I stand and sit on the edge of the mattress. His large foot is next to my hip, and I look down at the dirty appendage that has walked across two different terrains over the last four days. His toes are hairy, and the skin is thick and cracked. I close my eyes and curl myself into the tightest ball possible while lying down.
The lights are turned off with the clap of my master’s hands. He doesn’t say anything else, so I hug my hands to my chest, and he starts to snore. Still no touching.
I let out my first proper breath in a small eternity, only for the pressure in my bladder alerts me.Por el amor de los dioses.2Moving could wake him, and he hasn’t been out long enough to sleep off the alcohol. He’d be furious.
Holding my urges is a learned skill, but even I have my limits. When the sensation only gets more insistent, I know I can’t wait until he wakes.
Taking deep breaths, I listen to the snores and wait an adequate amount of time before I slide off the bed and look for a chamber pot. When one isn’t immediately visible, panic sets in.
I press my legs together, still crouching, and turn around. There’s a door by the entrance.
It has to be there.
I straighten and walk across the room on the balls of my feet. Sweat gathers on my back, armpits, and palms, and the dress carries my distinct smell. It was already getting too warm in this room.
Desperate, I put my hand on the doorknob and turn slowly, trying not to make a sound. It takes forever because I keep pausing, making sure that my master continues to snore through his drunken afternoon nap.
So far, so good.
When the handle is turned all the way, I open the heavy, round door. My mistake becomes apparent the second a slice of gentle, bluish light pours out from the inside, landing right on Prince Keksej’s face.
I let go of the handle as if it had burned me.The door slams shut, and I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. I press my back against the door, hoping the prince won’t wake.
But it’s too late. I hear stirring from the bed and the sound of footsteps on the fur-covered floor. There’s nowhere to hide, so I stand up straight and turn around to face his naked form.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice thick and syrupy. “I told you to sleep.”
I bite my lips together and clench my legs while ignoring the burning in my bladder.
“Are you trying to escape again?” he demands, still rip-roaring drunk. “I thought you learned your lesson this morning.?”
I shrink back, too exposed in this damned gown. “Or, perhaps, you liked the Enduar’s face just as much as he liked yours." His words only serve to enrage him more. “Is that why you slink away while I sleep, little slut?”
I shake. The First Prince reaches over to his things and picks up his whip. My body is already coiling tight, anticipating the agony that will come soon.
"If you think the bite of my whip is rough, you have no idea what the sensation of Enduar teeth tearing your flesh apart is like.”
I am trembling so hard, unsure whether he will beat or rape me. I back towards the door, ready to run.
“Dammit. Answer, Estela!”
I flinch so hard that a tear is jerked down my cheek. “I needed the chamber pot.”
My master starts laughing. The sound is rough and grates against me while he prepares the whip in his hand, wrapping part of it firmly around his forearm to give him better control.
“We’ll see about that. Turn around,” he demands.
I bunch my fists in the dress. My resolve to be obedient didn’t intend his drunk musings. He’s half-mad, and I can’t stay here. “I won’t run away again—let me relieve myself,” I beg.
He picks up his bag off the table and hits me across the face. I fall to the ground in a heap and don’t have time to react before he draws back the whip and strikes me.
The pain sears through me, and I can barely make out the sound of the pop through my tears when it hits my skin.
I try to contain my screams, but it’s impossible. They are torn from me instantly, filling both my mind and ears. I am powerless against the strength of a giant, and no one will come to help me.
Somewhere in the distance, a voice roars in time with my own. The ground beneath our feet begins to shake, and cracks appear in the walls around us. The floating lights flicker and fade.
Prince Keksej staggers away from me, his eyes wide as he stares at the destruction around us. I don’t know if I should stay still or run when the whipping stops. My master is breathing heavily, his face an angry red and his nose wrinkled while he stares at the room around us. The shaking stops almost as soon as it had begun, and he pushes himself off the wall, wiping his mouth. “The piss makes you smell even worse.”