Page 80 of A Brat's Tale
“Remember what I said? You don’t have to be so formal, Tristan. We’ll be married. I can’t have my husband calling me ‘your highness’ when we’re alone.”
I don’t mean to say it, but it comes out. “Really? I would have thought that was a fetish of yours.”
His head snaps up, and he searches my face to see if I’m serious. I’m somewhat serious, which is what makes the rest of it so funny. The stone man cracks a smile. “Perhaps a bit,” he admits.
“Aren’t I to call you Master, isn’t that what I’m being trained for?”
I should not have said that. He flushes with arousal. “Yes, but even that will have its time and place.”
Oh Gods. What is happening? Is Alrik aroused by me too? What is it with me and meeting Elves who have surprise human fetishes? I’m so done with that nonsense.
“You should eat,” he says. “Come sit at my feet. Show me how well your training is going.”
Bloody fuck.Can’t I just embark on one perilous journey that works out smoothly for me? This has been a day of disasters. I know arguing will get me nowhere, so I go to him in the graceful way Strobavik taught me and kneel at his feet in the same position that’s already made my thighs sore. My training has paid off. Strobavik always instructs me to think of Alrik in some way and I do now, it’s automatic. My expression must come off as worship.
Alrik reaches out, but his hand pauses before he lays it on my head then takes his time as he runs his fingers through my hair. “That’s it Kathir. Very good. I’m surprised you can be so well-behaved.” He slides the covered tray over, which contains my dinner.
I should keep my mouth shut, let him say what he needs to say, get this over with so that I can leave. But Tristan, thy name is fool. “Whatother choice do I have? I have no wish to be beaten like a pell, Highness.”
His hand cinches to my roots and I have to breathe through the pain to keep from crying out. I also may have just fucked everything up. If he makes true on his promises, I won’t be able to climb down the side of the building. “S-Sssorry, Master,” I say hoping the whole “Master” thing will remind him of his cock, which could also go another kind of sideways—a much better kind.
I luck out. He lets go. “I’ll let that one go because I’ve been pleased with the reports. Strobavik isn’t easy to satisfy, and he speaks highly of you.” He does? That man’s as prickly as my mother’s cross-stitching needles. “But I’m not a lenient Elf. I will beat manners into you, and I won’t harbor any remorse about it.”
I take a breath.I have to find Corrik.I’m sure, somewhere out there, the perfectly obedient creature exists for Alrik, but I am not it. I nod and resume my obedient kneeling. He starts cutting up my meat and holds it out in front of my mouth with his fingers, so I have to lean forward to take it from him. I’m not stupid, he’s testing me. You’re not supposed to break form and if you do, it’s supposed to be as little as possible unless you have been granted permission. He’s holding it too far away for me not to break form. But I’m nothing if not competitive; I won’t let him win. “May I, Master?”
He smiles, impressed. “You may.”
Now I can lean forward and take the meat from his hand. The slave protocols are much more stringent than the ones Corrik was teaching me. And I don’t dislike them per se; at times they’re appealing in a humiliating sort of way, which turns me on. I just need more room to play. Some thrive like this in a twenty-four-seven slave relationship, but someone like me can do it only for a short while at a time. Eventually, I’ll act out, it’s just the way I’m wired.
And it hits me. In a snap I fall into subspace, the fastest I’ve ever fallen. A serene presence takes over, everything is light and pleasing Alrik comes easy. He takes me through several protocols, testing me. I pass, reveling in his praise.
Do I have a submissive in me after all?
Of course, it’s Alrik to bring it out in me most.
I’m more out of it than I realized while kneeling and when Alrik instructs me to stand up, I stumble.Shite.I’m supposed to be a graceful bird or something else Strobavik says. “Sorry, Highness.”
“Nowthatwasn’t your fault,” he says. “Come with me.”
I can hardly believe what I’m experiencing as hehelpsme over to the bed and he’s gentle, so much gentler than I ever thought he could be. “You’ve hit deep subspace, Tristan. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you were capable, but wow, it’s like you were born for it.”
I was? This has never happened before. I don’t have time or desire to blame him at the moment.
“Lie back, it’s only right I take care of you after such a thing. Then you will sleep.”
Take care of me? What does that mean? I assume he means sex but am relieved when he starts clinically massaging my thighs. It’s nice and paired with the floaty bliss I’m in, it’s easy to drift off. I’m not sure, but I swear I feel a set of lips press to my forehead.
I wake up with a start. It’s dark—fuck!—and I’ve missed my chance to leave when the guards were switching off. If I leave now, I’ll have to contend with them. Not impossible, but harder. I consider it again, what’s one more day? But it’s already been too long. If Corrik isn’t dead, how do I know he’s not hanging by his last threads? A day could mean the difference between life and death.
I have to go now.
I dress and don my boots quickly; I grab my pack and then I hop onto the first ledge.
Chapter 17
I’ve looked down at this maze of stones almost every day for the nine months. When you get used to being inside, the outside world becomes foreign quickly. Your brain plays tricks on you, things that weren’t scary before, seem scary even though they haven’t changed.
You have.
