Page 73 of Bonded Chaos

Whoever stood on the other side would know exactly which version of their prince they faced tonight.

When the door creaked open, it revealed a young woman, bleary-eyed and disheveled, as she blinked up at me. Her eyes widened with recognition, and she bowed hastily, her soft golden curls bouncing as they fell over her shoulder.

“Your Highness,” she stammered as she dipped even lower into her bow. “How may I be of service to you?”

Without waiting for the woman to straighten, I marched into the antechamber behind her and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I need to speak with your matron,” I demanded.

“Of course, Your Highness,” the woman said, as she twisted her fingers in front of her.

I arched an impatient brow, and she flinched before spinning around and darting from the room.

I perused the medicinal herbs that hung along the walls to cure as I waited. The scent of turmeric, sage, and mint filled the air. To most, the aromas would be calming. Tonight, theywere cloying and oppressive, as if they sat in judgment of my intentions.

Something sharp tugged at the center of my chest, and I reached up to rub at the spot.

Was that… guilt?

I shook my head as if that would ease the sensation. Before I could sink further into the strange feeling, the young woman returned with another Fae in tow. Her hair was as white as snow, and her eyes were as sharp as any bird of prey. She looked up at me with a mix of surprise and curiosity, but more importantly… suspicion.

A smile curved the corner of my mouth despite myself. She was correct in questioning my intentions.

“This is Mistress Odette,” the younger woman said.

“Thank you, Gemma,” Odette murmured. “You may return to your quarters.”

Gemma gave me a final cursory glance before she bowed and left the room.

Odette continued to assess me as the silence stretched between us. I had to admit, I admired her obstinance.

“Your Highness,” she said, breaking the tension. “This is unexpected. What brings you to me at this hour?”

I stepped forward, invading her space as I towered over her. Odette stared up at me, her neck craning as she kept her gaze focused on me.

She knew a predator when she saw one.

My admiration for her soared. Battle-hardened warriors were less daring.

“What I need from you requires a certain level of discretion,” I murmured.

She raised her brows, her interest piqued, as she folded her hands before her.

“Discretion is but one of our many talents here in the healer’s wing, Your Highness.” Her tone was low but measured.

“A woman is staying in my quarters.” I paused and waited for her to confirm she knew of whom I spoke.

When she dipped her head in acknowledgment, I continued. “She receives the daily fertility tonic as part of her morning regime.”

My gaze hardened on Odette, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“I am told that you prepare them.”

Odette nodded, understanding beginning to dawn in her eyes.

“Yes, that is correct,” she intoned. “It is standard for the courtesans of high-ranking members of the Unseelie Court to wish to avoid pregnancy during their time with their benefactors.”

A low growl rumbled from my chest, and Odette retreated a step before she could stop herself.

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