Royal Recruit - Susan Grant Page 0,45
turned out to be harmless, but it could have gone the other way. He could be lying in a pool of blood right now. His personal Earth bodyguards had died in the attack. With no one watching his six o’clock, in fighter pilot terms, he’d damn well better do it himself.
“Your Highness, I am to escort you to the queen’s chambers,” the attendant announced, his eyes downcast.
“Get scanned, then we’ll talk.”
The man bowed submissively, his hands brought together as he bowed. He walked over to the security box and submitted to a retina scan. His identity flashed on-screen as okay.
Jared let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You look different from the others.”
The eunuch lifted his eyes. In them, anger and shame burned strong. “Unlike them, it was not my choice to be this way.”
“To be a eunuch?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The younger servant stood by the door and cleared his throat.
“But I am blessed to be here,” the man finished as if worried he’d be in trouble for revealing his opinion on his physical state.
“Are there others like you?” If he had to become an advocate for Coalition palace workers to be allowed to keep their stones, he would. Balls for All. “Have others been forced into your condition?”
“Only me. This is the result of my own despicable actions,” he recited almost robotically. “I am blessed to have been shown such mercy by our goddess, the queen.”
Something Cavin had told him rushed back. About a rumor that the queen had defended herself against a man by what amounted to castration. In the ultimate punishment, she’d kept him alive and forced him to serve with the other eunuchs in the palace. “God. That was you?”
The man nodded and waved a hand at the door. “Her Majesty wishes me to escort you to her chambers.”
“To humiliate you or to send me a warning?”
The man flinched at the anger in Jared’s voice. “To remind me of my crime, I believe, by asking me to escort her new husband to her on her mating night.”
Mating night, eh? Jared liked the sound of that. He hadn’t been sure if tonight would be dinner only, or more. He wasn’t going to force anything; he wanted her to feel comfortable with him first. But at least he and Keira were on the same wavelength; only he wished she hadn’t felt it necessary to mete out punishments while making the arrangements.
Flowers in hand, he followed the gloomy eunuch from his apartment through the halls of the palace. The man brought him to a huge set of double doors. “I am to go no farther.” He started to leave and stopped. “Prince Jared, I wish you…good luck,” he added and left.
Good luck? Who needed luck? He could handle Keira—he could handle her offscreen as well as on.
He adjusted his tie one last time and pushed through the set of heavy doors.
He caught a glimpse of a large, nearly empty room before the doors slammed shut behind him with a thunderous bang.
“Keira?” He turned, looking for her. What was this place? The room smelled fresh and faintly floral, a scent that inexplicably attracted him. It was also silent, as if soundproofed. There was no furniture, and the walls and floor were padded like a gym. And were those handcuffs hanging from the walls? Was this Keira’s idea of a joke?
It looked like the den of a dominatrix. He half expected her to appear dressed in black leather. With the body she had, who’d mind? As long as she left her daggers behind. He didn’t trust his new wife with sharp objects.
A whirring noise dragged his attention to the opposite wall. Four silvery cables writhed on the wall as they came alive. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The cables hunted, as if searching for something.
Time to leave, he thought and took a step backward. Mistake. All four writhing cables turned in his direction. Then they rushed at him at high speed.
Jared threw his body at the door. He fumbled for a way to unlock it. When that failed, he pounded on it. “Someone open the freaking door!” he shouted, panic making him resort to English.
The cables slithered around him like hungry snakes. Flowers spilled everywhere. He tried to pull the cables off, but they spun around his arms and legs. Snaking around his wrists and ankles, they cinched tight and yanked him backward.
Arms over his head, he was whipped across the floor on his ass. He slammed