by L. J. Stock
“We need some privacy and the king requested we use the ballroom so that you’ll be safe.”
“Wouldn’t I be safe with all those guards?” I asked, stepping onto the mat and grinning at him as I bounced on the balls of my feet.
Damon gave me a look that said I should already know the answer to that, and I did. I would be a distraction to them, almost as much as they would be a distraction for me. There was a twinge of something more, but it was gone before I could decipher it. His hazel eyes were watching me closely as he stepped forward. Apparently we were getting right down to business.
“I'm going to grab you. I want you to try to fight me off the best way you can. Don't worry about hurting me. I need to see how much you know so I can develop a regime that's right for you.”
It all sounded very official. Filled with apprehension, I nodded again and rolled my shoulders like it would have any effect on my performance whatsoever. I watched him as he circled my body. When he made it behind me I expected an attack and tensed, but he surprised me by circling again. He rounded three more times before he jumped me from behind, and I finally understood what he'd been doing – he'd been goading me into a false sense of security, and had succeeded, catching me completely off guard.
Damon’s thick, warm arm circled my neck violently and pulled me back roughly against his chest. His other arm circled my waist, trapping both of my arms against my sides and my back flat against him. I tensed, my first instinct to panic at the sudden influx of violence appearing and disappearing just as quickly. My rigid back was pressed so firmly against his front, it made the adrenaline soar through my veins.
“Now fight me off,” he whispered in my ear, his breath moving my hair over my shoulder.
I closed my eyes and focused on his limbs and where they connected with my body. I knew he wasn't gripping me with his full force, which meant I could fight against it… maybe. Using my own weight against his, I pushed forward and felt the thick ropes of muscles in his arms tighten against my neck and cut off my air. I continued to push until I was bent over and he was off balance leaning over me. I managed to wriggle my arms out from the one circling my waist and clawed at the arm around my neck. I felt him shift infinitesimally and that’s when I made my move, throwing my body to the side so his weight worked against him and pulled us both to the ground.
He lost his grip on my neck, his back slamming down onto the mat, sending dust from the straw puffing into the beams of weak winter sunlight. I fell to a knee and checked on him briefly before I bolted away from him. Not that I got far. His hand shot out and wrapped around my ankle, pulling me back at him harder than I was expecting. My knees hit the hardwood at the edge of the mat with a burst of pain, and before I could draw a breath, I was on my back with him straddling me, holding both of my wrists above my head.
“Never underestimate your opponent’s reflexes. Get out of reach of their hands before you do anything else.”
The close proximity of his body made it impossible to focus on his voice or the lesson. The weight of his body against mine made the crackle of static electricity roll over my skin and accumulate as pressure in my stomach. It was impossible to think of anything but how much I wanted him to make some kind of move. As irrational, reckless, and ridiculous as it was, my whole body called for him. I had to snap out of it and focus.
“So,” I asked breathlessly, deflecting my emotions yet again. “How bad am I?”
“Terrible.” He smirked in response, rising to his feet and offering me his hand. I took it, trying to keep my mind a blank slate as my body reacted without permission. “Let's go again, but this time try using all of your appendages to fight me off.”
We fought for at least another two hours and my body was aching more than I wanted to admit by the time we were through. There were aches on the aches and it made me feel as though I’d aged a decade in two hours. Somehow, I'd managed to get slammed against the mat a dozen times, and trying to hit him had led to aching fists, mainly because his whole body was one giant muscle. I was limping and sore, and my ass felt like it had taken a beating.
“You did well, Cass,” Damon praised me while sitting on the mat with his legs bent and his forearms on his knees. I was flat on my back on the mat next to him, still fighting to catch my breath.
“Yeah, right, is that why my body hurts like this?” I moaned, rotating my shoulders. “Please tell me this gets easier.”
“In some ways it will, but the king has requested to be present for your hostage training exercise.”
“Hostage training?” I squeaked, my voice betraying me by cracking. I rolled to my side with a wince as I waited for him to answer.
Damon rubbed his neck with his hand, looking uncomfortable. I could see it wasn't an idea he relished. If it was anything like it sounded, I couldn’t say that I was exactly looking forward to it either. It certainly didn't sound like my idea of fun.
It took him a while to find the right words, and eventually he seemed resigned to the fact that there was no easy way to explain it.
“It's something we all have to go through. We have to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. If we're caught and compromised, we can't give away any of the realm’s secrets. Thánatos and his men have been known to go to extremes to get whatever information they want and need.”
I shuddered involuntarily. I really didn't like the sound of that, which meant I had to get my body in shape if I was going to be subjecting it to physical torture. As much as I appreciated the king wanting to be there, I knew he would more than likely pull the plug as soon as my body protested against the devices they'd use to get me to bend to their will. If I was going to do this, I had to do it all the way. I couldn't get pulled out because I reacted. It didn’t happen like that in the real world. There would be no one to save me from the pain.
“Is it really a good idea for him to be there for that?”
“Not really, but you don't say no to the king, and the moment you're crowned as princess, the same will go for you. Unless it directly violates your safety protocol.”
