Page 133 of The King's Man
He owned a slave.
But he’d saved her from a worse fate.
But he owned a slave, a woman, and he’d slept with her.
But he wasso clearthat he never took advantage of a woman and he’d been so gentle with me…
Was it possible for someone in that position to truly make a choice without feeling the pressure of his power?
I made the choice, and I was bonded to him.
ButwasI making the choice, or was the choice making me—
A small, strangled sound broke in his throat and he turned back to look at me, his eyes tormented, but still fiery with anger.
“I understand why you fear this picture, Dee. In any other man, I would stand beside you and fight it. But you wound me… What reason have I given you to question my integrity on this? What possible evidence have I provided that I would harm you, or any other woman, in that way? I have spent my life as a soldier,” he said hoarsely. “I have taken blows, I’ve been stabbed, I’ve been beaten within an inch of my life. But I have never…”
I tensed as a strange sensation flooded the bond and suddenly I was scrambling.
Jann’s fists tightened until his knuckles were white. “No one has everhurt methe way your expectation that I amevilhurts me, Diadre. No one.Ever.”
I gaped as he stared at me, miserable, then turned on his heel. “I won’t go far. I’ll watch for any intruders. You’re safe. But… I need to be alone for a time,” he muttered, then disappeared into the brush, leaving me there. Also alone.
And reeling.
47.Seeing Clearly
~ DIADRE ~
I could feel the ache in him. The bone-deep pain and disappointment. And it tore me up inside, because I knew that feeling.
Oh, how I knewthatfeeling.
But I railed against it, because when I had felt that way, it was at the hands of men who’d either discarded me like a used handkerchief, or betrayed me.
When a surge of pain washed from him through the bond, I feltangrybecause I wasn’t that kind of monster!
And yet… I hated that I had hurt him. Hated myself for it.
But I also despised that he had a slave. Hestillhad a slave. No matter how he might have helped her or protected her… heowneda woman.
God, I was so conflicted!
The instinct was there to go after him. To insist that he seethat I was right to be hurt and scared—to question! Couldn’t he see that the entire reason I didn’t trust was because he held all the strength while I was at his mercy? And that was true for this slave woman, also?
Couldn’t he see that all the power was his?
Something deep inside me resisted that thought, and I didn’t understand it.
Despite my weariness, my body felt tight and itchy. I needed to move. I needed to get my head clear! But I couldn’t. So I paced, walking circles that matched the loops in my head.
He owned a slave—a despicable practice!
But it was a tradition he hadn’t established or agreed with. A practice he wanted to work against. The slave he’d taken, he’d done so to save her…
He should never have taken her at all!
But that would have meant ignoring the pain she suffered at someone else’s hands…
