...13...
TESTING HER HYPOTHESIS
She became a true prisoner to him after that night.
She was void of liberty and shackled to that terrifying and yet un-appalling beast.
She was confined to his bedroom, incarcerated at all times, for a long time, day and night.
He watched over her like a hungry hawk did with its prey.
He made sure she was fed, unfailingly, five times in a day.
She was given breakfast, lunch, nosh, dinner and after supper snacks which normally came about an hour after dinner.
He was always there to eat with her most of the time in the bedroom, only being absent when he was busy with official matters and could not avoid doing so.
Well, there was a small problem which she noticed and even pointed out to him.
But it was one which he never rectified, deliberately choosing not to do so.
It was the issue regarding her clothes.
She had no clothes to wear in his bedroom.
He kept insisting that she put on any of his shirts.
Therefore, she was constantly dressed in one of his shirts.
And she was fairly getting used to its comfiness and his scent.
There was that lovable musky yet intoxicating coco lemon redolence that unfailingly reminded her of the very first orgasm that he had ever brought her.
He barely spoke to her when he was around, busy.
But as time went on, he loosened, only speaking to her when he could no longer avoid it.
She also didn't ever feel conscious of that fact that they both slept on the same bed and shared that sacred furniture.
She wondered if it contributed to his distance for he slept hours after she had gone to bed and yet he rose before her still.
Although she was unhappy that her escape plan had failed and she would not be able to leave there, the beast's territory, she never planned to organize a new one, a seventh one, either.
She never dwelt on that, locking all things escape at the back of her skull, in her mind's archive, her brain's dungeon.
It was totally hopeless to do so.
She decided that for he somehow managed to always find her, each and every time.
Besides, she didn't want him mad at her.
She hated when he lost it for his outrage frightened her to the bones.
She would rather continue to stay there a prisoner than to face his unfathomable wrath.
If she dared to escape again, she was very sure, certes sure that she would definitely be caught.
And she will never be able to make a lam for it.
She would rather remain a prisoner there forever than to face the rowen of such a hopeless thoughtless act, ever.
She counted the days that she had been in confinement, from the morrow she had woken up with a smarting pain in her ass, sharp and acute.
It was a pain so critical it had brought lots of tears to her eyes.
Her mind went back to that moment.
She ran over it all, all that had happened after she had awoken.
She remembered it all, clearly.
When she had arisen, she had winced in pain, not daring to sit upright on the bed despite its soothing softness.
Suddenly, like a witch, his face was looming over hers.
She stared up at his standing form, startled by him and the bareness of his chest as always.
Fear had overtaken her at that moment and she didn't know when she uttered what she said next.
'Please,' she had heard herself say then, a reflex action of protection which had been prompted by the fright that he had imprinted on her the night before.
'Keep shut!' he had shunned her harshly, his words curt and detached as he had reached out and turned her over.
He had raised the white shirt that she had been wearing and had quickly made to inspect her bare buttocks.
He had done so, running his fingers over it slightly.
He was applying pressure at some point as he had stared at every mark that he had branded on her beautiful skin.
She had winced occasionally as he had carried on, especially when the poking had hurt her too much.
She had borne it all.
And just when she had thought that he would go on forever, she had felt herself being lifted and carried like a baby.
She had been very surprised, so much that she had had to gasp out loud.
She had not been expecting such gesture from him at all.
Well, despite the shock of it all, she had not forgotten to cling to him.
She had wrapped her hands around his neck, her legs around his waist and she had equally rested her head on his shoulders contentedly.
He had taken her to his bathroom and had undressed her.
She had discovered then that a bath had already been prepared for her before their arrival to the bathroom.
It had been slightly hot and mixed with mint leaves which must had been allowed to sit in the bathtub for a long time.
She had sighed softly as he lowered her into the tub of mint scented water.
She had been instantly engulfed by its soothing quality which had eased the pain in her buttocks -just a bit.
Then, he had bathed her like the day before, but this time not with any canal purpose whatsoever.
Yet, he had left her sexual system quite unbalanced, dysfunctional.
She did not shy away from him or his touch at any moment, quickly adapting to the fact that he wanted to do so.
