I was suffocating on a question that was destroying me from the inside out, and the man who'd asked it knew exactly what he'd done to me. “How do you bring pleasure to yourself?”
Seven simple words that had shattered every certainty I'd ever held about myself, about my body, about the careful walls I'd built around my desires.
They echoed in my mind at the most inappropriate moments, during morning prayers, while discussing trade agreements with visiting dignitaries, even while selecting what gown to wear.
His question followed me like a shadow, and I was beginning to realize that shadows could devour you whole. The worst part wasn't the question itself, it was my complete inability to answer it.
I told myself it was barbaric nonsense, something beneath a princess of Veridian. But the deeper truth gnawed at me like a persistent ache: I didn't know my own body.
I'd been raised to ignore it, to treat it as nothing more than a vessel for duty and reproduction. The idea that it might hold secrets, desires, sources of pleasure I'd never explored... It was both terrifying and strangely compelling.
"You seem distracted today, Your Highness," Cordelia observed as we strolled through the palace's east wing.
"Just admiring the architecture," I lied, though in truth, I was watching the people.
Everything about Aurelion's court felt foreign and unsettling.
The Fae servants moved through the halls like beautiful ghosts, their single wings catching the light as they performed their duties with quiet dignity.
There was something haunting about them, not just their physical beauty, but the way they carried themselves. Proud despite their bondage, graceful despite their scars.
The nobles were no less strange. They touched each other constantly, hands on shoulders, fingers trailing across arms, embraces that lasted longer than propriety should allow.
Their conversations were layered with double meanings I was only beginning to recognize, and their laughter had an edge that suggested secrets I wasn't privy to.
"Princess Penelope!" A familiar voice called out.
I turned to see Lady Vivienne approaching with her characteristic predatory smile, flanked by two other women I recognized from the group of consort candidates.
"How are you finding your... education... so far?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with malicious curiosity.
"Quite enlightening," I replied carefully.
"Oh, I'm sure it is." The blonde beside her, Lady Catherine, I thought, giggled. "Rios has such a unique teaching style."
"He's very thorough," the third woman added with a knowing look. "He makes sure you understand every aspect of your responsibilities."
They all laughed at some private joke, and I felt my cheeks burn. How had their training progressed? What had they learned that I was still too naive to grasp?
"Well, don't let us keep you," Vivienne said sweetly. "I'm sure you have much to... practice."
They glided away, leaving me standing there with my embarrassment and growing sense of inadequacy.
That night, I locked the chamber door with trembling fingers. The click echoed too loudly in the silence.
I turned toward the mirror, tall and merciless in the moonlight, and faced a version of myself I barely recognized.
My skin glowed pale beneath the sheer nightgown—thin silk clinging to my curves, betraying what I had always been taught to hide. My long chestnut hair spilled over my shoulders like wildfire across fresh snow.
My lips were parted, eyes wide and unsure. I looked untouched. Innocent. On the edge of something dangerous.
I swallowed and raised my hand to my chest, feeling the frantic drumbeat of my heart beneath the delicate fabric. Slowly, I trailed my fingers downward, brushing over the curve of my waist, lower... lower...
This was what Rios wanted me to explore. This was the “lesson.”
But as my hand dipped between my thighs, heat and shame collided—sharp and suffocating. I flinched, guilt tightening around my throat like a noose. This isn’t who I am. I was a princess—a future queen. Raised for diplomacy, purity, appearances.
Not for this.
I jerked my hand away and turned from the mirror, disgusted with myself. I was failing at something I'd never even tried, paralyzed by fears I couldn't name.
Yet another voice whispered in my mind, Rios's voice, calm and damning: "For how can you bring pleasure to the Prince, if you cannot even bring pleasure to yourself?"
By the time I returned to the training chamber, I was restless.
Rios waited for me. He didn't smile, like always, but he looked at me like he already knew what I hadn't admitted to myself yet, that I was here not because I had to be, but because some part of me wanted to be.
"Close the door," he said, his voice carrying that quiet authority that made my pulse quicken.
My pulse quickened and fingers trembled on the handle as I obeyed, and the soft click of the lock echoed through the dimly lit room.
The space felt different now, tense and expectant.
"You didn't do the assignment." It wasn't a question, and the way he said it made heat crawl up my neck.
He could see right through me.
"No," I admitted, my voice tight. "I couldn't... I tried, but—"
He lifted a single hand, silencing me without a word. “Then we begin together. Right now.” His voice slid over me like velvet and steel. “Lie down.”
I blinked. “Lie… where?”
“There,” he said, nodding to the padded bench bathed in soft amber light. “The choice is always yours, Penelope. But if you’re ready to stop running, I’ll guide you.”
Each step toward that bench felt like falling.
I lay back, the cool silk kissing my thighs, my arms, my spine. My nightgown slipped higher as I adjusted. My skin prickled as cool air touched warm places.
Rios didn’t move closer, but his presence wrapped around me like a second skin. He sat beside the bench, close enough that I could smell him—earth and spice and something darkly masculine.
My mouth went dry.
“This is not about pleasing me,” he said, voice soft now, coaxing. “There are no watchers. No eyes but your own. This is your body, your pace, your pleasure.”
His words slithered through my bones, more intimate than touch.
“I’ll tell you where to begin. And you’ll listen.”