Masked (Royally Hot 2)

“We’re going to lie to them?”

“We’re not going to lie to them. The things you’ve been through when I wasn’t around to protect you? I’ve known hundreds of heroes in my lifetime, and all of them would have been broken by what you suffered. When I found out, I was furious. No boy should have been put through that, and particularly not the future ruler of the kingdom. You slew a dragon to save a damsel in distress, and now there’s a witch who requires your attention. I hope your reign will be peaceful, but even in peacetime there are plenty of threats for a hero to vanquish.”

I pressed my lips into a line. All I wanted was to be away from there, to be back with Iris.

Giles rolled his eyes. “If you must know, I think you’re rather handsome. So will the ladies in that room and any of the men who are of my persuasion.”

“You’re…?”

“Oh, come on, prudishness doesn’t suit you. I’ve had my moments. One day, I might even introduce you to someone very dear to me in Aramoor City. But if you don’t enter that room when you’re announced I’ll—”

“My liege lords and ladies, your attention please!” The herald bellowed. “All rise for Prince Randal, son of the king!”

Chapter 18

Iris

I waited and waited for Randal to return.

I finished my wine and apricots, and then I wandered around the dungeon. I walked carefully over the meticulously-polished stone floor, stepping gingerly because my hips and body were so sore from being ravaged again and again. I ran my fingers over all the things he’d used on me, all the places he’d had sex with me…and looked with nervous anticipation at the many things we hadn’t yet done.

There were feathers and gags, waxed cord, and leather—so much gorgeous, new leather. Thinking back to what we had done brought a blush into my cheeks and a rush between my legs. I had never felt so loved, so cared for, so cherished.

He is mine and I am his, forever.

I ran my fingers over the bruises on my body and twisted and looked down to the best one of all—a mark on my right hip of Randal’s right hand, all five fingertips and his thumb, a deep plummy-purple bruise on my bottom.

All my thoughts of him did nothing except make me more impatient for him to return. Useless to think of anything else, there in that room, where we had done so much already.

I lifted my fingers to touch the tender spot on my throat, in what the old ladies called the vampire spot, was a love bite that Randal had given me the night before. The memory rushed back as if it was happening all over again, the way he’d devoured my skin like a starving man.

The thought of it made me groan with pleasure as I splashed my face with cool water from the basin against the wall. But as I dried myself, a noise jolted me out of the luscious memories. I paused to listen. At first, my heart leapt at the thought of Randal returning. But it didn’t sound to me like his footfalls. Not at all. Instead, it sounded like a scuffle. A fight. I froze with the soft towel pressed to my cheek. A yell, a clank of a sword, a clatter of armor and a guttural cry.

Oh no.

As silently as I could, I made my way to the door through which Randal had left, trying hard not to let the sound of my feet hitting the stone give me away. Though the bolt was huge and old, it slid easily aside. I peeked out into the well of the spiraling staircase, but saw nothing out of place, nobody injured or hurt.

“Hello?”

“You’re in for it now missy!”

Another voice, weaker this time: “Bastard!”

I heard a cry, and a moment later a man came clattering down the stairs, rolling from step to step, with a knife sticking out of his leg. I yelped and stepped back, half expecting him to get up and come for me, but he just lay there, silent, with his neck at an odd angle.

What is happening?

The weak voice came again. “Iris. Stay down there.”

No. No, I couldn’t. I didn’t know what was going on but I had to find out.

I was naked; I knew I had to cover myself before I went any further. Trembling, I searched the room for my things, but didn’t find them. And then saw a neat pile of simple clothes in the corner. I finger-combed my messy hair as best I could and slid into the skirt. It may have been plain, rather than showy, but it was soft as silk and fit me perfectly. I slipped on the shoes, and a cotton blouse with sleeves that billowed and narrowed, and then left the dungeon and ran up the small stairway, avoiding the body laying still at the bottom.