Alexios

  I need a distraction… now.

  I return to my study for anything that could possibly anchor my thoughts. My eyes skim papers, ledgers and contracts, but the ink is just swimming uselessly across the fucking page.

  It’s her fault.

  Not mine.

  You were magnificent. Oh, I adored watching them cry. The way they feared you? Delicious.

  The image of Arun’s face cuts through whatever bullshit satisfaction she’s trying to feed me.

  “I wasn’t magnificent,” I mutter under my breath. “I was a fool.”

  You acted exactly as you should have. They insulted what belongs to you. You made an example of them. That is what strength looks like.

  My grip on the quill tightens and I can almost hear it crack.

  “Strength isn’t losing control.”

  Losing control? Sweetheart, that wasn’t a loss of control. That was just… you. Pure and unrestrained. I loved it.

  “I hated it,” I snap louder than I mean to. My voice echoes through the empty room and I sit back, rubbing a hand over my face.

  I hated the way I moved without thinking and the way absolute fury consumed every other thought until it was just me and the need to hurt. Even more than that, I hated the way Arun’s voice sounded when I went back upstairs to him.

  I set the quill down before I can break it and lean back in the chair until the leather groans. The papers are still open in front of me, but they might as well be blank honestly.

  I force myself to focus on something other than her fucking voice. I choose to focus on Arun instead and the way his expression shifted when I stepped into his room. It wasn’t relief or even anger at first.

  It was fear.

  A fear of me.

  What have I done?

  I press the heel of my palm to my brow and drag in a slow breath. I never wanted him to see that side of me. It’s one thing for the servants to fear me, but him?

  He thought he could stop me.

  I tell myself I was only protecting him and acted for his sake, but if I strip the justification away, what’s left is unbelievably ugly.

  I can’t stop wondering if I’ve built a wall in the space between us and it can’t be undone.

  The walls feel too close now and my patron’s presence is just… too heavy in the air so I rise from the desk and leave the study. I don’t think I can be in here right now. I walk through the manor’s long halls once the door closes quietly behind me and I let the sunlight spill over me at the front steps.

  The air outside is clean and carries the faint scent of the damp earth beyond the garden. I take the path that winds past the hedges and fountains. I want to get away from the carefully kept rows of plants and anything “pretty”.

  I follow the trail through the trees until I make it to a small clearing. There’s nothing here except one grave.

  His grave.

  My sweet Nykolai.

  The stone is framed by wild grass that’s been cut back just enough to keep it visible. It’s almost like the world knows to keep quiet here.

  For a moment, I just stand there with my hands curled into fists at my sides before eventually allowing myself to exhale the breath I’ve been holding onto.

  “I made a mess of it again,” I say. “You’d tell me that I was an idiot and that I should have handled it better.”

  I think about his warm voice and it cuts deeper than I’m ready for. I step closer and lower myself to one knee as the first tear slips before I can even stop it.

  “I don’t know why I can’t stop,” I whisper. “The moment I feel threatened, she takes over and I’m just… someone you wouldn’t recognize. Someone Arun shouldn’t have to see.”

  The wind stirs through the branches above, but there’s no answer of course. I bow my head and take in a broken inhale.

  “I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me how to fix this before I ruin it beyond saving.”

  My shoulders shake as the weight in my chest completely breaks loose. There’s no one to hear me sob out here. No one to see me shatter.

  Somehow, that feels safer than ever letting the living see me like this.

  --

  It’s far past evening time when I finally speak again.

  “Goodnight, beautiful.”

  I mean to stand and force myself back to the manor, but I can’t. The thought of facing what waits inside feels like too much for me right now. The clearing is quiet and for one, I can breathe without feeling her presence pouring into my mind.

  So I choose to stay.

  I shift to sit with my knees drawn up slightly as I let the quiet wrap around me. Somewhere in the distance, an owl calls.

  My eyes grow heavier with each passing minute and before I even realize it, I’m slumped down on the ground. The only thing I can even think of right now is the impossible thought that maybe Nykky is watching and listening. I close my eyes to rest at the foot of the only place on the property that still feels… honest.

  --

  “Alexios?”

  A soft voice pulls me out of sleep before the cold can. I look around and see the very pale wash of early dawn. The stiffness in my neck and back are ridiculously sharp reminders of where I am.

  I turn my head slowly and I see Arun standing at the edge of the clearing. His cloak is pulled tight around him and his eyes move from me to the grave, then back to me again.

