Her hands traced over my stomach. I tried to move, to resist, but my arms were still bound—and so were my legs. More than ever, I felt helpless. Powerless. Not just as a slave, but as a person.
"Shh… it's okay," she cooed, her voice soft and falsely soothing. "You don't need to worry. I'll take care of you."
I forced my body to relax, trying to mask the fear clawing its way up my spine. If I couldn't fight her physically, maybe I could talk my way out. Maybe I could reason with her.
"Your Majesty… I know you've shared your feelings," I began carefully, keeping my voice calm. "And as your servant, I will do my best to comply. But I must say—surely a royal engaging with someone of my station in this way... it would tarnish your purity. You deserve someone of equal nobility."
I hoped—desperately—that she would hear the logic in my words. That she would stop.
Instead, my head snapped sideways, pain flaring in my cheek where her hand struck me.
"Do not mistake my kindness for permission to speak as if we are equals," she hissed. "I am your superior. You will do as I say. Do not think otherwise."
She climbed over me, straddling me like I was some object beneath her. I shut my mouth. There was no more talking my way out of this. My thoughts retreated inward, my body tensed.
But before she could move further, a thunderous banging echoed through the room—so loud the metal hinges on the door groaned under the impact.
"DON'T YOU DARE LAY A FINGER ON MY PROPERTY!"
The roar of a man's voice—one I knew—cut through the room like a blade. Lord Thorne.
The princess froze, visibly startled, as if the idea of being interrupted had never crossed her mind.
The door burst open with a crash. Even with my limited view, I could make out the unmistakable outline of Lord Thorne, his presence filling the room like a stormfront. The flicker of hope I'd buried came surging back.
"You spoiled, prissy little girl," Thorne growled, his voice thick with contempt. "Get off of him. Royal or not, how dare you come into my house and lay hands on what is mine. The audacity. Your father and I have an understanding—one that places my house as equal to those of noble blood, regardless of how I earned it."
He stepped forward, his glare enough to wither stone. "Do you intend to make your father a liar? Or are you simply too entitled to understand diplomacy?"
The princess slowly climbed off me, and the moment her weight left my body, it felt like a crushing fog had lifted. Lord Thorne moved to my side and began unfastening the bindings at my wrists and ankles.
"Boy, leave. Return to your quarters," he ordered, eyes never leaving the princess.
I didn't question it. I didn't want to give anyone a reason to change their mind. I slid off the bed and started for the door when her voice stopped me.
"Edric… I'll be back for you," the princess said softly—almost mournfully.
I turned briefly, bowed to them both, and then walked—quickly—through the door. The moment I stepped into the hallway, it was like I could breathe again. My heart still pounded, but I felt lighter. Safer.
I didn't slow down. I didn't look back. Whatever just happened, Lord Thorne had stepped in when I needed it most. Whatever else he might be, he'd earned a new kind of trust from me tonight.
I could thank the Immortal Flame a thousand times and it still wouldn't be enough—for guiding him to me, for pulling me from that nightmare before it could finish consuming me.
The hallways, with their usual cold stone walls, had never bothered me before. But now, after what happened, every step made my skin crawl. I needed to wash—needed to scrub every trace of her off me.
I turned down a side hallway and headed to a corner room that held the baths. The pools there cycled water from an underground aquifer. It wasn't hot, but it was warm enough. Comforting, in a way.
When I entered, there were a few others already inside, but none of them paid me any mind. I undressed quietly and slipped into the nearest pool. The moment the water touched my skin, I felt a sliver of tension ease from my shoulders.
That's when a voice spoke. It caught me off guard.
"Edric? Why are you here right now? You should be resting…"
I looked over. It was Kushim.
I didn't expect to see him here, and for a moment, I didn't know what to say. I just shook my head and muttered, "I'm alright. My body heals quickly. I didn't need much time."
I turned my gaze back to the water.
A moment later, I heard the soft splash of him entering the bath beside me.
"You sure? Not to be rude, but you look more like shit than usual."
Despite everything, the comment pulled a small smile out of me.
He was probably the only person I could actually talk to about what had just happened… so I told him.
When I finished, he let out a long, heavy sigh.
"What is her problem?" he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't even know what would've happened if she got her way. If a royal got knocked up by a slave, it'd be a disaster—for you, and probably her too. But that's not even the part that confuses me."
He looked over at me.
"She's a princess. She could have anyone she wanted. So why does she keep chasing after you?"