The Queen's Line (Inheritance of Hunger #1) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,7

on the trip down here, didn't you?"

Aric grunted by the fire, and when I turned to look at him again, his head whipped toward the flames as if he'd been observing me while I wasn't looking.

"Aric owns a lively tavern in Rumsbrooke," Cosmo supplied slowly. "I used to sneak in there when I was a lad."

"No one sneaks around me, Pianetta," Aric growled, gray eyes cutting in a glare in our direction and then turning to the open room. "We let you in because the ladies liked you. Still do," he rasped with a skimming glance over me. "But it looks as though your competition will be more intent this time."

I stiffened as I saw what Aric meant. Someone must've wrestled my small plate of fruit from Wendell, and now all the neglected men of my Chosen were headed in our direction. Their gazes were more determined this time, and I didn't know if I was only being paranoid of or if there were hints of suspicion in their stares. I was already failing. I couldn't just sit here and play get-to-know-you with these men until dawn.

If I wanted to keep my position as princess inherit, then I had to perform.

I jumped up from the settee, grabbing up Owen and Cosmo's hands, finding Aric's narrow stare.

"I—please…" I swallowed hard, and Aric's head tipped as he watched me. "Would the three of you please retire to my bedroom with me?"

It shouldn't have been a question. It shouldn't even have been a statement. I should've stripped them bare and taken them on the couch like any other woman in the queen's line. But I didn't think I could stand to fake the Hunger in front of an audience so big.

Cosmo and Owen followed readily, but Aric's hands clenched around the arms of the chair he remained in and his head jerked in the briefest movement.

"Aric, you can't refuse," Cosmo whispered. "Especially not in front of the others."

The older man's jaw ticked, and he rose slowly from the chair, eyes fierce and full of anger on me. My own expression was tight as I tried to bury the panic in my own chest, and he blinked and made to follow. Owen cut our path smoothly through the sycophantic Chosen, and I hurried close at his back, grateful for the height and breadth of him giving me something to hide behind.

"Princess, please allow me—"

"You should have a prince with you to gentle their coarse habits—"

"Your water, Your Highness—"

"Your fruit, Your Grace—"

"I would drink from your apex like a dying man—"

I ignored them all, my eyes on the slight stain of Owen's coarse shirt. At the door, we found Prince Thao and Wendell Pope, who made identical and elegant bows to us.

"May we join you, Princess Bryony?" Thao asked in soft and accented Kimmerian.

The damn pair were blocking my escape. "Yes, fine. In, please," I bit out.

Wendell was quick with the door, and the voices followed close at our heels as we stepped into my dark bedchamber. There were candles lit on the mantle, but no fire and my balcony doors were open over the garden, the room fresh with the scent of orchids and gardenias and roses and peonies.

Owen turned and looked over my head. "A little faster, Aric, or you'll let the whole lot in," he said, smiling.

Behind me, a gentle pair of hands took my waist, drawing me back to a warm chest as the door clicked shut behind us. I nearly jumped out of my own skin as lips brushed over my shoulder, breath chuckling as Cosmo nuzzled my bare skin. He smelled nice, a little sweet and pleasantly fresh, and also a bit like plaster, but I couldn't force myself to relax. Instead, I reached for Owen's wrinkled shirt, pulling him to a bend. I made the mistake of stopping to look into his eyes, my own terrified and pained expression reflecting back at me, before I took his face in my hands, stubble scratching my palms, and brought his mouth to mine.

It was not my first kiss. One of Camellia's Chosen had tried to kiss me a year ago, his mouth bruising against mine before I'd wrestled him away. This was my first kiss I'd given freely, although I felt numb at the connection.

Was I doing it right, should I try to press my tongue in as Igor had with me? Owen's hands mirrored my own, gentle and scratching with callouses on my cheeks as he pulled at my