Sky Lord, Rowan Erlking [best free ereader txt] 📗

were not alone in that room.

“I said, don’t move.” He pulled off the one arm strap.

Tia wished that snatching three hours of life would get her out of this predicament, but she knew there was no escape. She did as bade, leaving her arms in her lap.

He removed the other one. Tia watched him as he took out a pair of white gloves, just as long as the arm covers and with similar buckles to fix them on to the halter.

“Stick out your hand,” he said.

She obeyed, lifting her left arm though she hardly masked the annoyance on her face.

The butler slid on the thin silk gloves. They were comfortable and reminded her of the pair the Patriarch wore when he touched her. He pulled on the other glove. Feeling someone else’s hands fix the buckle, adding an extra click in what sounded like a lock, Tia closed her eyes.

“Now lift your legs,” the butler commanded.

Tia opened her eyes, wondering if they were going to give her long stockings also. She lifted her foot, feeling the man take off her spiked heel and watching him drop the thing on the floor in disgust. He removed the other one, tossing it over to the other one. He then snapped his fingers. A servant emerged from behind a curtain to the right, carrying over a simple pair of white slippers. The butler put them on her feet.

He stood up. “Stay here and do not make a sound. They will bring you lunch. You are to eat it without remark, and then you will sleep.”

She blinked at him. There was no point in arguing. Tia watched the butler leave the room, opening and shutting the large doors behind him.

But she was not alone in the room. The guard with the prod stood arms distance away, always ready to act if she budged. Also servants were working about the room. One turned the bedcovers down on an enormous canopy bed. Another took out a loose camisole, obviously meant for her. A different servant carried in the sheer robe that went with it. Tia shivered, wondering if these outfits were only just ordered by the Patriarch to satisfy his new lustful dreams. It made her think that quite possibly he might press the matter that night. She clutched her arms to herself, but that earned a sharp jab with the prod because it was a sudden movement.

“Food is here,” announced a servant, opening the doors after a slight rap on the other side. One man pushed in the cart, rolling it to the vanity where Tia sat.

They lifted the tray cover and took off the dishes, placing each one in front of Tia. There were small plates each with an entrée of different kinds. The smell of them overwhelmed Tia’s senses—a sampling, she knew, of what she could expect in the future if she agreed to help the Patriarch. A servant set an elegant two-tined fork on the edge of the roasted pheasant thigh covered in rich gravy. Behind it they set a tiered bowl of trifle, topped with a candy-glazed strawberry.

“Wow! Can I have lunch here?” Jonis’s voice echoed from the doorway.

“Out you!” Her guard stomped over, waving his prod like a sword. He slammed the doors shut. “Disgusting Cordril.”

“Why is he lingering?” one servant whispered to another, pulling back the empty dinner tray, immediately standing at attention with his hands behind his back.

The other snuck in his response, even quieter than the first. “I don’t know. But he scares me to death. He only comes around when there’s a job. The Patriarch has no use for him now.”

“Silence!” The butler had returned. He stopped next to her then smiled when he saw that she had not moved. “Eat. The Patriarch will be here shortly. You are to obey him and not contradict him. Is that understood?”

Tia dared not speak. She picked up the fork instead, gently feeling it under the gloves.

“You must answer me. Do you understand?”

She knew that was a command.

“I understand,” she said.

“Good.” The butler turned. “I will not return until the Patriarch arrives. You are to do exactly what the servants tell you, and you are not to dawdle. Is that clear?”

She knew he expected an answer now. “It is clear.”

“Do you understand?” He sounded annoyed.

Tia bowed her head, speaking above a whisper. “I understand.”

He turned without further ado.

“Eat,” the servants to her right said, waiting at attention.

Tia obeyed, stabbing in the fork to start on the chicken.

 

She finished her meal without rushing, but also with a great hunger since that morning. Jonis had been right. Being up in Danslik made her very hungry. The servants handed her a glass of wine to drink, but after one sip Tia made a face and reached for the goblet of water instead.

“It is not fine enough for you?” the guard with the electric prod asked.

Tia dared not answer, drinking in the water more.

He jabbed her. “Answer me!”

“Wine makes me ill. I never liked it,” she said.

The servants immediately took it away. One grinned, placing it back on the cart. Their looks said that they would drink it when no one was looking.

Once Tia placed down the cup, the servants to her right cleared off all the plates and took them back out on the cart. Tia remained in her chair, waiting further instructions. There really wasn’t anything else to do under the circumstances. Luckily she did not have to wait long. The servants that had been milling about preparing the room for bed now approached her.

“Stand and come forward. You are to do as we say and no dilly-dallying,” said a woman in the most strict voice possible. It reminded Tia of her mistress, and she cast a glance to make sure it wasn’t she. This woman looked nothing like her. Thin and needle-like in her appearance, she was dressed humbly in a plain blue servant’s gown and apron.

“Lift your arms,” the woman snapped, walking around Tia.

