The Prince's Songbird Slave ✔️

That Sinking Feeling

Thoughts around time of publishing: My room looks like I'm majoring in the chaos theory.

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It was a tradition that on the night of the 10th the royals who had already gone through the Gathering and officially become the year before would arrange a huge party for the other kids and young adults who pledged to the kingdom that year. The tenth was chosen because in the days that followed everyone would be even more busy than before, and being hungover (according to those who had made the mistake before) was a bad mistake.

It was with regards to the party that Freya had been trying to contact me. As she'd been one of the organizers I was obliged to attend, so she told me later in a text.

I remembered that at the last Gaithering someone had commented how we should throw a night time pool party, and I don't know what magic they'd used, but somehow this time around they'd managed to make it a reality.

An out of control reality.

Kids were dancing crazily, getting completely trashed, and staggering around the poolside. Most people were walking around in their swimming costumes, bikinis or swimming trunks. The odd person even had enough confidence to flouncy about in their speedos. A number of people were messing around in the shallow end of the pool. The majority of people were at the poolside on the deck chairs or at the bar. I was just bored. I mean, it was one hell of a party – somehow the poolside bar had been stocked with every alcohol and liquor know to mankind and supernatural alike, and I had the feeling Freya was heavily involved in organizing that part. The umbrellas above the loungers had been wrapped around with fairy lights or hung with glow sticks, and many people were supporting glow in the dark bracelets. There was even LED lights at the bottom of the pool that were changing color slowly.

Despite the party atmosphere I just wasn't in the mood, and chose not to drink. You might call me boring, but I figured that it'd be a good idea for there to be at least one sober person at this party when there were so many reckless idiots about.

There was more than the eighty odd young royals in attendance – and nearly all of them had brought their slaves along to serve beverages, food, entertainment and to serve as paparazzi and record the events of the night on their phones.

Maybe it was because there were so many people here, or maybe it was because their inhibitions had hit the floor, but it felt like I was constantly having to beat people away from Evelyn with a stick.

"Look mate," I told a guy I didn't remember ever seeing before, "she doesn't want to go with you."

"She's not saying no."

"Piss off." I snapped with a low growl. His words disgusted me and I wanted to rip him to pieces for his attitude. Luckily he got the message, and soon a girl wearing a bikini walked past and he decided to change his target.

I would have gone up to her and warned her of his bad intentions, but I figured her large bulky werewolf bodyguard would be more than capable of keeping her safe. I sighed and looked over at Evelyn.

In the midst of all this mayhem she seemed to be enjoying herself, her legs swinging happily off the edge of the bar stool we'd nicked from the bar area. She was in a good mood, unlike me, despite the fact all we'd been doing for the past hour was sitting about on the fringes of the party. She was wearing a simple white dress, it was short, and I wouldn't say it was that revealing - though that didn't stop guys from staring at her legs a bit longer than I felt comfortable with. I myself had to try an not stare at her too much, but that was a bit of an ongoing problem. But she was definitely quite well covered considering what some of the others at the party were wearing.