Page 59 of Tristan
That must cost him every time. He wants to use my Elvish name, most likely becausehechose it for me. Corrik wants to own me in every way.
I kinda love that, actually.
I equally love it when he’s tender and makes me feel like I’m the most precious thing in the world. No matter which way he takes me, it’s bound to leave me breathless and needy. I can never get enough of him being inside me, I can never get enough of having him on top of me.
Afterward, he pulls me to him and declares me “his” without words and then sings his soft Elvish lullaby.
Is all of that over now?
Time passes. I pee in the glass. I fall asleep.
Corrik doesn’t come back.
CHAPTER 16
Iwake up alone.
The bed is cold beside me. Corrik never returned or at least I think that until I see the note. Sitting up, I notice the glass I peed in is gone and in its place, a note written in lovely Elvish script, but thankfully in Markaytian.
Tristan,
I did not mean to be so tyrannical. You may of course relieve yourself as needed. Please attend to your studies.
Corrik
It’s impersonal, but it’s not a letter of termination and this means he came to check on me. I take a long, hot bath, contemplating the situation I’ve woven myself into. When I enter the front room, I expect to find catastrophe, but the debris has been cleared away and there’s new furniture in place of the old. It’s not the same furniture,each piece has been replaced down to the oil lamp mounted on the wall above the desk. A fire is burning and there’s food left for me. I get to work.
I take this to mean he wants to keep me at least. No point in me continuing to learn Elvish if we are returning to Markaytia,right?
For the first part of the morning, I do well and work through three chapters, until I read:hymwyn,orto fightin Elvish.
"Hymwyn,” I say out loud.Figures it’s easy for me to say.
Damn it! I close the book. This is hard. I want to obey Corrik, but it’s im-bloody-possible. Without a sword, without getting up to practice every day, I don’t know who I’ll be. The concubine part I can live with, enjoy it even. I’ll do whatever he asks of me—even if it’s to be his bed-chained-love-slave—but the other, being a pampered doll? It’s my worst nightmare.
It’s nightfall by the time my husband returns and I’m not quite as forgiving as I was last night. Now I feel abandoned, alone, and not so generous to the one Corrik Cyredanthem. The door creaks open and I turn from my desk to glare at him. “Where have you been?”
My voice drops off to nothing as I watch him swarm in, black and menacing. He’s dressed like I’ve never seen him. Corrik always wears white, but now he’s wearing a long black coat, black pants and leather boots that reach the underside of his knees and click on the hardwood floors.
“On the ship,” he says, like he’s not dressed any differently than usual.
I maintain my bravery, like the dragon warrior I am, and throw the book at him. He catches it without exerting any effort. “Do not patronize me,” I say.
“Or what?”
That deflates me. I can’t think of anything I’m willing to do at the moment.
“That’s what I thought,” Corrik says, and smirks circling around me and placing the book on the table. His look is predatory, like he’scome to eat me, but not in the way I would prefer. “I was hoping to find you in a better disposition after some time alone.”
“You would have done, if you’d returned last night instead of ordering me not to move off the bed and making it so I had to pee in a glass. A glass, Corrik.” I didn’t care last night, and I don’t care that much now but I know he feels somewhat bad about it and I’m using it against him.
“Which is why I’ve decided you’ve had enough punishment for this transgression, but I will not be so easy on you in the future. I’ll not be easy on you in general anymore.”
I stare at him for what feels like a long time.
“Fair,” I say, but am in no mood to speak with him further. I turn back to my work.
“You do not dismiss me, I dismiss you.”
