Chapter Three #2
Another dismissive shrug, the gesture exaggerated by the absurd gaudiness of that coat, and even more annoyingly by the powerful breadth of his shoulders.
And with it, the faintest twitch of a smile.
It was the first genuine sign of amusement I’d seen from him, and this had provoked it. What a bastard.
“I fully expected some terrible accident to have befallen your potions, and so I’ve thoughtfully provided more.
” He waved a languid hand. I followed the gesture, and…
yes. A wooden case of the type commonly used by apothecaries to protect their more expensive wares sat on the top of the dressing table beside a painted vase full of freshly cut peonies, that latter probably placed there by some friendly housemaid who didn’t know Lord Stefan would rather throw me out the window than welcome me with flowers.
“There should be more than enough for your needs for some time. More will be forthcoming. In fact, should all of these bottles mysteriously disappear, I will personally pour another one down your throat, even if I need to tie you to the bed to do it. Are we clear?”
Thank Ennolu that I wouldn’t need to spread my legs more than once for this arrogant, sneering man, but…he really meant to insist on it being only the once?
My mind raced, clouded with confusion and terror.
The Lord Chancellor wanted me to please my husband.
Keep him in, what had he called it? A “receptive frame of mind.” Willing to be guided, happy in his new life here at home doing as his parents thought proper.
If Lord Stefan took me once and once only, that would hardly leave him in a lust-addled state of receptivity.
As I’d feared, Lord Ettori had badly misjudged Lord Stefan’s taste in men.
And Lord Stefan had seen through the plan. He’d agreed to the marriage. He meant to consummate it. Whatever pressure his father had exerted had brought him that far. But he was as far from a receptive frame of mind as a man could be.
The Lord Chancellor would kill my sister.
I had to make Lord Stefan believe I truly wanted him, and more than that, I had to convince him to want me. This would be so much easier if he were stupid.
“You think I was the one to get rid of my potions?” I stammered.
“Of—of course not. No dawn mage would leave himself completely without them in case of emergencies.” Or in case of having no recourse but bending over for you to stay alive, you revolting prick.
The words bubbled up, and I choked them down, swallowing bile.
“But I don’t want to take them anymore. Not now that I, now that I have a husband who—”
“Who what?” Lord Stefan demanded, narrowing his eyes and examining me down his long nose.
“Who’d be willing to service you like a stud stallion on a fucking schedule?
So to speak? Not a chance. All right, he took them.
I’m willing to believe you’d have kept a dose of them as insurance against my ill behavior if you’d been given the opportunity.
It doesn’t much matter to me which of you threw them out, and I don’t give a damn if you want to take them or not, as I’ve already made clear.
After tonight, you’ll take them and you’ll stay here in these rooms without causing any trouble, and if you don’t, I’m sure you can imagine that I’ll be… displeased.”
His tone injected a world of menace into that last word.
Lord Stefan took a step closer to me, and then another, seeming to loom over me far out of proportion to his advantage of height and muscle.
I shrank back against the bedpost, the air sucking out of my lungs.
Now. He would take me now, and it would hurt, and I didn’t even know it would hurt, precisely, only that it would…
“Let’s get this over with,” he said, tone as hard and even and smooth as stone, and all the more terrifying for it.
This wasn’t a man who needed to shout to make himself feared.
Those eyes burned, though, black fire in their depths, belying his outward calm.
“Get yourself ready, if you didn’t slick yourself up before the wedding.
And then bend over and hold still, and we can both close our eyes and think of Calatria. ”
Bend over. Hold still. Get myself ready? Slicked? Oh, gods, why couldn’t Abbot Junius have given me some of this information, rather than…or perhaps he had, and that was the part I hadn’t listened to.
All of my muscles had seized up, my arms trembling with the force of my grip on the bedpost. I knew this was necessary, and I thought I’d steeled myself for it, but panic raced through every limb, completely out of my control. I swallowed hard, gazing up at Lord Stefan in mute, frozen misery.
He reared back as if I’d hit him. “Don’t,” he snarled. “I’ve already said that hypocritical, limpid-eyed-virgin nonsense isn’t going to work on me!”
He reached out, wrapping his hand around my upper arm, fingers digging in, pulling me away from the support of the bedpost. Toward him, toward…
And that was the moment it became real, striking me with bone-melting force: this stranger meant to rape me, here and now, this moment, forcing me down onto my face, wrenching my legs apart, pushing between and—
I shrank back convulsively, my head knocking into the bedpost, seeing stars, barely hearing my own agonized cry of fear through the thickened constriction in my ears.
His hand tightened, it hurt, and I bit my lip, tasting blood, my moan slipping out anyway—and he let me go, moving so quickly that he was halfway across the room from me before I’d finished blinking the tears off of my lashes.
He stood and gazed at me silently, his bloodless face set in hard, grim lines.
“Believe me when I say I want this far less than you do,” he said at last. “You weren’t my choice.”
My teeth clenched with the effort of keeping in hysterical laughter, or another scream.
His choice? He had the nerve to bemoan his lack of a choice?
Ennolu. I hadn’t had one—ever, really. I hadn’t chosen to be born like this, to be given magic by one god and cursed by another.
Or to go to the abbey to waste away in a half-life there, or to then be dragged back and threatened with my little sister’s life into marrying a man who detested and resented me.
If emotions could’ve translated into instantaneous, spontaneous magic, as some books I’d read had told me, his handsome face would’ve exploded into a million pieces.
In my mind, brains spattered all over the brocade and carvings and expensive carpet, and a headless fop toppled to the floor, blood spurting from the stump of his neck, silk coat crumpled and stained.
“Forgive my confusion,” he went on, voice still as cold as ice. “Both my father, who arranged this marriage, and you, a moment ago, told me explicitly that you wanted this, but your behavior indicates otherwise. I assure you that I will not force myself on you, now or on any other occasion.”
I relaxed a tiny fraction. My heart still raced. If it didn’t slow soon, I’d pass out from the force of the blood pounding in my temples.
“But the marriage must be consummated. If not now, then soon. We’ll dine with my parents in three days, as I told my father earlier.
He’ll want to know how we’ve spent the intervening time.
If he’s disappointed in the success of his matchmaking, it won’t end well for you.
He has a temper. So I wouldn’t recommend mentioning the potions, and if you haven’t recovered from your fit of prudishness by then and sent for me to do what we need to do, you’d be wise to simper and blush and play the well-fucked little whore.
In any case, my patience isn’t infinite.
If you want the benefits of your new position, then you’ll make up your mind to fulfill your side of the bargain. ”
And with that, he turned and flung the door open, strode through it, and slammed it with a thud and a rattle.
His father had a temper? Gods. He needed to look in a mirror.
I waited a moment to see if a key turned in the lock. It didn’t, but it hardly mattered. Where did I have to go?
It took all of the strength I had left to pry the lid off the apothecary’s box with shaking hands, uncork one of the three bottles I found inside, and swallow enough of the contents that I knew, even given the variances in different formulations, that it’d take care of my immediate needs.
There would be plenty of time to measure out doses and painstakingly calibrate the timing of them once I’d recovered.
I staggered to the bed and fell face-first onto it, melting into the mattress as the potion took hold and counteracted the oncoming tainted rush of my curse’s magic.
And then I couldn’t fight it anymore. Darkness descended, and I fell into something between sleep and a faint.