by S. K Munt
It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness in the room, but I’d remembered that Karol’s desk was directly across from the door and so I crossed the room stealthily, my heart rate picking up again as I surveyed the blurred stacks of books and papers on the desk and tried to recall what the contracts had looked like! I knew that mine had been rolled up in a scroll after I’d signed it, but would it still be in that form now? Or would Karol have already un-rolled them in order to speed the process of releasing fourteen people up so he’d plenty of time to screw me, rinse off, and then go downstairs to get engaged? My fingers touched and brushed against paper that felt too new or too flimsy or too small until I touched the thick kind of parchment that Cadence Verity’s book had been originally printed on. That was more like it! Paper that had been built to last for at least twenty-one years, if not considerably longer! Paper that five year-old Larkin had been told was precious and difficult to destroy.
Bingo! I thought, echoing the word that Satan had put into my mind just a few days before. Now, where’s a light? I need to know if Karol was stupid enough to leave mine out with the others, or if I’ll have to hunt to find the ones that are intended to be kept locked away for years yet?
I heard a door click open then and whirled around in fright, but the door I’d come in through was still closed and so for a beat I just stood there, a smile creeping across my face despite the fact that my heart was pounding, thinking that I’d left it open behind me, and that a wind had simply blown it shut.
‘Jesus,’ I whispered, turning back to the desk and reaching for what looked like the outline of a lamp that was similar to mine. ‘Talk about-’
‘It’s Prince Karol, actually,’ a deep voice said from my right and I squeaked, flinching from toe to eyebrow when a large shadow loomed up beside me. ‘But as far as trespassers are concerned I am judge, jury and executioner so-’ the light clicked on and Karol stopped talking like he’d flipped the switch to his brain. For one awful second we just gaped at each other in mutual astonishment, before we both moved- me pulling back while he tightened his grip on my wrist and yanking me towards him as he cried: ‘Larkin? Oh my-’ he broke off to whistle, eyes dropping to the tip of my shoes so that they could slide back up at a leisurely pace. ‘Where’s the rest of your gown?’ He lifted his eyes to mine, and moved to touch my face. ‘It’s hard enough to think straight around you as it let alone-’
‘Let me go!’ I shrieked, cutting him off by sending a closed-fist strike into his lower jaw so hard that it hurt my hands and literally knocked the odd hat that he was wearing off of his head.
‘What the…!’ He released my hand as he moved to touch his bright-red cheek and I dove for the pile of parchments on the desk, scrambling to gather them all up into my arms before he could regain his composure. ‘Larkin, wait, I’m sorry I should have known better than to say such a-’ he tried to push off his desk to straighten but palmed a stack of books instead and sent them skittering under his weight as he cursed under his breath. ‘Dammit!’ he regained his balance and touched his face gingerly as he glowered at me. ‘How did you get in here?’ he winced, rubbing the pad of his thumb under the corner of his lip and inspecting it for blood. ‘And more importantly, how many times are you going to clock me before I remember to keep a guard up around you?’
‘As many as required!’ I spat out as I surveyed the room for a window that I could exit through. There was just one large one behind his desk, and getting to it would be difficult. ‘Grab me again, and you’ll be in need of a fleet of healers to cure what ails you, your highness!’ I glanced to the door that he’d entered through and saw by the tiled wall and basin within that it led to a more personal kind of throne room- an en-suite, and most likely a dead-end. Realising that I was cornered, I began to back up the way I’d come, cursing when I felt the stack of heavy papers in my arms tilt and then began to spill across the floor.
‘Larkin-’
‘I mean it!’ I cried, ducking quickly as I attempted to grab the papers that had fallen. It would be just my luck to leave my own on the floor behind me! ‘Not if you value your bone structure at all, and I know that you do, you vain bastard!’
