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laughs at my pain.

I force myself to my feet, the world going dizzy around me, and rush out of the hall. Abigor rubs his temples and groans. I don't stop when he says to stop. I'm crying so hard that I can't focus on anything else but the pain in my neck and the salty tears coating my cheeks.

I faintly remember where the harem was located, my bare feet slapping on the cold stone floors as I rush to the comfort of Michelle and Cassandra's arms. I see the big wooden door, the first one to the right of the stone staircase.

I burst into the room and into the unyielding arms of Tristan, or Drinks of Waterfall. I gasp and wipe my eyes quickly before he could see that I was crying. He sets me back on my feet before taking a good look at me. "You cry," he states.

I push past him and run straight into Michelle's arms. "Oh, my lady!" she gasps, stroking my hair softly.

"We must escape!" I cry to her and she shakes her sadly.

"There's no escaping now. I've been taken as the mistress of Drinks of Waterfall…and he won't let me out of his sight." Michelle quietly explains.

I freeze, glancing behind me. He is waiting in the doorway for her expectantly. He wears a satisfied, grin on his lips, looking me up and down. I turn back to Michelle. "And you're alright with this?"

She rolls up her sleeve to reveal a line of dark purple bruises on her smooth skin. "I have to be, my lady." I'm horrified. She rolls down her sleeve, blushing in shame.

"Who did this to you?" I hiss.

Michelle hugs me again. "I don't want you to worry about me," she whispers. "It's my job to worry about you."

I slump against her. "I hate him. Oh God, I hate him so much, Michelle. He let him choke me in front of everyone and said and did nothing to stop it." I'm sobbing now.

"Elle," a smooth bass croons.

Michelle sighs and kisses my cheeks. "He calls me," she whispers in my ear. "You are strong. Stronger than I…keep your head up always, my lady."

She pulls away from me and joins Tristan at the doorway. He places a kiss on her temple and walks her out the door, his hand placed firmly on her backside. I feel sick to my stomach. The other ladies look at me.

I recognize Evalyn as she bounces over to me. "Elizabella, right?" she asks. I nod and lower my eyes to the ground. She gasps, the sharp intake of breath startling me. "Who did that to you?"

I realize she's talking about the handprint-shaped bruises now forming on my neck. "I was choked," I explain sullenly. "Plain and simple."

Evalyn bites her lip. "Oh honey," she whispers. "That must hurt like a kariya. Was it your master that did that to you?"

I shake my head. "No, it was another. But my master said nothing in my defence."

Evalyn pulls me over to where her cot was and sat me down it. She has a wooden bowl filled with an odd violet coloured cream. She swipes some of the cream onto her two fingers and held it up to Eliza. "This will help the bruising," she tells me. I tilt my head and let her lather some of the cream on. "I use it sometimes."

I laugh humorlessly. "I'm sure it comes in handy."

Evalyn shrugs. "Not unless you're careful, respectful and obedient, not really. The barbarians don't hurt unless they need to…or unless it's a ceremony."

"Bullshit," I spit hatefully, my eyes narrowing.

She sighs and tilts my head again to get better access to the bruises. "Elizabella…who is your master?"

I almost say Abigor out of spite, but I'd rather not have him coming to me and choking me as well. "His name is Dances With Wolves," I say.

All of the harem girls gasp, stopping whatever they were doing to look right at me. Evalyn walks around in front of me to look at me in confusion. "Dances With Wolves? The king? Oh, Gods. He doesn't take whores often…and certainly not mistresses. I think only two girls have been with him in this entire room…Cassandra and Athenodora."

A frail, beautiful blonde girl steps forward and smiles bashfully. Evalyn introduces her as Athenodora. Her hair reaches her hips and her black lashes are the longest I've yet to see.

Evalyn gulps before looking back at me. "How has he treated you? Has he bed you yet?"

My face reddens. "I refused him."

Everyone gasps, including sweet little Athenodora, who looks no more than 16. "And what did he do?" she asks me. "Was he very angry at you?"

I shake my head. "No. He let me sleep."

Everyone gasps again. Athenodora covers her mouth, her blue eyes widening in shock. "That's amazing. How did you persuade him?" Another woman, Sulpicia, asks me.

My face reddens in embarrassment as I recall the memory of him doing things to me last night on his bed. "I cried, and he found out that I was a virgin."

Athenodora frowns. "Well, that didn't stop him from taking my virginity!" she pouts. Then her pretty pink lips curl up into a honey-sweet smile. "But I wouldn't have given myself up to a finer man. He was an excellent lover."

The girls come and gather around Athenodora. "Tell us about him," Evalyn gushes. "He is the most handsome man on the face of this planet. I would die if I was in his arms, even just for a moment."

I frown at all of this good talk about Abigor. He is horrid, and there's no way I'd change my mind. Sex meant nothing to me since I've never had sex before. But I sit and listen to Athenodora's stories anyway.