  “You didn’t come to dinner,” he says, his voice quiet but steady. “You didn’t come to check on me. You weren’t in your bedroom. You weren’t in your study.”

  I know what he really means.

  So where were you?

  I push myself upright and brush the damp ground from my palms.

  “I needed air,” I say, but even to my own ears, it sounds paper thin.

  “Needing some air doesn’t usually mean disappearing all night.”

  I glance toward the grave behind me before I can stop myself and his eyes follow the movement. His brows draw together, but he doesn’t ask.

  “I didn’t mean to…” I trail off. I’m honestly not sure how to finish the sentence.

  “Worry you” feels too small.

  “Hurt you” feels too true.

  He stays silent. I think he might turn and leave without another word, but to my surprise he stays.

  He crosses the short stretch of grass and lowers himself to sit beside me but leaves enough space that the air hangs between us almost like a wall. Even though his hands are folded in his lap, I can see the tension in them. He’s trying to keep them still, but I can see them twitch every so often.

  “How am I supposed to know you’d never hit me like that?”

  I turn my head toward him, but he’s staring straight ahead at the grass rather than at me. There’s a tightness in his jaw and I can tell he’s holding too much inside.

  The first answer that comes to mind feels too easy and cheap.

  Because I wouldn’t. Because you’re different.

  I just sit there with the words caught in my chest. The gentle bird calls begin filling the gap where my voice should be.

  He finally turns his head and his eyes find mine. There is none of his usual softness in them. Why would there be?

  “I asked you a question, Alexios.”

  I look at him, but it’s like looking in a mirror that I don’t want to see right now.

  “How… am I… supposed… to know?” he repeats slowly now. It’s like he’s daring me to try and dodge the question again.

  My pulse sounds uncomfortably loud and I realize…

  He’s right.

  After what he saw me do, how is he supposed to know?

  I look away and my eyes drop to the grass between us.

  “You’re not supposed to just… take my word for it,” I say quietly. “Not after you saw what I’m capable of.”

  His hands tighten in his lap, but he doesn’t look away. I swallow hard before I speak again.

  “The truth is… you can’t know. Not the way you want to. Not right now. All I can tell you is that I would sooner put my hands on myself before I’d ever put them on you.”

  I risk glancing at him, but his face holds no expressions.

  “I lost control,” I admit. “I hate that you saw that side of me. I hate that I’ve given you a reason to even wonder if I’d ever turn it on you. I can’t change what I did. All I can do is make damn sure you never have a reason to ask me that question again.”

  Neither of us move as we continue sitting together. The only sound is the soft rustle of leaves and the slow rhythm of his breathing beside me. I don’t know if he’s thinking about what I said or if he’s decided there’s nothing left to even say now. The weight of it presses on me until I can’t stand it anymore.

  “If you want to go back to Baldur’s Gate,” I whisper, forcing the words out. “I’ll arrange it. I’ll make sure it’s safe. I’ll… buy you a place there. Somewhere comfortable. I’ll send you money every month for bills, food, clothes. Anything you want.”

  I glance at him, but he’s still looking straight ahead.

  “You’d have your own space,” I continue. “No one to answer to. No one to tell you what to wear or where to go. You’d be free to paint all day, read until morning, wander the city if you wanted. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t follow. I’d just make sure you had what you needed. You wouldn’t have to see me again if you didn’t want to.”

  “Please stop talking, Alexios.”

  His gaze is still fixed on the grass, but he takes a shaky breath in.

  “If I wanted to leave,” he says quietly. “I would’ve asked you to take me back already. I’m still here because I… want to be here. That doesn’t mean I’m not angry or scared, but I’m not leaving. Not yet.”

  A sigh of relief leaves me, but it’s tangled in a knot of guilt that won’t leave.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure,” he says as he finally looks at me. “But you have to give me time, Alexios.”

  I nod once and get up on my feet. The stiffness in my legs screams at me after a night on the cold ground, but I ignore it and turn to offer him my hand anyway.

  “Let’s go back inside,” I whisper.

  He looks at it, then at me, and shakes his head no.

  “I told you… I need time.”

  The refusal hurts a bit, but I let my hand fall without argument. He stands on his own and brushes the dirt from his cloak before walking toward the path back to the manor.

  I keep a few paces behind as I follow. The early light cuts through the trees and I watch the way his shoulders are set and the purposeful lengths of his strides. He’s making it clear that he doesn’t want me at this side.