‘You speak as though I am the violent one-’
‘You are!’ I got the final paper and began to scramble back with it. ‘I’ve seen the dungeon room- I’ve seen your whips and crops and manacles and-’
‘Have you seen this?’ Karol asked, and I looked up at him, frowning when I saw that he had crouched across from me, and was now tapping a scroll in his hand that he’d pulled from a trunk on the floor near his feet. ‘I mean, I assume that this is what you’ve come for, yes? Your freedom?’ he wriggled his eyebrows, then used the scroll to motion to the papers in my hands. ‘Unless of course, you’re desperate to know how to make an authentic Asianic red curry?’
Something cold slithered around inside my abdomen again, and I looked from the scroll in his hand, to the papers in mine. I dropped my eyes and read the words: ‘Lobster bisque,’ and felt my heart sink. ‘What…?’
‘Those are a collection of recipes that Shep Choir has amassed during his travels,’ Karol said, standing up casually and adjusting the foreign-looking suit jacket that he was wearing, drawing my attention to two things at once: I was fucked, again, and he looked incredible.
Wearing a tightly-fitted, dark blue suit embellished with gold buttons, trim and a red sash around his lean waist he was a tall, dark and handsome drink of water. And that cunning ‘I have you now!’ smile was as disarming as it always had been, despite the fact that a good part of his face was hidden behind a dark blue velvet masquerade mask. I didn’t know what or who he was supposed to be, but he wore it well, and the sword slung through a sheath at his side was keeping me in check. A sword wasn’t a match for my fire, but I wouldn’t be playing that hand until I knew that I had no other choice. I looked from him to the sealed scroll and felt my knees weaken for two good reasons.
‘No,’ I whispered, feeling the tears welling behind my eyes again. That was my contract he had in his hand, I knew it! If I’d had just twenty seconds more-
‘Yes.’ Karol casually picked up his hat and popped it back on top of his head again, tilting it at a jaunty angle while smoothing his sash. Was it my imagination, or was he watching me watch him with expectation in his sparkling green eyes? Was I supposed to compliment his outfit? Ask who the designer was? He was mad to think that I’d care about such things at a time like this, and when I just stared hatefully at him, he sighed and went on, posture dropping a little. ‘Mother had one of them cooked up at his insistence last night and now considers him to be a man of great taste. She asked for all of the recipes that he has on him, and I was copying them into a book for her from his originals before he departs in the morning,’ he pointed to the desk and I turned to see a notebook open to a hand-written recipe for chowder that he must have painstakingly transcribed already. ‘But I’ve been a busy little bee today- making grand preparations, saving lives… you know… all standard responsibilities for a man like me…’ he paused to wink while I rolled my eyes, ‘so I haven’t finished the bisque one yet.’ He cleared his throat and chanced a step forward. ‘Now I can see that you’re very angry with me for some reason right now, and I’m sure I’ll understand why once you expand upon it- but Shep Choir will be quite upset if I lose his copies, so if you don’t mind…’ he raised his eyebrows, then inclined his head to his desk again.
I sighed, stepped forward and replaced the pile of papers onto his desk, praying that Constance would survive and get to enjoy that bisque someday. ‘Of course,’ I said softly, wondering what the hell to do from here. Fight? Flirt? Flee? He obviously didn’t have an inkling about the calamities taking place downstairs and although that was throwing me off, it also gave me more control over the whole situation, allowing me to set the tone- I just didn’t know which to pick!
‘Thank you.’ I heard her Karol sigh and then step forward, and I instinctively stepped back, hugging
myself. ‘Larkin, can you please stop glaring at me like I’m a common criminal because I rudely interrupted your ransacking of my private chamber and just tell me: what on earth are you doing in here?’
‘Stealing my contract back,’ I said flatly, deciding that treating him as I always had would suffice for now. ‘I thought that was obvious?’
He snorted, but his eyes hardened immediately after as he shook his head. ‘Why? You don’t have to steal anything from me. I told you I’d tear up your contract tonight if you came to me and I meant it.’ He wet his lips and then ventured. ‘I assume that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Because you got my letter?’ he stepped closer. ‘How did you manage to shake off Kohén?’
I couldn’t bring myself to think about the answers for those questions, so I rewound the conversation to a better starting place. ‘Has it escaped your notice that my contract is out of your hands now, Prince Karol? Kohén has had me, and no longer needs that contract to keep me here.’