She blushes and flips her hair out of her eyes. "He had such a mouth on him. Ooh, it was enough to make me lose it without him even touching me at all, I swear." The harem girls squeal and fan themselves.

"I love a dirty talker," Sulpicia moans.

Athenodora continues. "He's got the longest fingers and the cleverest tongue. And oh my, his cock was simply—"

"Stop!" I cry out. "I don't want to hear any more." My face is red and my nose is scrunched up in disgust.

The blonde girl shakes her head. "You just don't understand how lucky you are, Elizabella."

I fold my arms over my chest. "If this is luck, then I'm done for."

Evalyn pops up from where she sits on the ground. "Look at me! And then look at yourself. You're wearing gold silk and jewels, and I am wearing an animal skin dress. If that is not luck, I do not know what luck is."

I'm still in denial. I walk over to one of the mirrors and inspect myself. I still refuse to believe that I am lucky. Luck to me would be having had made it out of the raid with a tangible house, parents, and my Cordell.

0o0o0o0o

I stay in the harem for the rest of the afternoon, only travelling with Evalyn for meals to bring back to the rest of the girls. Athenodora says that Abigor was looking for me secretly throughout the day. I can't avoid him forever, for my bedroom is also his.

The cream that Evalyn had given me had really helped to heal the bruises and take the pain away, but the colour and handprint are still pretty visible. It's about eight o' clock at night when I foolishly decide to take a step outside of the harem. Abigor waits for me there, a frown on his face and his eyes a storm.

I gasp in surprise, but I don't run. He grabs me by the arm and pedals me down the hallway. I don't refuse him or struggle. He thrusts me into his room, shutting the doors behind us. He spits out a streak of curses in his language, tugging at his braid impatiently.

"Fuck," he swears. "I been lookin' for you all damn day. Where you been?"

I don't answer him. Instead, I look away and turn my back to him. That doesn't fly very well with the barbarian king. A strong hand grips my shoulder and yanks me back around to face him. I bare my teeth at him.

He points an accusing finger at me. "Don't you do 'dat at me, Elizabella. When I talk to you, you best answer me!"

He tries to grab me again, but I move out of the way faster. "Don't touch me! Oh, don't you dare." I begin to cry against my will. "You watched me today be humiliated in front of your whole table! You said nothing!"

Abigor's voice raises an octave. "You disrespect him! You deserved it!"

I can't believe my ears. How did I deserve to be choked and humiliated? Is he serious? "God, he stuck his fingers inside of me against my will, and I disrespected him? That's…that's…oh!" I'm so mad that I can't find the right words to express myself. I tug at my hair roughly.

"You're a harem girl, a whore. My people don't defend our whores. That shames my title! I'm the king!" he yells.

That fuels my fire towards him. Tears stung in my eyes. "If I shame your title, why did you dress me up and haul me down to your breakfast table?" I hiss. My fingers clutch at the gold necklace around my neck. I snap it off of my neck and throw it at him. This surprises him, for he wasn't expecting me to throw the jewels at him. "Why did you try to fuck me if I'm just dirt on the bottom of your feet?" Another strip of gold lace comes off. "I didn't want to be here!"

His face crumbles as he walks forwards. I pound him relentlessly with my fists. He wrestles me back, stopping my nails from clawing at my skin. "Elizabella," he whispers. "Stop it. You're hurtin' yourself."

I sob silently, resting my head against his chest. He's warm, and his arms comfort me. But I realize who he is, and I push him, my palms hitting him hard in the chest. He stumbles back in shock. "Don't touch me," I say again. "I'm not your whore."

Abigor grits his teeth. "The one who choked you was my brother."

I turn away from him, my arms folded and my head bent. Tears run silently down my cheeks. I wonder if he can see the bruises on my neck.

"I could not stop him," he whispers. "Our people, for centuries, have believed that if you start a fight with your own brother, a long sword fight must begin. And long sword fights usually result in death. And my brother has wanted my throne for years."

I don't answer him. I wouldn't care if he died. He sits down in the big chair near the fireplace and stares into the burning logs. I walk slowly away into the corner and sit on Abigor's bed.

He lifts his goblet of wine to his lips. "Are you hurt badly?" he asks me. I do not answer him. He sighs. "Come here."

His voice is so powerful and superior that I find myself subconsciously moving to sit by him. He looks down at me with blazing, heated eyes. His long, heated fingers brush my hair out of the way to reveal the handprint-shaped bruises imprinted on my skin.

He looks away in disgust at what his brother did to me. "Should heal quick," he mumbles. The muscles in his jaw tense as I look at him. "Elizabella," he begins. "I shall not…make you bed me tonight."

My heart flutters. He gets up from where he sits in his chair and gulps the rest of the wine down his throat. He slips off his pants, leaving only his breechcloth. His legs are defined and muscular; he's visually a work of art.

"But," he interjects. "You will bed me tomorrow. Men have appetites that are meant to be fulfilled. Rumor has it, Elizabella, that 'de harem has told you of my talents, hmm?"

I blush, and my mind forgets
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