07

Chapter Six

Toros Dreadsong gripped the table tightly between his fingers.

All day. All fucking day he'd barely gotten to see his wife. That was not love but more of a possession that seemed to overtake him when she was near. Call it obsession but he was not in love with her.

She was carrying his child and would have many more of his offspring, of his heirs. Even now, the thought struck him hard and in need of release. He had to get to her, had to drink from her soft flesh as she fought beneath him. Yes, the hunt was what stirred his loins. She had been a feisty one, a conquest worth repeating over and over again. Virgin still intact, his wedding night had been one full of an immeasurable amount of pleasure.

For him.

Velorina had cowered away from him the second night and every night after. He had long suspected her of taking certain herbs to quell the conceiving of a child until two years into their consummation. She had turned up pregnant one day. Which was all thanks to his doing considering he had gotten rid of all herbs known to prevent pregnancy from his keep.

King Cassius was droning on and on about something or other having to do with the borders. What in the gods' balls was he worried about? Massive walls surrounded the kingdom and those dark towers could keep anything out.

Well, anything except-

"By gods, Cassius, you have this place more protected than you do your own heart!" Velorina exclaimed, tapping his chest plate with her thumb. She had the other hand on his arm in a playful manner. "

Nothing

will get through those barriers!"

The rest of the royals nodded in agreement.

"What do you think, Lord Toros?" The king turned towards him, his goblet to his lips, the monarch familial ring adorning his middle finger. It was made of solid stone, black from being scorched in a Dragh's fiery breath. Passed down from generation to generation, it honestly an outdated thing. There was no more use for it. The king before Cassius had used it to imprint terror among those who disagreed with him, burning it before pressing the face into the forehead of an enemy.

Toros gulped down the bread he had in his mouth. "I believe you have a solid fortitude, your highness," he smiled, revealing his sharp teeth.

The king grunted in answer.

"Oh, please," Velorina squeaked. She was the only one allowed to speak to the monarch in such a way for he held a soft spot for her. And that was why Tors was a

very

fortunate lord in the matter. She hadn't touched her goblet because that would be bad for the babe and he knew for sure that he wanted a bouncing, healthy heir. It had better be a boy at that, too. The Dreadsongs only produced males. "Those things are atrocious, Cassius and you know it. Hardly any visitors come to Ieslal save for the regular merchants because they are frightened."

The king cocked a brow and shrugged. "And that is of my concern?"

The other royals were now tuning in to the conversations, as if they already hadn't. Nosy lot of them. Scandals and rumors were all they cared for, nary worried about politics or real issues. Toros ignored the urge to roll his eyes heavenward as their greedy eyes swiveled upon the king. They wanted to possess the throne for themselves, but Toros would not let them.

He was a higher lord considering he had married the king's sister, thankful for the previous laws set in stone so King Cassius couldn't annul the marriage. King Riynor was very smart, indeed. He knew betrothing Lord Toros and his eldest daughter would tie lands so, he made those vows untouchable and unbreakable. Hence why King Cassius could not halt the union, he couldn't tear apart the doomed couple.

For that, Toros was extremely grateful.

He looked down upon the other royals and hissed at them, warning the rather large, fat Broslan sitting next to Toros. The overweight Broslan most likely owned some land in the farthest reaches of Ieslal and, from the looks of it, a few brothels scattered here and there considering no viable female would fuck him.

A peculiar scent struck Toros and he turned his nose towards it, blue eyes narrowing. The blood beneath the skin was oddly sweet smelling and it reminded him of his younger years, back before politics were thrusted upon his life. Back before he grew to be cold and non-compassionate. Back before the idea to control Ieslal struck his mind. Yes, the scent called out to his inner being and made him swell with a deep need of want.

He

must

taste her.

Chapter Seven

Devyn's hands were raw from scrubbing the metal platters.

Forced to use harsh soaps, her skin could no longer take the treatment she was made to give them. She sighed and straightened her back, hearing the joints crack as she did so. Her body was beginning to ache from being stooped over the low basin, trying to clean the numerous dishes the royals had practically destroyed. Some even still bore whole pieces of food! So wasteful, these miserably highborn were.

She scowled and shook her head, wondering if she were noble would she be like them. Would she be vapid and vain? Or daft and delusional? They weren't all bad, to be completely honest.

The king's sister was quite nice but also a little odd especially with the way she had grabbed Devyn's arm earlier. It wasn't that she's not appreciative of the attention or even compassion but it was the way the king had looked at her. Almost as if she were dirt smudged on the toe of his boot. The way his silver eyes peered into her violet ones made her shudder. But why did this bother her so? Did she really need the approval of a king, let alone a Broslan? Or was it the fact that he was someone she could never have? That thought came unbidden swiftly and she pushed it back to the dark recesses of her mind. She wasn't allowed to think like that because, well, she was stuck in his castle and would never be happy. Oh, the woes of living the life of a slave.

