“This is recent too, but there was news— ” My breath caught as she toyed with the peak of my breast. My own fingers pressed into the cushion of the couch in front of me. “You have a very skewed view of behaving yourself.”
“I do?” She winked at me. “You were saying?”
I shook my head at her. “I was saying there has been news concerning the Westlands.”
“What?” she asked, and as I told her what Ramsey had said, she slid her hand from my now far too sensitive breast. “What in the world could be causing this? Why would a princess turn against the King?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured. I hadn’t paid much attention to Hyhborn politics. Most of us lowborn didn’t, since it rarely impacted us, but that . . . that was changing, wasn’t it?
“King Euros has to do something about it,” Naomi mused. “Don’t you think?”
“The Iron Knights are suspected of being responsible for the raids along the border, right? And if that is true, that means they are doing so on the orders of the Princess of Visalia, but the King hasn’t done anything about the raids, so . . .”
“True.” She paused. “He’s a bastard.”
My shoulders shook with laugher. “I’m pretty sure all of those who are in power are bastards.”
Naomi grinned as her hand skated over my thigh.
My gaze flicked to the Baron. He was focused once more on Allyson. Was he at all worried about the raids encroaching farther into the Midlands? Or how close to utter devastation Archwood had come?
“What are you thinking about?” Naomi asked, and I gave a little jump as her hand made its way to the opening in the panels. “You look entirely too serious for someone in the midst of an orgy.”
I laughed, but worry gnawed at me, if not Claude. I glanced at Naomi. “Why do you stay here?”
She went still behind me for just half a second. “Why not?”
Sighing, I looked away from her.
“What?” She nipped at my throat when I didn’t answer, causing me to gasp at the dual stroke of pain and something entirely different. “What?”
I shot her a narrowed glare over my shoulder. “Ouch.”
“You liked it,” she retorted with a saucy grin. “What was that sigh for?”
“It was for the hand on my thigh,” I replied.
“As if that were true. You never make a sound when it comes to that, not even when I do that thing with my fingers that I know you like, because everyone likes it.”
I knew exactly what she was talking about. “I just . . . I just don’t get why you stay here,” I said finally, tucking my foot between hers as her arm slipped deeper between the panels of gown.
“Do you think I’m not happy?”
“Are you?”
Naomi didn’t answer right away, instead contenting herself with drawing her fingers over my navel and lower. She made no comment when no undergarments met her adventurous fingers, knowing that Maven had dressed me. “I stay because I want to. Because I am happy here.”
It was now I who went quiet.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
I tipped my head into the crook of her shoulder. “I hope you speak the truth.”
“You should.” She looked down at me, brown eyes serious. “Look, I’ve heard you say it before. Archwood is like any other city in any other territory, but it’s pretty here. The air is clean and not clogged with smoke like the towns near the mines. I have a roof over my head and as much food as I can eat, and I don’t have to break my back for that.”
“You sure you aren’t breaking your back?” I quipped.
Naomi’s stare turned droll, and I giggled. “It’s not my back I break,” she said, and another small laugh left me. “Anyway, as I was saying, I don’t have to work myself to death in the mines or cleaning up after others. Nor do I have to marry to feel secure. I choose what I do with my days and with whom. Besides, I like fucking and being fucked,” she told me, hand slipping between my thighs.
“Never would’ve guessed that,” I stated.
Naomi’s laugh tugged at my lips, and my own crawled up my throat. That was the thing about her laughs. They were infectious.
“I’m not like my sister, you know? I never wanted to be married and be used as nothing more than a broodmare,” she said, the corners of her mouth tensing. “That’s why this life with Claude is perfect for me. There are no expectations. No boundaries. I like what I am.” Her gaze briefly met mine. “I wish you could like what you are.”