“So when will this happen?” I asked, nervously biting my lip.
“When I think you're ready, and when they want it to happen. Now, let’s get you home so you can take a hot bath and relax those muscles.”
I nodded and rolled to my back. I felt like a turtle stuck on its shell as I rocked to get momentum enough to stand. Damon had no problems getting to his feet and laughed as I held up my hands in a request for help. As he pulled me to my feet, my body screamed in protest.
What the hell had I managed to get myself into?
Chain Reactions
The next couple of months turned into a scheduled regime for me. I had been building up my distance running with Alexa and Zander in the mornings. I was up to almost six miles now and I could feel my body getting stronger. The run was always followed by a quick shower before my trip to Mortisali, where I would spend a large majority of the day with my father in meetings or just alone with him, talking about protocol and traditions if no cabinets were scheduled.
One thing I quickly discovered about the meetings was that they were filled with shouting men, all arguing about how to get more from the townships they governed in the king’s name. I wasn’t so sure I agreed with what some of them were saying, but as an objective observer I had no choice but to sit with my mouth shut and listen as the wealthy tried to gain more wealth while bleeding the poor dry.
The war meetings, a little more palatable, were always discussions about whether they should attack or defend. They tracked the movements of the offensive onslaughts on a huge map that looked identical to ours, only with different names and divisions of territories. According to their last meeting, Thánatos’ army was pushing hard to gain access farther inland, which to me was a terrifying prospect. The more land they had to form their armies, the more power they had behind them in their advance toward the palace. There was so much more to it than I ever could have imagined, and I was learning s
lowly how to be diplomatic when asked to participate or give my opinions.
With more responsibility came more guards. While I was in Mortisali, although Damon was lead, I also had Rasmus and Anker as guards. Both men generally didn’t stray far from my room while I was in there, and they were well-camouflaged shadows when we moved around the palace. There were days I found Rasmus, the taller and better humored of the two, watching my training. His smile was always full as I occasionally got the better of Damon. He was a joker, and I could often hear his laughter even when I couldn’t see him.
Training with Damon was generally followed the meetings or time with my father. My body, now stronger, was able to work efficiently, and Damon and I were onto the more combative parts of my training. Head to head, we were a decent match. He was still much stronger than I was, but I had mastered how to use his weight against him, and it all came with learning to use my size and speed to my advantage.
Unfortunately, training with Damon was only serving to encourage my affections toward him. I never acted on them, no matter how much I felt the need to, because I knew he was simply doing his job. I'd caught him, on more than one occasion, flirting with other women on the staff, so I knew he had no interest in me, especially not in the same ways I was fixated on him. It was something I’d had to come to terms with over the months, and though I couldn't control the way my body reacted to him, or the way my heart lurched when those hazel eyes caught mine, I had learned to not let myself dwell on it. I could not let my emotions get the better of me.
Most evenings, I weight-trained with Alexa and Zander in the barn at the farmhouse. I pushed my body and mind to extremes, knowing I needed to work out the frustration of being so close to Damon all day. If I wasn’t worn out by then, there was no way I’d be able to sleep with the constant barrage of thoughts in my head. Unfortunately, internalizing my feelings only seemed to let the emotions develop into stagnant energy. It was a never-ending cycle, but I faced the fact that I had never been in better shape in my life.
In my time alone, I tried to find myself and who I was within this preordained destiny of mine. Sure, I’d learned a few home truths about myself, but there was still a question of who I was as a person under all of the expectations they’d given me. Most days, I could barely look at myself in the mirror because it was getting harder and harder to recognize the face gazing back at me. When it all became too much, I would break free of the house and just wander with Acantha's dog, Mina, letting my mind go blank for a few glorious moments.
Thankfully, what made all of this easier was the fact that my mom had busied herself with dividing time between the farmhouse and Steven's home. We’d discovered Liana was pregnant again and it was the perfect excuse for Mom to spend more time there with Liana, Steven and Oliver. It was, after all, in the name of making it easier for her daughter-in-law.
No one had heard from Robert since the day I looked at the tapestries and opened my big mouth to the king. I would have been worried, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. I didn't think the king would have killed him. At least I hoped he wouldn't. Robert may have been one of the biggest assholes in the two dimensions, but that didn't mean I wished him dead. At least not in reality. Fantasies, however, were a gray area.
Spending so much time with the king every day had helped us to build a better relationship, and I was no longer the bumbling fool I had been around him when we first met. I found that we had a lot in common, and I was discovering more of the traits I'd inherited from him. He was kind behind that intimidating stare and smooth, yet lethal voice of his. He seemed to have as many endless questions about my life and my thoughts as I did about him.
It took me a while to persuade him, but I was finally allowed access to the albums filled with the thousands of surveillance pictures he’d had taken of me over the years. They were all categorized by year, not necessarily calendar years but years of my life. They were all there, without fail – June twenty-sixth to June twenty-sixth – birth to age one, and every year after. It was odd to see my life witnessed from a distance. Mom and Robert had never displayed pictures of me, and Mom had confessed that she’d hidden all of the ones she’d taken, so these were the only images I had to compare with my memories.
