Page 97 of A Brat's Tale
“To see the healers. He was sorry to miss this.” Corrik has obsessively been to the healers since we’ve returned. He wants to know the moment they approve him for travel so that we can make our way to Drakora. According to him, the sooner I am Elf, the sooner we marry again—he won’t rest until he’s my husband again.
He smirks. “I would have loved to have shown off for the prince. Perhaps I should wait.”
I grit my teeth. “Sir!”
“There he is. My naughty kitten.” A proper submissive would have said something like,whatever should please you, Master.“I know what it means for a brat to have to wait, and I should make you anyway, you would deserve it, but I haven’t been feeling right either. I’m just as anxious to get this done.”
He sits in the chair and pulls me toward him. I don’t say a word. I’m not sure what I am right now or what I’m supposed to be. When he trained me, I was meant to embodyslave. I think those lessons are done, now that Corrik’s returned—though no one has said as much—and if they’re done, we’re done. Strobavik trains slaves. He’s familiarenough with the other designations, but they’re not his specialty. These are our last moments together like this.
I will see him, of course, but it won’t be as before. Strict as he is, I adore him. I understand him. I’ll miss him.
I’ll behave myself for him today. Mostly. I’ve only ever behaved myself, mostly.
He pulls me between his legs. “Tristan, when it was discovered you’d left, I went mad with worry. I’m not made for long treks, but I found myself ready to mount a horse. Prince Alrik assured me it was unnecessary, that he was personally seeing to the matter and that I was better off here in case you returned.”
“I’m sorry, Master Strobavik.”
“I believe you’re sorry but not sorry enough not to do it again.” His eyes are hard, I duck my head. He uses his long fingers under my chin to make me look at him. “That’s why you were a mess that day, because you were planning to leave. I remember how you behaved. You earned yourself two hours of kneeling time which means that even you were conflicted about your decision.”
“How do you know I wasn’t just scared? After all, I was about to embark on a perilous journey, Master Strobavik.”
His smirk is back. “You would be a fool not to have any amount of fear, but you live for perilous journeys. That did not cause the chaos in you. Even if you didn’t know it at the time, it bothered you to have to disobey so many people.”
I nod. He’s right, and it echoes what Alrik said when he punished me. Knowing what must be done and who will feel betrayed so you can do what you feel is the right thing, isn’t easy. None the of people who would have forbid me leaving (had I told them) would have done so out of malice, but care.
“Yes, Master Strobavik. It did. It was not my wish to betray anyone.”
His facial features relax. “You may understand better when you have children to leave behind to grieve you. You think a little longer over such things.”
I’m not so sure I would have in this case, awful as that might sound. “Wait. Do you have children?”
“Tristan.”
Dammit. The appellation. “Master. Do you have children,Master Strobavik?”
He twists his lips. “Better.” But then he gives a proud smile. “I do. I have a son and a daughter so far.”
In all our time together, I never got to learn much about him beyond his role as dungeon Master. Strobavik is older than Corrik by far and he would be married. I like the thought of the terrifying man with tiny Elves in his arms even though I doubt they are tiny anymore. I must know. “Are they both grown, Master Strobavik?”
“Erik has just entered his seventieth year.” That’s like a teenager in Markaytian years. “But my sweet D’ayawin is just four.”
He’s smitten. I have a thousand more questions.
“Enough chit-chat. It’s time for your spanking. I see what you’re doing.”
“I promise I’m not trying to distract you. Okay maybe a tiny bit but I’m mostly curious.”
“I know all about the curiosities of brats. Remove your robe, naughty kitten.”
I hold back my grumbles as I let it slip off me, unsheathing my naked body beneath. I look good if I do say so myself. I’ve leaned out over the duration of the aforementioned journey and have acquired some lovely scarring. Corrik wants to heal it all away, but he’s forced to save his energy to heal himself if he wants us to travel to the Lady of the Lake anytime soon. I suppose he could send me to the Healing Centre, but he hasn’t.
With no further delay, Strobavik pulls me over his knees, my bare torso meets his thick, leather-clad thighs. I flush at being in such a position, even after all this time, shifting, attempting to find comfort. But there isn’t comfort to find.
“You disobeyed me, naughty kitten and naughty kittens get spanked,” he says sounding suspiciously like someone scolding a brat rather than someone practicing slave protocol.
The hotness runs through me at a reprimand like that and when his heavy hand meets my bare flesh, I cry out like a brat would. “Ow,ow!Master, thathurts!”
“It’s meant to. I don’t feel sorry for you. Running off. Nearly getting yourself killed. You’re still a human and what you did was reckless.”
