Page 25 of Shadows and Roses

But it also couldn’t be an easy thing.

"Has he agreed to the continued service?" she asked idly.

Iberius’ smile widened. "He is not yet aware, but he will happily agree, I assure you, my Queen."

She sipped her wine slowly and extended her hand across the table, palm up, claws straight. His smile faded. A slight hesitation and one quick breath practically screamed fear from this unfaltering man. He placed his larger hand over hers. His aged skin was a contrast to her smooth youthful arm, but the power here was all hers.

The smallest twitch of her fingers could shred his wrist to pieces.

She played with the tender skin of his inner arm. "Have you served, Iberius?"

The faint tension in his muscles was almost a disappointment, but few were unaffected by her reputation. Was he wondering if he could sense her mood and retreatfast enough?

His voice was steady. "More than a dozen years ago, my Queen. Briefly. The Master at the time decided my services were better used elsewhere."

"Hmm. Did you enjoy your service?" His hand was still dry, soft, relaxed—remarkable, considering.

"I did not find it distasteful. My clients were gentle, and I was the one holding the whip."

"Ah. As you still do. Would you have agreed to this, Iberius? Five years for protection."

"Without hesitation," he replied too quickly.

"Why?"

He paused. Her cold smile wasn’t encouraging, but she had to play this as she did with anyone who only knew her as the Dark Queen.

Her claws stroked a little harder. He flinched, though his hand stayed still.

"My Queen. It is no secret that your court harms its servants on a regular basis. Irreparable harm. Castien is far more valuable wholly intact."

She contemplated him with her cold smile for a few moments longer, then began to slide her hand backward. A single claw dragged along his palm as she spoke. "I will consider your request. You’ll have my response by tomorrow. And Iberius? Speak plainly in the future. I do not have time for flattery and games, unless you wish to play mine."

He bowed his head almost to the table as he carefully pulled back his hand. The angry red line on his palm would burn, but she hadn't drawn blood. "Yes, my Queen. Thank you. I would not take more of your time than necessary."

"You may go."

—

Back in her private chambers, Darius lounged on her bed, scrolls spread out on the sheets. "The Night Courts’ dossiers are very thorough. Did you know your new courtesan likes—"

"I read all of it, yes." She’d glanced at the page he was focused on when she entered the room. The dossier was filled with descriptions of his talents, including what he could do to every part of the body. That one page was dedicated to ears. Who knew ears could be so extensively erotic? This courtesan, apparently.

The elegant shoes constricting her feet went flying into a wall before she hopped onto the bed, stretching her toes. Darius swept the scrolls together like a stack of cards, then went to massage her feet.

He grinned. "Is that why you’re considering helping him?"

She leaned back, closing her eyes. "You know I’d save everyone if I could."

Darius pressed again, "But why this one?"

"Jealous?" She half-opened her eyes. Court spy and sometime lover, Darius had been her friend for far longer. She never thought he loved her, not romantically.

He laughed and let her change the subject. "You’re a wonderful dance partner, but I don’t think I really satisfy you."

She shrugged. "Sometimes."

He clutched his heart and collapsed. "Sometimes! You wound me."

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