"LET ME GO! YOU SONS OF BASTARDS!"
I thrashed against their grip, my nails scraping against their armor, my legs kicking wildly. But they were stronger—so much stronger.
They shoved me into a chamber. The door slammed shut behind me with a sound like thunder.
I was alone.
The room was vast, dimly lit by a single oil lamp at its center. But what little light there was revealed splendor beyond measure. Gold. Everything was gold. The walls gleamed with hammered gold, etched with patterns so intricate they seemed to writhe in the flickering light. Gold columns rose to the ceiling. Gold vases lined the shelves.
I stared at the walls, mapping their patterns.
Whose room is this?
"You."
The voice came from behind me.
"You fool. You mocked me in the presence of the court—and my whole kingdom!"
I know that voice.
It was the voice of my sister's killer.
I will kill Tenebrarum.
"ARE YOU NOT LISTENING?"
I turned.
He stood in the shadows, his silver mask gleaming.
"YOU BASTARD! LET ME GO!"
TASS!
His hand struck my face.
The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt. His fingers dragged across my skin like claws, tearing, my skin. I felt blood well up on my cheek.
His hand tangled in my hair. He pulled, dragging me upward, my scalp screaming in agony.
"Let me go!" I struggled, but it was useless. He was a monster. He was a monster.
"You laid with my brother!" His fingers dug into my cheeks, forcing my head back. He dragged me across the wall, my spine scraping against the gold. "WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME AS?"
SPUT!
I spat in his face.
CRACK!
He slammed my head against the wall.
The world exploded into white. I felt my skull crack against the gold, felt blood gush from my lips, felt my teeth rattle in my jaw. He released me, and I crumpled to the floor.
I lay there, gasping, blood pooling beneath my face.
"You think you can mock me?" His voice was ice. "You think you can lay with my brother and make a fool of me before the entire court?"
I tried to speak, but only blood came out.
"You are nothing." He crouched beside me, his mask inches from my face. "A mortal whore. A plaything. And yet you dare—"
"I have the right to practice... practice..."
"WHAT DID YOU Say!"
His voice cracked through the chamber like a whip. His fingers found my throat again, lifting me from the floor, pressing me against the gold wall. My feet dangled above the marble, my toes barely brushing the stone.
"I asked you a question, whore."
My vision swam. Blood dripped from my lips onto his mask.
"I..." My voice was a rasp. "I quoted... your rules."
His grip tightened.
"Thou shalt serve thy lord upon his bed... until he is satisfied..." I gasped, clawing at his wrist. "Until he speaks the end... for he is merciful enough to grant thee practice with lesser dark ones... to keep thy body fit for his use."
I smiled through the blood.
"That was your rule, was it not? I obeyed. I practiced. And you are angry because I chose your brother instead of some common guard?"
His hand trembled against my throat.
"You are way above the others," I continued, my voice a whisper. "I only practiced with someone... worthy of my time. WHAT IS THE SIN IN THAT?"
For a moment, he did not move.
Then he laughed.
"You are either the bravest fool I have ever met... or the most foolish brave one."
He released me.
I fell to the floor, gasping, my hands flying to my throat.
He crouched beside me, his mask inches from my face.
"Since you love to practice," he said, his voice low and cold, "guards—teach her what must be done."
What?
No.
Two praetorians rushed in, their armor clinking, their faces hidden behind helmets of black iron. They bowed low before their prince.
"No... no... no... no..."
"She is eager enough to practice for my sake," Tenebrarum said, stepping back. "I will see how well she has prepared herself."
"NO!"
"Teach her." His voice was ice. "My brother would have been too kind to her. Teach her better."
"No!" I scrambled backward, pressing myself against the wall. If I could disappear, I would. If I could melt into the gold, I would. "No, please—"
The guards advanced.
I did not even lay with his brother. I did not lay with him. It was just a kiss at the ball—nothing more. He took me to his room, gave me hot tea, and that was all. This suffering was too much for a sin I did not commit.