  He doesn’t look back when we step onto the stone path leading up to the manor and when he crosses back into the house, he keeps walking. He goes straight past the study and even the stairs so he can disappear deeper into the manor without a word.

  I stand at the doorway as I listen to the echo of his footsteps until there’s nothing but silence.

  You should be proud of yourself, Alexios.

  “I’m not proud,” I whisper to myself. “I’m…”

  I want to say “empty”, but I also don’t want to give her the satisfaction of hearing that.

  He still fears you. I could taste it when he looked at you. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

  “No.”

  Liar. If you didn’t want him to fear you, you wouldn’t have punished the servants like that. You wouldn’t have let him see that part of you. You wanted it to leave an impression on him.

  “That’s not… that’s not why.”

  I close my eyes and will her voice away, but she lingers until the only sound in the hall is the quiet rush of my own breath.

  Eventually, I turn away from the hall and make my way to the bathing room. Two servants are there, arranging towels and jars of oil while another fills up the bath. After a few moments, the steam from the heated water curls into the cool air of the room.

  “Shall we assist you, master?”

  “No,” I say, my answer sharper than I intended. “I want to be alone… please.”

  They bow and slip out, leaving the room in perfect silence. I shed my clothes and step in. The heat of the water strips away the coolness that settled into my bones during the night.

  I sink deeper into the water and close my eyes, letting the water move against my shoulders. I want the water to wash everything away, but it refused to wash away the image of Arun and how he didn’t want to hold my hand, deliberately putting space between us on the way back.

  You’re thinking about him again. You’d better not let him be anything more than a pet.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  My patron’s voice coils in my head as if she’s been waiting for the quiet to pounce. My eyes snap open and I grip the edge of the tub until my knuckles ache.

  “He’s not…”

  Of course he is, Alexios. You feed him, clothe him, give him pretty things. You let him warm your bed when it suits you and that’s all he should ever be. You know it.

  “You don’t know a damn thing about it.”

  I know enough to see how close you are to forgetting what you are. Careful, Alexios. Pets have a way of thinking they’re equals when you let them too close.

  The water feels hotter and I try to drag in a breath, but the steam seems to cling to my lungs. The heat seeps into my muscles and it softens every knot and ache until my head tips back against the tub again. My eyelids grow heavy and I tell myself I’ll get out in a moment… just one more moment… but the warmth is lulling. It’s pulling me under in a different way.

  When I open my eyes again, the water is different.

  Darker.

  Heavier.

  Steam curls around me in thick waves and it blurs the edges of the room until there’s nothing but the rippling surface and rose petals around me.

  Something moves beneath it.

  Before I can react, a rich caramel-toned arm slips up from the depths, my skin warm and glistening as the hand glides along my chest. It’s her.

  Her touch is cool despite the heat of the bath, her fingers tracing slow paths over my skin as her tongue slides up my length from underneath the water. A soft moan escaped me before I can even think to stop it.

  Her head rises next and the water falls off her like liquid glass. Hair like onyx fans over her shoulders, her eyes luminous and sharp as she drinks in my face.

  Her smile feels like a threat.

  “Sweet Alexios,” she whispers. The words vibrate against my throat as she leans in, letting her lips brush my skin. Then she presses her lips to mine in a possessive kiss and the taste of the water mingles with something richer.

  Blood.

  My fingers twitch against the edge of the bath and I’m torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer.

  She moves with grace and power, sliding closer until she straddles my hips in the water. Her warm thighs press against me, holding me there as if she wants me to know I can’t escape even if I wanted to.

  My eyes betray me as they drift downwards to follow how the water shifts over her nude body. I reach out, desperate to feel her curves. The ripples trace paths across her flawless skin, glints of light catching the sides of her breasts before vanishing again.

  Her fingers drift up my chest again. She lets her nails graze lightly before coming to rest just beneath my jaw. Her dark and lustrous eyes search mine.

  “Tell me,” she says, her voice teasing and coaxing. “Do you have feelings for the pretty tiefling?”

  The question is a sharp intrusion and I force myself to smile as if I’m simply amused by her ask.

  “No.”

  Her head tilts and I know she sees right through me. A faint smile frames her lips as she leans in, her breath warm against my ear.

  “Liar. You like him because he reminds you of poor Nykolai, doesn’t he?”

