I grunted. “Get to the point, old man.”
The sun was already rising over the battlements. I should have been with Iris at dawn. I wanted to be with her. His words meant nothing to me.
“I need you to understand why you weren’t murdered along with your mother. I’m not sentimental, Randal, I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you. I’m pragmatic. I saw the opportunity in your existence. And since neither the former queen, nor your…friend, Queen Patara…has provided King Bramain with a legitimate heir, his death could be to your advantage, if we chose to make it so.”
“Give the job to someone else.”
“Ah, yes. One of your father’s thousand other sons, fathered out of wedlock. I’ll just send a flock of carrier pigeons and give the crown to whichever one shows up first, shall I?”
I stood and started to walk away. I wasn’t ready to listen to this shit.
“Randal,” he said, like he was calling his favorite stag hound to heel.
“I don’t want it,” I insisted, wanting to go but also wanting to put an end to this conversation. “Patara does. She would make a good queen.”
“She will never be queen, even if we wanted it. The very idea would plunge the kingdom into civil war. Every faction that believes it has a claim to the crown would be taking up arms to dethrone her. But work with me and we can protect her, give her the life of luxury a former queen deserves.”
I turned and met his eyes. I wanted to see a lie there, but all I saw was honesty. Was he a good enough liar to fool me? I doubted it. War hadn’t crossed my mind, but it made sense. A vacant throne, or one perceived to be weakly defended, would have the vultures circling.
“You would be a safe choice, Randal. Work with me and we can make the kingdom accept you as their new monarch. I can do that for you. And together we can protect Patara, and…” He hesitated, as if considering his next words, then nodded almost imperceptibly at the strategy forming in his head. “And I’m sure we can bring your milkmaid into the fold. Give her a title. Make her available to you--”
His words were cut short as my fingers wrapped around his throat and I lifted him clean off the bench. “How the fuck do you know about Iris? You touch a hair on her head, motherfucker, and I’ll kill you. I swear to every God in the sky…”
I was aware of movement to either side, Giles’ personal guards coming out of the woodwork to move against me. I didn’t care. I’d fight them all if I had to. To protect Iris I’d happily lay down my life.
Giles waved his hands dismissively at them. “Back off. Back off! Randal, please put me down. I promise I would never dream of harming anyone that you cared about.”
Still seething, I lowered him down, but kept my eyes fixed on his.
“I merely wanted to assure you of my friendship,” he said, straightening his collar. “It’s my job to know the goings on around here, of course I know about Iris. I think she’s a fine match, if you must know. I hate strategy marriages, so distasteful. Besides, I think your rule would be better categorized by peace and prosperity than intrigue and infighting. We’ve had quite enough of that. A good marriage to a minor noble nobody’s heard of would set the pace nicely.”
I stared at him, mulling his words. My rule. I didn’t want the throne, but if I could protect the kingdom from war, protect Patara from enemies she wasn’t even aware of and take Iris away from her father for good, just perhaps I could live with it.
“Take a few days to think it over,” Giles said, sticking out his hand. “When your father’s condition worsens, as it will, I’ll send for you again.”
Chapter 9
Iris
“Good girl.” Those two words echoed in my head from the moment Randal left me yesterday and all through the night. I barely slept, playing out my dreams and fantasies, feeling the way his lips and tongue set fire to my skin.
Good girl.
With his words, I felt a trickle of need run out between my legs, as I let my fantasy take flight, reaching out and down, running my fingertips along my intimate lips.
“Yes,” I said. “I want to be that for you.”
“Mine,” Randal growled, and held me as his teeth connected with my exposed nipple.
I drifted in and out of my waking dream, playing it out and doing things to myself I’d never done before until I found myself twisted into the bedsheets, my fingers drenched with my own juices. Even as I blushed, I smiled. The feelings confused me, yet I felt a sense of calm as well. The thought of giving up all control, of simply being Randal’s vessel, with his strength and oddly nurturing spirit protecting me, felt like heaven.