Page 20 of Vows of Sacrifice

If I was beginning to get used to seeing him shirtless in front of me—well, ‘getting used to’ was a bit of an exaggeration to describe that feeling—when it came time for bed, my anxiety spiked. He eventually realized this, but kept his expression neutral and said:

“I’m warning you, Ashana. I’m not going to sleep on the floor.”

I sent him a pleading look.

“You’re my wife now. We sleep together, period. If I agree to leave you alone tonight, you’ll find an excuse for the next night and the night after that. It’s going to be a never-ending story. You might as well get used to it right away.”

His tone was final. With a heavy heart, I settled under the sheets, laying at the edge of the bed.

“Ashana, I promised I wouldn’t force you. Just relax.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve never shared my bed with a man. How do you expect me to relax?” I retorted as he settled in beside me.

“Well, I kept my pants on, so that should help.”

I turned my head sharply in his direction.

“I wonder how!”

He shrugged.

“I usually sleep naked. I thought I was showing some, uh, delicacy?”

Worst of all, he seemed sincere! He wasn’t even joking!

“My lord is too good. His generosity will be his downfall.”

I was flabbergasted. Literally. This time, he caught the sarcasm and, instead of taking offense, he responded with a broad smile and gave me a wink.

“I know. But what can I say? I can’t help myself, can I?”

With that, he lay back with a contented sigh, while I remained staring at him, dumbfounded. With his arms crossed under his neck, he closed his eyes. For my part, I stubbornly stayed far away on my side of the bed, even if it meant falling on the floor during the night.

Eventually, however, I fell asleep. Admittedly, in the exact position I’d been in before I dozed off, which proved just how unsettled I was. I imagined that, in such a state of nerves, it was normal that the slightest noise or movement in the room would wake me up. Which was the case.

I suddenly opened my eyes to the darkness that reigned the room. The candle had burned out, but I could still make out his tall, broad-shouldered silhouette. He stood there, near the bed, motionless. When I opened my mouth to ask him if everything was alright, he swivelled round abruptly, and what I saw rendered me speechless with fright.

His eyes. His eyes were a luminescent red split by a vertical pupil, as if lit from within. Does he see me? Does he know I’m awake? My heart began to pound. Fingers clenched on the sheet, I realized he was about to approach me, so I quickly shut my eyes, hoping to give the illusion I was still asleep. Who was Dovah, really? Was he even human? I’d never have thought the nickname Black Demon could be true!

I then felt the warmth of his breath on my face. It carried the scent of his cigar. A harsh scent of leather, camphor, and iodine. I waited. I waited a long time. Even after his breath had disappeared from my face.

Slowly, with the unpleasant feeling that my heart wanted to burst from my chest, I opened my eyes again. He was gone. I was completely alone. I stood up cautiously, then walked over to the window and gently parted one of the curtains. Nothing and no one, apart from a few horses in the courtyard.

Maybe he’s still in the corridor, I thought. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I made my way to the door, then, with great care, turned the knob. I held my breath before daring a quick glance through the crack. Nothing there either. Except two guards chatting and laughing in hushed tones. Where did he go? To do what?

Had I imagined his red eyes?

I returned to bed. In his absence, I sprawled out a bit more. The pillow he’d laid his head on still smelled of his perfume. There was a note of iris, cedar, and vetiver. I took a long breath. It was a pleasant smell. Much more so than the cigar. And the strangest thing was, against my better judgment, there was something reassuring about smelling this scent. As if it had the power to protect me.

I must have been mistaken. A nocturnal illusion, like a nightmare. Given the day I’d had, it wouldn’t have been surprising, would it? Not to mention that monsters only existed in children’s stories. I’d grown up in a rational country.

To my shame, I fell back asleep, my nose pressed against Dovah’s perfumed pillow.

Later, still in the night, I reopened my eyes to find him beside me. This time, he smelled of earth and blood. I surreptitiously crept closer to him to check whether he had any on him or on his clothes, but it was hard to be sure with so little light.

Suddenly, his arm grabbed me and pulled me close to him. I let out a cry of surprise and fear. In response, he mumbled a few incomprehensible words, yet he made no move to release me. No matter how hard I wriggled, I couldn’t get him to let go.

“Stop fidgeting like that, otherwise you’ll risk exciting the least gallant part of my anatomy,” he grumbled, before nuzzling my neck and taking a long breath.

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