Chapter Seven – Tressa
Chapter Seven
Tressa
The past month has been the most horrible of my life. And that’s saying something, considering what I’ve endured before coming here.
The servants hate me. They think I’m favored by their master because I have my chambers next to his and eat at his table.
I’ve become the main topic of gossip at the palace, and that only serves to isolate me further and make me feel ashamed.
Even though I haven’t done anything to deserve their malice.
The young girls, especially, look at me with such venom that I’ve started avoiding the corridors where they work.
I have no friends here, no one to talk to, no one who understands what I’m going through.
Greta, who is in charge of me, looks at me with resentment and disdain.
I don’t understand why Altair is punishing me so harshly. I can understand that wyverns are possessive and he considers me his property. But still, what he’s doing makes no sense. He could have me as a servant and not treat me this way.
Why would he want to isolate me from everyone? What does he gain from it? It’s almost as if he’s punishing me for my family leaving fourteen years ago.
Or maybe, it could be something else. Altair calls me at all hours of the day or night, even if what he needs is small, silly, or irrelevant.
He summons me to pick up a book he dropped on the floor, or to puff up his pillows because they’re not puffed up enough.
It gives me the impression he wants me there with him.
I wonder if he is lonely himself, and he’s punishing me for it.
I’ve never seen him spend time with anyone else.
He never gets visitors, and the only time he interacts with someone other than me – or the brief interactions he has with the other servants – is when he goes to the north wing to see his parents.
I’ve been wondering about his parents. I never see them. It’s not like I want to see Lord Varrick. The memories I have of him are terrible. I’d rather never lay eyes on that monster again.
Altair and I have fallen into a sort of routine.
Mostly, I am made to wash and press his clothes.
I also tidy his room, change his sheets, and serve his food.
And I always eat his leftovers because it’s the only thing I’m allowed to eat.
By now, I’ve become accustomed to it. I don’t feel as humiliated as I did on the first day, though the bitterness never fades.
At least Altair kept his promise and gave me the rest of the money that he agreed to pay at the auction.
I sent it to Alana along with a letter. A few days later, I received a letter from Alana, but while Altair allowed me to read it, when I asked for pen and paper to write back, he said that I’m not allowed to.
This upset me so much that the next time I served him dinner, I made sure to spill food and wine on him.
The next morning, I scorched his lap with hot coffee.
No matter what I do, and no matter how horrible I am to him, he retaliates by being just as horrible. While showing me that my actions don’t affect him at all. On the contrary, sometimes he gives me the impression that he enjoys my abuse. I certainly do not enjoy his.
The letter from Alana made me feel slightly better.
My father’s debt was paid and he’s safe.
She and her mother are thinking of selling the house and buying a bigger one in the center of the city.
She isn’t working at the brothel anymore.
So, at least I feel like I did something good.
Even though I am suffering at the hands of Lord Aurellion, it is worth it.
This is what makes me continue and not break down completely.
I’m forbidden from leaving the palace, which also makes me detest Altair with every fiber of my being. Every chance I get, I insult him and hurl things at his head. We’re at war, and it’s exhausting, but if he’s going to make my life hell, I will do the exact same to him.
Every night, Altair keeps ordering me to run him a bath and assist him with bathing. I refuse each and every time.
However, his insistence is starting to wear me down.
It’s becoming more and more stressful to have this pressure hanging over me.
With each day that passes, I wonder if this is going to be the rest of my life, and if I can survive it.
If I can survive being so isolated and alone, unable to connect with anyone.
If Altair allowed me to write to Alana, at least I’d have some sort of way to process my feelings. I know Alana would understand and support me. Or maybe she’d say that I need to leave. Which makes sense, because I’d give myself the same advice.
Except I’m trapped. I was paid an unbelievable amount to do the job I’m doing, and I know other servants would love to be in my place. It’s certainly easier to serve just one person, the lord of the House, instead of doing all the other jobs around the palace. As annoying as said lord can be.
So, after a month, I’m exhausted and my resilience is starting to falter.
Tonight, when Altair once again asks me to run him a bath, I do it with a sigh. When he asks me to help him remove his jacket and his shirt, I look at him defeated, close the distance between us, and start unbuttoning.
My gesture shocks him. Altair is looking down at me as if he can’t believe his eyes. I’m finally executing his order.
I take a deep breath before I start unbuttoning his shirt. I notice that Altair takes a sharp breath himself when my fingers brush his bare skin.
I can feel my neck and cheeks flush. My body starts to warm up. I try to keep it together. I help him out of his shirt and look at him standing before me with his chest bare and his golden wings spread behind him. His strong, thick tail swishes as if he’s nervous.
His demeanor has changed. He’s not as cold and confident as before. He didn’t expect me to do it tonight, since I’ve been refusing for a month, and that makes me feel kind of powerful.
Next, I take hold of his leather belt and undo it. His chest rises and falls rapidly. He doesn’t stop me when I unbutton his trousers, but before I yank them down, I freeze and wonder if I will actually do it.
“Well?” Altair asks after a moment.