Karol winced. ‘You make it sound as romantic as I assumed it had been.’ He stepped closer, studying my expression while his remained unreadable due to that mask. ‘Is that what he did, Larkin? Did he have you… or did he take you?’
I swallowed hard. ‘You suspect that I was raped, too?’
‘I wouldn’t use the word raped...’ he said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘But I’ve spent every spare second this week plotting his demise for laying a finger on you and-’
‘Of course you wouldn’t use that word!’ I hissed. ‘Coerced, right? That’s the word you’re searching for? Or perhaps you believe I was black-mailed, yes? Guilt tripped even? All things that sweet, lovesick little Kohén could easily be suspected of doing! But not raped- that word is too ugly, your souls too pristine, and my free will a moot point, so rape couldn’t possibly apply in this situation, could it?’ I could feel that furnace inside me heating up again, flooding my blood with heat and rage. ‘Well rest your shrivelled-up conscience, your highness, because no Kohén did not rape me on Tuesday night! The word that articulates what happened is tricked, okay? I was tricked into giving my virginity away-’
‘Then why didn’t you-’
‘Because I had to! Because of the contract! Because Kohl’s feelings for me and my empathy for him put his life on the line, just like the freedom of the people whose contracts you are standing in front of now is dependant on me keeping a clear head! I couldn’t run, I couldn’t scream- all I could do was sit there and try to convince myself that I deserved to end up exactly where I was, and I did such a grand job of convincing Kohén and my stupid, drunken, heartsick self that I was coming to terms with all of it, that Kohén didn’t even have to rape me to get what he needed from me!’ I cackled. ‘Well, not until half an hour ago when he and Kohl decided to brand me and claim me in the name of Barachiel... twice!’
Karol tore the mask away from his eyes, and all at once I saw that they were awash with confusion and horror. ‘What? They did what to you?’ he looked at my brand, pressed his hand to his chest and then balled it, turning around to smash the lamp off the desk. ‘No! I’ll kill them!’ The lamp went flying across the room with a muted clunk that was softened by the thick carpet, and I winced, wondering how many people are arguing was going to draw up here. The bulb didn’t go out, but it rolled a few times, casting odd shadows about that danced along to the beat of Karol’s supposed outrage. ‘No wonder he kept me away from you as he did!’ he raged on. ‘Blissfully happy, I was told you were. Afraid to come near me, for fear that I would berate you for turning down my offer, ha! Lying, sneaking little shit! Cherry told me that you swore that you were-’
‘Bullshit!’ I cried as Karol took off towards the door, switched on the overhead light and then stomped over to a timber armoire in the corner. There was stuff everywhere: suitcases, open books, discarded clothes and a disassembled gun, but the rifle that he pulled out of the cupboard after punching his key into the lock looked functional enough to make me step back a few paces more. ‘They didn’t do anything that you wouldn’t have done yourself, if not given the opportunity to bypass consent and get straight on with it!’ I pointed out. ‘Why do you think I passed along messages with your biggest fans for you to you to leave me be? I’d already been used once, I wasn’t about to let you near me to claim me too!
He had the gall to look wounded as he turned around and pumped the weapon once. ‘You still believe that I’d rape you?’ he charged towards me, saw the way that I shrank back from the weapon and quickly rested it against the desk before coming at me with only the scroll in hand. ‘Larkin-’
‘If you did not believe you already had your consent to have me- or take me- or whatever the fuck else you expect to do to claim me yes, I do!’ I wanted to open the door and flee as he closed in on me, but he still had the scroll in his hand, so if I was ever going to get the chance to snatch it, then it was approaching me now and I couldn’t allow my fear of this man to override my determination to be free of his kingdom in every sense of the word. ‘And if you want me to believe otherwise you can tear up that-’ my rant came to a screeching halt as Karol hastily tore open the wax seal on the scroll, held it up so that I could see my name printed in calligraphy and then signed under in juvenile, sloppy attempt at a signature- and then ripped in in two.
