Page 17 of Given

Given murmured something polite and meaningless.

The brother paused, obviously waiting for me to do the same. When I didn’t, the color in his cheeks deepened. “Well, I should…” He cleared his throat, then offered another bow. “Princess. My lord.” He scurried off, his book tight under his armpit and the little mirror bouncing against his chest.

Given turned to me at once. “You’re a Child of Prophecy.”

“If you say so.”

“The Brotherhood says so.”

I held her stare.

“You don’t believe in it.” She made it a statement.

“I’d be more inclined to believe in it if the Brotherhood predicted the births of pig herders and shit shovelers. But somehow they only seem to forecast the births of people who grow up to line their pockets.” I pointed to an arched door set in an alcove next to the king’s chambers. “Your room is there. Go to it.”

Anger leapt into her blue eyes. Her lips parted, and for a moment she seemed on the verge of unleashing fury she’d no doubt nursed since her brother sent her over the Rift. Instead, she snapped her mouth shut, turned, and disappeared into the chamber.

I stood with her scent swirling around me. My armor was heavy, and I wanted nothing more than to remove it and soak off the sweat and dust of the road. But these luxuries would keep a while longer.

I looked at the double doors the brother had exited.

I had a meeting to attend, and it couldn’t wait.

Chapter Five

VARICK

Laurent wasn’t in his chambers.

Not at first glance, anyway.

It didn’t matter. I knew exactly where he was.

More games.

With a clenched jaw, I strode through the outer chamber and entered his personal space. I didn’t look at the massive canopied bed as I crossed his bedroom and stopped before a wood-paneled wall carved with night-blooming roses. I pressed a curved petal. There was a soft click and then a hidden door creaked open, exposing a spiral staircase carved out of the stone.

The steps were as old as the palace, and they’d been climbed so often they dipped in the middle. Not all of the wear and tear was from me, although the gods knew plenty of it was. I’d been climbing these stairs since I was sixteen years old. Back then, I had to worry about someone catching me. A nosy servant or one of my father’s spies.

But I’d climbed them anyway, because I’d never been able to resist the male waiting for me at the top.

Shoving memory aside, I made my awkward way up the twisted steps, armor scraping stone. My cloak swung out behind me as I climbed the final twist and reached the top.

And there he was.

Laurent of Nor Doru, the vampire king.

He lounged against the circular room’s sole piece of furniture—a massive bed that, according to palace lore, had been built on the spot after carpenters discovered the steps were too tight to accommodate one even after it was taken apart. But one of Laurent’s ancestors had wanted to fuck his mistress undisturbed, so workers had labored in the small, windowless chamber until they created a trysting place fit for a king. The Rose Room it was called. A winsome name for a space built for life’s basest pleasures.

The current king met my gaze with a lift of one dark eyebrow. “Took you long enough.”

He looked good, as he always did. I didn’t want to notice. I didn’t want to appreciate the tousled black hair and the piercing silver eyes. I didn’t want to admire the pure, noble features touched with arrogance. The firm jaw with the lazy black stubble that saved him from being too pretty. The kissable mouth with its easy smile, usually at my expense. The metal bar in his earlobe the same shade as his eyes. The knowledge that he had another in his tongue—and knew exactly how to use it.

Fuck.

The irritation that had been nipping at me all day sank its fangs so deep I snarled. “Your princess is delivered. She’s in the chamber next to yours, just as you ordered.”

He pushed away from the bed’s footboard, his lean body a contrast to mine. While I was wrapped in chain mail and metal plates, he was casually—almost carelessly—dressed. A pair of leather pants rode low on his hips. His shirt was open, exposing his smooth chest and defined abs. His feet were bare. Rings set with priceless jewels circled several fingers. He radiated sex, even when he wasn’t trying to.

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