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Curse me for not recognizing that hectic look of desire earlier. I’d beheld it from Lord Peyton’s bride before my head vanished under her skirt and my tongue sank into her cunt. Then a week hence, Lord Peyton himself as I wrapped my lips around his cock and sucked the marital stress out of him.
what dat sinful tongue do? 🥴🥴🥴
In any event, I couldn’t do this here. I couldn’t reject Eliot whilst bubbles swarmed all over the fucking place.
Besides, my heart was spoken for. I had room there for only one person.
BRIAR GETTING REJECTED 70+ PAGES INTO THE BOOK; AND IN A MONOLOGUE NO DOUBT WAS NOT IN MY 2024 BINGO CARD
“Good evening, Princess,” I said, then mouthed, I’ve missed you.
briar stronger than me because I would have shown the whole of Spring a spectacle they wouldn't have ever forgotten
Briar placed her hand over his, unable to meet his gaze.
okay but briar and Eliot's friendship is just so precious? like, where can I meet such a sweet pure yapper like Eliot? asking for a friend 😭
That I wondered what she thought of my choices created a sour taste in my mouth.
I had one of those, too. To that end, I wouldn’t react any differently than she, if I suspected a stranger of taking advantage. I’d rip them to pieces without a second thought.
“I don’t care what these people think!” she snapped, her voice shaking like a leaf. “And I don’t care what you think. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am who I am. If that’s not enough, too bad.”
beautiful. yassss queen slay
My story, the anyone in it, wouldn’t count to her.
Applause. Because sometime between last night’s hall and this night’s garden, she found her nerve. And I lost mine.
I touched the Court Jester. I don’t trust him. I miss Father. I miss home. I miss you.
The sunken dens, the libraries and universities, and the medical halls. Scholars, scribes, and hunters.
rip Dottore you would have loved Winter
in a deep green coverlet and a coordinating
The vision tugged at a dormant spot in my chest. ’Twas best to ignore that and focus on being pissed off.
The tip of something sharp jabbed between my legs. Glancing down, I was treated to the sight of a hoof pick strategically aimed at my cock. Based on the angle, the head would go first.
“You are a wordsmith, therefore a liar. I know what your tongue is capable of.” And I knew an opportunity when I heard it. I prowled forward, lowered my voice, and let the words drizzle down her skin. “Now, now,” I husked. “You haven’t begun to learn what my tongue can do.”
briar sweetie you literally fell into that one. not very cute, not very demure
I savored this precious reaction, so fetching to behold. Unfortunately, the sudden image of Briar’s parted thighs flanking my head and the taste of her climax on my tongue inserted itself into my brain. My cock jumped, thankfully without her noticing. I ground my teeth, because since when have I ever teased a woman or man whilst losing control of myself in the process?
The prospect of her standing beside the mattress, close to my sheets where I spent my nights naked, appealed to me more than it should. Just like everything else about her.
She had waylaid my evening, kept me from the one beloved thing I anticipated all week—every week—and gotten us stranded.
Why do you hate Spring? Why do you distrust this Season? Why won’t you let anyone in? What are you afraid of?
Who did this to you?
AYOOOOOOOOOOO
I made damn sure to keep my expression blank. He died the same night?
I wasn’t used to feeling inadequate or unwanted. Worse, the vision of her curled up in the ruins—a child without a father—caught me by the throat.
“What do you mean, ‘a new person’?” I asked, because it didn’t sound okay to me. Matter of fact, it sounded all sorts of wrong.
“I am a princess,” she clipped. “I cannot afford to be myself.” “In that case, you could have at least gotten creative and shapeshifted int...
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Splendid. We were back to criticizing my methods.
Indeed, my contempt will be legendary.”
I pictured a little pair of eyes, greener than mine. Soon enough, those eyes would peek outside a window and alight. They would wait for me to arrive, unaware I wasn’t coming.
oh great thanks crying wasn't in my to-do list today
I should have apologized to the leenix, too. The poor creature was only hungry. Had I harmed it fatally? Would the animal live?
a kind heart
I remember her whimpers against my throat. Oh, how I remember.
She’d taken the pain like a warrior, laughed at my racy joke like a nymph, and then swooned like a princess. Such a relief, for each time she unleashed into the spoon’s handle, I had gripped her tighter and cursed fate.
I had hated seeing her in pain. But I’d enjoyed making her laugh.
It hadn’t been a chore to comfort her. Indeed, the latter had been a privilege. For a moment, knowing Briar needed me felt as extraordinary and agonizing as being needed by Jinny and Nicu.
I loved it all. I loved all of my son.
A pity, indeed. For the trio of humans and fauna made a fetching sight, filling this room with their steady breathing.
They deserved better. They deserved a palace.
“He’s yours, all right. Trying to charm the maidens the minute he sees them,”
The jester jewels weren’t going anywhere.
THE JESTETR JEWLSS LMAOOO
“She lasted a while before keeling over. Much better than you. The day you survive a splinter is the day I become a sorceress.” My eyes slitted. “Let’s not exaggerate.”
My elbow hit the table as I pointed at her. “That part never happened.”
“You mind this. What happened was out of your control. You’d as soon battle an army of leenixes to be here.”
This was the story no one at court knew. I had a son, a radiant son for whom I’d willingly rest my neck on the executioner’s block.
Those green irises proved the infant was mine. He didn’t know me yet, but he’d gurgled a laugh and extended a pair of chubby arms, demanding to be held. Henceforth, the little one owned me.
My son had a giant heart.
At court, I lived a lavish and influential life. In secret, I worried. Nay, terror seized me with every cursed breath I drew.
I couldn’t deny my pride at his storytelling abilities. However nonsensical, they surpassed mine.
But always, Nicu’s precious traits, all the good of him, outweighed the rest. He was my everything, my musical fae—feisty and funny, bright and imaginative. A treasure, not a trial.
The jester craned his head at me. “He’s my heartbeat. He’s my greatest achievement.” He narrowed his eyes, slitting them like blades, and his voice sliced through the room. “He’s mine.”
CHILLS. FUCKING. CHILLS.
“My opinion? A fool is a man who believes glory can be found at the tip of a sword instead of on the tip of his tongue. ’Tis a person who judges with their eyes closed. ’Tis people who invent aberrations from speculation and rumors. ’Tis bred from ignorance. That is life’s cruel trick.
I have no qualms with the Royals except for this one thing, and therefore, I have a thousand qualms with them. They want my stories, but not my son’s.”