  Hearing Nykky’s name feels like having a knife plunged into my heart, but I keep my eyes fixed on hers. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a flinch.

  She laughs softly and the sound echoes through the steam.

  “You can’t help but want to protect him. You think you’re saving him, but you’re really just trying to rewrite an ending you’ve already lived, yes?”

  Her fingers tighten under my jaw and it’s not enough to hurt, but it’s enough to make it clear she very well could.

  “Do you know why it felt so good for you to touch him? Because for a moment, you could pretend it was him again. You could pretend you were back there before the bloodshed.”

  My hands clench under the water, but she only shifts closer to me and the motion sends another soft wave across her body. I can’t help but watch the way it curls around her breasts.

  “When you look at Arun, you think that this one will stay. This one won’t slip through my fingers like Nykky did, but you and I both know the truth, Alexios.”

  My eyes snap up to meet hers and I grit my teeth,

  “You know nothing abo-“

  “I know everything,” she interrupts as she presses a fingertip to my lips. “You want to chain him to you with this… sweetness and comfort… and when that fails… you want to use fear. Because fear keeps people close, doesn’t it?”

  The water reflects in her gleaming eyes and I am absolutely caught up in her spell now.

  “When you kissed Arun, were you thinking of him… or the other one? Did you feel Arun’s mouth or did you imagine the little violinist who loved you once?”

  My breath catches before I can even stop it and she smiles wider, baring her fangs to me as she senses the crack in my armor.

  “Aw, you can’t even answer, can you? Because part of you really doesn’t want to know.”

  Her smile fades into something much colder and she tilts her head as she studies me. It feels like she’s weighing my worth all over again.

  “I need to know that you’re still mine,” she says as her voice dips low. Her nails trace a slow line from my jaw down to my chest and it leaves a little bit of a sting on my skin. “Not his. Not that little pet you’ve grown so fond of.”

  “He’s not a fucking pet.”

  She presses her palm over my heart to cut whatever else I want to say off.

  “Loyalty to me is proven in blood, Alexios. You know that.”

  The ripples of the bath still as she leans in and her eyes locking onto mine.

  “I want twenty men. Kill them and I’ll know your heart hasn’t been… compromised. Not servants though. Not anyone who matters to your silly little household.”

  Her fingers slip to the back of my neck, her grip deceptively tender.

  “Do this for me and I’ll believe you’re still mine, yes?”

  “Yes,” I hear myself say. The word feels as if it’s been pulled from me like a thread being unraveled from my mouth.

  Her eyes shine and I know she’s satisfied with my acceptance. She wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyway. She leans in more and her mouth closes over the curve of my neck. The first press of her fangs is almost kind, but then she bites deeper, enough to draw in that dizzying pull of my blood.

  I don’t want to give her even the hint of a sound of pleasure or shiver, but my body betrays me. The rush in my veins surges and she knows. It makes her laugh against my skin.

  She slowly takes me inside of her and a groan rips from my throat. Her walls tighten around me, pulling me in deeper as she moves with a controlled rhythm. Every slow slide into her is dominating and my grip on the edge of the bath tightens until my knuckles ache.

  “I missed making you sound like this,” she says. Her voice sounds like silk as her mouth brushes my ear.

  As the steam thickens, she begins to move mercilessly. I try to force my mind to focus on something else, anything else, but she’s too close. She fills my senses with her lust, her warmth, her scent and her will.

  I grit out, “But your husband…”

  She lets out a sharp laugh and it feels like a blade wrapped in velvet.

  “He isn’t here so you don’t have to worry.”

  Her pace builds as water curls into aggressive waves around us. Her eyes never leave mine and I know she’s holding me there so that both my breath and pulse belong to her.

  Her satisfaction grows. Every flicker of pleasure she drags from me feeds her power.

  The moan she lets out just as she is about to finish is almost… victorious. It echoes through the steam and just as abruptly…

  The weight of her vanishes.

  --

  I jolt awake, causing the bathwater to slosh around me. The room is completely empty… except for my own ragged breathing. My skin is still hot and my pulse races. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I can hear her voice fading into silence.

  The water feels so much colder now and it clings to my skin as I rise from the bath. I don’t want to be in here anymore. There’s no sense in sitting in her shadow any longer than I have to.

  The sound of the fabric is rough against my ears as I dry off. I keep my movements sharp and efficient as I look to find the first set of clothing I can find. I want to scrub the dream from my mind by forcing myself into action, but her order threads through my thoughts.

