Page 55 of Cursed By Gold

But even as that virulent impulse blazes hot, pragmatism smothers it. I cannot afford for Scarlet to discover the truth of my curse, not when she could well be the key to breaking it. Not when she remains the sole object of my obsession.

Reining in my anger with an effort that leaves me physically shaking, I level the man with a look of pure, unvarnished disgust.

"You mistake my indulgences, sir," I bite out from between clenched teeth. "While a firm hand is occasionally required to guide the steps of the unruly, what I just witnessed was the behavior of a base coward striking out at his defenseless subordinate. It won't be tolerated, certainly not in my presence."

My gaze slides to Scarlet, now hunched against the wall with her knees drawn up in front of her. Her eyes shine with unshed tears of defiance and humiliation as she stares resolutely ahead, refusing to meet my assessing look.

Guilt lances through me at having been the unintended audience to her mistreatment and loss of dignity. More than anything, I ache to reach out and offer her comfort, to let her know her suffering was not unseen nor unjustified.

But I cannot. A single graze of my skin against hers and she'd be forever lost to me, transmuted into an exquisite golden statue - beautiful yet unfeeling, immutable. As devastating as her plight is to witness, I cannot allow my selfish impulses to put her in jeopardy. Not until I find a way to finally break this godforsaken curse. Not until I find the thief.

Shoving down the maelstrom of emotions churning within, I round back on the blustering cretin who put her in such a state.

"Take your leave, sir," I growl, "before I summon the guards and have you forcibly removed in a manner befitting your appalling conduct."

For an endless, heated moment, his beady eyes lock with mine in a silent battle of wills. Every fiber of my being screams for action, to unleash the rage simmering low in my belly at his unforgivable offense.

At last, he gives a sullen little bow, insolence etched in every line of his coward's form. "As you command, Your Majesty." He sneers the title like a slur before slinking away down the corridor, leaving us mercifully alone.

Once he's vanished around the corner, I risk a glance back towards Scarlet. She hasn't moved from her crumpled position against the wall, her face a frozen mask of mortified fury. A blossom of mottled bruising already darkens the delicate skin of her cheekbone, stark against her pale complexion.

The urge to go to her side, to offer whatever paltry comfort I can despite my limitations, gnaws at me with relentless insistence. But I cannot - won't.

"That man had no right to lay his hands upon you in such a way," I murmur, keeping a careful distance as I study her shrouded form. "May I take you back to your dorms? If you need to see a royal physician I can also call one to your room as soon as we get back."

For a long moment, she remains resolutely still and silent, the strap of her gown slipping down one freckled shoulder in silent testament to the struggle she so recently endured. At last, a small sigh escapes her, and she straightens incrementally, still not meeting my concerned stare.

"I appreciate your... intervention, Your Majesty," she says, her voice hoarse yet measured despite her visible disquiet. "But I'm afraid my situation is not so easily extricated."

She fiddles with the rumpled fabric of her skirts, unwittingly drawing my gaze to the trellis of vivid blossoms twining her bare arms. Small scratches score the tender skin, no doubt from fending off her assailant's advances. My hands curl into helpless fists at my sides.

"That reprehensible excuse for a man..." I have to pause, forcing down the thunderous rage that clouds my vision at the mere thought of him. "He claims to be your betrothed. Is this what you want your life to be like?"

Her jaw works silently as she finally raises her haunted gaze to meet mine head-on. What I see burning in those turbulent blue-green depths lances straight through all my defenses - fear and resignation warring with naked longing. Longing for what, I cannot say.

"No," she says at last in a voice scarcely above a whisper. "It is not."

Those two words, spoken in such a soul-weary tone, reverberate through me like physical blows, each more devastating than the last. She does not want this promised union, that much is unmistakable. And whatever circumstance binds her to enduring such mistreatment clearly weighs heavily upon her spirit.

Instinctively, I take a half-step towards her, palms upturned in a silent entreaty for understanding. For trust. "If you wouldpermit it, I can help you. You need not reside any longer under...his dominion."

Her mouth twists in a rueful, one-sided quirk of her lips. "You are gracious beyond measure to offer such haven, Your Majesty. But freedom is a luxury I cannot yet afford. My...situation remains unchanged, for the present."

The bitterness in her tone slices me to the core. To be bound to such hateful circumstances against one's will...

My jaw clenches hard enough to crack bone as I strive to project an aura of steady confidence, despite the maelstrom of useless rage swirling within. What is going on that she thinks this poor excuse of a human could fix whatever has her bound to this man that her king could not?

"Please let me take you back to your dorm, at the very least," I attempt a reassuring tone, hoping against hope that she'll take this final offered kindness. "It would set my mind at ease to ensure you arrive without any further...unpleasantries this night."

For an interminable stretch, she holds my gaze, weighing my words and the sincerity behind them. At last, giving the barest incline of her chin, she rises to her feet on legs that only tremble a little.

"Very well," she acquiesces in that same threadbare tone. "I would be...grateful for the escort, Your Majesty."

Suppressing my sigh of relief, I turn and begin retracing my path towards the entrance and the awaiting carriages beyond. From the corner of my eye, I track Scarlet's progress as she follows a respectful pace behind, back straight despite the ordeal she's clearly just endured.

My heart aches with useless outrage at the injustice of her circumstance. To be so strong and proud, yet still bound to the whims and cruelties of lesser men. Were I not so intimately acquainted with the crushing weight of forces beyond one'scontrol, I might not recognize that subtle, telltale despondence lurking behind her eyes.

Sophia and the palace guards remain conspicuously absent from the entrance hall as we make our way through the vaulted space. No doubt they've already escorted the captured thief to the palace dungeons as I instructed.

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