Page 25 of Glass Hearts
“You’re giggling at me?! You dare?!” It seems I have made Mr. Icicle much more displeased, shit.
“Yes, you are right. My apologies, my prince.”
Archer holds my stare for a few moments before storming out of the door. Past Sylas, who seems to have been leaning on the door the whole time.
“Come on, Grayer, Koi, we need to leavethe duchessto get used to her quarters,” he tells the other princes while maintaining eye contact with me. Why must all their stares be so heated and intense?
Koi nods to me as he leaves, looking like he wanted to say something else before I feel a kiss placed on my cheek by Grayer. “I will sneak into your room later, Duchess”, he whispers in my ear. They both leave in haste. Prince Sylas gives me one more darkened look before closing the door.
I blow out a sigh of relief until I hear the damning sound of a key turning. I go to the door and try the handle. Locked.
A few tears fall down my face. Not sure what I was expecting.
Kip and Bert scurry out of my bag. “They weren’t lying; the place is dustyyyy.”
So I do what I do best—clean.
Of course, cleaning supplies are nowhere to be found in the room. So I take out an old shirt from my suitcase to use as a makeshift duster. Kip and Bert scout out the rest of the room whilst I dust its opulent surfaces.
“We found a drawer of linens over here, Arabelly!”
“Good work, boys,” I say, heading over to the dresser and taking out fresh linens to change the bed. It had looked rumpled, and knowing the Prince’s history, there is a good chance a previous lover stayed in here. I temper down the misplaced jealousy.
I am not their lover; I have no right to be jealous.
“What did you say, Arabelly?”
“Oh, nothing, sorry, just thinking out loud, Kip.”
After a few hours, we have the room fully dusted and inventoried. Kip and Bert found a few clothing items I could borrow (again, probably from a former lover, but I will not think too much about that), a few cupboard safe snacks (to which theyopened one immediately, granola is now all over the clean bed), and a few romance novels.
I am particularly excited about the romance novels, especially since the bathroom has a tub. I have only experienced a bathtub once, and that was when Bernice and the Quadias had been away for a rare evening away. There doesn’t seem to be any toiletries or bubbling soap, but that’s okay. Maybe I can ask one of the princes… probably Grayer. Though I wonder what kind of favours he would ask in return. I shiver with excitement at the thought.
Something about the princes has me all bothered. More than I have ever been in the past. Gossip would spread around the town about how exceptional all the princes are in bed. Perhaps that is why I have this odd heated reaction to them. Nothing more.
Each time I have had sex in the past, it has always been so disappointing. Not worth the effort. The only time I have ever climaxed was by myself, so I decided not to bother with the opposite sex. It’s not like I have been looking for a husband, and if I can please myself, why even bother?
Until the damned princes. But I am not a young, horny teenager anymore.
With all the adrenaline, cleaning, and emotions of the day, I am shocked at how exhausted I truly feel, and it’s just midday.
So I opt for a quick shower,with hot water! Magical luxuries must be throughout the castle. My shed had a little pump shower, though it ran cold water from the outdoor hose. The magically warmed water was inside the townhouse, of course, so I never had the opportunity for such luxury. Lacking elemental water magic, I had to pump the line by hand to get any pressure. So it was never worth it.
“Perhaps this prison won’t be so bad.”
I put on my sleep shorts and shirt and crawled into the king-size bed. I let out a moan as I fell to the pillow, not bothering with getting under the sheets.
“Not a terrible prison at all.” I murmur into blissful nothingness.
Archer
I check my pocket again and feel Arabella’s silky bandana still there. I had snatched it while we were chasing her. I don’t know why I felt so inclined to do so, and why I can’t seem to part from it now.
We all stand outside her door for a while. Her jiggling of the lock didn’t surprise us. What did surprise us was hearing the sniffles of someone who was crying. Of course, we had to drag Gray away; the brute looked like he was ready to tear the door down to console the little thief. I have never seen him so attached to a woman before.
“Group meeting. Now,” Sylas grumbles as he walks away. To his room, where we always convene. Jett is waiting for us there, wagging his tail as he greets us. Sylas heads to the bar cart, filling four glasses with whiskey.
We clung to our glasses, taking desperate swallows, hoping to mute the reality we needed to address. As usual, Sy breaks our silence.
