Page 29 of Prize for the King
I can stay the way I was back home and aggravate myself and everyone around me.
Or I can adapt.
I take a shaky breath, terrified and a little excited about the prospect of breaking such a fundamental rule of my upbringing. But there is no more Avinia to beat my hands or lock me up in the cellar.
And didn’t the worst already happen? I am married to the Agnidari Tyrant and riding off to live with him forever. I’ll have to lie with him and give him children. What could be worse thanthat?I already received my punishment.
Maybe it’s time to start sinning so it’s worth it.
“Stay,” I say with a nod. “And… Yes, turn away. Maybe think about ways to deal with my hair, because it’s horrible after it got wet yesterday.”
Khay huffs, fingering a loose lock by my ear. My hair is a halo of frizzy strands puffed up around my head, a result of sleeping with a wet head, but he doesn’t seem to hate it.
“It looks like you spent the night rolling in the sheets,” he says with a small smirk. “I’d love to leave it like this, but then Magnar will lose it. Very well. I’m turning away and promise not to look unless you ask for my help.”
I take a deep breath, make sure he’s facing the door, and start to undress. My heart hammers with nerves and a giddy sort of elation. For the first time in my life, there’s a man in my room while I’m naked, and I think I trust him.
Maybe today won’t be that bad if I have Khay by my side.
IX Celibacy
“You’ll ride with Raduna today,” Magnar says when I sit down next to him in the dining hall of the castle.
My hair is braided thanks to Khay’s crafty fingers. He did turn out to be shockingly good at handling it, but then, he’s had a lifetime of learning on his own long mane. In the end, my hair was the only thing he helped with. I’m wearing his underwear.
“Good morning to you, too,” I mutter, taking in the room.
It’s simple, built of gray stones and sparsely furnished. Its only beautiful feature are the windows, their tops ending in graceful arches decorated with colored glass. It’s light enough to see the silhouettes of spruces swaying outside.
Three long tables are laden with simple foods like bread, cheese, cold cuts, and bowls of porridge. Most of our riding party sits at two, while one table seems to be reserved for Magnar, me, and his knights. The red-haired Raduna raises his arm when I look at him and goes right back to eating.
I take him in, unease swirling in my belly. Raduna is almost as tall as Khay, and he ismuchlarger. Magnar and the other knights are lean, their muscles visible but not bulging. Raduna is built like an ox, with a thick neck and enormous arms that look like they could wield a siege ram all on their own.
His face is soft, though. Rounded cheeks, round chin, and a noble nose above full lips make him seem kind. Like a gentle giant. The effect is slightly marred by a patchwork of scars on the lower half of his right cheek. It’s red and uneven.
His hair is gathered into a multitude of braids that cascade down his back. It’s not red in the human sense, but rather—burgundy like the color of late autumn wine. He’s wearing a black leather vest that leaves his muscular arms bare, and he eats fast, heaping more meat onto his plate as he goes.
“Like what you see?” Magnar asks, a hostile note in his voice. “Good. A queen should enjoy her knights.”
He stabs a piece of meat with his fork so viciously, I flinch. But I don’t care about his moods enough to ask what’s wrong, so I focus on serving myself. I pour tea into a large clay mug and ladle some porridge onto my plate.
It’s delicious, thick with nuts and dried fruit, and I eat with appetite, surprisingly enjoying myself. Hardly anyone speaks. The Agnidari are too busy eating, for which I’m grateful. I prefer quiet mornings.
Outside, the sky brightens steadily with the coming dawn.
When Magnar pushes his plate away and leans back with a pleased sigh, I decide to risk a question.
“Why won’t I ride with you?”
His silver eyes grow hooded as he gives me a long, penetrating look. Thankfully, his former bad mood seems to be gone. Maybe he was just hungry. I kind of like the way he looks at me now, curious and attentive.
His hair is loose and looks so soft, I have a brief urge to touch it. I’ve never seen a man with hair so white before him, nor one with long hair—before the Agnidari. It’s shockingly… not repulsive.
“Because you drive me up the wall, darling,” he says in a voice sotender, it belies his taunting words. “I am quite sore from having to take matters into my own hand last night, and I barely slept. Another day like yesterday will kill me.”
I frown, not understanding half of what he says. Magnar huffs with amusement and strokes my cheek with his knuckle, leaning in until our faces are almost level. I gasp and stop breathing. There are tiny ice blue flecks in his silver irises, and his lashes are dark and curled.
“I see you’re confused. I meant, sweetheart, that riding with you made me so horny, I had to stroke my cock repeatedly to get some relief, and it barely helped. My skin is raw, and it hurts. Doing it with my hand isn’t half as pleasant as coming inside a warm, wet pussy.”
