The loud rumbles continued on in quick succession, sending Mirabelle and I scrambling toward the walls as a commotionsounded in the hallway. Muffled orders grew louder as they approached. Mirabelle and I clung to each other, her tiny frame shaking in my arms as we waited to see if whomever was in the hallway would simply pass us by.
Mirabelle shrieked when the door was kicked in. Guards poured into the room—sun glinting off their drawn blades and polished armor. Mirabelle stepped in front of me, steeling herself for whatever came next.
“How dare you enter the ladies’ chambers while she is preparing herself! Have you no decency?” she snapped.
“There’s been a change of plans,” a male grumbled as he stepped forward. A badge marked him as captain. “The king’s moved up the execution ceremony now that all the prisoners have arrived. He’s called for the girl. So ready or not, she’s coming with us.”
What did he mean, all the prisoners have arrived? Another blast shook the room, and I shuddered.
“This is no way to treat a lady,” Mirabelle spat. “If the king wants her, he should escort her himself.”
“The king is preoccupied, and I’m growing tired of your insolence. Stand aside, or I will pull you aside. Your choice.”
“It’s okay, Mirabelle. Now is as good a time as any,” I said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and gently eased her aside.
The captain inspected me, lingering at the low neckline where my breast threatened to spill over. His smirk soured into a scowl when he noticed my ruined dress.
“I’ll see that you’re assigned a more… thorough lady’s maid in the future. But you’ll have to do. Earlic!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I need your seed. The king wants it to look real.”
The guard in question bowed curtly, his cheeks flushing crimson before he dropped his pants. He began jerking off while the others waited. What in the bloody hell was going on?
“We haven’t got all day, Earlic!” the captain barked. The male picked up his pace, flogging himself in wild abandon. I only looked away when his hungry gaze settled on me and my stomach turned. He let out a groan, and the sick sound of slapping finally ceased.
“About time,” the captain said, striding toward me. He grabbed my skirts, yanking them up.
“What are you doing? Don’t fucking touch me!” I protested as I tried to pull away. His free hand captured my wrist and squeezed until I cried out.
“Easy now. Earlic just needs to add the finishing touches. Be a good girl and stop fighting.”
Panic clawed at my throat.
Earlic knelt before my nakedness. One large hand forced my thighs apart, while the other wiped his cum between my thighs and over my sex. I wanted to vomit. I could feel my stomach turn on me as the warmth of it dripped down my thighs—all I could do was wretch as my body trembled.
“Those bastards will smell him on her from a mile away. The king will be pleased,” he said as he stepped back.
The captain dropped my skirts as a sob crept up my throat. I’d been defiled. Even though he hadn’t forced himself on me, I felt violated. I swallowed down the tears with every ounce of courage I could muster. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
The captain took one last appraising look as though he were assessing livestock for slaughter, before turning on his heels and heading for the door. “We’re late. Seize her and let’s be off.”
Two guards came at me, grabbed me around my middle and hoisted me off the ground. “Put me down! Now!” I kicked and flailed, but it was useless. I was no match for them. My own vulnerability and the sticky mess between my legs gutted me to my core.
The Crown’s guard delivered me to an enormous vestibule. Beams of light poured in from impossibly high skylights. A set of large wooden doors were the only thing that stood between me and my beasts. I could hear the din of the crowd, and a shiver ran down my spine. What was happening out there? The blasts had finally stopped—or perhaps we’d reached a part of the castle where we could no longer hear them. I’d stopped fighting, choosing to conserve what little strength I had left for whatever might come next.
Johan stood at the center of his entourage. A gangly valet preened over him, adjusting a gaudy golden crown that was far too large for his head.
“Simply marvelous, Your Highness. The way the new crown sits upon your head is absolutely splendid. No one will notice your limp. The healers have done a masterful job. Once you place the Bloodstone Sigil on your finger, no one will be able to deny your status,” the valet gushed.
“Yes, yes, that’ll do, Hysserion,” Johan said, waving him off as he pulled a necklace from under his doublet. A thick ring hung at the end of the chain. He eyed the band—the infamous ring of power—rubbing at the red blisters encircling his finger. With a deep breath, he slipped it over the angry skin. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and sweat beaded on his brow. The ring was affecting him. And not in a good way. But what did it mean?
“Your Highness,” the captain called. “I’ve brought the human, sir.”
He dragged me forward until I stumbled. His bruising grip was the only thing keeping me from falling on my face. Everyone in the vestibule fell silent as I straightened, making a show of smoothing the ink stains on my dress.
The sneer on Johan’s face when he saw me was worth whatever punishment he had in mind. “What’s the meaning of this?” His eyes flicked from one guard to the next.
“This is how we found her, Your Highness. And due to the urgency of your request, we didn’t want to keep you waiting. The lady’s maid has been relieved of duty. Everything else has been done to your specifications.”
“Those damn peasants are completely useless.” Johan strode toward me, a thick velvet cape trailing behind him. “Lift her dress.”
