The next few days, I make myself scarce. Figuring that if I’m not around, he might just… forget about me. I stay in my room, except for the trips to the bathroom or the kitchen. On one of those stealthy midnight kitchen trips, I see a dozen empty bottles of sweet-smelling liquor, all stacked in a pile by the kitchen trash.

It may just be my imagination, but maybe his behavior the other night made him ashamed. Maybe it was the drink that drove him to terrorize me.

But I don’t stick around to find out what his motivations are. For all I know, he’s just cleaning up, with no plans to act differently.

He may be the only person around, but he’s still a stranger to me.

I spend my time quietly exploring the castle and thinking about why I ran away from the church. To my surprise, there are several other wings, each with at least two floors of chambers. All of them are bare, all except for a bedroom and office occupied by Dryas.

I skirt the rooms he’s inhabiting, finding the other rooms empty and silent. The lights don’t even work in one wing, and there are dust skirts thrown over the chairs and light fixtures. A light layer of dust covers everything up there, which isn’t surprising since the windows aren’t thrown open to allow the fresh sea breeze in.

All the while, my little brain is churning continuously. I keep sticking to one part. The part where Father Derrik and Prince Henrick agree that I can be disposed of.

Disposed of like I’m some dirty tissue, used and clinging to their hands. Every time I remember how they said it, how they seemed jovial… my face heats and I have to grip something extra hard.

I play the whole conversation again and again in my head, going over each puzzling thing they said. The bit about how I’m supposed to be related to someone called the Rebel King…

Who is the Rebel King?

Why does having someone related to him matter to Prince Henrick?

It seems like Father Derrik was presenting me to Prince Henrick as the Rebel King’s heir. If that’s truly the case, how long has Father Derrik known?

Is it possible that the order found us wandering the streets of London and took us in, knowing the entire time that we might be of some use to them? I hate to think about it because we lived in the convent for so long, but it makes a sick kind of sense.

I wish I could talk to Ama about this, to use her as my sounding board. I feel a pang because I haven’t missed my sister as much as I should’ve. Only now, now that she could be useful to me, do I turn my thoughts upon her.

Where is she?

I hope it’s somewhere safe and warm.

After I’ve looked around the premises, I head back to my room. My mood suddenly changes, dropping low. I lie down on my bed, shivering in my kimono.

Wondering what Father Derrik would say if he could see me right now, dressed in this barely-there outfit.

Filthy little slut.

Snake-tongued harlot.

Forbidden temptress, luring unsuspecting men to their doom.

I imagine him saying the last bit while he unzipped his pants and lifted himself free of his undergarments. He would plop his… business… right before my face, rigid and throbbing.

“Now show God how repentant you are,” he would command, brushing my hair back from my face. “Worship Him. Go as far as you would go for your Lord. And don’t forget to watch your teeth…”

Shuddering, I push the mental image away. I try to pop my neck, tense. Rubbing my neck, I almost jump out of my skin when I realize that Dryas is only a few feet away.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” I breathe, bringing my hand to my chest. My heart strums dramatically. “What… what do you want?”

His eyes pin me, dancing. The corners of his mouth kick up. “What were you thinking about, little bird?”

I bite my lip, frowning. “I… I don’t know.”

The lie comes tumbling out before I’ve even thought it through. He raises his brows, coming further into my room. He prowls, seeming to stalk me.

“Were you thinking about sex?” he asks, cocking his head. “Are you lonely here without company?”

My brows knit. I am a little lonely, but I don’t think that’s what he means. “I’m fine.”

He considers me for a moment. “You know, I bet you’re a virgin.”

My cheeks instantly go beet red. I’m not a virgin, but that’s a secret that I keep with Father Derrik and God as the only witnesses. Instead of answering Dryas, I cast my glance downward.

That only encourages him, eggs him on.

“You are a virgin. I can tell just by the way you sit, so prim.” I look down frowning, at how I’m sitting on my bed. My legs are folded beneath me, knees together, ankles touching. That’s the way good girls sit. That was drilled into me for hours on end at the convent.

I look up to him with questioning eyes. He comes over to the bed, making it seem small with his big body. He sits down languidly, his eyes roving over my body. I shift uncomfortably, wishing I was wearing way more clothing than the see-through kimono and the matching lace underwear.

I wish specifically for a brassiere because my breasts are where his eyes seem to catch time and again.

“You’ve probably never even seen a cock, have you?” he asks.

I blush, ducking my head. I haven’t heard of a man’s… business… being called that before. A cock. But that doesn’t change the fact that Dryas couldn’t be more wrong.

I’m a sinner.

A whore.

A woman who tempts men.

I have seen a… a thing. But I’m not about to tell him that. So, I press my lips into a tight line and try not to scowl.

Dryas’s expression only turns more devilish. “You haven’t, I think. Do you know how much of a turn on that is, thinking that I’m going to be your first?” Then he pauses, thinking. “First everything. Isn’t that right, little bird?”

I worry about how to respond, but he isn’t even waiting for an answer. He doesn’t touch me, but he brings a hand down, flattening the front of his slacks. There, easily illuminated in the fading daylight, is the long, rigid outline of his… his cock.

With the same languid ease as he lies down, he pulls up his dark shirt, flashing his ab muscles when he frees it from his waist. I’ll admit to some curiosity about his… thing.

Would it look like F’s?

Would it have the same smell? Acrid and repulsive, like F’s?

