Page 2 of The Queen's Line

"Very impressive, that's enough," Grandmother said. "Unless you'd like him now, Bryony?"

So here was the kind of man I was supposed to desire. Tall, big cock, quiet, aesthetically pleasing. I wanted to refuse. I knew nothing of him, he was only a man standing in front of me. What if he was rude, or his voice was too loud, or he was unkind? If I imagined him like Henry Fredericks, one of my favorite of all the romantic heroes I'd fallen in love with, then…

I blushed as a soft unfurling of warmth built in my center.Ifhe was Henry Fredericks, then yes, I found him very pleasing.

But hewasn'tthe charming and humble duke to be. He was a stranger.

One my grandmother, my entire kingdom, was waiting to see if I desired. How could I explain to them that I lacked what everyone had always told me I was destined to rule with? There were some nights, alone in my bed, a book in hand and a vision of a looming hero in my thoughts, where I thought that I did possess the Hunger, the unquenchable craving to betouchedandsatisfied. But faced with the men of my mother's harem, my sister's, those alliance princes who came and went from the palace? I suspected I was missing a vital piece of myself. I wanted nothing of those men.

"Let him wait," I said, gesturing to the door leading to an antechamber that would take him to the lounge where the first round of my picks would be examined.

Camellia sampled three men over the course of her first choosing. I didn't think I could bring myself to sample one, but the least I could do was pick some of the men out of the line up as was expected of me. There would be some of the politically desirable matches—royals from nearby kingdoms, or ones especially advantageous for alliance—already waiting for me. But a woman from my line would be expected to find her own desires in our general populace. Grandmother said it made the people feel closer to our rulers. I suspected it was more likely that the Hunger demanded men who wouldserveand not see themselves as quite so equal in rank.

"Very good choice, Bryony. If he's quick to recover, he'll see you plenty satisfied," Grandmother said, watching the broad back of my first pick leaving the great hall as I waved my hand, happily dismissing the rest of the front line.

My grandmother was liberal with her advice and opinion, but as the endless sea of men moved through our hall, I devised my own system. There was a young man who looked like the sweetheart baker in a novel I'd loved growing up, and I gestured him into the antechamber, and then another who reminded me of the roguish and redeemed lead inA Broken Promise. It had been a terrible book with a worse main character, but Vlad Embario had always given me a bit of the swoons, and the man in front of me had a gaze that seemed equally as potent, watching me as fiercely as I'd studied him.

One by one, and with many rejected men between them, I made my choices. They were not based on Hunger, but on books I'd loved. If I possessed any secret Hunger, it wasn't making an appearance in this clinical parade of man-flesh and under my grandmother's opinionated eye.

"No, no, he's too old," Grandmother said, shaking her head as a tall, broad man stepped forward at my call, his movements rigid.

"He isn't," I said, eyeing the man and noting the surprised twitch of his head.

He had a wolfish look to him, and his features were classical and cool. Therewassilver in his hair, but I liked it and he reminded me of the noble Captain Beauregard, who'd rescued a young woman from pirates and had tenderly refused to deflower her until their wedding night.

"He may not be able to perform," Grandmother said.

And before she could demand he do so in front of us, I spoke up. "That will be known in the next round. Let him wait."

The older man's eyes fastened to mine and there wasferocityin his stare, but I wasn't sure it was of a passionate nature. Perhaps he was offended I would not let him prove himself? After a pause that left me nearly squirming in my seat, the man turned on his heel and strode to wait with the others.

"He looks willful," Grandmother said. "But that can be fun."

* * *

Grandmotherand I took our dinner together in her sitting room when I had finally dismissed the men for the day. Since I'd sampled none, I'd gotten through more than half of the single men of the kingdom in one sitting, although I'd started to lose any ability to differentiate them in my mind and asked for only one to wait in the entire last hour.

"They'll have their numbers soon, and then you may have your tastes of them," Grandmother said, dabbing at the corners of her mouth lightly with her napkin and pushing away her dinner tray. "You'll want to note any conflicts between the men. It's no good to you if they're too busy bickering with one another to fuck you properly, although a little tension can suit now and then. And of course, if any one of them says he's had enough for the day, you send him right out on his ass. No man should be less excited to spend himself in a woman than in his own hand, no matter how many times he's jerked off already."

I'd heard plenty of this when Camellia had decided to start choosing, but I nodded obediently now.

Grandmother, rather than appearing pleased, narrowed her eyes at me. "I have concerns, Bryony."

"You did not like my choices?"

"I do not like your complacency," Grandmother bit out, and I stiffened. "Your mother, your sister, and I were all but tearing down the doors to get to the men on the days of our choosing. You looked bored in the great hall, and now you look…well, certainly not inspired. Perhaps I was wrong to let you wait so long."

Perhaps she was. Perhaps I should've gotten this over with years ago like Camellia. I thought I would change, that I would grow into my Hunger, and instead it never came despite all my waiting.

I stood from my chair and brushed the crumbs from my skirt, striding to the door without waiting for my Grandmother.

"Perhaps you should give up playing chaperone if it disappoints you," I said. "I can manage the next part on my own. Idoknow what to look for in my lovers."

"Of course you do, I've trained you," Grandmother snapped back, but her smile was on at last. "Very well, go and manage the thing. We'll take your sheets in the morning."

I spun away and pushed the doors open, ignoring the sick swoop in my stomach at the reminder.

Choosing was only the first step, but that cold dinner was the last reprieve I'd get. I must cut down my list, meet the men remaining, and then…