I clear my throat, pull my shoulders back, and look right into his eyes as I cock an eyebrow.
“Are you sure you want me to do this, my lord?”
Seeing how confused he seems, I continue:
“I’m just thinking that I am but a poor, wretched servant, and you are the Lord of House Aurellion. You might not want the likes of me to see you naked.”
My voice is dripping with sarcasm, but for some reason, he doesn’t catch on.
“That is exactly what I want.” He says it in a whispered growl.
“As you wish.”
I yank down his pants harshly as I crouch down to guide them to his ankles.
What I don’t expect is for him to not wear any underwear. When I look up, I’m met with the sight of not one, but two hard, flushed cocks.
I gasp and fall on my back. No matter how hard I try to look away, I can’t take my eyes off the two engorged members that are pointing straight at me.
The one underneath is slightly larger than the one on top, and beneath them, the sack is round and full. His skin is pale and smooth, with prominent darker veins running along the shafts. The heads are flushed a deep color that makes my breath catch in my throat.
Altair makes no move to cover himself. He just stands there and watches my reaction, and I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. I’m ashamed of how my own body reacts to the sight of him displayed like this.
I scramble to get to my feet, and I nearly fall back over. I can feel sweat gathering at the roots of my hair, and my core burning with something that I don’t even want to consider.
As I finally push myself to my feet, I try to compose myself and not look so affected and disheveled.
“Forgive me, my lord. I slipped. I’m so clumsy today.”
Altair smirks. “That’s okay. I have grown accustomed to your clumsiness. If I may say so, I find it rather endearing.”
I blush furiously and do my best to act casual. After all, I got myself into this situation. Now I feel like I can’t back out of it. I want to run and hide, but if I do that, then it would feel like he won.
I watch Altair walk to the claw-foot bathtub and sink into the water. Now that I can’t see the part of his body that affected me so much, I snap out of it. I grab the soap and a washcloth.
“What do you want me to do?”
He looks up at me, and for a second I think that he’s going to change his mind and tell me I can leave. He gives me his signature smile instead.
“You can wash my back. No one has scrubbed my back for a month, since you took over these duties, and then proceeded to completely ignore half of them.”
I scoff. “I haven’t ignored half of them. Of all the things you made me do, this is the only one I refused.”
“And as you can see, it was all your loss.”
I giggle, and it shocks me, because I shouldn’t be giggling. What is wrong with me?
I step behind him and start running the cloth over his shoulders and back. He moves his wings out of the way, and bends his back, leaning forward, so I can have better access. I wash him delicately, careful not to touch him more than necessary.
I notice his skin is tender. There are fading marks that crisscross along his back. I linger on them for a bit and wonder what might have caused them. Then I promptly tell myself I don’t care.
Altair lets out a low grunt, as if what I’m doing to him affects him deeply. The noise goes straight to my core.
I continue dipping the cloth in the hot water and soaping it up, and when I run it along the back of his neck, he shudders and moans. I freeze. Is he reacting this way to me? To my presence and my touch?
The image of his two cocks bouncing out of his pants invades my mind, and it suddenly feels like I can’t think of anything else.
“Is this okay?” I ask.
“Yes,” he murmurs.
“Is this good?”
It’s like I’m possessed. I keep biting my lips, but it appears I won’t shut up.
“It feels very good.”
He says it in a way that makes me believe he’s close to release.
I realize that I’ve been staring at his nape for a minute, wondering how his skin might feel under my lips if I were to kiss him there.
I snap out of it. What’s happening to me? I shouldn’t have these thoughts about Altair, the man who’s been torturing me for a month, and who will be torturing me for the rest of my life.
I drop the washcloth and abruptly stand up.
“Can you take it from here? I don’t think you need me to wash all of you.”
Altair gazes up at me. His damp hair has fallen over his forehead and his eyes, and he looks at me from beneath his long eyelashes. I’ve never seen a man look at me like this. Not even the men who paid me to have me in their bed.
“You can leave if you want to,” he says.
“If I want to?”
“Yes. Only if you want to.”
I laugh. “You’ve never given me an option before.”
“Haven’t I? I may not have said it out loud, but you’ve always had the option to leave when I asked you to do something you didn’t want to do, and very often you took it. Or don’t you remember all the times you stormed out of my chambers and slammed the door behind you?”
I incline my head and consider this.
“Oh, that was actually you giving me the option? I thought I was just taking it and getting away with it.”
Altair leans back in the tub, his body relaxing. I can see the first cock poking out of the water, and I swallow heavily. Why is my mouth suddenly filling with saliva?
“You could get away with a lot of things, you know.”
I clear my throat. I don’t know where this conversation is going, and I’m not sure I want to find out.
“So, I may leave?”
“Yes.”
“Good night.”
I have to force myself to stop staring at him as if he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Because he is. But I can’t think about him like that.
And two cocks? Two?! Who would’ve known? Not me. Do all wyverns have two instead of one?
That’s it. I turn on my heel and go to my room.
I close the door behind me, rush into the bathroom, and look at my own bathtub. I feel hot and sweaty all over. When I turn on the water, I make sure it’s cold.