by Ann Bakshis
“That’s better,” he says, his heart pounding so hard I can feel it against my back as he leans into me. “Now, let’s have something sweet to eat before we retire for the night.”
He lowers me down onto one of the pillows, takes a tray of fruit, and begins feeding it to me. It feels uncomfortable and I cringe at every enjoyable sound Lycus makes as he partakes in the food. He pours some wine and we share from the same glass, though I think he plies me with more of it than he drinks himself. My head begins to feel fuzzy and I’m suddenly very tired. Lycus sets everything aside, turns off the oil lamp that lights the space, and covers me with a blanket. I start to relax a bit, but then I feel him slide in next to me, his naked body pressed firmly against the thin silk that divides us, and I feel every inch of him pulsing with anticipation.
“Oh, how I long for tomorrow,” he says, nuzzling my neck as he fondles my breasts, then lifts up the negligee for his fingers to briefly slip inside me.
I try not to make a sound as I wish for death.
The camp is packed up rather quickly the following morning. Lycus has another gown for me to wear, one similar to the one I wore to the ball, only in dark green instead of blue. He has me ride with him in the carriage as we make our way towards Geron. From the way Lycus is discussing things with his Vagter as they ride beside us, it sounds like we’ll be taking the direct route to Longemere, which we’ll reach in only a matter of hours. As I sit beside him plotting his death and my escape, he rambles on about the life he’s planning for us to have together.
The sun is straight above us when we reach a village filled with dilapidated structures, muddy streets, and disheveled people in torn, dirty clothes. The odor being emitted by everything is overwhelming, but I can’t move my hands to cover my nose because Lycus has them gripped tightly in his. We pass one structure where barely dressed women are dangling out of open windows on the second-story calling out to men who hurry by, including Lycus as it’s obvious they recognize the carriage.
“Don’t worry, my love. I have no intention on indulging in that sinful life now that I have you,” he says, kissing my cheek as he ignores their catcalls.
“What is this place?” I ask as we reach the outskirts and begin heading north.
“The rancid section of the village of Longemere,” he answers. “You’ll get used to it, but you’ll never have to worry about wandering into this part of town. I’ll make sure you stay on the northern side of the castle where my loyalists live.”
A few minutes later we come across a tall, black iron fence that looks to go on for several meters in both directions before cutting back through a mass of trees. A single guard is stationed by the gate and unlocks it to allow us entry.
“I suggest we change transportation,” one of the guards says, poking his head in through the opening in the door beside me. “It’ll make it easier to come upon the castle from the rear.”
“Good thinking,” Lycus says. “Plus, I need to make a visit to the clergyman in the town, so I need you to take Honora up to the castle for me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The guard I was with yesterday practically pulls me from the carriage and onto his horse where I’m forced to sit in front of him so he can keep an eye on me. The first row of guards and the carriage retreat out the gate while the last row stay with us for the moment.
“You three head back to the stables. I’ll take her to the castle,” my guard says.
The men guide their horses to the left and down a lane before vanishing into thick trees, while my guard takes us to the right. We trot down the path as it bends several times, obscuring the castle from my view, though I sense it looming in the distance. When it comes into sight I shiver at the prospect.
Dark gray bricks comprise the massive structure with three towers all clustered into one corner at varying heights. The castle itself rises three stories, but that’s not including the lower portion that’s exposed along the back of the building. As we approach it from the side, the landscaping sweeps up to hide the bottom level from the view of anyone coming in through the front. A wide patio expands outward over the additional floor and wraps around to the front, just like the castle in Latrest. There’s a lone door for the lower level that’s small in comparison to the larger ones that look out onto the estate from the story above.
My guard stops his horse by the door, helps me off the saddle, and pushes me inside what looks to be a mudroom filled with winter coats that hang from pegs along one wall, and scuffed leather boots resting just below. Even though it’s summer, I’m sure these are kept in here year-round. I’m then dragged through another door into a kitchen where women are tending to meals for the afternoon. They stare at me as I’m rushed away and up the stairs that sit in the far corner of the room. We cross in front of a solar and through the foyer towards a winding staircase. When we reach the second floor, I’m taken to a room at the end of the hall and tossed inside.
“There’ll be someone at every exit, visible and hidden, so don’t even think of trying to escape,” the guard says. “You may wander the castle, but if you do, make sure one of my men sees you at all times so we don’t have to go searching for you later.”
He slams the door but doesn’t lock it. I begin scouring the room, looking for anything I can use as a weapon, but the only things here are women’s clothes tucked into a hand-carved dresser. I move over to the nightstands on either side of the canopy bed, but they’re empty. Not even a match to light the oil lamps that line the walls. A dust-covered seating arrangement rests on the far side of the room and a door stands ajar beside it. I cautiously approach, then peek my head in before fully opening it.
