Thorn's pov
A woman, one of my personal whores, crawled over, pushed the girl aside without a glance. She leaned in and cleaned me with her tongue, lapping up the mess with practiced efficiency. I let her, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the hollow ache return almost immediately.
She tilted her head back, taking her mouth off my cock.
"You're distracted," she said.
"I'm never distracted," I said, though the words tasted like ash.
Tonight you are." She smiled, her teeth white against her dark lips. "Something on your mind, my king?"
I did not answer. I just watched the flames dance in the hearth, the heat of the fire matching the heat in my blood, but doing nothing to warm the cold knot in my chest.
The treaty with Dravara had been signed weeks ago. The queen had refused me, publicly, in front of her entire court. I had smiled and bowed and said all the right words, and I had returned to my kingdom with less than I had come for.
But I had not forgotten. I never forgot.