  Twenty men.

  I pull the belt on the fine silk robe tighter and let the number echo in my head. There’s no room for hesitation here. Not if I want to keep her satisfied and keep her from turning her interest toward Arun.

  Twenty lives.

  Twenty pieces of proof that I’m still hers.

  Outside, the manor is just beginning to stir, but on the inside, I’ve already chosen my path and exactly how I plan to end the men.

  --

  The clink of cutlery and the smell of spiced tea welcome me as I step into the dining hall. The servants move like shadows around me. They keep silent, careful to not let their eyes linger on me a second too long. The tension is still clinging in the air.

  Arun sits at the table with his posture straight and his hands folded loosely in his lap. He doesn’t look at me as I take my seat across from him. He won’t look away from the plate in front of him and it seems like the arrangement of bread and fruit demands his entire attention.

  “Good morning,” I say, trying to watch for any little shift in his expression.

  There’s nothing.

  So I try again.

  “Did you sleep well, my love?”

  He doesn’t answer. Not even a shake of his head or anything.

  I glance down at my plate before taking one of the honey coated pastries. I push it gently across the table toward him.

  “Here. You liked these last time, right?”

  His eyes move from the plate to me for a fraction of a second before he shakes his head, looking away.

  “I don’t want it,” he says quietly. His voice is so soft that I almost miss his words.

  I can feel the weight of the servants’ glances and how they wait for the smallest rise in my town, but I only watch him and a part of me wonders if the distance between us will ever shrink.

  I take a slow sip of tea and let the warmth of it settle in my chest in an attempt to let something steady me.

  His fork moves and he pushes a slice of fruit across his plate lazily.

  “You’re quiet this morning,” I say, keeping my tone careful. “Still tired?”

  No answer.

  I should try a different approach.

  “Do you have plans today? You could spend more time in the healing room if you’d like. I can have more supplies brought in.”

  Still nothing. Just that same fixed look at his plate.

  I realize I’m getting irritated, but it’s not at him. It’s at this wall between us that I just can’t seem to scale. I reach across the table and my fingers brush the edge of his plate.

  “Arun… please look at me.”

  Slowly, he does, but he’s careful to keep his expression guarded.

  “I’m not the enemy,” I say. My voice is soft now and it sounds more like a plea than anything else. “Whatever you think… I’m still me.”

  I see a faint bit of hurt and maybe even doubt in his expression. I lean back again, letting out a quiet breath.

  “You don’t have to forgive me yet. Just… don’t shut me out completely.”

  He lowers his eyes again and the silence builds between us until the clink of a servant placing more tea on the table breaks it. I let the silence hold for another moment before I speak again, keeping my voice low enough that only he can hear.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  His fork stills, but he doesn’t look up.

  “Anything at all,” I press gently. “Something you need. Something you want. Say it and I’ll see that it’s done.”

  He shakes his head once as if the very idea of accepting anything from me now is unbearable.

  “I understand,” I say softly. This is a battle I don’t really want to fight right now.

  The servants move through the dining hall in near silence and I can feel them watching, but their eyes never linger long enough for me to catch them in the act. I know if I press Arun any more right now, I’ll only drive him further away.

  Arun sets down his fork with care and he keeps his eyes lowered as he rises from the chair.

  “Excuse me,” he says politely. Without waiting for a reply, he turns and walks out.

  I watch him leave, keeping my eyes on the doorway long after he’s passed through it. The room feels so much colder without him and even the sunlight from the windows feels a little too bright right now.

  The servants continue their work, keeping their movements careful, and I can still feel them looking my way when they think I’m not looking. They’re still on edge, rightfully so.

  He’s sulking like a scorned lover. You’ve spoiled that pet so much that he thinks he can just… walk away from you without consequences.

  “Stop it,” I whisper.

  Not until you admit that he’s a distraction. He is a soft place in your armor. Softness gets you killed.

  “You said twenty men. That’s what matters to me right now.”

  I’m not worried about you finding them, Alexios. I’m worried about you forgetting where your loyalty lies. You have a purpose. Don’t let him make you forget it.

  I push the cup away and the scrape of the porcelain is a bit loud as it moves across the wood. I rise from the table and leave the dining room without another word. The muted scent of parchment and polished wood finds me as I walk into my study, the door clicking shut behind me.