A handsome lavatory takes up the room with a claw-footed tub resting in the center. The vanity to the right is laden with a variety of perfume bottles, dull jewelry, and lots of dust and cobwebs. I look around the rest of the room and find everything in here is in the same state of neglect, so I begin to wonder who once occupied this room. Lycus’ mother perhaps, given the clothing. If so, then where is she? I find it hard to believe that Lycus could be the only royal living in this castle, given the number of guards and staff I saw on my way up.
I return to the bedchamber door, crack it open, and glance down the hallway. There’s a guard by the stairs and another at a peculiar door only a few feet to my left, but on the opposite side of the hallway. I close the bedchamber door as I enter the hallway and make my way to the door on the left. The guard doesn’t stop me when I open it, but it’s too dark to see anything, so I go searching other rooms on the floor, locating a candle and some matches. Once the candle is lit in its brass holder, I return to the peculiar door, open it, and notice a series of staircases, three to be exact, reaching to different heights. I take the one in the middle, the tallest, and begin my ascent.
The stairs are narrow, and some risers aren’t level, which makes the climb perilous and slow. At the top is an attic-like space filled with what appear to be discarded furnishings, old silverware, broken china, rusted suits of armor, and several paintings, but nothing that can be used as a weapon. The knives and forks for the silverware are too dull, the pieces of broken china are too small, and the suit of armor is missing its longsword, shield, and helmet.
I turn my attention to the paintings and one particular portrait catches my attention, or at least what I can see of it. I hold the candle in my left hand while I use my right to push aside a blanket that’s been draped over the tarnished frame. The image before me is of a young man with kind brown eyes standing beside an elegant lady. I examine the portrait then freeze when I spot something around the young man’s neck that causes me to panic.
A silver chain with a medallion of a griffin with large wings, giant paws, sharp claws, and ruby eyes dangles at his chest. I kneel to look at the name listed on the dull brass plate at the bottom of the frame.
“David,” I say out loud.
I drop the candle as I stand, which extinguishes the flame. My hands shake as I search
for it in the darkness, then relight it with an extra match I placed into my corset. I retreat down the stairs as quickly as possible, nearly falling a few times. The guard gives me a quizzical look as I slam the door shut behind me. I begin to head back to the room where I was deposited, but change my mind and go down the winding staircase to exploring and hoping I find answers to the portrait in the attic, as well as anything else that might help me escape from this nightmare.
I search almost the entire first floor without having yet located another picture of David. I do find a trophy room loaded with antique armaments, but that room is heavily guarded so there’s no way I can pilfer anything from there without being noticed. When I enter the library at the end of the hall, I find a small painting of David hanging lopsided by the windows that overlook the back of the grounds. He’s a little younger in this picture, but it’s definitely the same person, and he’s wearing the medallion. I set my candle down on a neighboring table, so I can get a closer look.
“That’s Lycus’ father,” an older woman says behind me, scaring me. “Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to make you jump.”
I’m too much in shock to speak.
“It’s a shame the king never got to know his father before the man’s untimely death,” the woman says as she straightens the picture.
“David’s dead?” I manage to mutter.
“Seventeen years now,” she replies. “It’s so tragic too. Lycus was only a few weeks old, if I remember correctly, when David was murdered in his bed by an intruder. It devastated King Gregor to lose his son. The man was inconsolable for weeks.”
“What about Lycus’ mother? Where is she?”
“I’m afraid she couldn’t handle raising Lycus by herself, so she committed suicide,” the woman answers, sounding sad. “This family has had nothing but misfortune for the longest time.”
“What’s that around David’s neck?” I ask, pointing to the medallion.
“Oh, that’s the mark of a royal,” she says, cheering up. “Each kingdom has one set and they’re bestowed upon the king and queen, then passed down to whomever is destined to rule next.”
“And Geron has these?”
“Yes, child. Aren’t you listening?” she asks as if scolding me. “King Lycus wears one all the time.”
“And the other?”
“I’m sure he has it and is waiting to present it to his queen when he finds one,” she answers. “Come with me, you look like you need to eat.”
I follow her out of the room and towards the other end of the castle where the dining room sits. She has a couple trays of food already laid out for me. Even though I have no appetite because of the revelation that’s rolling in my head, I do need food, as it’s been a while since I ate anything of substance. The fruit Lycus gave me wasn’t very filling and I didn’t consume a lot of it. I sit by the head of the table and slowly nibble on the nourishment. As I eat, I go over whether or not I want my suspicions to be true.
I have a Geron medallion in my possession, an item only given to those of royal heritage. According to the servant, Lycus has one as well, which would make sense since he’s the king. My father’s name is David as is Lycus’, which can’t be a coincidence. My mother had to flee for my safety, but I wasn’t even born yet. I’d bet anything that she had to leave because she was carrying me and the reason David never came back for her was because he was dead. So, if I think this through correctly—Lycus and I are brother and sister, though half-siblings.
And he wants me… me… as a… wife? Does he even know how we’re connected? Would he even care?
