Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

Untouched Queen By Royal Command

Автор
Год написания книги
2019
<< 1 ... 4 5 6 7 8 9 >>
На страницу:
8 из 9
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

‘Does this book have a name?’

‘The King’s Assassin. It was one of my favourites. Why?’

No one had ever read it to him. ‘I currently have the Lady Sera Boreas, daughter of Yuna, Order of the Kite, staying in the round room. She arrived last week, as a gift from the people of the High Reaches.’

Silence from Moriana the Red, whose temper, once roused, was also the stuff of legend, and then, ‘Say that again?’

‘There is a courtesan here in the palace and at my service. Yesterday, six truckloads of priceless antiquities turned up. They belong to the Order of the Kite and can only be seen when a courtesan is in residence here. Now do I have your attention?’

‘Did you say priceless antiquities?’

‘Focus, Moriana. There is a pet concubine in the round room. No—did you just squeal? Don’t squeal. Invite her to stay with you. Keep her. Show her the whips. No! Don’t show her the whips. I take that back. But find out what she’s doing here. Can you do that?’

‘Does she have books?’ his sister asked. ‘I bet she has history books with her as well. Do you know what this means?’

It probably meant Moriana was about to try and organise an exhibition of antiquities native to courtesans. ‘It means I have a problem that I don’t know how to solve yet. What exactly am I supposed to do with this woman?’

‘Is she beautiful? They were reputedly all rare beauties.’

‘That bit’s true.’

‘Is she smart?’

‘I would say so, yes. Also cunning and completely unfathomable.’ Keeping her distance and rousing his curiosity, making her presence felt all the more keenly by the simple act of staying out of his way. ‘I need you to come here and see what she wants. Befriend her. Gain her confidence. Tell me what she wants.’

‘I can be there in a week.’

‘I meant today,’ he countered.

‘Can’t. I have a luncheon at twelve, a charity meeting at two, hospital tour at three and then I’m having a private dinner with my beloved husband who I’ve barely seen all week.’

‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I’ll send the helicopter for you.’

‘Or you could talk to her yourself and find out exactly what this woman can do for you. Can she act as a social secretary, for example? Can she organise the Winter Solstice ball? Courtesans of old were muses, strategists, women of great influence. Think Madame de Pompadour or Theodora from the Byzantine empire. She might be one of those. Give her something to do. Apart from you, obviously.’

‘She is not doing me,’ he ground out.

‘Has she offered?’

She’d arrived wearing a collar and manacles, amongst other things. She’d called herself a courtesan and then she’d ignored him. ‘Who the hell knows?’

‘Do you—okay, you know what? Never mind, because there are some things sisters simply shouldn’t know. Give her the Winter Solstice ball to oversee. I’m serious. Put her to work. See if she truly wants to be of use to you.’

‘I’d rather she left.’

‘But why? You need a social secretary who wants to do a good job and isn’t inclined to sell us out. Talk to her. See what she wants from her role and from you. Your goals might align.’

‘What if she doesn’t want to be here at all?’

‘Then you’ll work together to find a way out of this. But not before I’ve seen all the art and persuaded her to let us photograph and document it, where possible. I can’t wait to see it.’

Augustus sighed. Theo really was a bad influence on his sister, who’d once dutifully dedicated herself to serving the Arunian monarchy. These days she shone a light on the already glittering Liesendaach crown and Augustus sorely missed her attention. He did need someone to replace his sister. Someone with a personal stake in taking on the role and making it their own. A wife…he’d been thinking of it. Not doing anything about it, mind, but thinking that soon he would start looking in earnest. Meanwhile, he had a…courtesan…at his disposal. Whatever that meant. Maybe they could renegotiate her job description.

‘All right.’ There was nothing else for it. ‘I’ll talk to her.’

* * *

It took until mid-afternoon before Augustus made his way to the round room in search of the elusive Sera of the High Reaches. Ignoring her presence and hoping she’d miraculously go away wasn’t working for him. Answers on how best to get rid of her were not forthcoming. Moriana thought she might be of use to him and he trusted his sister’s judgement in most things. Sera’s CV would make any power broker salivate. To have those kind of contacts at his disposal…

And yet he wasn’t the type to share power and he didn’t trust her motivations one little bit.

So here he was, foul of temper and distinctly lacking in patience as he stood at the closed doors to the round room and eyed the profusion of damask roses and soft greenery with distaste, even as the scent of them conjured memories of cloistered gardens and all things feminine. His mother had enjoyed overseeing the floral arrangements throughout the palace, but she’d not have allowed this flat-out challenge to grim austerity. This tease to stop and sniff and feast the eyes on such unrepentantly fleeting beauty.

With one last scathing glare, Augustus stood firm against the temptation to lean forward and let the scent of the roses envelop him. Instead, he pulled the dangling cord that would announce his arrival at the doors. He heard the faint chime of bells and then nothing. Ten seconds later, he reached for the cord again, and then the door opened and the roses were forgotten.

Never mind the creamy skin and the perfection of her lips, the delicate curve of her cheekbones, the raven-black hair that fell in a thick plait to her waist or those eyes that glistened dove-grey. Today his courtesan wore low-slung loose trousers and a cropped fitted top that clung to her curves like a greedy lover’s hand. She was lean and lithe in all the right places, and generously voluptuous in others.

It was a body designed to bring a man to his knees and keep him there for eternity.

She stepped back and dropped her gaze demurely, even as she opened the door wider and sank to the floor in a curtsey, and he might have felt a heel for causing such an action except that she moved like a dancer, fluid and graceful, and he wanted to watch her do it all over again.

‘Don’t do that.’ It was a curt reminder, mostly to himself, that she shouldn’t be on her knees in front of him. It gave him too many ideas, all of them sexual.

‘My mistake.’ She rose as gracefully as she’d gone down in the first place. ‘Welcome, Your Majesty. Please forgive my appearance. I wasn’t expecting company.’

‘What were you doing?’ Her skin glowed with a faint sheen of exertion.

‘Forms,’ she said. ‘Martial arts patterns.’

‘Don’t stop on my account.’

‘I can do them any time,’ she murmured. ‘I’d rather have company.’

He looked around, taking in the now spotless round room, its stone walls and floors covered in tapestries and carpets, oil paintings and silver-edged mirrors. A huge round sofa had been placed in the centre of the room, beneath the domed glass ceiling. The seats faced inwards and there were openings at all four points of the compass. ‘Where is everyone?’

‘The tradespeople and artisans have gone and the Lady Lianthe with them. My guards are currently in a meeting with your guards about how best to utilise their services, given that standing outside a door that no one ever knocks on is a waste of their time and expertise. The maids have been and gone. There is only me.’

Holding her own in a round room built for hundreds to gather in and bedrooms enough for fifty. ‘It’s you I’ve come to see.’

She turned her back on him and led him towards the sofa at the centre of the room. It was leather and studded and looked comfortably soft with age. Pillows and throws had been placed on it at intervals, and the circular floor tapestry framed by the sofa had a stained-glass quality about it, with different scenes to look at depending on where a person sat. ‘What is that?’

‘On the floor?’

He nodded.

‘It’s a communication device. Each scene depicts an action: a need or desire, if you will. In older times a visitor to this place—or even another courtesan—would approach this area and in choosing where to sit would telegraph their needs. Those needs would be seen to.’

‘Just like that?’
<< 1 ... 4 5 6 7 8 9 >>
На страницу:
8 из 9