Untouched Queen By Royal Command. Kelly Hunter

of clothing she owned. ‘That was quick.’

      ‘I need him here so he can remove the raptors from my quarters.’

      ‘Raptors as in dinosaurs? Because it’s been that kind of day.’

      ‘Raptors as in owls.’

      ‘I’m almost disappointed,’ he said, and there was humour in him, sharp and slippery. ‘What is that you’re wearing, exactly? Apart from the clothes. Which I appreciate, by the way. Clothes are useful. You’ll get cold here if you don’t wear more of them.’

      ‘You mean the jewellery? Your secretary seemed very taken by it as well. It’s ceremonial, for the most part, although practical too.’

      ‘Practical?’

      ‘D-rings and everything.’ She held up one wrist and showed him the loop and then pointed to another where the bustier came together at the back of her neck. ‘So do I have your permission to call in the falconer?’

      ‘Is this a plea for different living quarters? Because I’m being as clear as I can be here. I don’t want to give you any quarters, but, given that I must, you are welcome to more suitable living arrangements than the ones you have requested. I would not deny you that.’

      ‘It’s not a plea for new quarters.’ He tested her patience, this King with the giant stick up his rear. ‘And, yes, you’re being very clear. Perhaps I should be equally clear.’ Save herself a few meetings with him in the process. ‘I want your permission to clean and ready my living quarters for use. I will call in experts, when necessary. I will see the courtesan’s lodgings restored and it will cost you and the palace nothing. I will take all care to preserve the history of the rooms—more care than you or your people would. I will submit names, on a daily basis, of each and every craftsperson or cleaning person that I bring in. By your leave, and provided I have free rein to do so, I can have those rooms fit to live in within a week. Do I have your permission?’

      ‘You argue like a politician. All fine words, sketchy rationale and promises you’ll never keep.’

      ‘I’ll keep this promise, Your Majesty. Consider this a test if you need a reason to say yes.’

      ‘And when you leave again? What happens to all these home improvements then?’

      ‘I expect the next courtesan will benefit from them.’

      ‘Sera.’ He spoke quietly but with an authority that ran bone-deep, and it got to her in a way the authority of her teachers never had. ‘There’s not going to be another courtesan delivered to a King of Arun. This I promise.’

      ‘Then turn the place into a museum,’ she snapped, defiant in the face of extinction. ‘You don’t value me. I get it. You don’t need my help, you don’t want my help, and you don’t understand the backing you’ve just been blessed with. So be it. Meanwhile, we’re both bound by tradition and moreover I have dues to pay. Do I have your permission to engage the help I need to make my living quarters habitable?’

      ‘And here I thought courtesans were meant to be compliant.’

      ‘I am compliant.’ She could be so meekly compliant his head would spin. ‘I can be whatever you want me to be. All I need is direction.’

      His face did not betray his thoughts. Not by the flicker of an eye or the twitching of a muscle.

      ‘You have my permission to make your living quarters habitable,’ he said finally. ‘And Sera?’

      She waited.

      ‘Don’t ever walk the halls of my palace in your ancient slave uniform again.’

      * * *

      The King’s secretary had gone by the time Sera arrived back in the quarters she’d claimed as her own. She held her head high as she entered, never mind that the chill in the air and the ice in the King’s eyes had turned her skin to gooseflesh. She wouldn’t cry, she never had—not even at her mother’s funeral—but the gigantic task of readying this space for use and earning Augustus of Arun’s trust, and, yes, finding him a wife, was daunting enough to make her smile falter and her shoulders droop as she stared around at her new home.

      Lianthe and the guards had already begun pulling covers off the furnishings and for that she would be grateful. She wasn’t alone in this. Other people had faith in her abilities.

      ‘I’ve already sent for cleaning equipment and linens,’ Lianthe said when she saw her. ‘Did you find him again?’

      ‘I did.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘He’s a funny guy. He’s also hard as nails underneath, doesn’t like not getting his own way and he’s going to be hell on my sense of self-worth.’

      ‘We knew this wasn’t going to be an easy sell. I’m sure you’ll come to a greater understanding of each other eventually.’

      ‘I’m glad someone’s sure,’ she murmured.

      ‘And what did he have to say about securing a falconer to help get rid of our feathered friends?’

      ‘Oh, that?’ She’d forgotten about that. ‘He said yes.’