[Brat 01] - Princess Brat

by Sharon Green

  Shaking his head didn’t help to make matters easier to understand, and when he reached his chair and sat again he leaned forward to clasp his hands as his forearms rested on his thighs. He’d let all his hurt and anger come out when he’d spanked the girl, but was it possible he’d also really hurt her? That hadn’t been his intention, but what if he’d done it anyway? To be brutally honest about it all, it wasn’t her fault if she didn’t feel for him what he felt for her. It also wasn’t fair to punish her for that lack, as if she were deliberately luring him on and then pushing him away. She’d never given any indication that she wanted him when she wasn’t forced to it by the device, so what right did he have to feel disappointed?

  The answer to that last question was too obvious to state, but he did it anyway. He had no right to be disappointed at her lack of interest, and he’d been the one who’d said he wanted to make their outing fun. He’d been so deeply concerned over the possibility that she’d never had any fun, and then when she’d finally found some he’d punished her for it. Looked at objectively he’d been a ridiculous sight, but he hadn’t been able to look at it objectively. He still couldn’t, but that didn’t keep him from the disturbing suspicion that he’d been much too harsh with the girl.

  “So what am I supposed to do about it now?” he whispered, wishing he could ask that of his father. That and a lot of other questions besides, just as he’d done when he was still a boy. But he was a man now and a successful conqueror, and as such was supposed to have all the answers he needed without asking anyone else. It would be nice if things really worked that way

  Derand sat deep in thought for quite some time, but nothing in the way of enlightenment came. At this point apologizing would be useless, so there was no sense in trying it. What he could try was still beyond him, but maybe he’d think of something when the girl woke up. They still had to spend quite a lot of time together, not to mention cooperate to find Gardal. That meant there was still a chance things could change between them, so there was no sense in giving up hope just yet.

  That made Derand feel the least bit better, and so did the fact that the next time he checked on the girl, she was awake. She’d also stopped crying, which was positively encouraging.

  “You can get up and dress whenever you like,” he said to her, knowing she heard him even though she made no effort to look at him where he stood. “And our lunch was brought some time ago, so you can come out and eat it.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not very hungry,” she answered, unmoving where she lay with her head on a pillow. “If you don’t mind, I’ll save eating for later.”

  “No I don’t mind ” he responded lamely, hating the “dead” sound to her voice but helpless to change it.

  “Come out whenever you like.”

  Derand retreated for the second time, even more disturbed than he’d been. If she’d been angry or offended he could have dealt with it, but what was he supposed to do against that total lack of what could only be called hope? Surrender was something he’d gotten well used to seeing, but total surrender was more horrible than he’d ever imagined. The one thing he could do to bring her out of it was talk about her brother’s rescue, but that would have to wait until later. And, if by some chance even that didn’t work, he’d have to promise her freedom from the marriage.

  He’d be the one without hope then, but better that than sitting back and watching her waste away to nothing

  Elissia rearranged her clothes once the man was gone, but then she lay down again to return to the silent battle she’d been waging. Her dreams had been filled with tearful scenes of begging and pleading with him not to let her go, but he hadn’t even heard her. He’d stood watching something she couldn’t see, a faint amusement curling his lips, both her presence and existence erased from his awareness. She’d been desolate then, but there hadn’t been anything she could do to change his mind.

  And there still wasn’t. When he’d come into the room he’d sounded as if he’d returned to being “kind,” but that was part of his nature and meant nothing. Having her around had already proven painful for him, and if she didn’t take herself firmly in hand it would do so again. Her only hope of not trampling all over his feelings a second time was to get her own feelings under control, and that was the battle she’d been fighting. That dream had been a sign from the gods telling her not to waste her time wishing for the impossible. All she could do to thank the man for his kindness was let him do as he pleased with her now, and then get quickly out of his way once Gardal was safe.

  It took until suppertime before she felt she could look at the man without breaking down into tears, but she’d found a new determination to repay him for the attention he’d given her. She’d been afraid for years that he would turn out to be someone she could really like, most especially since he was such good friends with Gardal. That was why she’d avoided him so completely the various times he’d come to the palace, using the claim that he was too much of a “savage” to hide behind.

  But avoiding him entirely had proven impossible, and now she was faced with what she’d feared all along: loving a man who wanted little or nothing to do with her. The fact that her loving him wasn’t his fault had let her find the strength to do what was necessary, along with the equally obvious fact that it would hardly be for long. Another few days and then she could find a way to end all pain forever.

  His knock on the door before he entered was not surprising in the least, but the gentleness of his tone became more painful than the punishments he gave.

  “Our meal has been delivered, and it’s a pleasant surprise,” he said, coming no more than a single step into the room. “Instead of catching and cooking it, my men bought it from the inn nearby. Come and try it and see for yourself.”

  Elissia still had nothing of an appetite, but she couldn’t afford to forget why they were there in the first place. She’d certainly need her strength in the coming days, and eating properly was the only way to keep it up. So she left the bed and followed him back to the front room, joining him where he stood at the table.

