Darla meets Stacey’s gaze.
“They are having a ball tomorrow night. You are all expected to dress up as usual, but this time you’ll be on display for all the brothers, instead of just Sidney.”
I swallow back the lump in my throat, but my voice still wavers when I speak.
“Does Sidney get a say in who goes, or who stays?”
Darla takes a deep breath, her brow furrowed as she looks at me. “I don’t know, Lauren. I simply don’t know.”
“So we all have to face the brothers? He isn’t going to pick out the four he paid for, and send the rest?”
There’s a snigger behind me. “You think he paid for you personally, out of his own money? Seems to me he bought however many women he bought, and it just so happens daddy gave him funds for a certain amount.”
Darla ignores the comment, but her shoulders seem to sag ever so slightly, and she looks very tired.
“My instructions are that all of you are to dress for the ball.” She shrugs. “Maybe Master Sidney is going to pick four beforehand to stay behind, maybe he has no say in which of you will be chosen. I really don’t know.”
I nod, my heart sinking. I wonder how much detail the brothers have on Sidney’s expenses. He spent far more on me than any of these other women, combined, probably. If they find out that, what could that mean for me?
Chapter 8
We’re supposed to be getting ready for the ball, but Stacey is in tears.
“I can’t do it,” she says. “I can’t be taken by someone else. What if all those rumours are true? How will I survive? How will any of us survive?”
I wrap an arm around her. I wish I could tell her she’s pregnant, that Sidney will never let her be taken. But how can I say such a thing. Her bleeding isn’t due for another week yet. And I don’t even know how much say Sidney has in all of this. What if I tell her she’s fine, and then she’s not? She’ll hate me forever. What if Sidney has no control at all over who is selected?
And surely, if he did have some say over who his brothers could pick, it would only be those women taken to the ball, and not all of us.
“Shhh...” I say, squeezing her tightly. “We don’t know who’ll they’ll select yet. There’s twelve of us, and they’re only picking six. That’s a fifty-fifty chance of staying, right? And Sidney took such time with you the other night. He kept you with him, all night long. And you said it was good, that he treated you well. Lovingly, by the sounds of things.” I cringe at the suggestion I’ve probably just implanted into Stacey’s head, but I’m getting desperate. She has to get ready, and if she’s been crying… well. There are men who like women to cry, and it’s rarely for good reasons. I rub her back as I continue. “That’s got to mean something, surely?”
Stacey nods her head, wiping away her tears with the back of a hand.
“It does, I guess,” she says.
“Come on, then,” I say. “Let’s get ready. We’ll get ourselves tidy, looking nice enough, but perhaps not too nice? Maybe a little less makeup than usual, a dress that’s not too dressy? If we don’t stand out, then we’ll be less likely to be picked.”
Stacey nods again, and I pray that by dressing down, even a little, we’ll be overlooked by Sidney’s brothers, and also that Sidney himself will have some say in who stays and who goes.
He paid for four of us, didn’t he? Surely that means something.
Then again, I was the most expensive woman out of us all. Does that mean his father paid for me?
We get dressed alongside the others, stepping back when they push in for space, waiting until they’ve all picked the nicest dresses before we select ours.
Once everyone is ready, we’re directed through Sidney’s viewing room, and down a corridor to a large and elaborate ball room, which seems much too much for such a small group. Four men, twelve women. That’s all of us, in a room designed for at least a hundred.
The whole thing seems much too much for the few us of present, tables set with all the detail, candles, glasses, cutlery galore – so many different sized spoons I’m not certain what each one could possibly be used for.
We’re seated randomly, at least, I hope it’s randomly, four women and two men either side of a long table, each man between two women.
I’m stuck between Nancy and one of Sidney’s older brothers, Frensen, who leers at my chest from the moment we’re introduced.
I can’t think of anything worse.
The night starts off well enough, mingling and dancing, and I stick by Stacey’s side, all too aware of the hungry gazes of our Master’s brothers as they undress us with their eyes.
But they aren’t the only ones doing any examining here. I take the opportunity to check out the energy of the other brothers. It’s a little hard to spot tonight, with emotions running high, but eventually I can confirm, to myself at least, that Sidney’s brothers are infertile, just as he was.
That should help to make him feel better.
It certainly makes me feel better. The sooner Stacey’s pregnancy is confirmed, the sooner we can get on with making Sidney king, and the better life has got to be for all of us once that happens.
But when the meal arrives, and we’re forced to sit, to interact with these men, I suddenly feel ill.
“Which of you is my brother’s favourite?” Frensen asks me, his hand on my thigh.
I resist the urge to push it away, who knows what the result of tonight might be? If I upset him now, and then end up with him as my master, I could face all sorts of horrible punishments.
I shrug. “I don’t think he has favourites.”
Nancy sniggers.
“That’s because she is the favourite,” she says, glaring at me with such hate.
Frensen’s eyes light up.
“Ah. You must be skilled in the bedroom then.”
I keep my face neutral. “Like I said. I don’t think the Master has favourites. Although,” I turn to Nancy, keeping my voice bright. “He did comment to me how much he loved your back massages.”