  I drop into my chair, letting my hands rest on the desk for a moment. I try to focus on anything, but my thoughts keep circling back to Arun.

  Arun.

  Arun.

  Arun.

  Arun.

  Arun.

  A soft knock breaks my thoughts and it’s a hesitant one.

  “Come in,” I answer.

  Please be him.

  The door opens just enough for one of the younger servants to slip inside. He keeps his head down and his posture tight like the air in the room might disappear if he breathes too much.

  “Master,” he says, voice very cautious. “I… I’ve brought the documents you requested yesterday.”

  He sets them down on the far edge of the desk, careful to keep his hands clear of mine.

  I look at him for a moment, studying his stiff movements and the way his eyes dart to the door as if he’s measuring the distance back to safety. The memory of my outburst lingers here too and it’s written in every line of his body language.

  “Is that all?” I ask, keep my tone clipped. He flinches and nods quickly.

  “Y-yes… Master.”

  I can see the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers twitch against his own leg. The instinct to press at the fear to keep all the servants sharp and obedient burns in me like a familiar flame.

  But then I think of Arun and how he barely looked at me during breakfast. I exhale slowly and lean back into my chair.

  “You’ve done well to bring them to me so quickly,” I answer. I make sure to soften my voice as I speak. “You can leave them there. Thank you.”

  The servant’s head lifts just enough for me to catch the surprise in his eyes before he bows a bit and steps back.

  “Of course, Master.”

  I give the papers a quick glance as the door closes behind the servant. I’d really meant the thanks, but a part of me truly wonders if it’s already too late for such a small thing to mean something to Arun.

  The door opens again and I glance up expecting to see another servant walk in.

  It’s not.

  Arun steps inside and closes the door gently behind him. His curly hair is slightly mused and the look on his face is just as guarded as it was during breakfast. It makes me sit up straighter.

  “I didn’t mean to bother you,” he says. “I just… needed to ask something.”

  I motion to the chair on the other side of my desk.

  “You could never bother me.”

  He hesitates before eventually crossing the room, his eyes quickly scanning the stacks of papers. When he sits, it’s with that same careful control I’ve learned he does when he’s not really sure how I’ll react to something.

  He shifts slightly and his amber eyes meet mine at last.

  “Do you… actually want me here or do you just feel like you have to keep me?”

  The question is much heavier than I expected and I’m careful not to respond right away. Mainly because the truth isn’t that simple and because I know whatever I say in this moment will matter. It could easily make or break anything between us.

  I lean forward, resting my forearms on the desk as I keep my eyes locked on his.

  “I want you here because I want you. Not because I have to or because of an obligation.”

  I can tell he’s not sure whether to believe me.

  “I know I’ve given you reasons to doubt that,” I continue. “I’ve handled things very poorly. I’ve handled you very poorly, but that doesn’t change the fact that when you’re not in the room, I do notice. When you’re gone, I really feel it and I don’t want that absence, Arun.”

  He doesn’t speak right away and I can see his fingers tighten a bit in his lap.

  “You don’t owe me an ounce of forgiveness,” I add. “But I need you to understand that you’re here because I genuinely want you here. That’s the only reason that matters to me.”

  His shoulders ease a fraction and I realize there’s less of a cold look in his eyes now, but it’s not all gone.

  “I… believe you,” he says quietly. “But wanting me here isn’t enough, Alexios. Not if you’re still going to treat everyone else like they don’t matter. Do you even know their names?”

  I start to speak, but he lifts a hand slightly to stop me.

  “I’m not saying you have to treat them the way you treat me. I know I’m… different to you. But they’re people too, Alexios. They deserve more than fear.”

  I nod slowly just once.

  “You’re right,” I say. My answer tastes rather… strange in my mouth though. “I’ll do better.”

  The look on his beautiful face softens a bit more, but the guardedness still remains. It’s going to take more than promises to open that closed gate.

  “Fine,” he answers as he rises from the chair. “Then I’ll wait and see.”

  And just like that… he’s gone from the study. I’m left with the echo of our words and the awareness that keeping him here means changing far more than I’d planned.

  --

  The rest of the morning feels like I’m moving through a completely unfamiliar territory. Every time I pass a servant in the hall, I force my voice to stay relaxed and calm. I try to give clear instructions without the edge I’ve carried for years.

  It’s… strange to see the surprise in their eyes instead of fear when I thank them for completing a task. I’m pretty sure one of the servants in the kitchen nearly dropped the tray she was carrying when I asked if she’s eaten today.

