If he was going to play games, then I could play too. He sent me those panties probably assuming they would get me fired up, and at first, they did.
But I quickly realized that if I was going to get through the next weeks, then I couldn’t give into his provocations. I had to try to keep it cool and even play the game right back if possible.
So wearing the panties and conveniently needing to get my shoes on in front of him was all part of my plans. King asshole wanted to play games, but he didn’t know what he had in store for him.
We walked together out of my room and headed down the hallway. The security detail, three big, nondescript men, one of which I recognized as Al from the night before, followed at a respectful distance but still close.
“Are they always following you around?” I asked Trip.
“More or less,” he said. “But we can lose them if you want.”
“That’s probably a bad idea.”
“Maybe, but if you want me to find out just how ruined those panties are, we’ll need a little privacy.”
I blushed. “These panties are fine.”
“I’m sure,” he murmured, smiling. “Well, here we are.”
He pushed open a large oak door and we stepped inside.
The throne room was long and wide with antique fireplaces lining the hall. It wasn’t as big as the banquet hall from the night before, but it was definitely older. Everything was original; all the stonework and the decorations were faded and worn, but still magnificent.
“Like I said, it doesn’t get much use except for tours,” he said as we walked down the hall, “but it’s still pretty impressive, I think. Over seven hundred years old. It’s part of the original structure.”
“Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “This is pretty amazing.”
“And here we are. The thrones.”
The thrones were two gold chairs with deep seats and high backs, but I had to admit that I was a little let down. They were plain, with only the minimum of decorations.
“Simple,” I said.
He laughed. “That’s right. Starkish Kings were known for their seriousness and their frugality back in the old days. These are supposed to be a symbol of our simple might.”
I smiled. “I like them then.”
“Go ahead. Take a seat.”
I stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Go ahead. Trust me, you won’t break it.”
I slowly sat down in the king’s throne. Trip stood behind me and bent down, his lips near my ear.
“What do you think?” he said softly.
“I can understand why people like this.”
“You look perfect in that chair,” he said.
I pictured ruling over a country from this chair. I couldn’t imagine how many edicts and lives had been changed from the very spot I was sitting. Probably countless.
I stood up, shaking my head. I couldn’t get too seduced by all this. “Come on,” I said. “Show me something else. Really try to impress me.”
“Not impressed enough?” he asked, laughing.
“Not yet.”
“Good. I’ve got a lot more.”
We went back down the long hall and out into the main part of the castle. We walked side by side, heading through the maze-like passages.
“Do you know where we are right now?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No clue, honestly.”
“Good. You’re not supposed to. This castle was built like a maze to confuse everyone but the royal family.”
“That makes sense. Get a lot of assassins these days?”
He laughed. “Not really, no.”
“Did you grow up here?”
“I did,” he said, nodding. “I know these halls better than anyone alive right now. Except for maybe Max.”
“Maximillian?”
He nodded. “I grew up with Max. He was my caretaker when I was a child, and he’s my closest advisor now.”
“That’s nice,” I said, “though I can’t imagine growing up with servants.”
“You get used to it, like anything else.” We finally stopped in front of another large oak door. “I think you’ll like this.”
He pushed the doors open and we stepped inside. My breath caught in my chest.
It was like something from a dream. With two floors and oak desks in the middle, the library looked like it was straight out of a Renaissance painting. It was gorgeous, all polished oak and real stone floors. The shelves were packed with books.
“Okay,” I said, walking inside, “now I’m impressed.”
“Good,” he said, laughing.
“What are all these books?”
He shrugged. “They’re mostly in Starklandian. Lots of them are pretty old.” He walked over to one shelf and pulled out a thick, heavy-looking tome. “I think this one is handwritten. Probably as old as this castle.”