What Will He Do

Dante (Assassin) POV

The king placed the girl, wrapped in a towel, on his bed. She didn’t move, but exhausted pants and whimpers are coming from her trembling mouth.

I don’t know why I’m so interested in this girl. I’m an assassin. I kill when I’m paid too. Occasionally I’ll collect bounties, like I did for her, but my specialty is in taking lives, which is why I’m at the top of the Assassin’s Gild.

As a rare Jibson, a creature who walks the path between life and death, being an assassin comes naturally. Nearly all Jibsons have occupations related to death because we’re comfortable with it, so I have never had a problem taking lives. I am not soft hearted and yet, looking at the girl on the bed, I feel guilt.

Of course if I hadn’t brought her to the king, someone else would have. Her fate was sealed the moment she put on the stone. Now she belonged to the king, her life was his to do with as he pleased.

Even if I wanted to take her away, there’s nothing I can do. The magic binding her to the king is strong and only the king can break it.

Before I decide to do something stupid, like kill the king, I make my way to the window and leave.

King Thassus POV

After placing the girl on the bed, I return to the bath and wash myself. When I get out, I grab a silk robe and poor a glass of wine from my bar.

What am I going to do with this girl? She’d been in my hands for only a short time and her condition is already this bad. Those burns will leave scars if not treated.

Summoning staff, I request they bring a healer and a set of slave silks.

“S-Slave silks, your majesty?” The startled woman asks.

“Yes, any problem?” I give her a cold stare as I’m in no mood to repeat myself.

“There haven’t been any, um, need for slave silks. I don’t believe we have them, your majesty.” I realize the woman is trying to tell me that there are no slave silks because those types of slaves are illegal. They have been since my father took over the throne and banned those types of slaves.

“I’m sure you can find something. If not, have them made, with haste.” I demand.

“Yes, your majesty.” She bows respectfully and leaves. Moments later the royal healer arrives. I gesture towards the girl and the old man goes to the bed.

It annoys me when I see him place his hands on her. It must be done in order to preform the healing magic but I can’t help grinning my teeth.

I see a faint light around the two and the girl’s breathing gradually slows, becoming normal for someone sleeping.

“Your majesty, she is not in danger. I was able to heal the burns on her skin, but I’m afraid that there will always be faint scarring. She has internal injuries as well. If this continues to happen, the stone will kill her.” The old healer respectfully folds his hands and dips his head while speaking but I’ve known the man long enough to pick up on his disapproval.

“You may go now.” I dismiss him, not wanting to deal with his judgement.

Standing over her, I see the scars the stone left behind. Surprisingly, rather than an ugly line of raised disfigured flesh, a white thin pattern marks where the chain naturally rests when she’s standing. On closer inspection, I see that the pattern is actually writing that repeats. My name, in beautiful ancient text, swirls and slightly sparkles, in the light.

With my index finger, I trace the pattern, starting on her chest and moving towards her neck. She flinches in her sleep. Uncomfortable with my touch, even now.

I stop touching her and finish off my wine, before joining her in bed. The slave silks haven’t arrived but I know they will be ready tomorrow. The staff will stay up through the night making them if they have to.

After removing the wet towel from her body, I pull her to my side and go to sleep.

Sarah POV

Waking up in the middle of the night, I feel terrible. My muscles are soar and my skin feels like I spent a day at the beach without sun block.

Warm breath hits the back of my neck and heavy arms circle my body. Everything hurts and I can’t tell from the pain if he did anything to me after I passed out.

I can feel the sheets under my body and his muscular chest pressed against my back. I’m not wearing clothes and in bed with a stranger.

To scared to move, I lay in the dark as large tears drip from my eyes. I can actually hear them hit the bed, with little wet plops

Suddenly, I feel a thumb on my cheek, sweeping away my tears. At the unexpected touch, I flinch and inhale sharply. Adrenaline starts coursing through my vains, making my heart race and body shake.

I feel lips gently kiss my shoulder moving slowly to towards my neck. The arms tighten, crushing me to the body behind me.

“D-Don’t.” I pull away but his arms keep me trapped.

“Shuuu. Don’t move.” Immediately, I’m frozen, unable to even cry. Incredible terrified, and locked in my own body, I can only yell in my own mind.

Fingertips brush my stomach, tracing soft circles as a mouth sucks my neck. I hate his touch even though he’s being gentle and in my mind I pray for it to stop.

I feel a tung lick my ear and try to pull away. It’s hard, but I manage to move slightly, bending my head enough to escape the unwanted feeling. The necklace gets warm against my skin, and lights up with a soft red glow.

“You’ve learnt nothing, I see.” His hand stops moving and just rests against my belly.

“Tell me about your parents. What was your relationship like with them? Do you feel like they love you?” He whispers against me ear.

My lips move on their own, spilling the truth about my past.

“They took care of me. I had everything I needed except their attention. They didn’t care enough to be there for me. Not like my brother. No, I don’t think they love me. Especially not now.” It hurts to say that out loud. Knowing they sent me here on purpose, it’s apparent they never loved me.

“You have a brother? Tell me about him.”

“He’s a year younger and looks like my mother. I look more like my dad. My parents fuss over him. We weren’t close either.” I don’t want to talk anymore and I’m still unable to move.

“Turn over and face me.” I roll over and our noses nearly touch.

“How did you get the debtor’s stone?” His sweet breath washes over my face.

“They brought it to me as a gift for graduating. My mother put it on me and left. There was no warning. They didn’t even say goodbye.” I can feel tears falling again. His fingers brush them away. I don’t understand what’s happening. Why is he suddenly acting like he cares?

His arms hold me to his chest again, my head just under his chin and his hand rubs against my back.

“Go to sleep.” I’m still scared of what he might do to me. Regardless my eyes shut and I drift off to a deep sleep.

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