one-piece.”
“You look fine.”
“I wish I had something to put over
this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I shrug with a frown.
“We’re all wearing the same thing.”
“But—”
“Here we are,” Salva leads us out of the
tunnel and back into the same Great Hall as earlier. “This way,”
she navigates us through the thicket of quietly chattering
Mybyncians and toward Sampson and Clarence who are conversing with
Qippert and the blue-haired chancellor.
I’m about to ask Clarence about the Rogues
when I see them carving their way through the crowd to us.
My heart stops.
Reid is in nothing but a loin-cloth. It’s the
same cobalt as my skirt but while mine reaches my ankles, his goes
no further than his knees. Behind him, Tucker, Booker, Werzo and
Jace appear, all donned in the same revealing fashions.
“Fallon?” Pratt bumps into me.
I don’t even realize I’ve stopped, my mouth
going dry at the sight of Reid’s perfectly sculpted chest and his
strong, carved arms. I gulp, aware I’m probably drooling, but I
can’t help it. I know I’ve seen it before—seen him, like this
before—but memory doesn’t do it justice when I’m faced with the
sweet reality of his physicality. My blood boils, my heart thumping
frantically in my chest and all I can do is stare.
“Fallon?” Pratt asks again as the boys
approach.
Reid’s eyes flicker over me, a lump rolling
down his throat.
“Ladies,” Werzo smiles, drinking in the sight
of Mae and me. His focus dips to our shell bras, like he’s trying
to see through them. It makes me want to cover myself but Mae’s
already on it, shielding herself with her arms.
“Nice loin-cloth,” I say.
“I know,” Jace glances around the room,
studying the bare attire of the mayans. “Too bad there’s separate
sleeping quarters,” he pauses, eyeing a young, voluptuous mayan
with flowing turquoise hair.
She’s right past Sampson and Chancellor
Keller, laughing with a set of other very pretty mayans. Werzo and
Booker follow Jace’s stare, excited grins erupting at the sight of
so much exposed sage skin. The mayan with turquoise hair finally
notices Jace watching her and she instantly blushes a deep
scarlet.
“Oh yeah…” Werzo’s mouth curves into a greedy
smile. “This is going to be a good night.”
“We’re not here for that,” Tucker furrows his
brows, clearly aggravated with his Rogues. He and Reid are the only
two refusing to look.
“They didn’t say we weren’t here for
that…” Werzo counters, licking his lips as the group of mayans
disappear through the crowd, the turquoise-haired one offering Jace
a teasing, challenging look.
“No.” Tucker makes his decision final.
Jace’s mouth drops to say something but at
the last second, he closes it, keeping his comment to himself. His
hungry eyes follow after her, his mind already working out how to
get around Tucker’s refusal.
I look at Reid.
My body is enflamed at the sight of his eyes
scanning it. He’s drinking me in, just like I did to him, but he
still refuses to speak. He only stares, something playing behind
his eyes and suddenly, Clarence is here.
“Alright,” he indicates the four vacant
thrones, “the queen will sample her food first, followed by her
three daughters. After that, we’ll be allowed to eat.”
“Where are they?” Pratt looks around.
“On their way. Should be here any
minute.”
“Is it really smart to separate?” I ask.
“Even for the night?”
“It’s custom,” Clarence shrugs, eyeing Jace,
Booker and Werzo, smirking at their ogling stares. “Though I can
see the Rogues are trying to work a way around it.”
“They won’t,” Tucker assures him.
“Let’s hope not. The last thing we need is to
insult the queen.”
“And she’d get upset over that?” Reid shifts
his focus from me to Clarence. “What exactly would constitute the
insult?”
“Well…” and now Clarence tilts his head to
the side, considering. “The Mybyncians are