The servant barely managed a bow before she scrambled out, her eyes wide with terror. I settled back on the throne, my gaze fixated on the grand doors at the end of the hall.
It had been a while since I had last summoned her. Long enough to let her think she might have been free of my presence for a ti. Long enough for her to begin to settle, perhaps, into a sense of routine and calm.
How amusing it would be to shatter it.
The minutes crawled by, each one stretching as I pictured her reaction. The unease, the spark of defiance, that little glimr of fear she could never fully bury. The thought alone kept my fingers tapping against the armrest. She knew what she was—mine, a possession—but it was that defiant streak, that stubborn pride, that kept her... entertaining.
Finally, the doors creaked open, and my servant ushered her in. She walked in slow, stiff, keeping her head high, shoulders back, like she wasn’t about to break under the weight of my gaze. She didn’t look at , not yet, staring straight ahead with that mask of indifference she loved to wear.
"Co closer," I said, letting my voice echo through the hall.
I watched her steps falter, but she moved forward, every step deliberate, her jaw clenched just a fraction tighter. Her gaze finally t mine when she stopped a few feet away, defiance sparking in her eyes despite her tense posture.
"You summoned , your majesty," she said, voice steady, low.
I leaned forward, tilting my head as I studied her, amusent tugging at my lips. "Do you know why I called you here?" I asked, letting the question hang heavy between us.
She hesitated, glancing down for the briefest mont before eting my gaze once more. "No, your majesty."
I let out a low laugh. "No?" I let the word hang between us. "And here I thought you might have been... anticipating this mont."
She tensed, and I caught the barest flicker of irritation. It was always there, that spark she thought she could keep hidden. But I saw it, and it was part of what kept her so interesting.
"While you were away," I began, savoring every word, "soone had the audacity to suggest they could bring ... a replacent." I watched her carefully, waiting for a reaction. Fear, jealousy, or anything that might betray the hold I had over her.
A flash of sothing hot and quick darkened her gaze—anger or maybe wounded pride—but she tried to mask it, schooling her expression into indifference.
How amusing. She thinks she can fool .
"Replacents?" Her voice was even, though her jaw tightened. "And did they succeed in... persuading you?"
I laughed, the sound echoing in the hall. "Hardly. It would take more than the ramblings of so fool to tempt away from my bride." I grinned, resting my hands on the armrest of my throne. "You should be grateful."
Her lips pressed into a tight line, defiance seeping through her expression despite her best efforts. She refused to look down, and I couldn’t help but relish that little act of resistance. Bold, wasn’t she? A brave little creature who thought herself immune to .
Slowly, I rose from the throne, taking my ti crossing the space between us. Her eyes followed , that barely concealed unease flickering under her steady gaze. But she kept her chin high, pretending I didn’t unnerve her. Foolish, yet... endlessly amusing.
Stopping just in front of her, I reached out, tipping her chin up. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers, and I could feel her pulse jump as I leaned in, close enough to catch the sharp hitch in her breath.
"You know," I murmured, my tone almost casual, "most toys wear out over ti. They get... boring." I traced my thumb along her jawline, feeling the slight tremor beneath her skin. "But you? Sohow, you have the rare quality of staying... interesting."
She held my gaze, her voice tight with restrained anger. "Interesting? I suppose that’s a complint in your eyes."
"Think of it however you like." My hand lingered, trailing down to her neck as I watched her swallow, that feigned calm slipping just a little. "But here’s the best part, my darling," I whispered, pulling her closer. "I decide when, and how, you’re interesting. Isn’t that convenient?"
For a second, her defiance wavered, the mask cracking to show the fear just underneath. She wanted to snap back, to challenge —I could see it in her eyes. But she didn’t. Not yet.
"Now," I said, releasing her and stepping back, letting her reclaim the space between us, "show you’re worth keeping around."
She stayed rooted in place, anger flickering in her eyes even as her shoulders stayed squared. I had to hand it to her; most would be trembling by now. But not her. No, she was different. Every ti she ca to , she tried to carve out so semblance of control in a world where she had none.
"I’m not a toy, your majesty," she said, voice quiet but firm, holding onto her defiance like it might sohow protect her.
I let out a mocking laugh that echoed through the hall, savoring the way she stiffened in response. "You are not?" I let the question hang, taunting her with the truth she hated. "Funny, I don’t rember you having a choice in that."
She clenched her jaw, and I could practically see her biting back whatever response she wanted to throw at . She loathed it—loathed being here, loathed her own lack of control—but she hadn’t learned to let go of that stubborn streak yet. It was almost... cute.
My smirk deepened as I let my gaze drift over her slowly, watching as she fought to hold her composure. Then, I closed the distance between us again, close enough to see her defiance start to fade, replaced by that hint of unease she couldn’t hide.
"Tell ," I murmured, voice low, a taunting edge beneath it, "do you think any of this will save you?"
Her breath hitched just slightly, a flash of fear sparking in her eyes before she masked it. She wanted to pretend she was strong enough, brave enough, but we both knew the truth, didn’t we?
"I don’t need saving," she replied, her voice trembling but steady.
I chuckled, low and dark, leaning closer. "Keep telling yourself that, darling. It’s almost... endearing."
Her fists clenched, a futile attempt to keep her ground, like she could sohow keep herself from breaking. But we both knew the truth. Eventually, they all break.
With a sigh of feigned disappointnt, I stepped back, watching her reclaim the space she fought so hard to keep. "Well," I drawled, like I was reconsidering, "maybe there is no need for you to prove your worth. Not yet atleast."
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, but she didn’t dare show relief. Her gaze stayed on , wary, that stubborn edge barely keeping her together.
"But make no mistake," I added, letting my voice drop, watching her eyes widen, "if you bore , if you beco... tireso," I smirked, letting the silence draw out, "I have no qualms about disposing you. You understand that, don’t you?"
She didn’t respond, her silence louder than any words. She understood.
"Good," I murmured, a final taunt before I turned, making my way back to the throne with a satisfied smirk. "Consider this a... reminder."
She held her ground, a flicker of anger simring beneath her mask, but she didn’t dare say anything. Not with the stakes laid out before her.
"Now, you may leave," I said, settling back, already dismissing her with a bored wave.
For a heartbeat, she lingered, reluctance clear in the way she hesitated, her gaze hard, anger simring in silence. But with a slow, controlled breath, she turned, her steps careful and deliberate, each one an exercise in restraint as she walked back down the hall, her defiance hidden beneath a mask.
As the doors closed behind her, I let out a sigh of satisfaction. Yes, she was different from the rest. And as long as she kept that fire, I would keep her here, close enough to watch, close enough to break—whenever I chose.
Reviews
All reviews (0)