I grow sickened by the idea and shove my plate away, then run from the room and up to the bedchamber, slamming the door behind me. I throw myself down onto the bed and cry, which only aggravates the headache I now have developing. I’m not sure how much time has passed when there’s a knock on the door, which causes me to stop. The person doesn’t wait for a response before opening the door. It’s a mouse of a woman standing in the doorway looking very timid.
“Your presence is being requested by the head maid,” the woman says softly. “She’s waiting for you in the master’s bedchamber.”
“I’m fine right here,” I say, my voice quivering with emotion.
“I knew you’d be difficult,” the guard from earlier says as he forces his way past.
He grabs my arms, pins them behind my back, and forces me to a lavish room down the hall. It clearly belongs to Lycus as it’s decorated in profane pictures of men and women together in what can only be described as disturbing sexual acts, gold and marble statues, pelts from creatures I’m sure are now extinct, and a lush bed with thick crimson curtains draped around the canopy. The guard drags me into a lavatory along the side of the room, which is just as perversely decorated. He turns and shuts the door behind him as he leaves while the woman I met earlier practically rips the dress from my body before forcing me into a tub where she pours tepid water over my head and scrubs me almost raw.
“I’m perfectly capable of bathing myself!” I holler.
“Not tonight,” she says. “You must be pristine for the king.”
Once I’m clean, she dabs oil on my breasts and legs, then wraps a robe around me, and makes me sit in front of a vanity where she works out the knots in my hair.
“Now you’re presentable,” she says, then helps me to my feet and out into the bedchamber. “You stay here until the master comes home.”
She closes the door, locking it behind her and leaving me in just a robe. I go digging through dresser drawers and a wardrobe only to find all are devoid of clothing. There’s no way he wouldn’t keep his personal belongings in this room. They had to have been purposely removed so I’d have nothing to cover myself up with other than the robe. I go to one of the windows next to the bed and pull back the heavy drapes. Stars shine brightly overhead as pale light from a town below illuminates the land. I hadn’t realized that much time had passed, which means Lycus could be walking through that door any second.
“Hello, my love,” he says as I catch him in the reflection of the glass standing only inches behind me.
“How’d you get in?” I ask, spinning around to face him. “I didn’t hear the door unlock or even open.”
“There are other ways to traverse the castle besides the known stairs and hallways,” he says, caressing my face. “You smell wonderful.”
“What do you want with me?”
“To make you my partner in life,” he says, taking my hand and escorting me over to the bed. “I need you, Honora, and I know you need me. We were destined for this.”
An elderly clergyman meanders into the room with several guards and the head maid, all coming through the door that is now unlocked, but that’s not how Lycus entered. He holds my hands tightly against his chest to keep me from squirming while the old man recites chapter and verse about joining us in holy matrimony. I shriek as I try to fight for my freedom, but the guard places a gag around my mouth as Lycus holds onto me tighter. The head maid hands Lycus a diamond encrusted ring, which he slips on my finger. The guard forces me to place a large gold band on Lycus’, and in an instant my life ends as I become Lycus’ wife. Those in the room erupt in cheers, but it doesn’t sound genuine. The moment everyone leaves the room, the door is locked, and Lycus tries to lower me onto the bed when I knee him in the stomach, causing him to double over.
“I want nothing to do with you,” I say, seething since the gag has been removed.
He shoves me down and presses his body against mine. “That was a mistake,” he says shaking with rage.
His hands find their way under the robe as his mouth nuzzles my neck. I try to push him off, but it proves difficult given his height advantage. He slaps me across the face with such force that it stuns me. He stands, disrobes, then pulls the robe off my trembling body. As my eyes refocus, I catch the Geron medallion dangling around his neck.
“Don’t do this!” I scream as he grabs my wrists and forces them above my head.
/> “But I want to,” he whispers as his knees spread my legs apart and he slips inside. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”
“Don’t,” I whimper, tears racing down my cheeks.
“I’ll never want anyone else after tonight, my love,” he says as he continues to defile me.
“Stop,” I groan.
His mouth covers mine and he forces my lips apart with his tongue. I’m disgusted by his touch.
“Can I tell you something?” he moans, smiling at the sensations he’s generating. “I know who you are, Honora. I have for a long time.”
My heart quickens, but not from the sex. “If you do, then stop… please,” I plead.
“It’s even more of a reason why I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says, adjusting our position so we’re closer to the headboard. “None of the others could satisfy me like I know you can. I couldn’t wait any longer. I ache for you, Honora.”
My throat closes up as my emotions become overwhelming. I can’t mentally process what’s happening to me, and I’m not sure I even want to.
“Oh, Honora,” Lycus moans in my ear. “Want to experience something amazing?”
He releases my hands and places his around my throat, squeezing ever so slightly at first, then harder. I begin to panic, so I claw at him, but all it does is cause him to tighten his grip. Spots form in my vision and breathing becomes difficult.
How could my father have produced such a monster? Lycus would never have turned out this way if David had been around. What did Gregor teach his grandson that made him become like this?
