Page 60 of The Call of Crimson
Breyla chokes on her potatoes. “Pardon me, what?”
“Your attending maidens, at your wedding to the prince,” the queen repeats, tone clipped. “What color will they wear?”
Clearing her throat, Breyla replies, “Firstly, I have no maidens. Secondly, I don’t give a shit. They can go nude for all I’m concerned.”
The queen’s jaw tics, her pulse visibly fluttering in her throat.
“Of course you have maidens,” she says coolly, gesturing to Rowina and Charlie. “They’re sitting at this table.”
I stifle laughter at the ensuing storm Breyla is about to release.
“Like hell,” Breyla snaps. “Rowina, fine. But Lady Charlotte? Not a fucking chance. I couldn’t care less if she’s the prince’s cousin or not.”
“Lady Charlotte is a female of good moral standing and manners,” Queen Josephina snaps back. “Something you could learn from.”
“Lady Charlotte openly propositioned Aurelius in front of my mother while they were engaged.” Breyla leans back, crossing her arms. “I may be foul-mouthed and ill-mannered, but she can claim no moral high ground over me.”
I hide my smile behind a drink of tea while watching the chaos unfold. We had done far worse things together, but at least it was behind closed doors—mostly. You wouldn’t hear me bringing that up, though.
“Alright, Mother,” Ayden says placatingly. “Perhaps Breyla would like to choose her own maidens. It isourwedding, after all. Not yours.”
“Maybe I’d like to choose my own husband, too,” Breyla mutters, rolling her eyes.
“Unfortunately, that decision is no longer available, love,” Ayden says, tone full of unbothered charm. “I suggest you enjoy the choices you do have.”
Like hell,I think.
Breyla’s emerald eyes flare, pinning me for the briefest moment before snapping back to Ayden.
“Perhaps I’ll choose which side of your face looks better with a black eye,” she grumbles.
Ayden only chuckles and keeps going, rattling off about wedding dates. “Would you prefer a winter wedding or a spring? Personally, I find a solstice wedding irresistibly romantic.”
Anger boils beneath my skin, a dangerous growl rising from my throat.
Mine.
I recall Ayden’s warning about there being more at stake here and keeping my feelings in check. The logical part of me is thrashing against the part of me that is entirely male. I’m not sure which is winning at the moment.
He rattles on about colors and a guest list, my temperature rising with each question.
Breyla’s giving him grunts and one-word responses, but I can’t see past my need to possess her and mark her as mine.
Finally, when I can rein it in no longer, I smirk, and retaliate the only way I can.
As Ayden stands to leave, his brow furrows. Conversation stops mid-sentence as he feels my Hemonia Gift being used against him.
He wraps his arms around his mother in a hug as I redirect blood flow from his brain to his dick, making him painfully hard.
“Darling, I think your sword might be on wrong,” Josephina comments uncomfortably. “There’s something poking me.”
“Does the prince not know how to handle his sword?” I taunt, sipping my tea as if bored.
Ayden shoots a murderous look in my direction. I raise my cup in a mock-toast, a lazy smirk playing at my lips.
One point for me, brother.
CHAPTER TWELVE
