Chapter Ten – Altair
Chapter Ten
Altair
I’m exhausted. My entire body aches, and I barely make it out of my chambers this morning.
I consider skipping breakfast altogether, but the servants are used to setting everything up for me at this hour, and I don’t want to disappoint them or disrupt their carefully maintained routine.
So, I drag myself downstairs, forcing one foot in front of the other.
When I arrive in the dining room, I stop dead in the doorway.
The table is set for two people. Tressa is already sitting down, waiting for me.
I can’t believe my eyes. I thought she’d leave without even saying goodbye, that she’d pack her things in the night and disappear before dawn.
She looks up at me, and there’s something in her eyes that’s different from yesterday.
Something has changed, though I can’t put my finger on exactly what.
Her features are relaxed instead of tense, softer instead of sharp with hostility.
She’s not on edge the way she usually is around me, not braced for a fight or an insult.
I brush off my confusion and straighten my back, unfurling my wings wide to project the confidence I don’t feel. I need to look unbothered, need to appear as if nothing fazes me, even though on the inside, I’m beyond ecstatic that she’s still here and hasn’t left yet.
I allow myself to wonder if it’s too much to hope that she won’t leave at all. Then I remember the spat we had in the library, and I doubt that Tressa would give me a real chance after everything I’ve done to her.
“Good morning,” she says.
“Good morning,” I respond, keeping my tone even as I move to sit down across from her.
A young servant girl appears with a coffee pot, pouring for both of us before disappearing back into the kitchen.
We start eating, for the first time like civilized people.
“So, how did you sleep last night?” she asks out of the blue.
I stare at her. Why the hell would she ask such a question? The inquiry feels loaded, though I can’t figure out her angle.
I slept terribly last night, and it was my own choice.
Often, when I’m restless and I’ve had a really bad day, instead of sleeping in my chambers, where everything is soft, and plush, and comfortable, I go and sleep in the old room where Tressa and Brandon used to sleep when their parents worked at the palace.
The room is small, with only two beds. I don’t even allow myself to sleep on one of the beds, because I don’t deserve it. So, I sleep on the cold stone floor, reveling in the way it breaks my back.
I huff and look away from her penetrating gaze.
“I slept fine. How did you sleep?”
“I haven’t slept much,” she says, stirring sugar into her coffee. “I was busy thinking.”
“About what?”
“I’ve decided to stay.”
I freeze with my fork and knife suspended in the air. I look at her with what must be naked shock on my face.
“Why?”
She meets my eyes without flinching.
“Because you bought me. You spent a good penny on me, and it’s only fair. I’m not a scammer. I’m going to keep my end of the bargain.”
Her reasoning should satisfy me, but instead, it leaves me confused.
“Does this mean that you accept to be my wife?”
She frowns and looks away, then shrugs, the gesture noncommittal and frustrating.
I scowl at her.
“That is a non-answer.”
She snaps at me, her eyes flashing with irritation.
“Maybe give me some time, Altair. I might not have an answer for you now, but who knows? Maybe I will someday.”
“What does that even mean?” I press, leaning forward. “That you are considering my proposal?”
Tressa huffs and then laughs.
“If that’s what you call a proposal...”
I smile despite myself and return my attention to my breakfast. As we eat together in silence, I realize that she’s more amenable to me today, which is strange and disorienting.
I’ve always wanted this. To talk to her like this, and be in her presence without us fighting, without cruelty and anger poisoning every interaction.
But at the same time, it feels so unnatural that I don’t know how to behave or how to be.
I don’t know what to do with my hands, where to look, how to sit.
The normalcy is more terrifying than the hostility ever was.
I can tell that she’s looking at me differently, and it baffles me. What changed between last night and this morning?
As we’re both drinking our coffee, she looks up at me and gives me a smile.
The sight takes me aback. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to her being so kind and pleasant, not sure my heart can withstand the shock of seeing warmth in her eyes instead of hatred.
On instinct, without thinking it through, I reach for her hand on the table and cover it with mine. It’s more of a test than anything else, a way to see how she reacts to my touch. Until now, she’s always avoided touching me, unless I pressured her into it or forced her hand.
To my surprise, Tressa doesn’t pull her hand away.
When I squeeze her fingers gently, testing the boundaries of this fragile peace between us, she squeezes back.
I feel a rush of adrenaline go through me, feel my blood heating and my cocks beginning to harden from this simple touch, from the knowledge that she’s allowing this connection to exist between us.
Before I realize what I’m doing, before I can stop myself or think about the consequences, I open my mouth, and the cruelest words spill out.
“It makes sense that you’d want to keep your end of the bargain. I hear you’re easy when money is involved.”
Tressa pulls her hand away, as if my touch has scalded her. She gets up from the table fast enough that her chair scrapes against the floor. She scowls down at me, her face flushing with anger and hurt.
“What did you say?”
I shrug my shoulders, affecting an indifference I don’t feel.
“The servants talk all the time. They love gossip, and sometimes it reaches my ears.”
I watch her blush furiously. I know I’ve just destroyed whatever fragile thing was building between us.
“I can’t believe you.”
She turns to leave, walking away from me just like I knew she would.
Something inside me snaps. I grab her wrist harshly, feeling the gold cuff cold beneath my palm, and pull her onto my lap.
Tressa gasps as she falls over me, unable to get out of my grasp. She’s stunned by my strength and the way I’ve trapped her against me. I press her down onto my lap, so she can feel my two cocks, fully hard for her, as they always are.
I pull her close and whisper in her ear, my breath hot against her skin.
“How about I give you more money to send to your friend? Instead, all you have to do is kiss me and maybe rub yourself on me a little.”
The words are deliberately degrading and cruel. I’m being self-destructive. I know I’m saying the wrong thing, but I can’t stop myself. I’m watching myself ruin everything from somewhere outside my body, watching myself push her away because I don’t know how to do anything else.
Tressa twists violently in my arms and slaps me hard across the face, the crack of her palm against my cheek echoing through the dining room.
“Why do you insist on being so horrible? Why do you always want to prove to me how much of a monster you are? Gods, Altair, it’s so hard to do anything else but hate you.”
She pushes herself to her feet, and this time I let her go. I watch her storm out of the dining room, watch her disappear through the doorway without looking back at me.
I sit there alone, still feeling her weight on my lap, her scent still lingering in my nostrils. My cocks are hard and aching, despite the fact that I just drove her away with my cruelty and my inability to accept anything good.
I wonder, indeed, why do I insist on being so horrible?