I could see his point of view. Hell, I had been in his place and knew the horde was full of treacherous, unfaithful fuck-faces. However, he didn’t get to treat me like I was nothing. Ryder didn’t get to argue about my clothes; you simply did not hunt shit down in a fucking dress. What the hell did he want? Me on my knees, sucking him off as the horde watched? Fuck that noise.
I had done everything he’d asked without question, even though most of those tasks had been things the servants were already doing. Like make sure they had fed the horses. We had a fucking stable full of horses, and stable-hands tended them! He was in battle mode, fine, whatever.
I didn’t deserve to be treated like his slave, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t stand for that kind of treatment in front of his counsel. He’d changed them, too, in the last few days, another thing he’d failed to inform me. I wasn’t on his team. He was a war party of one, and I was the odd man out by his choice.
I paused as Darynda came into view. “Where are the other women?”
“In the women’s parlor, drinking tea,” she replied softly, noting the way my eyebrows pinched together. “Most are unhappy, so basically, it’s a bitch session, as you refer to it. The men have been issuing orders and doing so in a manner in which we’re not very pleased. We didn’t want to bother you.” Seeing my expression, she frowned. “Is everything okay? You seem tense, Synthia.”
“I am dealing with the King of Assholes treating me like I should lick his boots clean.” Exhaling my resolve, I began marching down the hall. “Let’s go. Call the other handmaidens to the parlor, please.”
“Would you like me to have the kitchen send up refreshments?” She pushed her red curls away from her face, waiting for my reply.
“No, but have some drinks sent to the council in the throne room. Make sure it’s the horde’s best liquor.” A wicked thought came to me, and I smirked, “Actually, Ryder had some stashed away for a special celebration, so use that. Have some sandwiches delivered as well. They must be so hungry with all their manly war planning. Also, make sure they are all comfortable. Take them some pillows for their pompous asses to sit upon. We can’t have them getting overstressed, now can we?” I hesitated, watching her frown deepen. “Is there a problem with my orders, Darynda?”
“It’s just that the head of the horde houses are down there, and Ryder asked rather explicitly to not be disturbed.”
“Then make sure the king is made aware that as the queen’s duty, I am making sure that he and the men are well-fed and supplied with drinks. We are ensuring they’re happy and in good health. If he doesn’t like it, he can suck on a fucking fairy cow’s farting ass.”
“Okay, but I don’t have to say the last part, right?” Her stare widened with fear, and it gave me pause enough to exhale, shaking my head.
Watching Darynda walk away with her shoulders slumped, I silently counted to ten, tightening my hands into fists at my sides as I let my anger deflate. Ryder had been saving that alcohol for some time now, hiding it from everyone to drink during a celebration. It would piss him off, and that made me happy. I smirked, imagining the look on his face when he realized his secret stash was being dished out to people he didn’t even like.
Instead of sifting into the parlor, I walked the rest of the way, enjoying the clicking sound of the heels I’d chosen, even if Ryder didn’t like them. I entered the room in a swirl of frustrated anger, and everyone stopped talking. The moment I arrived, they all went silent, and that irked me, too.
“Continue, don’t stop bitching on my account,” I stated, taking a seat in the high-back chair I’d brought from my old apartment. I hadn’t been able to walk back into that apartment after what had happened, but Alden had gotten it for me. No one spoke,