13. Siderus

The door shakes life, as if enraged. I feel myself exposed, my bare ass and cock fully visible and my body vulnerable.

Another nameless, faceless, insistent servant demanding to be noticed. They're all the same.

"My lord, you're needed in the Great Hall!"

"Leave me!" A primal shout resonates from deep within my throat. I look to Amaya, sprawled out like a painting before me, the sunlight highlighting every bead of sweat - every bump on her areolas, every drip of her arousal. I realize that I seem weak at this moment.

"I will be down shortly," I tell him, trying to be calm.

"As you wish, my lord!" he calls back.

I approach the commode and pour water into the basin. My hands fumble and the water drips with an unsteady, rattled tempo, perfectly emulating my jerky movements. In the mirror, I can see Amaya monitoring me as if probing for flaws. She has covered herself.

"You need to clean yourself and dress," I insist, washing my body. It is customary to wash yourself in the morning, but mostly, I just need something to do.

I feel her eyes watching me as I speak, picking me apart. I tell her that to be safe, she will need to be obedient, not only to me but to the others in the mansion. I make it theatrical. My voice resonates through the room. I call it her first test.

She won't look at me.

"Yes," she says, with alarming confidence. "I can be the obedient girl everyone expects outside this room."

I feel myself loosening as a weight lifts from my shoulders.

"But once we are back inside these rooms," she continues. "I will not be that same girl."

I can feel her testing my patience. Every conversation is a compromise.

"I look forward to the challenge, indeed," I tell her.

I feel myself torn. She doesn't want to be my pet? I don't want her to be my pet, either. It's a relationship of convenience. I spared her life and the life of her brother, and for what? For her to challenge me?

"I need you to hear me," I tell her, still scrubbing my body. "You're going to stay here. Do not try to leave. Do not try to break out. Do not follow me. I will be back."

"I understand," Amaya says. I can see her mind working, but she stifles it.

"My uncle and grandmother, they're not as reasonable as I am. Most of the people in this castle aren't. I brought you here as a pet. I'm trying to save you."

"Okay."

I dry off and then don my formal greeting robe. I look at the bright golden sash and remember the face of my father and his reassuring smile. This sash was the last thing he gave to me.

Across the sash and the robe, a continuous pattern of fire and leaves dance, swirling with every movement of my body. The robe drags and billows behind me.

Amaya looks impressed despite herself.

I lean in to embrace her, wrapping my arms around her smooth skin. I caress her pendulous breasts, tweaking her nipples through the thin cover of her chemise. I can feel her chest heaving. I feel the erratic rhythm of her heart. I lightly bite her neck.

And I feel her subtly reject me. It's in the way she just lets me take her. It's like showing affection to a doll. I pull back, clearing my throat and trying to ignore the stinging sensation in my chest.

I took her from her family, after all. I can't really blame her. And yet there's a part of me desperate to make up for it somehow. My need to jump when my uncle dictates has caused her so much unfortunate and undeserved pain.

I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in myself.

I move to exit before turning to address her. "Remember what I told you. Total obedience. Do not try to leave. Do not question me."

She nods. I do not inquire further.

I advance through the labyrinthian stone halls of the castle, down the sloping staircases, past monuments and statues of fire that line the walls of the hallway alongside dripping candles. Should she have tried to escape, she would have only gotten lost. I still get lost in these hallways, though I try to never admit it.

I pass a final set of armor suits and abstract candle wax sculptures. The final staircase ends.

The floor of the Great Hall is made from obsidian, and the world is inverted on its surface. The large, bright chandeliers drift from the ceiling to their mirror images on the black crystalline floors.

Across the room, sunlight bounces from the floors to the windows, casting the black and red room in a muted yellow hue. My uncle used to tell me that these floors reflected everything, even our deepest insecurities. He used to torment me with that fact.

He sits alone next to a roaring fire, its gleam illuminating every detail of his fur coat. In this vast hall, my uncle is the only body. I realize with a frown that my grandmother did not wish to attend.

As I move halfway across the threshold, the light catches and amplifies his violet eyes as he glares expectantly. I try to maintain eye contact. Despite being an elf, he has always reminded me of a great black dragon.

I find a seat beside him. It is strangely cold beneath me. At first, he does not acknowledge me.

"Good morning, Uncle," I tell him.

"I hear you've taken another pet," he says. "And a human no less." I feel my throat drop. "Don't you have enough playthings?"

My mind tries to draft the perfect response. I cannot let him know that she, a human of all things, bears any importance. She doesn't, I reassure myself – this arrangement was made simply of my own guilt. But I need him to know why she is mine.

"No matter," he interjects. "You were never one for words, were you?" I feel his eyes peering into me like burning coals. "Your grandmother and I wanted to personally congratulate you for what you did with Marquis Liaric. Beautiful work. But then your grandmother heard about your new human slave and decided she'd rather I speak in her stead."

I nod. "The gesture is appreciated. Thank you, Uncle."

His lips curl into a cruel impression of a smile.

"Now, if you're not going to talk up this new human pet, I'm afraid I'm going to have to see her for myself," he tells me. I feel a chill work its way up my spine as my muscles tense and my mouth dries up. "We're holding a celebration in your honor – in the name of Slayer. And we'd be remiss if your pet couldn't attend. It will be at our manor."

"Thank you, Uncle," I manage to say. "I will bring her down."

"Come down in an hour. I'll have a carriage waiting for all of us."

My body stands up of its own accord, and almost automatically, I begin walking back to the upstairs chamber. I wonder if there was ever any way to avoid this.

"Oh, and Siderus." I stop walking as he calls back after me. "Please don't bring your pet unleashed to the manor again. We don't want another repeat incident."

I move back through corridors, up staircases, and past sprawling libraries and suits of armor. This is my true moment of victory. I, Siderus Slayer, have cut down a rival family. The Liarics are no more. Through sheer tenacity and clever infiltration, I followed my orders and brought the Marquis to his knees.

Uncle is pleased. Lord Rafthin has been stripped of his title and made into a lowly servant elf. I should be ecstatic.

I reach my chamber and look upon Amaya's countenance. Her lush lips and brown hair shine bright with the sun, like a fire burning brilliantly against a harsh wind. Sickly. I chuckle in spite of myself.

"I have returned," I tell Amaya.

"How did it go?" she asks, striking a tone perhaps too casual for her station.

"We are going out. My uncle is very excited to meet you, and he's throwing a party."

"Lovely."

"But I'm going to have to add a couple of rules." She says nothing. "When we're out, you're not to make eye contact with anybody. That's for your own safety. And whatever they ask of you, you need to endure it. This is the only way to survive."

I can see the color draining from her face, bringing a greater-than-usual pallor. Where is the woman I was talking to a moment ago? She seems defeated. She seems scared.

Approaching her from the rear, I lift her arms up and guide the sheer chemise off of her voluptuous form. I can feel the blood pulsing to my member as I regard her firm and pronounced posterior. I feel a primal calling.

Even through the robe, I feel my engorged member pressing into her flesh, begging to penetrate her. I wish that we had met in simpler times when title did not dictate behavior, and we could copulate and raise a family of our own.

But she's a human,I think. I recoil, repulsed by my shameful thoughts.

I move away from her. I think she feels betrayed. I move over to my wardrobe and produce a sheer piece of fabric. As she hears the clanking of metal, she glances in my direction, face contorted in terror and anticipation.

I bring the fabric and the blood-red metal leash and hold them aloft. I remember my uncle's stories about the lowly humans and the illegal and unnatural pairing I almost fell victim to.

"This is what you will wear," I tell her. "Remember the rules."