Page 68 of The King's Maiden

Another girl. Not me, of course.

Because despite living that dream, I spent most of the time on edge. Torn between waiting for Landon to pounce and wanting him to do it, I figured it was only a matter of time before he subjected me to another round of sexually frustrating torture.

Opting to sleep on the chaise, I developed a crick in my neck. I diligently counted my sleep shirts in case he decided to burn one. And I barked my safe words at him anytime he came near me.

But so far, he’d left his taunt hanging between us.

He had other ways of torturing me, I’d quickly realized.

“You’ve got the Maiden Luncheon in an hour,” he reminded me before turning back to his book.

I groaned, sinking into the chaise and pulling the blanket over my head. Forcing a cough, I sniffled loudly and moaned a little. “I’m sick.”

While the Maiden Luncheon could be a more fruitful opportunity to learn more about The Quest—since Landon thoughtthirty days of testing your honorhad been a sufficient explanation—I’d been dreading it. He had informed me with a little too much satisfaction that the dress code didn’t include my shapeless, baggy excuse for jeans.

Then, he pulled a dress out of the closet.

I wasn’t sure why lunch with the girls meant I needed to dress like an over-priced escort, but he’d been quick to tell me it was non-negotiable when he saw the look on my face.

He didn’t buy my fake sick routine either. “Come here.”

Flinging off the blanket, I did my best to seem weak and sickly as I slugged over to him. “It might be the flu. It’s that time of year.”

“It’s the middle of summer.”

I faked another cough. “The bugs must be getting stronger.”

He gave me an exasperated look and beckoned me closer. When I made it in front of him, stretching the five feet of distance into a marathon of dramatics, he thwacked my forehead with the back of his fingers. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to let me know he didn’t buy my bullshit.

“You’re not warm.”

“Neither are you,” I muttered.

He cleared his throat, keeping his expression neutral, but for a second, I swore the corner of his mouth twitched.

“What if I go and get them all sick?”

“That would be a concern…” His hand brushed the hair back from my forehead. “If you were actually sick and not just being a child.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine, but I’m wearing my clothes.”

“Great.” He turned back to the desk, making me think for a minute he was letting me have my way. But as soon as I turned around, he cleared up any illusions I had about his ability to compromise. “Since that dress falls under the category ofyour clothesand adheres to the dress code for the Maiden Luncheon, it should work perfectly.”

I whirled back around to protest, but he pointed at the dress without turning his head.

“Go on, Maiden. That’s an order.”

Eyeing the red dress, I stomped back over to the chaise and sat down with a huff. “You see how ridiculous this is, right? Dressing me like a sex doll for a tea party with the other girls.”

“It’s expected.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not ridiculous.”

He shrugged before scribbling something else in his book. I glared at his back and the dress hanging on the back of the door. Grumbling to myself, I stalked into the bathroom, yanking the offensive garment off the hanger as I went.

Accepting my fate begrudgingly wasn’t my style when the option to throw a little tantrum was on the table. Too bad my warden didn’t care about my display of displeasure. He didn’t even glance up from his desk.

What the hell he was doing over there, I had no idea.

---