When he was done, he had carried her naked form back into the bedroom where he had set her down on the bed, stomach down and applied the pain relieving poultice to her buttocks.
Next, he had helped her into one of his many white shirts, still without speaking a word to her.
Breakfast was served then at his command.
The meal had gone on, also wordless.
He had then excused himself to attend to other matter when the meal was over or rather when he was full.
That morning had marked the beginning of her captivity.
From then till that moment, it had been nine days altogether.
She walked to the balcony of his bedroom and stood, leaning against the gold plated iron railings with a sigh.
She looked out, watching, staring at all in her line of vision, the expanse of gazement.
Linamine.
It was his empire.
It was vast and he was emperor.
She shivered slightly as a thought popped up in her head.
Most prisoners who defiled the emperor in any empire were instantly killed.
Then, she was one lucky bitch.
But why?
Whyd' he continue to spare her despite her crimes?
Did he?
She thought, could he?
A mischievous smile curved her lips.
She couldn't believe the single notion that had crept into her head.
But it was flatout, almost unarguable.
She laughed softly then.
The emperor, the Lord of Linamine, he desired her?
Well, that would explain a many things.
It seemed like he did desire her.
She sighed softly as she turned away from the balcony and went into the bedroom.
She sat slowly on the huge round bed with its sheets of floral pastels and began to ratiocinate on the disturbing matter.
Suddenly, a counter thought rose in her mind.
Her soft smile receded as it came to her, like a bright light bulb that could not be ignored.
If she thought about it well, apart from some little facts that could mean or could not mean that he liked her, she felt like a thing that he owned.
He did not act like he liked her, didn't express any feelings whatsoever.
Or maybe he did -that referring to the little facts that she had talked about before, in subtle ways.
There was the denial of the services of a maid, also refusing anyone to touch her save him, even as far as bathing her himself.
Apart from that, there was nothing.
If she let her counter thought take over her mind, to her then he didn't desire her.
He saw her as some possession, wanted to own her.
He always called her 'Mine' and not her given name -as if she knew it.
He had called her Rose then.
But she didn't feel like the name belonged to her or neither suited her.
But why?
She wondered why she would forget her own name.
She quickly began to blame him, the beast.
It was all his fault.
He must have tampered with her head.
She had a brain that was almost a clean slate, recalling only bits and pieces of her life before now.
The only vivid memory in her mind of the beast, chasing her into flames.
She also remembered him, sparring with her, that his signature angry gaze settled on her.
Despite these, he constantly told her that she was his, making it clear that she belonged to him.
He put it to her always that he was her master, that he owned her, fully.
The thoughts made her blood run cold, sending shivers through her, down her spine.
She thought hard and hated to think that it was the latter.
But, she had always been inquisitive and her curiosity won again, causing her to dwell on it.
She knew what she would do.
She would check it out, test her hypothesis.
She must find out.
She must be sure of it.
When dusk had passed again and night had fallen, she sat at his writing table reading a book to keep herself from sleeping while awaiting him.
She had had her dinner long ago without him.
Xiera had informed her that he couldn't be there because he was delayed in an imperial meeting.
She was just beginning to nod off into slumber when the bedroom door opened slowly.
The light sound triggered her awake.
She looked up at the sound of the intrusion.
He came in, bringing with him that obdurate aura.
He walked towards the huge round bed without a glance in her direction undoing the buttons of his shirt.
Then, in one swift move, he turned towards her.
His eyes met hers in the dark, their gazes locking.
She didn't move, could not move, kept in place by that unusual gaze of his, prefer if, soft and yet hard, an amazing oxymoron.
His eyes were the colour of silver for only a moment, an illusion that she sometimes saw, especially when he gazed at her, too deeply, too torrid.
She shrugged it off instantly, too preoccupied to be bothered by it all at that ardent moment.
'You are not asleep,' he noted, not for speaking sakes, rather it was so she could explain why she was not yet asleep to him.
'I could not sleep,' was her reply to him. He lifted a brow at her.
'Why couldn't you?' he asked her, his gaze intense.
'I just could not.'
'Come here,' he told her in a commanding tone.
...OmaPhinaPhire