Page 75 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

“So, you’re not upset, are you?”

“No, I’m not upset.”

“He’s definitely upset.”

I threw myself back on my pillows with an exasperated groan. “Great. I’m already humiliated, and now he’s upset with me.”

Vesper perched on a settee at the foot of my bed, shrugging. “Why are you humiliated? Because they discovered you in the bath?”

I buried my face in my hands. An image of the prince leaning over the edge of the bathtub flashed before my eyes. “Please don’t remind me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if it’s your Outlander or human sensibilities, but you are so prudish,” she admonished. “I promise that yours is not the first naked body Prince Enhart has seen.”

I groaned. “Thanks.”

She kicked off her slippers, plucking a honeyed pastry from the tray that rested atop my blankets. She picked it apart, the amber syrup shimmering on her fingertips. “Now, the King is another matter entirely. It’s not uncommon for vampires to share partners, but from what I hear, His Majesty has never been very good at it.”

I grimaced. “Enhart and I are not partners. He gave me his blood because I was dying. I’m sure anyone else would have done the same in his position.”

She popped a piece of pastry into her mouth, chewing as she rested her gaze on me. “No, they wouldn’t. My suggestion? Pay him back now and be absolved of your debt. Maybe then the King will let it go.”

I eyed her warily. “What am I supposed to do, get him a gift?”

She snorted. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of blood debt.”

“I have,” I replied, my tone icier than I meant it to be. She didn’t seem to notice, though. Nor care. “But what do you suggest? Offer him my neck and see if he takes it? I’m sure Mordric would be pleased.”

She giggled. “Perhaps not. Although he’s not the only one you need to worry about.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning. “What do you mean?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Sometimes I forget that you’re merely a babe surrounded by a sea of ancient creeps.”

“Are you counting yourself among them?”

She scowled. “I’m not that old. Barely two centuries. Regardless, I’m only too familiar with the inner workings of Valen’s high society. There may be others who seek to exploit this little incident.”

I frowned. “What is there to exploit?”

“Plenty. Weakness, anger, and jealousy, among other things.”

“Jealousy?” I parroted. “Who’s jealous?”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past the King. Not to mention that bitch, Genevieve.”

I scoffed. “I highly doubt that Genevieve is jealous of me.”

“Are you kidding? With all that telepathic back and forth between you and Enhart at Iltsar? What?” she added as my jaw dropped. “Anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention to either of you that night could tell that you were having some kind of conversation. You didn’t even react to my hilarious retelling of the incident with the countess, the stable hand, and the runaway carriage. Meanwhile, I thought the Duke of Teriac was going to piss himself; he was laughing so hard.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Sorry, Ves. That was rude of me.”

“Well, not rude enough for me to try and feed you to the King. Frankly, I’m surprised that Enhart didn’t rip off that wretch’s head when he was throwing her out of the castle on her ass. Although from what I heard, he came pretty close. The butlers were placing bets on it.”

“They were not.”

“They absolutely were.”

I giggled as I leaned back against my pillows.