Page 26 of The King's Omega
I stared at the closed door after she left, then rushed to the privy. Mischief, who had been under the bed all along, tumbled out, covered in dust, and followed me into the alcove.
I sat atop the spotless, polished wooden privy seat and chatted with Mischief about what I should do. “I will not be the king’s side mate, no matter what, Mischief. I don’t even like him, and I’m not mate-able anyway, thank the Goddess. And what would he do if he tried to mate me and couldn’t, like that wicked man in the Sow? The king seems the whipping type as well. No, I’ll need to stay far away from him.”
“Now, Axe or Vilkurn, or even one of the pretty twins, well, let’s just say I might send the Goddess a new prayer for one of them. But not if they’re blathering on about it afterward. Or if they’re still rutting with maids like that one. She’s probably got crotch pox, or pussy plague, or something, and I’d get it and die in agony.”
Mischief sneezed, obviously agreeing.
A new question arose as I stood. “Why would the king even want to mate me? Because of my odor? I can fix that.” I just had to get to the kitchens, or a midden, to find enough rotten food. “Old fish, Mischief. That’s the ticket. It’ll cover my scent for three days, especially if I don’t wash, and you like that stench, so that’s an added benefit. Spoiled meat might work, too. Or slimy mushrooms or cabbage. Just not fruit: even rotten fruit doesn’t work on my wretched scent.”
Hmmm. “Right. First, cover my scent. Next, hide somewhere in the castle. If the Verdanians come, they’ll think I’m one of the scullery maids, or something.” I reached for one of the soft towels next to the privy and patted my bottom clean. How fancy—we just had a wet rag in a bucket at the Sow.
I picked up Mischief, murmuring into her ear. “What if my sweet Axe fights the stupid Verdanians and gets hurt? There must be some way I can protect him, or fight for him. I can hide in the tunnels and slip out at night to kill any Verdanian invaders in their sleep. Or work in the kitchens as a poisoner, if I can figure out what things are poisonous. That’s it! I’ll poison them.” I stopped, thinking hard. “And if the king tries to force me to mate him, I’ll poison him, too.”
“Lass?” A deep voice drew me from my murderous thoughts. “Did you just threaten to poison the king?”
Lorn
The girl’s eyes betrayed her every thought as she considered her options: run away, pretend to faint, lie, tell the truth, and even—with a quick glance at the kitten—throw the small beast at me as a distraction. This girl was so unlike the women I’d spent my days with as a diplomat. They were sophisticated and self-centered, spending their time plotting court intrigues and affairs. She was completely transparent and without guile.
And without grace, too. She yelped and stumbled back, her bare toes catching on the edge of the rug. As she fell, I made sure she landed in my arms. Her curves were small but perfect, her limbs slender and supple. I wanted to explore every inch of her body, but this was a good start. I wiped all expression from my face. “Do you know the punishment for threatening regicide?”
“N-no. I wasn’t threatening, I was just talking—” I pressed a finger to her mouth.
“I heard you. As one of the king’s generals, it is my sworn duty to carry out his will.” My other hand rested beneath her small bottom, and she gasped as I pinched slightly. Her peaches and honey scent began perfuming the air around us, and my own spiced musk mixed with it in a promise of things to come. “I must punish you.” Slowly, I moved my other hand to her neck, circling it gently. “We can’t let such a threat pass without consequences.”
Her eyes were wide as she sputtered a denial. I squeezed her rounded posterior harder and saw the truth; she was responding to my touch. Her shallow breaths wrapped me in the scent of honeyed fruit. “A-are you going to t-take me to the torture dungeon?”
Torture dungeon? By the stars, it was almost impossible not to laugh. Vilkurn had repeated her comment about him being greedy for a collection of dungeons. She didn’t know it was true. He had many places where he wielded his craft, although he kept most of the spies and criminals he tortured at some distance from the castle proper.
“I might,” I drawled. “Unless I can think of a punishment that I can inflict here.” My gaze lingered on the rumpled coverlet.
Her eyes followed mine to the bed. “No. Not if you’re going to tell your friends about it.” She narrowed her eyes and grimaced. “I know I’m just a servant, but I’m not a whore.”
“No, sweetness,” I said, wondering where that had come from. “I don’t think that. No one here does.” Did she not have any idea how important she was? Could she not see how firmly Axe was wrapped up in her welfare, and Vilkurn, too? Goddess, even I found myself bristling at the thought of anyone calling my lass a whore. “You may not know how special you are, but you will soon.” I winked. “I think you’re beautiful, and unique, and very brave.”
“Brave?” That seemed to satisfy her. “I did slog through all those dark tunnels and tell my Axe about Selene… didn’t I?”
“You did.”HerAxe? Why did that one word make my gut churn? “You told us all, though it was too late for our king to escape her unscathed.” She sighed, but her body went lax in my arms, and her fragrance multiplied.
I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Now, about that punishment…”
She shuddered with what I hoped was anticipation. “Um, what sort of punishment did you have in mind?” A trace of curiosity tinged her quivering voice.
Moving to where a blanket had fallen from the bed, I slowly lowered her to the floor, pressing her knees on the soft cloth. Her small pink mouth was only inches from my growing erection. “I have a few ideas,” I murmured. Her lips formed a little pucker of surprise, and my eager cock practically jerked toward it. “Have you ever tasted a cock, lass?”
“A c-cock?” Her eyes fixed on the front of my pants, where my arousal was fighting to be released. This time she swayed toward it, as if hypnotized. “N-no.”
“Would you like to?”
“M-maybe,” she admitted. “I don’t know yet, do I?” Her dark eyes didn’t move above my waist. She bit her lip and blinked rapidly.
I hesitated, feeling a trace of guilt. “I could spank you instead.”
“No!” she shouted, and I pulled back. Something in her tone told me she meant what she said. “P-please don’t beat me.”
“Beat you, lass?” I seethed, thinking of who had beaten her to cause such a reaction. I stepped closer, cupping her chin, and lifting her face to look into my eyes. “I would never beat a precious, soft girl like you. I will never damage you or hurt you in any way.”
“Th-that’s what Vilkurn said,” she admitted.