“He did?” Nancy’s eyes light up, and then she quickly guards her face again. “I think you’re making that up.”
“I do like a good back massage.” Frensen turns his attention to Nancy. “You’re looking particularly stunning, out of this rabble,” he says. She smiles, but it seems forced. His eyes seem permanently fixed on her breasts, and she must notice this, because she thrusts them out a little further. Surely she doesn’t want to be picked by Frensen?
I hunch my shoulders ever so slightly, and glance around for Stacy. She’s up at the end of the table, next to Sidney, for which I breathe a sigh of relief. At least she’s going to be looked after tonight.
“I don’t think we determined what it is that makes you my brother’s favourite?” Frensen’s question interrupts my train of thought, and I’m forced to hold his gaze again. I have to suppress a scowl.
“I’m not his favourite,” I say.
Nancy leans across me, exposing more of her cleavage than ever. “If you ask me, it’s because she’s a witch,” she says.
“I’m right here, Nancy.” I point out.
Nancy ignores me, and Frensen joins in, leaning closer to Nancy.
“And why might you say that?” he asks.
“Master rejected her on their first night, she’d barely been in his rooms ten minutes. And then next thing you know she has her own room, all to herself, while the rest of us still have to share the dorm. Even those of us he requests night after night.”
“Well, well.” Frensen looks at me, his eyes narrowed, and a chill travels my spine. This can’t end well.
His reaction has given Nancy encouragement. “She must have seduced him, or used some sort of powers on him, to get favours the rest of us can’t possibly receive, no matter how deep we can take him.”
There’s something sultry about Nancy’s tone, like she’s trying to seduce Frensen herself. I can’t believe she’s doing this. Hasn’t she heard the rumours?
> Frensen glances back at Nancy.
“You know witches aren’t real, don’t you?”
Nancy’s eyes widen, and she falters, but Frensen doesn’t seem to notice.
He sits up in his chair. “You know,” he says. “There’s no such thing as magic, or powers.” He waves a hand around as he speaks. “It’s all superstitious nonsense. I mean, have you ever actually seen a spell cast? Or heard of some miraculous impossible thing happening, from a reliable source who isn’t just passing on the story that’s been told so many times it’s been twisted dreadfully.” Nancy frowns, confused.
“When the world is in chaos as ours is,”Frensen continues, “people are afraid. They want to find someone to blame. It’s completely understandable, if also completely unfair. But if you can blame a witch, and burn a witch, you all feel so much better. Like maybe if you can take all the evil out of the world it will all turn into a much better place.” He leans closer to her, his voice lowered. “But nobody considers themselves evil, in burning the poor innocent woman in the first place. Setting alight a human being, while she’s still alive, I might add. Imagine how painful that must be, the agony she must experience before she dies. If there’s any evil in this world, that’s got to be at the top of the list right there. Now that is truly sickening, even for someone like me.”
Nancy’s face flushes, and she sits up, her back straight.
“Better.” Frensen sneers. “I do prefer a woman who knows how to keep her mouth shut, and do as she’s told.”
I eat the rest of my meal in silence. Frensen doesn’t bother me again, turning instead to harass the poor woman seated on his other side. She is quiet and meek, keeping her eyes down, and only speaking when spoken to. I wonder whether she heard our conversation or not. Either way, she’s probably just got herself to the top of his list.
When the food is removed the music starts up again, and we women are informed that we are to dance with whoever asks us.
I dance with Sidney’s other brothers, whose eyes also seem unable to rise above my neck, and who step on my feet at every turn. Hands grab my bottom and breasts, and it takes every inch of strength not to react to these unwelcome advances.
The youngest sneers at me as the dance ends. “You could’ve been my pick, if you’d bothered to tidy yourself up more. I won’t have a woman who doesn’t know how to fix her appearance for me.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. At least that’s one less brother to worry about.
But then it’s Frensen’s turn.
The music begins for a waltz, and he pulls me close, one hand on the small of my back, the other squeezing my fingers so tight they lose circulation.
He’s almost a head taller than me, my nose coming to rest just at the top of his shoulder, and he leans in, his mouth almost touching my ear.
“I know my brother bought a witch,” he says. “And I know it’s you.”
My heart is pounding in my chest, but I fight to keep my voice steady.
“I thought you said there was no such thing as witches.”
“Yes, well, we have to keep the masses under control, don’t we? Can’t let them get too carried away with their nonsense, lest we have them burning our best assets.”
I swallow, wishing I could calm my racing heart. We’re standing close enough that he must be able to feel it, if not hear it.
“So, little witch. What can you do?”
I shake my head. “What makes you think I’m a witch?”
He laughs, the sound sending an icy chill down my spine. “Oh, pretty one. I have a very reliable source in my brother’s staff. There’s no doubt he has a witch. He spent a significant amount of money on one of you, easy twice the amount he spent on the others. And my observations tell me it’s none of these other women. They are all terrified of how this night might end, you see.” He spins me slightly, so I can see Sidney, who is currently dancing with Stacey.
