guard held out his elbow for Sivelle and she hastily downed the remainder of her wine before taking his arm, earning a soft chuckle from the guard. Her handmaiden took the empty glass from her and disappeared through the crowds.
“Come, Your Highness. Let me show you to your father.”
The guests parted for them to pass. Sivelle’s stomach began to churn as they approached the king.
“You look splendid this evening, if I may say so, Your Highness,” the soldier said.
“Oh! Thank you.” Sivelle faltered and glanced up beneath her lashes at the knight. He dutifully kept his eyes turned away from her.
It was laughable, really. All she had to do was show a bit of cleavage and men from all walks of life were suddenly paying attention. Sivelle pursed her lips with irritation.
The other guards that surrounded her father stood aside to allow them through. The king was deep in conversation with a fat, balding faerie noble. Seeing them approach, the man quickly excused himself and her father turned his attention to her.
“Sivelle, my darling. Happy Birthday!” The king stepped forwards and took her arm from the handsome faerie guard. “Thank you, Captain Morgwell.”
Sivelle glanced over her shoulder and the knight caught her eye. His lips quirked into a small smile as he dismissed himself.
“Is that captain new, Father?” she asked.
“Ah, I wondered if Morgwell would catch your attention.” Lazuli laughed heartily and cast her a knowing look
“N-no, not like that. I mean—”
Her father stroked his thumb and forefinger against her chin affectionately. “It’s quite alright. He’s a handsome fellow. It’s only natural that he’s piqued your interest. Just don’t get too attached – he’s an excellent soldier but not of good enough breeding for you, my darling.”
Sivelle didn’t protest. Perhaps she would have had some interest in the handsome captain if her attention hadn’t already been captured by a far less suitable man. Maybe it would work in her favour that her father thought she had eyes for the captain.
“Where is Mother?” Sivelle changed the subject quickly.
“She is around somewhere, schmoozing with guests. I’m sure you’ll run into her.”
Sivelle fought a frown. It was typical of her mother to prioritise socialising over her own daughter’s birthday.
Her father clicked his fingers at a nearby waitress, who practically launched herself to his side with the tray of drinks she was carrying.
“Are you enjoying your party?”
Though she had already begun to feel a little disorientated and dizzy, Sivelle took another glass of wine from her father’s outstretched hand.
“Yes, it’s been wonderful,” she lied. In reality it had been a bit of a bore, as she had expected. Whilst she had enjoyed talking with the few guests she actually liked, most of her night had been spent making small talk with people she didn’t.
Sivelle was impatiently waiting for the earliest opportunity she had to excuse herself and head upstairs to unwrap her favourite birthday present of all.
“I’m glad. I hear you successfully chose a thrall. How is he settling in?”
Sivelle almost choked on her mouthful of wine. She hastily swallowed it before answering.
“He’s wonderful. I’m very satisfied with him.”
“Excellent news. Well behaved and obedient?”
“He has his moments, but we’re getting there.” Sivelle smirked.
“I’m sure you will have him at your feet in no time, my darling.” The king cast her an approving glance.
If only he knew… Her father’s ignorance of the whole situation only fuelled Sivelle’s enthusiasm. He would be furious if he knew what she was planning to do with her thrall for the rest of the evening.
“I won’t keep you from your guests for long, but whilst I have you here I wanted to talk about something serious for a moment.”
Sivelle nodded and took a sip from her glass.
“Your sisters. I have sent men to retrieve them, but the fools have failed me.” His eyes darkened with malice. “Lori and Faye will not be returning to Awrelwood, my dear.”
“W-will you continue to send men after them?” Sivelle’s mind whirled with possibilities. Could Haros help her get a message to her sisters to warn them?
“I cannot spare many, not with the tensions rising between us and the demons.” He grimaced as though just speaking the word left a bad taste in his mouth. “I am in a difficult position. Whilst I will endeavour to retrieve your foolish siblings, I want you to prepare for their inevitable demise. They have been missing for many days now – I fear they may have already fallen victim to the wilds.”
Sivelle knew her father’s words were untrue and tried her hardest to look crestfallen.
“Now, my darling, do not upset yourself over their fate, for it leaves you in a much more fortuitous position.”
It was typical of her father to overlook the deep, emotional attachment Sivelle had with her sisters in favour of what she would gain from their absence. The princess felt sick, but took another sip from her wine glass.