  “We’ve got a feast,” the man said, gesturing toward the many dishes standing on the table. “There are salads, and fried chicken, and mashed potatoes, and corn, and cherry cobbler for dessert. You also have your choice of tea or a fairly decent wine, so let’s dig in.”

  “Of course,” Elissia said, finding it much easier to do what she had to if she didn’t look directly at the man. Sitting down, even on the cushion, was still painful, but she did it without hesitation and without showing what she felt. Then she began to help herself to the food, but not to the wine. If she started to drink anything alcoholic, she had the feeling she’d never stop.

  The meal was very tasty, but there was still a limit to what she could stuff down her throat. When she finally reached it she sat back from her plate to find that the man had finished before her. He now studied her in silence, but she already knew what had to be done.

  “I’ve been a very bad girl,” she said without hesitation, but also without looking at him. “For that reason I’d like to ask you to spank me.”

  What she’d said wasn’t really a lie, but the man reacted in a way she hadn’t expected.

  “I’ve changed my mind about that,” he said, the kindness in his tone cutting her to pieces. “You didn’t really ask for the spanking you got, but you’ve asked now so we can let the last one take the place of – ”

  “No,” she interrupted harshly, beginning to hate even the word “kindness.” “We made a deal, and if I expect you to stick to it, I have to do the same. I asked for a spanking, and I expect to get it.”

  “All right, then come over here,” he said after a very long hesitation. But the words themselves hadn’t been hesitant, so she rose and walked over to him. It was ridiculous to think that she’d reached the point of preferring his punishments to his kindnesses, but that was exactly the way she felt. His punishments weren’t nearly as painful as the other

  He raised
her tunic and took her trousers and drawers down slowly, then put her across his knees. She closed her eyes against what was coming, hoping to keep silent no matter how much it hurt. The first swat did more than sting, and the second and third were worse. She whimpered deep in her throat with the next three strokes, and bit her lip with the following three. He wasn’t just pretending to spank her, he was actually doing it, just as she’d demanded. Once again he was treating her fairly rather than patronizing her, and that thought rather than the punishment brought hot tears to her eyes.

  She didn’t know that the final three swats really were the final ones until it happened. Another minute and she would have been howling, but suddenly she was being lifted to her feet and helped to replace her clothing. But once again he was silent, so once again it was up to her.

  “Now now I ask to do my wifely duty,” she whispered, wiping furtively at the tears to get rid of them before he really noticed. “As soon as you’re ready, of course.”

  “Of course,” he echoed, his voice oddly empty. “Why don’t you wait for me in bed.”

  She nodded to acknowledge his instructions, then went back to the bedchamber. Her seat was hot and throbbing with the short but effective punishment he’d given, and she had to fight hard not to limp. But the thought of waiting for him in bed inflamed her more, since she wasn’t likely to have him many times again. She meant to remember and treasure his touch for as long as life remained to her, and even looked forward to his presence on the other side of the bed.

  She lay waiting for him for a very long time before she finally had to admit that he wasn’t coming. He was being as kind as possible to her, but kindness, it seemed, also had its limits. He obviously no longer wanted to touch her even as a passing amusement, which was perfectly understandable. But only to her conscious mind, which her following dreams more than proved. He wanted nothing more to do with her, and she was helpless to change that

  Derand waited until the bedchamber door closed behind the girl, and then he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. Women were more than fortunate in that they were allowed to cry, while men had to be strong and forego the sometimes necessary release. It had killed him to see the girl stick so scrupulously and honorably to the deal they’d made, refusing to back down even when it had been more than clear that she still ached from the last spanking. He hadn’t been able to insult her by refusing to do his own part, but as for the rest of it

  “I want to make love to her so badly I may break,” he whispered to the empty silence all around. “But how can I touch her when I know she’s only keeping up her end of the bargain? I want her to want my lovemaking, not simply accept it because she’s given her word. But she doesn’t want it, and I’ve lost the stomach for taking what isn’t freely given. I’d rather do without.”

  Which was easy enough to say, but not quite as easily accomplished. He sat wishing things were otherwise for a very long time, so long that when he went into the bedchamber he found the girl asleep. Nothing else had changed, of course, not even his raging desire, but at least he’d have one thing: the girl who used to be Seea sleeping on the other side of the bed. It was little enough to ask of her, since he’d never again be asking anything else.

  Chapter 7

  copyright 1999, 2002 by Sharon Green

  Elissia awoke early the next morning, so early that it wasn’t quite light out yet. At first she thought that the man hadn’t come to bed at all, but the other side of the bed was more rumpled than it had been. So he’d been to bed and was now up again, hopefully for a good reason. If his men had finally gotten back, they’d have some idea of what lay ahead of them. If they hadn’t gotten back, she and the man could very well find themselves riding into the waiting arms of Waysten’s men. But they still had to go, and hopefully prove themselves to be more capable than anything Waysten decided to put in their way.