"What are you waiting for?" Tenebrarum snapped.
"My lord," one guard said, bowing. "We are honoured, but I must ask—here? Or—"
"Make use of the floor." Tenebrarum settled onto a gilded couch, his mask catching the lamplight. "I will watch from here."
"NO!"
"You wanted to practice." His voice was flat. "Then practice."
The guards reached for me.
I screamed.
"Let me go!" I thrashed wildly, clutching at the air, at the gold wall, at anything. My nails scraped against the marble floor, leaving bloody trails. The monsters seized me—one by each arm—and dragged me toward the center of the room. My legs kicked, my heels striking stone, but they did not stop.
They forced me down. One pressed his knee into my spine, pinning me to the cold floor. The other grabbed my ankles and wrenched them apart, spreading my legs wide.
I reached for the knife in one guard's belt. My fingers brushed the hilt—almost there—but his hand clamped around my wrist, twisting until I cried out. The other guard unbuckled the last clasp of my lower garment. The fabric tore away, and the cold air hit my bare skin.
I was naked.
"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "Please—or I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!"
The guards did not answer. Their belts came undone with soft, deliberate clicks. One of them fumbled with his trousers, his breath hot and ragged.
Is this rape, or madness?
"So you are so scared to lay with me yourself that you send your boys?" I spat, twisting my head to look at Tenebrarum. He sat on the gilded couch, his mask gleaming, watching. "You're a weakling, Tenebrarum."
The mask tilted. The golden eyes narrowed.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me," I gasped. "Your brother is better than you. You're a bastard. How did you even get the throne? What a mistake—"
He moved faster than I could see. One moment he was on the couch; the next, he was between the guards, flinging them aside like rag dolls. They crashed against the gold walls and crumpled to the floor.
"Get out!" His voice was thunder. "And shut all the doors!"
"Yes, my lord!" The guards scrambled to their feet and fled, slamming the doors behind them.
No! What have I done?
The chamber fell silent.
"In all the fools I have seen," he turned, his voice low and deadly, "you are the worst."
Then he lunged.
His hand closed around my thigh—rough, unyielding—and he hoisted me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. My stomach lurched. My fists beat against his back, but it was like striking stone.
"AHHHHHH!"
I still had the knife. My fingers found the hilt, and I drove it into his back—deep, savage, desperate.
Yes!
But he did not move. He did not make a sound. The knife simply... stayed. Stuck in his flesh like a thorn in bark. His back glowed—a soft, white light that spread from the wound like ripples in a pond. The flesh healed. The blade was pushed out, clattering to the floor.
"You rapist!" I screamed, thrashing uselessly. "Let me be!"
He carried me deeper into his chambers—past columns of gold, past a hearth that burned with cold, blue flames. The room beyond was dark. A bed dominated the center—massive, draped in silk the color of blood.
He threw me onto it.
I hit the mattress hard, bouncing. The silk was cold beneath my bare skin. I scrambled backward, pressing myself against the headboard, my knees drawn to my chest.
There is no escape.
No door. No window to fly over.
He stood at the foot of the bed, his mask still in place, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths.
"You wanted my attention," he said. "You have it."
Then—
Aurelia.
The voice was inside my head.
This is what you have been preparing for all your life. To meet him. To reach his peak period. To end him.
My breath caught.
This is to your advantage—not Tenebrarum's. You only get opportunities like this once in a blue moon. Use it well.
The words rang through my skull like temple bells.
Use it well.
I looked at him—at the mask, at the golden eyes, at the body that could heal any wound.
He is a monster.
But he is also a man.
And a man has weaknesses.
My hands trembled. My heart pounded. My stomach turned with disgust.
But I spread my legs.
Slowly. Deliberately. The silk slipping away from my thighs, exposing the bare flesh between them.
Anything that will happen—let it happen.
I do not care.
Let the heavens do their worst.
---
To be continued...