My momentary interest must be easy to read on my face because D sneaks me a sly glance as he unzips his pants. I’m too familiar with the motion of a man freeing himself from his pants, but D surprises me.

He shoves his pants partway down his thighs. He’s not wearing anything beneath them, so his… cock springs out. I arch my eyebrows as I look at it, thick and long and heavy. It’s a dusky pink, which makes sense because D is much darker than F’s pastiness.

My head tilts to the side, which seems to please D. He sprawls out on the bed, taking up most of the room. Fisting his cock, he squeezes it as he starts to massage it in long, lazy strokes. He looks me up and down, his gaze heated.

“Do you want to touch my cock?” he asks, biting his lip. I can’t shake my head fast enough. He laughs. “That’s fine, for now. I’ll just gauge your interest by how hard your nipples are.”

I drag my gaze down to my own chest, blushing. He’s right, of course. My nipples are pointing straight out through the gauzy material of my kimono. Instinctively, I wrap my arms over my chest, covering my nipples.

“Stop covering yourself up,” Dryas says, pausing midstroke to push my hands away. “I have my cock out. You’re in close quarters. It’s natural to be interested. Turned on, even.”

I can’t meet his eyes. “It’s wrong.”

He sighs, stroking himself again. “No, it’s not. Religion aside, you’re a pretty girl and I’m a handsome guy. We were meant to find each other attractive. To want to fuck.”

As he talks, I keep sneaking peeks at his body. I can’t help it, I’m just curious. About his body, about his attitude toward… sex.

What kind of mind frame do you have to be in to pull out your cock and start… pleasuring yourself… in front of someone who is practically a stranger? Not one that I understand, obviously.

I shift on the bed. D looks at me speculatively, using his free hand to widen the gap in front of my kimono. Flushing, I do what I have been trained to do for years. I don’t resist, I just look down.

“You’re very pretty,” he says, distracted. “You have such a nice body. And you’re so fragile, I could crush you by accident if I’m not careful.” His free hand lands on my outer thigh, caressing it. It feels like a burning brand making me flinch, but he just leaves it there. “Little bird. That’s what you remind me of. A sparrow, maybe. I wonder, little bird, what makes you sing?”

I swallow thickly. What does he mean by that?

My heart is hammering in my chest, my breaths coming faster now. His hand stroking his cock moves faster now. “Look at me, little bird.”

I shake my head. I shouldn’t watch him pleasuring himself. No one should see it. Doing that is against God’s law. But Dryas is insistent.

He moves up on the bed, his free hand catching my chin. Forcing my face up, he meets my gaze with hungry eyes.

“Look at me,” he repeats. “Watch me. I’m turned on right now. This is how I’m expressing it, by fisting my cock. I look at you, at your tits, at your ass, and it gets me hard. Look at my cock, if you want. Or look me in the eye.”

My lips are dry. My throat, too. I cast a glance down to where he pulls on his cock. I can’t help but notice the details. His cock is thick and engorged, a vein standing out as he works his hand along the length. It does have a scent, electric and faintly sour, a little like the way that batteries taste.

As I watch, a little bit of fluid leaks from the tip, dribbling down where it threatens to fall. For a second, when it hangs there, it’s milky white like marble.

I don’t want to notice. But these details are burned into my brain the second I see them.

My chest tightens, my nipples become more pronounced. I watch Dryas’s gaze as it sweeps down my body, going from my breasts to my privates. Blushing, I realize that the tightness in my chest has spread.

Across my abdomen. And lower, the feeling prickling downward into the silky reddish thatch of hair. To my slit, even.

And as much as I don’t want it, I feel a wetness between my legs. Tensing up, I know that if D knew, he would revel in it.

In my curiosity, I am turned on. I don’t understand how but knowing that I am only makes me ashamed.

Slut.

Whore.

Though those words are usually on F’s lips as he touches himself, I’m more than happy to fill in the words myself. I’m disgusted and disgusting, in equal parts.

Glancing back up to Dryas’s face, I guiltily lock eyes with him once more.

He chuckles. His breathing is quick and uneven.

“You like this,” he says softly, stroking himself over and over again, faster and faster. “Fuck. Look at me, karthoula mou. I’m going to come…”

His free hand drops to my thigh again, squeezing it. He closes his eyes, his brow wrinkling. I can’t help but watch as he throttles his cock, pounding it furiously.

I know this all too well, this part at the end. He’s going to force me to open my mouth and catch the milky white substance that he ejaculates.

Then the humiliation and name calling will begin anew. I know this. I’m ready for it.

All of the sudden his cock twitches. He uses his hand to cover the tip and groans as he finishes in spurts. He clenches my thigh but doesn’t force my head down.

I am honestly puzzled. Doesn’t he need me to help him… finish?

Dryas lets go of my leg, opening his eyes. He looks at the stringy white stuff clinging to his hand, dripping down onto his pants. He doesn’t seem overly concerned.

“Mmm,” is all he says. “It’s nice to know someone has come while thinking about you, is it not?”

Biting my lip, I frown. Definitely not. Not the way that Father Derrik taught me to do it, forcing me down so I choke as he spasms into my mouth. I’m still unsure about how Dryas does it, to be honest.

I’m so caught up in my thoughts, I am caught off guard when Dryas leans in and catches my lips. Quick and soft, his kiss is over before I realize it has begun.

My fingers flying to my mouth, I can only stare at him, wide-eyed.

“Good night, little bird.” He lurches off the bed, pulling his pants up. The sticky mess disappears with him.

And I’m left wondering what in Heaven’s name just happened.