Page 29 of The King's Omega
His eyes devoured her, and I led him away from the bed before he could wake her. She was exhausted and injured and needed rest.
“Let’s leave her to sleep, Tarn, and I’ll tell you what I learned during our girl’s punishment. I have to go speak to my lieutenants soon, and you’ll need to pick up where I left off.”
His smile was full of dark mischief. “I’m all ears, brother.”
Vali
When I woke, my body still thrumming with remembered pleasure, there was no rude maid spilling royal secrets to be found. But also no Lorn. Only Mischief and me.
Humph. I didn’t much care for being left alone in a strange bed, but I supposed it was to be expected. I was just a servant. He had said I was beautiful, unique, and brave, though.
I tucked my head back into the sheet that smelled of Lorn: cinnamon and salt. He had touched me so gently, his turquoise eyes brimming with more than just lust, I thought. Maybe he did… like me. He had called me precious, after all.
The maid’s words came back to me as well. The king could have whatever he wanted? Well, he couldn’t have me, not if he couldn’t find me. I wasn’t going back to Madam, but I figured one insignificant servant could pass unnoticed in a castle this size.
I hunted through the room, finding my underskirts and corset in one corner. In a drawer, I found a few ladies’ garments. They were too long on me, and I was fairly certain they weren’t Lorn’s, as he was much bigger. But I refused to think of him having a lady visitor in his room often enough that she would keep her belongings here.
A lady who visited often wouldn’t be simply a maid, or a onetime fling. A growl rose from my belly. I must be hungry.
The clothing smelled like Lorn and no one was there to say I couldn’t take it, so I did. I also grabbed a pillowcase and fashioned a sort of mob cap over my dark curls. A little ash from the fireplace to stain my hands and a bit on my nose, and I appeared exactly as what I was: an anonymous, nondescript servant girl. I bundled up the sheets that were horrifyingly wet from my time with Lorn—I wasn’t certain what that was because I didn’t think I had peed—and carried them to the door.
The guard outside—a new one—looked at me askance. “Who’re you?”
“Maid, sir.” I dipped into a small curtsey. “Been cleanin’. Lot of mess in there. Took a bit.” He just grunted and motioned for me to go.
I guessed which way the laundry was and marched down the hall. A sweet page boy a few hallways down gave me directions when I explained I was new and didn’t want to get my ears boxed for being slow. A few minutes later, I was in the steaming laundry and tossed the sheets into a vat of boiling, soapy water.
“Who’re you then?” The tall, muscular, and terrifying laundry mistress demanded. She had the longest nose I’d ever seen on a woman, and gray hair pulled up tight. I cowered, making sure Mischief hid securely in my pocket.
“New girl, ma’am. But I’m a hard worker. Got these sheets to launder, and then I’ll do whatever you ask.” She gave me a narrow stare but let me get on with it. After a few hours, my back ached and my hands were raw, but the mistress decided I was a hard worker and handed me a sausage roll for my dinner, letting me sit on the back stoop to eat it. I tore off small bits to share with Mischief and wondered at my life.
For some, working as a laundry maid would be a step down. For someone like me, who’d been a virtual slave in a brothel her whole life, it was a dream come true. If I worked hard, I had a place to sleep—admittedly, a straw pallet on the floor by the drying racks—and two meals a day. The tang of lye and soap was so strong down here that I knew my scent wouldn’t affect anyone. No men worked in the laundry anyway, and especially no Alphas, so I didn’t have to worry aboutthatsort of thing.
Although, I had really enjoyed the punishments Vilkurn, Axe, and Lorn invented. I still couldn’t believe I had enjoyed it all so much; I’d witnessed interactions between men and women at the Sow, but I’d felt nothing. No attraction, nothing beyond a mild curiosity. Madam kept me hidden most of the time, especially after my scent had changed two years ago. She’d claimed I was dangerous to have around, and she had a point. When Alphas saw me, or smelled me, and couldn’t have me… well, some of the other girls had even gotten hurt by their fury. During evening and night hours, I’d stayed locked in the kitchen.
Of course, it hadn’t been until Selene had arrived, smelling of fruit and caramel at first, much like me, that anyone had thought to use me as a personal aphrodisiac. And while Madam had made a terrible fuss over it, Selene had agreed to give half her earnings for my exclusive services.
All that time, she had been a spy. It seemed peculiar to think that my scent had enabled her to gain access to the king and mate him. A small wave of guilt washed over me. Even if the king was mean, he did try hard to keep Rimholt safe. The stories about Verdan, and their treatment of women, were horrific. If they overran us, I would end up worse off than ever.
And they would kill the king.
My heart constricted. Why did that thought bother me so much? I told myself it was because they would also kill or imprison his generals.
I bore responsibility because I had let Selene use my scent to lure customers. She’d fished for one man but caught our entire kingdom on her wretched hook. If anyone discovered my part in it, I would be known as something far worse than a whore or a servant.
If Rimholt fell, it would be my fault. My tears fell on Mischief as I wept for my part in Selene’s perfidy. How could I make it right?
Vilkurn
“We’ve lost her,” Lorn announced, his mouth tight, eyes flinty.
He didn’t need to explain who he meant. “Where was she seen last?”
“The guard let a maid out of my room while Tarn and I spoke about… matters pertaining to the girl’s maturity. No one has seen her since.” His jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth. “I reprimanded the guard.”
“I’ll find her.” I had a thought. Not a thought I was particularly proud of, but I’d deal with the repercussions later. Our whole country was at stake, if Rigol didn’t pull his head out of his kingly ass. “Asher and Rigol should return tonight. I want you to take them to the tunnel outside my room.”
“The one with the viewing panel?” His eyebrow rose. “The—what was it—not-a-torture dungeon?”
