A Queen of Thieves & Chaos (Fate & Flame, #3)

And now I feel cornered in the middle of a room. “They’ve welcomed me.” I clear the shake from my voice as I edge away from his looming presence before daring to meet his gaze. He’s as polished as usual but the veneer doesn’t hide the stains beneath, at least not for me. “Joining the household has been a blessing for us.”

He steps closer, erasing the space I created. “You have a glow about you.” His cold eyes scour my face before sliding down my neckline, over my swollen chest, aching with the need to nurse.

My skin crawls, remembering all the times he’s looked at me like that, and what it always led to. “It’s called being fed.” I don’t know where these brazen words come from. I never had the nerve to speak to him with such acrimony before.

Rage flashes across his face, the likes of which I’ve seen many times, though I’ve never rightfully deserved. I brace myself for a backhand across my cheek, dreading the aftermath of the attention it will bring as I’m sprawled out on the floor, my afternoon’s work edible for no one but the swine anymore.

But Lord Danthrin seems to catch himself, stealing a glance toward the head table.

I follow suit, and my breath hitches.

The king watches us, his arms propped at the elbows, his lips pressed against his folded hands, hiding his expression from view.

“You are fortunate to have won His Highness’s favor, though I am not surprised. You do have more compelling skills than one might expect, buried beneath the flour and sugar and lard.”

I push away the images he’s conjuring in my mind, the tears threatening to spill along with the wave of revulsion.

“How are my children doing?” Lord Danthrin smooths his hand over his lapel. “Are you taking good care of them for me?”

I grit my teeth. “They are not your children.” Where is Fikar? He should be back by now. I glance frantically around, my focus landing on the king again.

He’s leaning over to say something in the male’s ear sitting next to him.

“Come now, Gracen.” Danthrin’s responding smile is vicious as he pulls my attention back. “Every one of those little bastards that sucks on your teats is breathing because of me. Because I found a male mortal willing to spill his seed into you until you succeeded in bearing fruit. They would not exist otherwise. And it cost me dearly.”

“I never asked for any of it.” If he paid anything, it was to those mortal men’s keepers, and the mortal men he brought forth weren’t particularly kind or gentle about their tasks.

“What you asked for or wanted is of no consequence. Do not get caught up in foolish thoughts like that. Then again, that is not your fault, given what you’re surrounded with. They’ve filled your head with nonsense, I can see. No bother, it will all be undone soon enough.” Glee sparkles in his wicked eyes. “Those offspring are mine, and once the wind changes direction around here”—his gaze wanders around the lords and ladies—“I will come back to claim them.”

Paralyzing fear seizes my heart. “I will never allow it.”

Deep laughter sails from his thin lips. “You will have no choice. As for what I should do with my dear, talented baker … You’re getting old and weathered. I haven’t decided if you’ve outlived your usefulness.” His fingers clamp over my chin, squeezing as they shift my face this way and that, as if sizing up my features. “Maybe I’ll let you beg me to take you back, or maybe I’ll tie you to a tree and leave you there, so you can imagine the ways I punish those children for your betrayal while you slowly die—”

“Danthrin, you’ve stalled the dessert from reaching the head table,” a deep voice interrupts. It’s the bearded male who sat beside the king only moments ago, receiving his whispers.

Lord Danthrin’s lips press together as he decides how polite he needs to be. A gaze toward the head table says he recognizes the man as seated at the king’s right hand, literally. “Surely, you’ve learned to address noblemen by their proper title, soldier?”

“Captain.” The male pulls an apple fritter off my platter and takes a bite. He mumbles around his mouthful, “Seems I missed that day in school.”

I decide I like him, whoever he is.

Fikar returns then, out of breath. “I got hung up.” With a curt nod toward the two men, he collects the platter from my grasp and whisks it away, leaving me empty-handed and itching to run from my previous keeper and his threats.

The captain scowls at Fikar’s back. “If I’d known he was going to do that, I would have grabbed more.”

“They are waiting for you at your seat.” Danthrin gestures toward it—an attempt to dismiss him.

“They’ll have to wait until I return from escorting the baker to the kitchen. Shall we?” He angles his arm for me to collect.

I hesitate, sneaking another glance. The king is in deep conversation with the blond, no longer paying attention to me. But he must have sent his friend to my rescue; there’s no other reason for it.

“Come, before they eat them all.” The captain nudges me with his elbow.

Tension courses through my body as my fingers curl around his powerful biceps.

“I’ll see you again soon,” Lord Danthrin calls out as I’m led away, his threat fading into the noise.

“Thank you,” I manage as we head toward the servants’ entrance.

“Thank the king. He noticed you needing an escape,” the captain says, his smile crooked. “I would have to say I agree. I believe I heard something about being tied to a tree?”

A part of me is disappointed that the king didn’t rescue me himself, but that would be silly to wish for. He is the king. “Lord Danthrin used to be my keeper before I came here, and he seems determined to be my keeper again.”

“Fortune has favored you, then. Gracen.”

I falter. Why does my name on his tongue sound like a warning?

“I’m Kazimir. The king entrusts me to know everyone and everything that goes on within these city walls as it relates to him. I’m a very important person. Surely, he’s mentioned me to you.”

“Uh …” I can’t tell if he’s joking. “No, but we’ve spoken little. Barely at all.”

The smirk on his face suggests otherwise.

The servants’ door is ahead. “Thank you, again, for your aid, and please, pass my gratitude on to the king—”

“What are you doing in here, Gracen?” All pretenses at humor and ease have evaporated. His arm tightens around my hand, trapping it against him.

“I’m sorry?”

“We have servants to run food and drink. You had no need to come here tonight, and you’ve never been here before.” He surveys the faces around us as we walk, lowering his voice. “You see, I not only keep tabs on goings-on, I am also very interested in identifying and removing all threats to my good friend. Even the most unsuspecting. You’ve heard by now the recent attempt on his life?”

I nod dumbly, wondering whether I’ve left one demon only to face another.

“So I would like to know why you would risk coming into the dining hall and subjecting yourself to the wrath of your previous keeper? Is it to catch a glimpse of the king?”

“No,” I sputter. That’s not why, though seeing his handsome face was not a hardship.