“You are my sole remaining heiress. When I become too old and frail to rule, you and the partner you deign to ke
ep beside you will rule this kingdom. The ball I am holding for you is more important now than ever before.”
“How are plans for that coming along?” she asked, a strange hollow feeling creeping into her chest.
“I am pleased with the arrangements so far. I think you will be rather impressed with some of the men I have gathered for your approval. Though, admittedly, I don’t think they are as handsome as the captain you have eyes for,” he teased and squeezed her shoulder affectionately.
Sivelle scoffed and rolled her eyes but a cold sweat broke out on her back. What sort of men did her father have lined up for her?
“Excuse me, Father. I believe this wine has gone to my head,” she mumbled, pulling away from his embrace.
“Partaken a little too generously, have we?” He chortled. “We will continue this discussion another time. Go, get some fresh air. Would you like one of my men to accompany you?”
“No, no. Mivian is around somewhere. I will find her.”
“Alright, be well.”
Sivelle scurried away from her father as quickly as possible. She pushed her way politely through the crowds, exchanging false smiles and greetings with those she made eye contact with.
At the edge of the room, she pulled aside a large, velvet drape and stumbled out onto the veranda.
It was bitterly cold, but unoccupied. Sivelle sighed with relief, her breath swirling through the night air. She wrapped her arms around her body, her wings tucking back out of the cold, and gazed out across the frozen landscape.
From this side of the castle, she could see nothing but forest. Its vast expanse was coated in a thick dusting of snow. Fine flakes had begun to fall from the sky once more.
What were her sisters doing right now? Were they, as Haros suggested, raising a glass to her in Banesteppe? Her thoughts turned to their birthday wishes she had hidden inside the silver locket back in her bedroom. She wondered if Haros would be able to help her get a letter to them.
Her chest fizzed with excitement, thoughts once more on the demon chained to her bed, and she trailed her fingertips across the exposed flesh at her breast. She could almost still feel his kisses there. His face had been rough with stubble and it had surprised her how much she had liked the feeling of it grating against her.
She needed to get away from this party as soon as possible. With her nausea finally easing, Sivelle shivered and crept back into the hot, crowded ballroom.
After wandering aimlessly between groups of people for a few moments, she finally spotted Mivian talking with Liza and a few of the other serving staff. As Sivelle approached, all but the handmaiden and her dance tutor dispersed.
“There you are! I wondered where you had gotten to.” Mivian smiled at her.
“Happy Birthday, beautiful girl.” Liza pulled Sivelle into an embrace and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Thank you, Liza. I’m so glad you could come.”
“As if I would miss it. All this fantastic food and drink and…” She paused, glancing around. “Are you without your handsome friend this evening?”
“Yes, given present company I thought it best he was kept out of the way,” Sivelle replied in hushed tone.
“Ah. A good plan, though I don’t doubt the demon can look after himself.” Liza winked.
Sivelle groaned and rolled her eyes.
“I take it you’ve met Haros, Liza?” Mivian asked, shooting Sivelle a knowing smile.
“He has been a welcome piece of eye candy at Sivelle’s lessons. If only I were twenty years younger…” The older woman shook herself.
Mivian giggled and caught Sivelle’s eye again.
“I have to say, my sweet, I am surprised your father has allowed you to employ such a strapping young demon, given his… feelings on their kind.”
“Uh, well, he may or may not know,” Sivelle whispered.
Liza’s eyebrows rose. “Oh my! Well, that certainly makes more sense.”
“A secret between us that I expect you to keep, Liza.”
“Naturally. What thrall? I didn’t ever notice you with one, my darling.” The faerie winked and Sivelle laughed softly.
The three women stood chatting easily for a long while. Sivelle fanned herself, beginning to feel a little nauseous again. The heat in the room was stifling and her nerves had begun to build to a point where she was unable to ignore them. A thousand glasses of wine wouldn’t have distracted her from what she knew lay ahead.
“Say, you’re looking a little tired, Princess.” Mivian eyed her, attempting to feign concern. “It’s been a long day. Would you like to retire to your chambers?”
“You do look a little peaky. Are you feeling alright?” Liza agreed and held the back of her hand to Sivelle’s forehead.
“Yes, I’m just… tired. As Mivian said, it’s been a long day.”
“Why don’t you sneak out of here then, my child? I’m sure you’ve done enough socialising for one evening.”
Sivelle said her goodbyes and hugged her tutor tight whilst Mivian sidled up to the aged faerie guard who was blocking the exit.
