She answered him. "My clothing has been sent to the laundress. I have nothing to wear." She looked down at the ground after making her confession.
"Do you need clothing in my home?" His question threw her off guard.
He had recently been so cold to her. Where were these questions coming from? She wondered. Bouvier didn't know how to answer the question, so she smiled at him and spoke, "You wanted to see me, my lord." She knew she sounded annoyed.
That was because she was.
"Sit down." He told her, extending his hand to the other pieces of furniture ornately placed by the fire. She did as he requested and sat down on the settee. It was positioned across from his chair. He continued, "My spies have returned from the island." His admission piqued her interest, "It seems that all you claim is true."
He said nothing more. Sonia had hoped for an apology, but she would have to settle for his admission. She had also expected him to tell her that she was free to leave, but he didn't.
She searched his face. "Am I free to go?" She asked him.
"No."
" No?" She was shocked at his answer. The old Adolf would have never treated her like this. He would have kept his word. "Why can't I leave? You have confirmation that I was telling you the truth."
He took another sip of his drink as if they were discussing a mundane topic like the weather and not him keeping her as his prisoner. "You are no longer my prisoner." He announced. "You will warm my bed now."
Bouvier said nothing. Tears slid down her cheeks as she thought about the drastic change she saw in the man she loved. He, however, took offense, thinking she was crying out of disgust at having to sleep with a deformed freak like him. He yanked her up from the settee by her wrist and squeezed. She tried to pull away. He wouldn't let her.
He leaned closer to her. Their foreheads almost touched, she could smell the liqueur on his breath. "Save the tears. You and I both know you've bedded worse." She was about to speak to clear up the misunderstanding, but he kept going, "You want your freedom, Madame. Show me that you are the loyal woman that I met all those years ago."
"I am!" She proclaimed, with new tears springing forth.
"Are you loyal to me?" He asked her.
"Y-Yes, of course," Sonia said.
"I don't believe you. Make me believe you, my sweet Sonia."
She grew frustrated with her tears and wiped them away. She was a grown woman. Tears were for dewy-eyed virgins. She knew what he wanted when he called her loyalty into question. He wanted her. She was nervous. This wasn't some drunk customer at her brothel who refused to take 'no' for an answer and had the right amount of coin. This was once the only man in her life that she had actually trusted and still loved.
"Alright," she said.
She looked into his eyes and rested her hand on his bare cheek. He let go of her wrist and she slowly undressed for him. She let her undergarments fall to the floor. Adolf drank her naked form in. Sonia tried to remove his clothing. He pushed her hands away, took her by the arm, and guided her to the desk.
Adolf lifted Sonia up, placing her bare bottom on top of the cool wood. She watched as he took a small vial with a bright green elixir inside of it. He opened it and drank from it. Bouvier was curious as to what it was. Before she could ask, Adolf was pulling her buttocks off of the table.
Then he held her onto her hips, positioning himself ready to enter. She noticed he was still clothed. This felt so strange to her. They had always been so intimate with each other. Sex had been a beautiful thing between them, where they shared and enjoyed each other's nudity.
As well as wanting to feel the skin on skin. Not this time. She felt him enter her hard. She couldn't hide her pleasure. His thrusts began slow and strong. He picked up his speed, and shortly after Sonia felt her body orgasming. She tried to hold back her moans.
"Pathetic."
She heard him say as he pulled out of her and fastened his trousers. She was left with her legs spread, lying naked on his desk. She slid off of the desk and tried to cover herself up. It wasn't working.
"This is your new life, Sonia. Get used to it. This face isn't going to change. The fun-loving, gullible man I once was isn't coming back. See you at dinner tonight. I will make sure you have something to wear, and the next time we meet I expect you to be ready for me."
He let her go, and at the same time he pushed her down. She softly landed on the settee. She watched as he left the study closing the doors behind him. Bouvier quickly found her clothing, with the realization that She was no longer a prisoner of war. She was a Prisoner of Love...
******
| SYLVIE |
The next day, Sylvie took advantage of the sunshine that peaked its way from behind the dark gray clouds. She had made a decision to go for a bath in the nearby stream. Caleb had brought her soap yesterday, along with other supplies. The water had been cold but the warmth from the sun helped. After she bathed, she languished in the water, and before Sylvie knew it, she had been swimming for a few hours.
Today, she was about recharging, and what better way to do it than swimming. For once, her mind wasn't bogged down with worry or concern for anything or anyone other than herself and her newfound friend. Things seemed to feel as if they were changing for the better. Her death freed her in a way she never thought possible. She really had no ties. Now she could go anywhere.
Be anyone. A new life awaited her. She could stay here, but she could leave. Caleb had made a strong argument. The only way to get off the island was by boat.
The majority of the islanders used the ferry. Very few people left the island unnoticed. If she were to leave this place how would she do it? She pondered. Maybe tonight, she could sneak into town and come up with something.
They continued to walk. Sylvie was startled by the wolf's sudden low growl. Someone was here in the woods with them. She turned around in a slow circle. She saw no one.
She crouched down and began creeping closer to her home. She had no weapon to defend herself with. Sylvie kept her eyes on the wolf. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and his ears were pointed high. He was on alert. That in turn made Sylvie as well. Caleb was long gone and knew he meant his words of not returning. So who was it?
The wolf looked at Sylvie, then continued to slowly walk towards her compromised home. The surrounding area was deep woods. The house was surrounded by it. 20-30 feet of tall green grass surrounded the perimeter. The bush now hid the pair.
They had crouched down 20 feet away. She saw the couple then, Amaruq and her mother. His men were swarming her small hut on horses. She clenched her jaw. This was all his fault.
He almost killed her, and now he was wreaking havoc on the island. She despised him and his band of tough ruffians. Sylvie knew her mother was the real culprit in this situation. They were the only two who knew this home was still here. The time had come.
A time she really didn't think she would have to face. She was coming face to face with the woman whom she loved and protected the most. Her mother was her everything. Her life revolved around her. She had to make a quick decision.
Should she move on? Or should she go to her mother and let her see that she was alive? Caleb's words replayed in the back of her mind. Her mother had probably known about Amaruq starting the fire at Bouvier's. She had essentially chosen financial security and adoration over Sylvie.
There was no more denying that fact anymore. She watched her mother walk out of the house. She was being escorted by him. Sylvie saw how beautiful and expensive the clothes her mother wore, but not a stitch was black. She didn't have the appearance of a grieving mother.
She wore a snide smile on her ruby red lips as Amaruq assisted her down the narrow, wooden porch stairs. She could hear them speaking, but she couldn't make out what was being said. Sylvie watched Amaruq kiss her mother. Watching them made her sad. Before all of this happened, Sylvie endured sleeping like a beggar on the streets.
Her mother had made her feel guilty. In a way, she had made her life working at the brothel seem excruciating. Sylvie knew Amaruq was her mother's main patron. When she would speak about him to Sylvie she sometimes made it sound dangerous. Why was she with him now here?