Tia did so.

The servants unclasped the halter and pulled it off, detaching the gloves, but leaving them on. They placed the halter on the vanity.

“Arms, down.”

She obeyed.

Immediately the servants undid her bodice and pulled off her dress. Tia shivered, watching them take the blue dress away as if it were a rag. Another set of servants carried over the silky camisole, lifting it over her head and moving her arms through the armholes. The lightweight silk dropped past her face, slipping softly to her thighs. It was no better than the blue dress in covering her, flimsier also. Tia shuddered.

One servant immediately looked up at her, startled. They connected eyes once. A flicker of pity passed through the servant’s gaze, but it was gone when the servant continued with her task.

They lifted up the bell to the chain, pulling it through the front of the dress. The head female servant set it on her palm, watching Tia with stern eyes as her fist closed on the bell. By then the ladies brought over the sheer robe, pulling in one arm at a time. One servant reached under the back, drawing the straps to the long gloves and hooking them together with another lock behind Tia’s spine.

“Sit on the bed and wait for the Patriarch to come,” the stern woman commanded, leading Tia by the chain to the bed. “You are not allowed to sleep until he gives you permission. Understood?”

“I understand,” Tia replied, staring down at the floor.

So that was how it was going to be, Tia thought. He would come that night instead of waiting until the morning for her decision. And what then? They only put coverings on her arms. She supposed they didn’t know that any skin contact gave her power to steal a life.

Tia looked up. The Patriarch knew. He knew the moment he kissed her. Would he then be prepared for her? What would happen?

The double doors opened. Her answer would come then.

She saw the butler enter then stand to the side of the door. The Patriarch strolled in as if he owned every second and used it at his leisure. He was no longer in his formal suit but dressed in a velvet bed robe, embroidered with silk. Turning, he ordered the doors closed and all the servants and guards out. The man with prod lifted his chest as if he would grumble, but he remained silent, marching out into the hall. The butler shut the doors. Tia heard the large lock on the other side heavily slide shut.

“Have you thought of my offer, Sky Child?” the Patriarch asked. He sat on the bed right next to her, reaching out with his hand and brushing his fingers against her cheek.

“I, um….” Tia stared at the bed, but then remembered how angry he got when she did not look him in the eyes. “I….”

He stroked her neck. His thoughts flooded through her. She knew what he wanted. Her heart pounded, her chest suddenly heaving.

“Do you need some more persuading?” he asked. He gently brushed open her already see-through robe.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Tia said. “I might hurt you.”

The Patriarch’s eyes sparkled. He pulled her closer, his hand now touching her bare shoulder. “Might. But I think you wouldn’t dare. You can control your ability, right?”

Tia nodded. “Yes, but I’m afraid I might lose control in panic.”

He leaned back and stared at her more frankly. “You mean to tell me you are nervous? Have you never been with a man before?”

She shook her head vigorously. “Never. I’m just a child. The Underlord always said I was.”

The Patriarch snorted, leaning closer again. “Perhaps you were to him. But if he saw you now, I don’t think he would call you a child anymore.”

He then started to kiss her, starting at her neck while pushing Tia to the bed. She could feel his lust rushing over her, hearing also what he might do if she tried to absorb him. The guards would torture her if she tried it even briefly. Tia now knew that she had to resist her instincts with all her might. The Patriarch would win no matter what she did.

His lips eventually reached hers, his groping hands dragging under her camisole. “Make love to me.”

His heavy breathing and pounding chest demanded it, his hand groping downward for action. Tia pushed away from him.

The Patriarch sat up. “What are you doing? I gave a direct order.”

Tia was trying hard to fight all the mixed feelings in chest, most of them his. He wanted to conquer her like that rapist had. He wanted to get as much pleasure out of her, and he wanted to use her. She detested him, just as she detested Albid. Even if she could not beat him at the game by using her gift, Tia most certainly would not give in that easily.

He opened his robe, smiling in a way she knew was charming. She had seen enough into his head to know that he considered himself a real ladies man. His conquests numbered in her mind as his skin touched hers. Many women succumbed to his unsatisfied lust. The Patriarch leaned again against her, shoving forward to conquer yet another wench.

But Tia was not just another wench. She pushed him back with her arms, struggling against his heavy chest and strong hands to get away. “Leave me! I don’t want this!”

He lifted his head. His hands moved from her legs, reaching up for her wrists. “You…will…not…stop…me.”

Ramming his knee down, he bruised her legs, scraping along the insides of her thighs.

Tia screamed.

Bang!

The doors slammed open. Three guards ran in with Jonis at the lead. He staggered forward once then stopped with a gaping stare with his eyes entirely fixed on Tia.

Retreating two steps, Jonis rubbed the back of his neck and flushed. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I had no idea you were this kind of busy. We thought you were in trouble.”

The Patriarch got up at once, wrapping his robes around his waist. “Jonis Macoy! You have my