  Sitting up showed Elissia that her bottom was still tender, but it was nothing she couldn’t deal with. So she sat for a moment with her face in her hands, trying to decide if the idea that had come to her when she woke had any merit to it. That man and his kindness He hadn’t been happy last night, and for a change the fault was all hers. He so obviously pitied her that she almost couldn’t stand it, and apparently he was in the same position. She had to do something to get rid of that pity, if for no other reason than to take the load off his back.

  So the idea had come that she could go back to treating him the way she had when this whole mess had first started. That would certainly get rid of the pity, and might even make him add to the memories she already had of him. Something like that would be worth any price to her, but she knew she’d be wise not counting on it happening. That way if it didn’t, the disappointment would be less than crippling.

  “But not much less,” she muttered as she got out of bed and went over to her clothes. The more time that passed, the more she wanted that man. She had no idea what he’d done to her to make her feel that way, but as long as she did she might as well see what could be done to take care of it. After all, he was the one who had started the whole thing

  After dressing she lit a lamp, then washed as best she could in the room’s basin. It almost felt as though it were winter, when people bathed as infrequently as they could get away with. It was odd to do the same during nice weather, especially with that pretty stream so close. It would have been nice to go back to it one more time, but not seeing it again would be a small loss compared to the rest.

  Elissia quickly pushed those thoughts away as she dried herself, then she went toward the front room. Her hair needed brushing really badly, something she could see to once she found out who the man was talking to. She’d noticed the sound of soft voices, so there was every hope that his men really had come back.

  And it proved to be so. She opened the door to find two strangers sitting at the table, and when they saw her they got to their feet.

  “Good, you’re already awake,” the man said as he also stood. “We now have everything we need to continue on, including a description of what’s going on in the city. If you’ll join us, I’ll tell you what I’ve learned so far.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I get my hairbrush,” Elissia said with a nod, walking toward her saddlebags.

  “To save time, why don’t you start telling me about it right now.”

  “All right,” he said agreeably as she bent to the saddlebags. “Here’s the situation: Gardal is definitely not being kept on a farm. A group of my people called on the farmers one at a time, and didn’t leave again until they were convinced they’d learned everything the people on the farm knew. One or two of the farmers were frightened into claiming they knew something they really didn’t, but my people checked carefully and discovered the lies for what they were. We now know for certain that we have to go into the city.”

  “Well, we assumed that that would be the case,” Elissia said as she brought the hairbrush to the table with her. “What about the city itself? Are there extra patrols, official or unofficial? Are there too many loungers on main street corners? Are the gate guards checking everyone and everything coming in very carefully, or have they gone back to being their usual sloppy selves?”

  “The gate guards are pretending to be sloppy, but they aren’t really,” one of the two men said as they all sat down again. Elissia had claimed the fourth chair at the table, but unfortunately it wasn’t the one with the cushion. “They pass the people they recognize without too much fuss, but strangers are looked at long and hard behind lazy excuses of checking for contraband. They don’t say what sort of contraband they’re looking for even if someone asks, but I’m willing to bet it’s black leather and armor they most want to find.”

  That comment made Elissia realize that the two men were dressed in ordinary clothing, nothing like what the High King’s bodyguard usually wore. It was comforting to realize that the people around her weren’t complete children when it came to playing a role, and then the second man took his turn
reporting.

  “There are extra guard patrols out, supposedly looking for information about whoever kidnapped an important visitor to the city,” he said as he scratched at his cheek. “As strangers we were stopped and questioned, but since we hadn’t heard about any kidnapping and immediately asked for details we were sent on our way. Asking around let us find out that no one who lives and works in the city is being bothered, but the search patrols are still acting as if they’re doing a thorough job.”

  “‘Acting’ is the right word,” Elissia said with a sound of scorn, struggling to get the knots out of her hair with the least amount of pain. “So did you notice anything suspicious that no one in the area would talk about?”

  “Actually, we did,” the second man admitted after exchanging a glance with the first. “It was in a fairly busy part of the city, with a lot of people moving around the streets. Some of those people were supposed to look like lazy louts just standing around, but I’ve never seen louts who were so careful to examine anyone who came by. If we weren’t given strict orders not to try anything on our own under any circumstances, we would have had a look inside the building the louts were lounging in front of.”

  “And then you would have been in Waysten’s hands,” the man said to him after exchanging his own glance with Elissia. And that was when the confusion in her thoughts told her that she had to think of something else to call “the man.” He wasn’t the only man around any longer, so she’d have to think of something fast. Then it came to her that the best thing she could do was think of him as “the savage” again. It would match the way she planned to act with him

  “We’re not that clumsy at getting into places unseen,” the first man protested uncomfortably. “If we’d had a look in that building, we could either have eliminated it or known for certain where Prince Gardal is being held.”