Page 83 of Split or Swallow

The rest of the girls erupted immediately into giggles and whispers. Tem could only imagine the snide victory Vera must be experiencing now that she was finally alone with Leo. She probably couldn’t get her clothes off fast enough.

And what would Leo think of her? Would he like what he saw?

Tem’s stomach roiled at the thought.

Sixty seconds passed far slower than Tem ever imagined it would. By the time Vera emerged, it felt as if an hour had gone by. The table hushed as she threw open the door, adjusting the neck of her dress with exaggerated emphasis. Her lipstick was smeared. She threw a pointed smirk at Tem before leaving the dining room.

The butler approached the table and extended his hand to another girl, who blushed deeply before taking it.

And on it went.

It was clear that Leo was the one deciding the order of the girls. It was the podiums all over again. Tem had no doubt she would be last. She was an afterthought—only worthy of seeing the prince after he’d had his fill of everyone else. Tem felt suddenly hyper aware of her body—of every curve and divot—of everything nobody but Caspen had ever seen. Was she really about to expose herself to someone who’d done nothing to earn it?

The minutes passed agonizingly slowly.

Girls emerged from the room in various states of undress. The fifth girl was still half naked—she stumbled out with her dress off her shoulders, shooting Tem a rueful grin as the butler ushered her away.

The sixth girl went in.

What would happen if Tem refused to undress? If she simply stood there, silently, and waited for time to run out? Would Leo eliminate her on the spot?

And what would happen if she did undress?

Epiphany crashed into her like a wave.

Tem realized she had wasted far too long worrying about her body and not nearly enough time considering the very real implication of what would happen if she got naked in that room. If she was alone with the prince—if she took off her clothes in front of him—Leo would see every part of her. Every. Single. Part.

The claw was still inside her, its smooth point pressed against her clitoris. She had no way to take it out—the butler was standing five feet away. Even if she could remove it, where would she put it? On the table? The thought was impossible.

The sixth girl came out. The seventh girl went in.

Tem had only two minutes left before it was her turn. She closed her eyes, speaking into her mind:

Caspen.

A dull wave of panic threatened to overtake her as she held her breath, momentarily terrified that he wouldn’t answer. Then:

Tem.

She felt sick. He must have sensed this, because he asked:

What is the matter, Tem?

There was no other way to say it.

I’m about to spend sixty seconds with the prince. Alone.

Maybe she was imagining it, but she swore she felt a wave of displeasure from Caspen’s end of their connection. When he spoke, his voice was controlled:

Yes. And?

So he’d known the Frisky Sixty was tonight. And he’d chosen not to tell her. She made a mental note to yell at him for that later. For now, she had to make use of her limited time.

And it’s customary for the girls to undress.

In the pointed silence that followed, Tem felt a ripple of anger. Caspen had been doing this for centuries—he was familiar with the entire training process, and knew perfectly well what traditionally occurred during those sixty seconds. Why was he forcing her to explain it?

Are you going to undress?