“That young one looks like she’s actually had a good fuck, while everyone else just has an aura of being used, don’t you think? Perhaps my brother was kinder to her, because she’s younger.” He shrugs. “Either way, she’s happy, but she’s not confident. She’s still scared. And neither are any of the other women in this room. And then there’s you. You with your confident demeanour, like nothing could go wrong in the world. Like you have everything under control. Nobody has that sort of confidence about them. Nobody among the serving classes, anyway.” He spins me around again, faster than the music suggests he should, and I’m starting to feel dizzy. “And of course there’s the private room, all of your own. Somewhere to practise your nefarious acts, I suppose? What exactly has my brother asked you to do?”
I press my lips together. As if I’m going to tell him anything.
He laughs again. “It’s like that, is it? Well, how about instead of sharing his depraved desires, you do some magic for me?”
I shake my head.
He pulls away, his gaze boring into me. “Make me rich,” he says, “or immortal, or the most powerful man in the entire universe.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t.” He snorts. “Can’t, or won’t? Perhaps I should announce to the room that it’s true you are a witch, and then let the madness begin from there. While Sidney and I are quite sensible about such matters, I can tell you my other brothers are easily fooled by fear and superstition. They’ll probably be the biggest advocates for tying you to the stake and ending your life.”
My chest constricts. “No. It’s not that I won’t. I can’t. I really can’t.”
His eyes narrow, and he stops us, dead still in the centre of the room, while all the other dancers – the three other brothers and their partners, spin around us. “I’ve never heard of a witch who can’t do magic.”
We’re starting to get some strange looks, from Sidney’s other brothers, but also from the women.
It’s clear Frensen is angry. What must they think I’ve done, to make him so angry.
“Perhaps we should burn you, here and now. Hell, I’ll even take one less woman to make up for it.”
“No.” He must see the fear in my gaze, because he smirks.
“You’ve experienced that before, haven’t you? Almost dying by fire. How close did it get? Was it licking around your ankles? How on earth did you get away?”
I keep my mouth shut, wishing I could banish the images that come back by his words.
He laughs, and presumes the dance.
“So. You are a witch, which means you can do magic. And you will do magic for me, or else you will die and terribly, horribly, painful death.
“I can’t.” There are tears burning in the corners of my eyes now, as I find myself almost begging him. “I really can’t. Sidney is my Master, and I’m bound to him. I can’t do magic for anyone else.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth I realise how stupid I’ve been. I should’ve avoided the subject more, but how? How could I have told Frensen I can’t do magic for him, without actually spelling out that I can’t do magic for him?
It’s too late now, anyway.
His eyes narrow and I feel the rush of anger tear through his body.
“Then I’ll just have to make you mine, won’t I? How about that, eh? A new Master. One worthy of your power.”
The music comes to an end and he steps away.
My chest is so tight I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate, and I stagger back to find a chair to sit down, sucking breath in through my nose, and pushing it out through my mouth.
“Enough of all this nonsense! It must be time to pick our women,” the youngest brother announces, hands on his hips.
Sidney’s face pales ever so slightly, but I’m not sure anyone else notices. He nods, and clears his throat.
“You first then, Mitchell.”
The younger brother selects two women, Alice, and another woman, both somewhat older than he is, and they reluctantly go to stand by him.
Then the next oldest brother points at his tw
o. Stacey is one of them.
Sidney shakes his head. “Sorry Kress, she’s mine.”
Kress narrows his eyes. “We get to pick whoever we choose.”
Sidney shakes his head. “I paid for four of these women, I get to veto your choice. And I veto that one.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see Frensen lean forward, and when I glance up his eyes are narrowed. What has he made of that decision? I wish I could read minds. I’m sure it’s not good.
Kress mutters something under his breath, and selects Jane instead.
Then it’s Frensen’s turn. He twirls slightly on his heels, examining the remaining eight women. His gaze falls on me, and he pauses.
I can feel my throat constricting. I hold my breath waiting for the inevitable, but Frensen’s expression changes to a smirk, and he turns away.
“I’ll take her,” he says, pointing to the woman who’d been seated on his other side during the meal. And then he turns a little further. “And her.”
He’s pointing to Nancy, and despite her carry on earlier, no she looks like she might faint.
What had he said at the dinner table, about preferring women who can keep their mouth shut? What will that mean for Nancy? She might be a bitch, but she doesn’t deserve whatever he’s going to deal out.
“Can we go then?” The youngest brother, Mitchell, looks bored.
Sidney nods. “You can go.”
Mitchell and Kress grab their women roughly by an upper arm each, and propel them out the door.
Frensen on the other hand, collects his women, and ushers them out the door, past me.
As he passes he catches my gaze. “The one thing I like more than women who can keep their mouth shut,” he says, leaning in close, “is teaching a woman exactly how to keep her mouth shut.” He sneers at me. “And my other favourite thing is the challenge of taking something I want, from someone who doesn’t want to hand it over.”
A shudder travels my spine, and this time there’s no hiding it.
Frensen’s grin widens.
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