Page 83 of Kiss the Filthiest King

“I think I slept through most of that round. But when I regained my senses, somehow, I was licking our queen for the fourth time, at least. I tell you, she’s addictive.”

“A cunt is a cunt,” Lark retorts with a shrug. “You’ve licked one, you’ve licked them all.”

“My friend, I only wish I could make you understand how very wrong you are. She tastes like springtime. As lovely as sweetpeas and primroses, with honeyed everapples.”

A puck I don’t know snorts. “Nonsense.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Well, you asked for it.”

My hand moves to my temple, as I focus to remember the exact taste of her, and then, I let that memory push through the forefront of my mind, past all my mental shields, and I share it with the assembled crowd—just two dozen folk or so. The taste is accompanied with the visual, the way she looked, and those words she whispered.

“You’re so very good, Valdred.”

From the many gasps, the vision works as intended.

I wasn’t exaggerating; Darina’s skin, her folds, don’t taste like flesh. She even sweats sweetly. Her bloodline is pure fae, born of nature and magic, and that’s exactly what she feels like.

“Oh, man. I’m hard,” my friend Kybriel groans. “How am I supposed to greet her now that I know what she looks like in throes of passion?”

I let myself look around. Most of the attention is on or around me.

Lark, Sorian, Kybriel, and Lord Kraid are the only four representatives of my court I see at one glance. That’s not good. Many left with my father, loyal to him no matter what the queen proclaimed.

I make myself look at Kraid, a general in my father’s old army. “Say, are you returning home shortly? I’d love to oversee the troops soon, since they’re now mine.”

He’s no fool, and the subtext is clear. Yes, I understand why he’s here, to present himself to the queen, but I need him at his post, to ensure I don’t return to rubble.

He bows low. “Yes, I’ll ensure they’re prepared to greet their new lord. You will convey my regrets to the new queen?”

“Naturally.”

He doesn’t linger after that.

“Has the crowd thinned a little?” I wonder out loud, though in fact I count twice as many folk as yesterday.

“Somewhat. The bright queen already took her leave, as well as the duchess of the court of wings,” Lark replies knowingly.

I’m not surprised. Neither of them were going to be placated by Darina’s show of impartiality in any case. They want her gone because she diminishes their power. The end.

“The mortal courts are gone, too,” Sorian adds. “Silver and gold. They never stay long to party with us.”

She pouts at that.

“Perhaps because some of the folks’ ideas of partying with them is skewering them over a low fire?”

I turn to see Loch approach me, his eyes glinting with mirth.

There are low bows. There was no official announcement, but it’s rather clear to anyone that he already stands very close to the new queen. Loch has always intrigued, and been feared by all, but he’s shrouded with more mystery than ever. They wonder how he, of all the untrustworthy, wicked folk, could have become the queen’s hand so quickly.

Offering to be murdered by her will do that. I nod respectfully, and he returns it.

“The queen’s on her way,” he announces.

I scan the unshielded minds, brushing against them fast, my intrusion too shallow to be noted. And I smirk.

Every single person in the room is picturing her with her legs spread and praise on her lips, wondering if they can have a little taste of spring, instead of thinking about chopping her head off.

That’s what one calls progress.

---