Filed To Story: Spit or Swallow: Kiss Of The Basilisk
Tem wanted to call him back but didn’t. It was hard enough that she had to see Leo tonight. It would be harder still if Caspen was listening to every word.
The package arrived at seven.
It was larger than the one Leo had sent her last time, and when Tem opened it, she realized why. Three dresses fell onto her bed. One was silver, which Tem immediately rejected. She didn’t want anything clashing with the gold of her necklace. The next dress was a deep purple and so low-cut that Tem actually blushed. Typical Leo. The last one, inexplicably, was modest. It was black and form-fitting, with a high neck and long sleeves. Tem arranged the dresses on the bed so she could see all three at once.
Tem recognized that Leo was letting her choose for herself, that he’d heard her when she told him she liked making her own choices. Could it be possible that he wasn’t the pig he portrayed himself to be? A glance at the neckline of the purple dress refuted that possibility. Yet his gesture wasn’t lost on Tem.
She considered the dresses. Then she considered Leo’s request.
Torture me.
It was one thing to show Leo everything he wanted. It was another thing entirely to show him nothing at all. Besides, who was she to deny the prince?
Tem smiled and reached for the black dress.
Vera was the last girl to arrive at the castle.
Tem watched as she flounced into the foyer with her nose turned up, snatching a glass of wine from the butler and downing half of it in one go. Her mouth was a bright circle of cherry-red lipstick, and she reeked of flowery perfume. The combination was an assault on the senses.
“Are you feeling better?” Tem asked as politely as she could manage.
Vera squinted at her suspiciously.
“Why do you care?”
“Your father said you were sick. I’m just making conversation.”
Vera sighed. “If you must know, Jonathan ended things with me.”
Tem almost laughed. It was just like Vera to be sad about Jonathan ending things while simultaneously competing for the prince’s hand in marriage. Nothing was ever enough for Vera; she always had to have it all.
“Well…I’m…sorry to hear that.”
“You should be.”
“Excuse me?”
“You should be sorry. If I had been with the Serpent King, I’m sure I would’ve known how to keep him.”
“Are you serious?”
Vera flipped her curls over her shoulder. The other half of the wine disappeared into her mouth as a butler ushered them into a dimly lit dining room along with the rest of the girls. A large circular table was arranged in the center of the room, surrounded by plush velvet chairs. Shiny gold name tags adorned each plate.
“You’re so ungrateful, Tem,” Vera hissed as the butler distributed more wine. “Of all people, you have the best teacher. Everyone knows that’s the reason you got your date.”
Tem had nothing to say to that. Little did Vera know that the Serpent King was hardly teaching her anything, and she’d only gotten her date because Leo wanted to make his father angry.
“The prince obviously likes you,” Vera continued. “You’re dressed like a nun and he still can’t stop staring.”
Tem glanced across the dining room to see that Leo was already there, leaning against the far wall. His eyes were on her thigh, which was exposed by the high slit in the dress. It was the only skin visible, yet somehow he’d managed to find it.
She shook her head. “He’s only staring because he hates this dress.”
“Whatever.” Vera rolled her eyes. “Dresses don’t matter tonight anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
Vera suddenly had the same look on her face she got whenever she was about to drop a particularly scandalous piece of gossip. She leaned in, her red lips pinched with glee. “The Frisky Sixty is tonight.”
Tem’s stomach dropped. “How do you know?”
“My snake told me. Didn’t yours?”
Tem was too shocked to reply.
The Frisky Sixty was a notorious part of the elimination process. Each girl would have sixty seconds with the prince, behind closed doors, with nobody else present. The villagers had dubbed it the “Frisky Sixty” because sixty seconds really wasn’t enough time to do anything other than take your clothes off. And that was exactly what the girls were expected to do. The prince was choosing a wife after all. The Frisky Sixty gave him the opportunity to see what each girl had to offer. It was an antiquated, offensive, and abhorrent tradition. But it was also the simplest means to an end. What better way to guarantee that Leo would make an informed choice than to show him his options ahead of time?
Tem tried to dull the sharp prick of indignation that pierced her side. She couldn’t believe Caspen hadn’t informed her this was happening tonight. Then again, why would he? He hadn’t prepared her for any other part of the competition either. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt-she wanted to believe that he hadn’t known about this. But Vera’s basilisk had known, and he had told her. Surely, the Serpent King would’ve been informed. Tem wasn’t just unprepared; she was beginning to feel like Caspen was sabotaging her.
A gentle clink clink clink filled her ears. The butler was tapping a knife on a wineglass. The room hushed as he said, “Please be seated. Dinner is served.”
Everyone obeyed, milling around the table and looking for their name tag. Tem had just found hers when Leo’s nimble fingers swiped it out from under her.
“What are you-” Tem started to say, but he was already walking to the other side of the table and switching her name tag for the one next to his. He sauntered back to place the other name tag where Tem’s had been a moment ago. It was Vera’s.
“Trust me, you don’t want to do that,” Tem said.
“Trust me”-that familiar mischievous smile twisted his lips-“I do.”
Tem could only imagine the conversation she would have at the bakery tomorrow. But she couldn’t go against the prince.
With a sigh, Tem followed Leo to the other side of the table. He pulled her chair out for her, and she sat reluctantly, already bracing herself for what was to come. She chanced a glance at Vera, who was staring daggers at her.
Tem turned to Leo. “You’ve just made my life significantly more difficult.”
He arched an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Vera will be furious.”
Leo smiled widely. “Vera will get over it.”
“I assure you, she won’t.”
He shrugged. “I want you next to me. Is that such a crime?”
Before Tem could answer, the butler served the first course, and dinner began.
The wine was flowing; Tem lost count of how many times her glass was refilled. By the time they were on the second course-a tender roast chicken-Tem was getting drunk. She wasn’t the only one. Leo was drinking whiskey like it was water, and with every glass he downed, his movements became increasingly unpredictable, as if someone had loosened his joints. Tem couldn’t imagine why he needed the liquid courage. The prince was the only person at this table who didn’t have to be vulnerable tonight. All he had to do was watch.
The girls took turns flirting with Leo, alternating between fawning over him and giving each other scathing looks. It was pathetic to watch, and Tem found herself daydreaming. She was just about to replay her orgasm from last night in her mind when she heard it:
Help.
It was the voice again-the same one she’d heard before.
An idea occurred to her suddenly. If she could talk to Caspen, maybe she could talk to the voice. She reached out with her mind, opening another corridor and sending her thoughts along it:
Where are you?
The voice was barely audible. I am here.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.