I hadn’t realized how sad I’d always looked. There were brief moments when my smile was genuine, but I was always alone, hopping in the puddles and laughing. Only I knew what I was laughing at, of course, since Damon was invisible. After the twelfth album, I could see the stark changes in myself and my appearance. I’d become more withdrawn, dark circles taking their places under my eyes, and my bones becoming more prominent. My skin looked gray and ashen, while my eyes looked empty and dead. All of the life had left me, and even as the subject looking back on it, I could admit that. The closer I got to the razor incident, the more sick looking I became. I never got to the point with the car accident, though. My father forbade it. He couldn’t stand to see the sadness emanating from the pages beyond that.
“Cass, did you hear a word I just said?” Damon asked, his hands on his hips as he panted. We'd just finished a sparring session. I had been pacing, out of breath with my hand on my ribs, my head not in the game, and he’d managed to get a decent jab in.
“No, sorry. I was miles away,” I breathed out, relishing the burn that told me I’d worked out hard. I much preferred the rigorous regimes because I could feel the tension ebbing away.
“I said your father has asked to see you in his chambers this afternoon.”
“Really? He didn't say anything this morning. I only left him a couple of hours ago. You’d think he would have remembered to mention that.”
“That's because he didn't want to talk to you in front of the cabinet. It would be just like you to demand what the hell was going on right then and there. You’re the most impatient person I know.”
“Thanks, Damon. It's good to know you have faith in me.” I snorted, rolling on the balls of my feet to get rid of the ache in my calves.
Damon looked to the heavens cynically and sat on the floor, grabbing one of the bottles of water I'd brought over from my dimension with me. I didn't like the taste of the water in Mortisali. It was hard, and the process of purification left a bad taste in my mouth. I guess it was all about what you got used to, but I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to that taste.
“Not my decision, I assure you. Your father also asked that you let the ladies dress you for the occasion. I think you're dining with him.”
I groaned. As beautiful as the dresses were, they weighed a ton and always felt awkward. I had to dress in appropriate attire for the meetings because it still wasn't proper for women to dress in pants here, so I’d been subjected to dresses every day. I preferred the light day dresses to the evening wear, but the formal attire was still a pain in my ass. I was glad when it came time to train and I could change into my workout gear and get all disgusting and sweaty, because it made me feel like me for a while. I’d never really been the overly feminine type to begin with. I’d gone from tomboy to recluse to being thrown into this combative lifestyle. After all these months, I still hadn’t fully adjusted. At least I knew the food would be worth dressing for. The king always had the best meals served in his quarters.
“I guess I should get going if I want to visit Steven then.” I sighed, draining a couple of mouthfuls from my own water bottle and rolling my shoulders to get the kinks out.
“Hey, Cass,” Damon called as I walked rubber legged toward the door.
“Yeah?” I replied, stopping to turn and face him. It wasn’t exactly necessary, but I never missed an excuse to talk face to face with him. It was yet another one of my opportunities to indulge myself in him.
“I'm going to advise the king that you're ready for your hostage training. I wanted to tell you first in case you felt you weren't prepared.”
I tried my best not to react to his statement. The thought of hostage training had been on my mind since the first mention. I’d tortured myself imagini
ng how and what would go down and how. The scenarios I dreamed up were enough to keep me awake at night.
Apparently, my legs weren’t the only things that were jellied at the implication of it.
My body was stronger than it had been in my whole life, though. I was fitter and healthier and I knew I could take the blows, because Damon and I sometimes went flat out, and there were stray punches that hit home. If there was ever a time when I was ready, I knew it was now, but it didn’t quash the ramifications of what that would entail, and I would have to deal with that when it came time.
“I think I'm ready,” I said, meeting his eyes as the full weight of my resolution settled within me. I had an idea how rough it was going to be from a brief conversation I’d had with Alexa when I first found out. There would be pain involved, but I needed to prove to myself, as well as everyone else, that I wasn’t a delicate flower that needed to be kept in a glass case.
Damon smiled at my admission and nodded, but left it at that. He didn't need to say any more. I had enough nerves without, once again, being warned about what was coming. I just hoped it wouldn't be him dealing out the cruel and unusual punishment. I caught him going easy on me too many times. If I was going to do this, it had to be all or nothing.
“I’ll meet you at the farmhouse then,” he said, picking up towels and rolling up the mats.
I stopped short of the door, my outstretched hand barely six inches from the ornate handle. “You’re coming with me?”
“Of course I am. I’m your guard.”
“Well this should be interesting,” I replied, taking the last step forward and twisting. “My brother finally gets to meet the boy who was there when he couldn’t be.”
I didn’t give Damon time to respond. It was a rhetorical comment that needed no further examination. He knew what I was referring to. Steven, not knowing whether he was heard or not, had thanked Damon every night when he’d come to tuck me in and make sure I was warm enough. I was never sure if he truly believed in the other world I saw, because even with Mom’s explanation when she’d finally contacted him, he seemed a little unsure. Steven finally meeting Damon was going to be validation for every time I mentioned his name growing up. I just hoped Steve didn’t take a swing at him for leaving the way he did.