‘Wish granted!’ he whispered, slamming his hands to the wall on either side of me, catching me off-guard and caging me in while I’d been gaping down at my contract. ‘Now, it’s your turn to make my dreams come true.’
30.
I sucked in a breath when I felt my back hit the cool wall, not knowing what to think or say. Karol had done as he’d promised- he’d voided my contract before making me return the favour! I should have been elated- I was free! And yet, I was in his arms, and he seemed pretty certain of the fact that I was going to stay there… why?
Because he wanted you to come to him when you were free, remember? This was never about cornering you, this was about earning your desire and gratitude! He thinks he has done so and now expects that you will respond with lust! And when he realises that you will not…
My eyes strayed to the gun and my abdomen clenched tightly. I’d read so many books about guns- books that other citizen had never even seen- but had never seen one used before. How fitting that I was now likely to be killed by one!
‘Karol…’ I wet my lips and looked towards the door, wondering how long I had left before someone charged through it. ‘There’s something you should know-’
‘No, there’s something that you should know,’ Karol moaned and leaned in kissing my upper lip gently as he pressed more heavily into me and the wall. I was a statue- afraid to move or breathe- and terrified that at any moment I’d crack straight down the middle, like Miguel Barachiel’s marble head. ‘I can’t get you out of my head! I’ve tried Larkin, so help me God I’ve tried...all week I’ve tried to convince myself that I’d lost my chance with you...’ he bent his face and slowly pressed his parted lips against my lower one now, making me hold my breath. He hummed at the whisper-soft contact, and when my heart skipped a beat I told myself it was fear even though I suspected that there was a lot of anticipation in there as well. If it had been Kohén, he would have been kissing me madly already, trying to force the connection to suit his own urgency and if it had been Kohl, well, I couldn’t bear to reflect on that… and yet Karol kept the kiss tentative despite the fact that his shallow breathing demonstrated that he wanted me a lot more than he’d ever actually let on.
Controlled, but shaking as he struggled to stay that way, Karol slowly lifted his mouth and caressed my top lip with both of his again, before parting his lips further to make the barely-there contact a little more balanced. I whimpered when I heard him draw in a ragged breath and slowly slide his hands down the wall, straightening a little as he did, leaning more into me before gently suckling on my lower lip and the pulling back to stare into my eyes with his brilliant green ones. ‘But I cannot even conceive of staying away from
you, let alone seeing it through. I know you don’t want me…’ he gently touched my upper lip with his again, and my fingertips curled into the wall as I felt my temperature spike. ‘I know you don’t need me…’ the bottom lip was caressed again, oh God I was panting! I turned my face up to the ceiling and trembled when he tilted his head so that he gently kissed the outer corner of my lip, and though I’d been confused when Kohén had tried to delicately explain what made the girls come out of the dungeon room with Karol with smiles on their faces, I got it now! Lord, if he could draw out a kiss for this long, what would he do to the core of a woman if he taunted her sex with his barely there touches so? Goosebumps exploded across my skin- the first I’d felt in a while, and as though he sensed them, Karol went in for the kill:
‘But I know that I need you. I’m in love with you, Larkin,’ he finished huskily, finally sliding his arms around me as he straightened to tower over me. ‘And I will do whatever it takes to make you love me in return.’
No! My brain cried in shock. No, no, NO! Anything but that!
‘You-’ but he kissed me before I could come up with a fitting string of nasty adjectives, and my gasp of surprise made it an easy victory for him. It wasn’t really surprise that had me sucking in air so violently- more like un-adulterated horror- but Karol did not understand that (or wasn’t going to try to) and so he slanted his mouth over mine as he enfolded me in his arms and crushed me against him, infusing me with his healing energy and making my muscles melt in relief while my brain screamed in horror.
No! I thought again, grabbing at him as I tried to wrestle myself free. No I could handle his sarcasm and contempt and lewd flirtations, but not his love! He promised me he’d never throw his heart at me- he swore it! He swore he was too cold hearted to love anybody! And yet...