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Her hands fiddle with the low-cut bodice of her dress, and I notice the guard behind her. He doesn’t look at all concerned that the two of us nearly butted heads coming around the corner. In fact, he doesn’t do much other than let his eyes stray to Rissa’s cleavage. At least Scofield and Lowe don’t ogle me that way. Granted, I do break my corsets every time I put one on, so my boobs don’t look nearly as perky and full as hers, but still.

Rissa’s cool assessment crawls over my face. “You’re looking better.”

I brush a palm over my cheek that’s still slightly bruised and swollen. “Yeah,” I say simply. She never asked what happened, and I didn’t offer up the information. But she knows. Women always do.

“Come to visit again?” she asks as she continues to walk in the direction away from the saddles’ rooms.

The presence of the guards makes my words careful. “Yes, I was hoping we could chat.”

“Well, I’m not in the saddle wing as you can see, but you’re welcome to join me.”

I shoot a look over at the guard before facing forward again, the sound of Rissa’s heels clicking against the marble. “Oh, are you...umm. You’re not going to an appointment, are you?”

She snorts and shoots me a derisive look. “No, I haven’t been called to go fuck someone, Auren,” she replies dryly.

“Well, I thought it prudent to check...”

I can practically hear Rissa’s blue eyes roll in their sockets. “Do you think I would really invite you to watch me get ridden?”

“Wouldn’t be my first offer.”

A reluctant laugh trundles out of her. “True. I used to hate when he made you watch.”

This surprises me. “Really?”

“Of course,” she says as we turn another corner, heading to a part of the castle I haven’t been to yet. “Do you think any of us enjoyed it?”

“Polly did,” I answer without hesitation. “She liked that I was stuck behind bars while the king...well. Just believe me when I say it amused her.”

“Maybe, but not me. Having the king’s gold-touched favored watching, judging, seeing everything...” She shakes her head. “I hated it. Hated you.”

She says it without venom, just stating facts.

“And now?”

Rissa looks over at me. “Now what?”

“You don’t hate me now.”

There’s a narrowing of her eyes. “I tolerate you.”

“You’re so warm and fuzzy.”

I catch the slightest quirk of her lips as she smiles. Just a flash, and then it’s gone, but it makes my distracted, weary soul feel lighter.

“We’re here.” She stops in front of a door where a second guard is stationed just outside, sitting on a stool with a toothpick balanced on his bottom lip.

“Where’s here?” I ask, looking at the unfamiliar door. “What are you doing?”

Rissa arches a blonde brow and smirks at me. “I’m here to visit Mist.”

Mist.

As in, the saddle who has tried to claw my eyes out on more than one occasion. The woman who publicly cuts me down with verbal hate. The woman who’s pregnant with Midas’s illegitimate child.

I actually back up a step, eyes gone wide as saucers. “What? You know I can’t go in there!” I hiss.

“That’s too bad. If you don’t come in there with me, we won’t be able to chat, and believe me, I have some very juicy gossip,” she says pointedly.


Tags: Raven Kennedy The Plated Prisoner Fantasy