  As I walk through the manor throughout the day, I tell one of the older servants to take a break before the midday meal. He looks at me like I’ve spoken in a language he’s never heard before.

  It’s not really natural to me and every instinct wants to push against it so I can keep the servants sharp and remind them where authority lies, but I remember what Arun said earlier.

  They deserve more than fear.

  I find myself in the west corridor, stopping at the linen room where two servants are sorting folded sheets.

  “Thank you for keeping this place spotless,” I tell them. “It doesn’t go unnoticed.”

  They’re unsure whether to even answer, but one of them finally nods and whispers a quiet, “Thank you, master.”

  It’s a start.

  An awkward start, but one none the less, right?

  I want to keep my promise to Arun, but another promise lingers below the surface.

  The promise to her.

  Twenty men… and soon.

  --

  The garden is quiet except for the hum of some insects and the soft rustle of leaves. I walk the path slowly with my hands clasped behind my back.

  I know I should be enjoying the peace and quiet, but my mind keeps thinking about my patron’s orders. I can never let Arun know about this or even her.

  If he knew...

  Fuck.

  It wouldn’t just be disgust I’d see in his eyes. It would be something far worse. I’m not sure I could stand that.

  I stop near the fountain and watch as the water spills in slow arcs into the basin below. The sound is gentle, meditative almost, but unlike the clear water, my thoughts stay murky. The right targets should be men whose absence won’t bring suspicion.

  I glance back at the manor and picture Arun somewhere inside. I wonder if he’s sketching or maybe tending to some patient in the healing room, completely unaware that I’m standing here calculating murder.

  If I do it at the manor, it might be easier here. No wasted travel and no need to make excuses for where I’ve been. If I time it right, Je Suis will be arriving soon. She could take Arun away for a day or two to see a few museums and go shopping. He’d be smiling and distracted if his arms are full of books or little trinkets by the time he returned.

  You would have your playground all to yourself.

  I don’t answer her, but I can definitely feel her satisfaction.

  Your favorite method has always been through sensuality. Let them want to come to you. Let them think they’re being indulged. You’ve always been so good at making people forget what danger they’re in until it’s far too late.

  She’s not wrong. The method works and it likely leaves fewer loose ends. My mind starts sorting through the possibilities.

  The rooms I could use. The kind of men who would take the invitation without question. The way the wine could be poured… and what might be mixed in it.

  “Can you make sure he never knows about this?” I ask, my voice edged in urgency.

  You think I’d ruin our fun by letting your pet sniff out the truth?

  “I’m serious,” I say under my breath, glancing back toward the manor. “If he finds out…”

  He’ll leave you and you’ll blame me for it. Don’t worry, I have no interest in losing the leverage he gives me over you. I’ll keep him distracted and wrapped up in his own little world. You just focus on what I’ve asked of you, yes?

  “I mean it. Not a fucking whisper to him.”

  I know, Alexios. Besides… if anyone is going to break that poor tiefling’s heart, it won’t be me.

  --

  Once I’m back inside the manor, my steps are nothing but purposeful now. The first thing is choosing the right night. I should pick one where Je Suis will be here and willing to sweep Arun off to the city. I’ll make a note to send a letter ahead. I want it to be phrased warmly, full of invitation and the promise of rare poetry books in town.

  Next is the guest list. It can’t be too large. Too many bodies and someone will absolutely talk. Too small and my patron won’t be satisfied. I choose the names carefully.

  Merchants I’ve entertained before.

  A few unimportant nobles with “appetites” they don’t exactly share with company.

  Others whose disappearance will barely even ripple the surface of gossip.

  Discretion is everything here.

  The invitations don’t go out on paper, but rather through word of mouth. It’s passed in low voices by trusted couriers who know exactly how to make an offer sound both irresistible and entirely harmless.

  I make quiet arrangements with the kitchen so I can have extra wine bottles delivered the day before and a certain blend of imported herbs to mask other… additions. The west wing rooms will be decorated with silks, pillows and lighting that flatters, not the boring décor it usually holds.

  I keep my tone pleasant and my instructions gentle with the servants. None of them suspect the true nature of the evening to come.

  By nighttime, I have the bones of this plan laid out and it’s almost too easy.

  Just as she said it would be.

  love a bisexual king who doesn't take responsibility for his actions.