Once she was finished with the dishes, she went back to the corner with the other slaves to await more orders. She tried not to fidget with the cracked skin lining the backs of her hands. Before she was a slave, her hands had been softer albeit not highborn soft but still, smoother than they were now.

"You, slave girl," a gritty voice called out to the group.

They all glanced up at the same time. Chazen stood before them and motioned for Devyn to come. Chains clinking and binding her wrists, she did as she was told.

The Broslan grinned a toothy smile before he winked at her. "Got a special job in mind for ye," he laughed and pushed Devyn towards the back doors of the kitchens. She had never been this way and wondered why she was headed in this direction.

They went down a narrow hall, namely a servant's way so as not to be seen, that ended on the other side of the dining room. Sort of like a seating area, there were several plush chairs scattered throughout with only one patron sitting in the middle of them. This was an opulent area, a room looking like it could belong in someone's home rather than a castle with the warm painted walls and tall paintings. Candelabras created a soft glow that lit up the lone face of the male Broslan smirking at her.

Devyn's heart sped up at the prospect of this Broslan. He had been seated at the left hand of the king earlier that night, next to the pregnant wench, his stance strangely protective of her. Almost possessively if Devyn thought better.

He wore a royal getup, fine blue tunic with a black, floor length jacket and bell sleeves. Gold trimmed the hems and he sported green breeches tucked into tall boots. He looked positively western and disheveled. In the city of the kingdom, most higher born wore cleaner styles but still kept in the same fashions. And by the gods, he was even handsome! What, with his strong jawline and fierce, cerulean eyes, he could charm any female into bed with him.

So, why was she here, face to face with a royal?

She bowed slightly, knowing her place and kept her face down, glancing at the thick brown carpet. It felt great against her bare feet. A nice change of comfort from the always cold stone flooring.

"Pray tell, what is your name, slave?" He hissed, his voice sounding like a Dragh's. He accentuated his s's for some reason and Devyn didn't much like that.

"D-Devyn," she whimpered, feeling suddenly afraid. Almost distraught but not quite.

A slow smile spread across his thick lips. This Broslan wasn't inbred like most royals of Ieslal were. Devyn could tell he came from a promising lineage of silver-tongued devils and knew she would be one of his victims if she were not careful. "Devyn," he whispered and a chill swept over her body, sending her nerves into overdrive. "I am Lord Toros, brother-in-law to King Cassius." He paused and looked around.

Devyn did too. What was he doing? "My lord?"

He turned back to her and shook his head. "You have the most unusual eyes," he said as he stood up to his full stature. He could very well tower over her short frame and that made Devyn even more wary.

She tried to take a step back when he came upon her, his front to her front, mashing their bodies together. She could feel his evident desire and gasped when he reached up to roughly grope her breast over her raggedy dress. Granted, this wasn't the first time she had ever been in this predicament but, it never got any easier. "You-you have a w-wife, my lord," she muttered when he tried to bring his lips to hers.

He growled and slapped her. She cried out and gritted her teeth. Her life was worth this. Should she tamp down her pride to allow him to force her? Or, should she stomp her foot and shove him off?

Before she could decide, Lord Toros gripped her waist in a vice-like grip and shoved her back against the wall. Chazen sidestepped them and only howled in laughter when Lord Toros acquired his goal of kissing her. Devyn kept her lips closed so his probing tongue would not be granted entrance.

When his hands pulled up her knee-length gown to probe at her most private part, her mouth opened and he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Startled, she bit down on it and tasted blood. He groaned in pain and rocked her body against the wall. Her head snapped back and she saw stars appear behind her closed eyelids. Lord Toros's tongue was still within her mouth and his fingers were still in her.

Discomfort lanced through her sex as his nails scraped against the sensitive areas. He pressed further into her, nearly touching her womb, and moaned at her trying to get his invading fingers out.

"You feel...gods, I can't describe it," he mumbled against her mouth.

Devyn took the opportunity to close her lips so he couldn't taste her again.

When he finally pulled back, he grinned and a low chuckle formed in his chest. Dear lords, this was the epitome of evil staring her right in the face.

"Chazen!" He barked. "Bring her to my quarters and have her ready," he commanded.

Devyn watched in horror as he tore a piece of dress from the bottom to bind her wrists behind her back. He then adjusted himself in his trousers to hide his obvious infidelity and pushed her towards Chazen who pulled and dragged her up two flights of stairs before he kicked her into a nice-sized chamber. A comfortable bed occupied the middle while lavish rugs and throws were strewn about in a careless manner. This was where he was supposed to be with his expecting wife but instead, he brought her to his room. She knew why but could only inhale deeply when she closed her eyes.

And Devyn knew that a fresh hell awaited her once she heard the door click shut behind her.