“The princess is tired. I’ll escort her to her room. Can you let the king know where she is, should he be looking for her?”
The guard nodded and opened the door to allow Mivian and Sivelle to slip out into the cool corridor.
“Come on, let’s get you upstairs and into something more comfortable.” Mivian grinned and the two girls trotted towards her bedroom.
Sivelle paused as they reached the doorway and gazed at her handmaiden warily.
“Mivian… What am I to expect in here?”
“Just what you asked, Princess. Haros is bound and blindfolded.”
“Is he… unclothed?”
“Almost. I left the important bits on. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” Mivian smirked.
“Y-you said he’s aware of the plan for this evening?” Sivelle asked as her palms grew clammy.
“He is, but fear not – I cast a slumber spell over him before I left. He will be out for the count until I remove it.”
Sivelle cracked the door open and peeped nervously inside. As promised, Haros lay on her bed with his wrists bound to her headboard, fast asleep. Sivelle watched his glorious, toned chest rise and fall in even breaths.
“Let’s get you out of that dress.” Mivian ushered Sivelle towards her dressing room.
The shape of Sivelle’s gown had not allowed for any brassier. As the princess was stripped from her dress, she stood awkwardly, wearing only champagne-coloured lace knickers. Despite Mivian having seen her naked countless times, Sivelle wrapped an arm self-consciously over her breasts. Her wings trembled, betraying her nerves.
“Personally, I think you’ll do fine as you are, but you could change into something more risqué if you wish?” Mivian pulled open the underwear drawer and began digging through it.
“N-no. I think I’ll remain like this… Maybe just that silk camisole?”
Mivian held a pale vest out to her and Sivelle hurriedly tugged it on, relieved to cover herself up. The handmaiden pulled various clasps and clips from her hair, until the long, platinum curls were loose once more.
“Alright, well, I’m not going to hang around here. Are you ready for me to lift the spell? He won’t come to right away. You’ve probably got a few minutes before it wears off and he returns to his full faculties.”
Sivelle instinctively reached out to squeeze Mivian’s hand.
“Is this a bad idea?”
“Not at all, Princess. Remember what we talked about – he’s your thrall, he does what you want him to, even if you decide you want him to do nothing at all.” The handmaiden squeezed her hand in return.
“What if something goes wrong? Or I—”
Mivian held up a palm, cutting the princess off. “You like the demon, yes? You find him attractive?”
Sivelle nodded and nibbled her lip.
“He’s just as interested in you – don’t forget that. There’s nothing to be worried
about here, Your Highness. You take as much time as you need… Besides, think how jealous your sisters would be right now.”
Sivelle fought a small smile. Neither Lori nor Faye had ever done anything as exciting or daring as this. She took a deep breath and nodded determinedly.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
Mivian happily clapped her hands together and they returned to the bedroom. The handmaiden approached the sleeping demon. She took a deep breath and blew hard against his face. Sivelle watched as a fine mist of sleeping powder billowed into the air.
“I’ll leave you some sleeping powder, just in case things go awry. It’s only to be used in an emergency, you hear?” Mivian reached inside her brazier and produced a tiny metal tin. She held it up to Sivelle before placing it on the bedside cabinet.
“How does it work?”
“Just pour a small pile out into your palm and blow it gently into his face. It works a treat – he’ll be counting sheep in seconds. So long as you don’t jostle him, he should remain that way until morning.”
Sivelle nodded, swallowing thickly.
Mivian adjusted her skirts and headed for the door. “I need to get out of here before he wakes up. Good luck, Princess – and have fun!” She cast Sivelle a wide grin and quickly exited the bedroom, closing the door behind herself.
Sivelle stood frozen in place, alone with the sleeping demon at last. She clenched and unclenched her sweaty hands.
Was this a bad idea? Would she regret it? How would she know what to do? What if—
Haros groaned and shook his head as he began to awaken.
“Sleeping powder? That little witch…” he grumbled.
Blindfolded as he was, he was clearly unaware of Sivelle’s presence. She tiptoed quietly towards the open bottle of wine from earlier in the evening, suddenly craving some liquid courage.
“Mivian? Are you still in here?” Haros called out.
Sivelle grasped the cork that had been placed inside the neck of the wine bottle and carefully eased it open. It popped loudly in the quiet room and she grimaced.
“…Sivelle?”
The princess bit her cheek, debating for a moment whether it was too late for her not to answer. She could just sneak out and sleep in one of her sisters’ rooms…