Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
“You will not tell me what to do,” he spat.
“No,” she said. “He will.”
And with not another word, but he did hear her swallowed sob, his wife swept from the room.
She was gone nary a second before a tall, straight, good-looking young man in Dellish constabulary greens walked into the room.
Johan pulled the bedclothes tighter about him and announced, “I will have privacy.”
“You will have notice, sir,” the man returned, “that there is irrefutable evidence, as witnessed by me, your wife, and another member of the constabulary.” He tipped his head to the opened doorframe, in which stood another man, less tall, less good-looking, but also wearing constabulary greens. “Of committing adultery.”
Johan’s blood ran cold.
It was not strictly against the law to commit adultery.
However, it was significantly looked down upon.
And if the betrayal was repeated, or longstanding, and a spouse wished to press matters, and had proof, the law there was could make it financially inconvenient.
“Your wife can press dissolution of the household,” the constable told him something Johan knew. “Which she has already charged us with doing. And if you do not understand what that means, it means, with the extent of your infidelity, which management and workers of this establishment alike have shared has lasted years, your wife can petition as her wont for restitution.”
As her wont.
This meant, if his adultery was proved, the length and the extent of it especially, which had been witnessed, and discussed, thus it would be proved, Vanka could make the wildest demand.
And he would be forced to grant it.
This did not happen very often.
Mostly because it was difficult to prove and that was mostly because establishments such as this did not often share about their clienteles’ penchants. If they did, they would find themselves without a clientele.
Something this particular establishment might not have to worry about, if those in it were compensated by the wealthiest bloody king on the gods-damned continent.
Johan fought seething and opened his mouth to try speaking, “I—”
“This, however, is the least of your worries,” the man carried on.
The least of his worries?
The constable continued, “For we are here not only on that errand, as charged by your wife, but on the report that you hired three women, who did not wish to take on this task, but had no choice due to life circumstances, and pressure from you with your title in your position, to spy on the king and queen of a nation allied with Wodell. And that, sir, is an act of treason.”
Johan’s entire frame froze.
“Now, it would be good of you to get dressed and come with us,” the man finished.
“I…they…I…” He pulled himself together. “They, the whores, had no issue taking my money.”
“You can share your version at the tribunal,” the man said. “Now, please, dress.”
“I cannot stand tribunal,” Johan whispered.
The shame alone…
“If King True is feeling charitable, he could simply demand restitution in return for a guilty plea. Though, with a charge as serious as this, it could mean the relinquishing of the Arbor, after, of course, you make other restitution to your wife.”
“The Arbor has been my family’s seat for nine generations,” he whispered.
“Again, please dress, sir.”
“I cannot lose my seat,” Johan told him.
“We can haul you out of here in that sheet,” the constable at the door entered the conversation. “Your choice, milord. But you got about a minute to make it before I do.”
It was no choice.
Johan hurried to dress, feeling anger and shame burning equally as neither member of the constabulary showed the slightest respect by even averting their eyes as he did it.
He had a handle on himself as, fully garbed, he walked their way.
“I demand a message sent immediately to my solicitor,” he declared.
“Sure,” the man in the door stated, shifting out of his way.
Johan stopped before he moved through it. “I also demand a word with my wife.”
He would talk some sense into the stupid woman.
“We can make the request, but she’s free not to grant it.”
He tipped his head back. “She’ll grant it.”
“To save you a burning disappointment,” the man in the door began, and Johan decided he did not like him very much, “she watched your performance through the window.”
“The window?”
The man pointed across the room.
Johan looked there to see the mussed bed overhung with the new looking glass at the wall at the head.
“You can see yourself on this side, we can see you on the other,” the man said.
Johan’s throat closed.
“And she could too,” the constable finished.
Vanka had…
Watched?
He felt his skin start itching.
He ignored this sensation and snapped, “Is this magic?”
“Nah, just a certain kind of silver.”
“This cannot be legal,” he bit out.
“I know no laws against it,” the constable that had entered the room tired of the conversation and shared this by coming to Johan and taking his elbow in his hand. “Though there are laws against spying on a visiting monarch for any reason not condoned by the king. That’s frowned on rather seriously,” he stated, leading Johan forcibly from the room.