A/N1: all things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer, the author we don't hear much about these days but who is the reason why you're reading my story right now.

And of course, a huge thanks to my regular followers (you know who you are), because by letting me know what you think, you're the reason I keep on translating this smutty/quirky/period fiction.

Good reading and check my other A/N at the bottom, if you think I forgot to say something.

Chapter 29

Winds of change

CarlislePOV

Even though I was very busy with three patients under my care since early morning, I couldn't stop thinking about Isabella's terrible fate when Aro asked Edward to administer an exemplary punishment to her.

I couldn't even remember the last time Edward had to administer such a punishment. Moreover, I knew that despite my son's tendencies to become aroused when punishing a slave, he didn't enjoy beating a woman just to inflict pain. In fact, Emmett and Edward judged it deplorable that the lords of Volterra caused so many injuries necessitating my care, given the fact that said injuries were just the consequences of normal "usage" of the girls.

When my sons punished the sex slaves, they made it their duty not to use more than a certain amount of strength in the spanking, whipping or flogging. It was a paradox somehow: in theory they were the only persons supposed to discipline the captives, but in reality the Volturi didn't hesitate to do it themselves, much to Edward's displeasure, for those men didn't know the first thing about control. In the punitive context, if a spanking was particularly harsh, my sons had all the necessary creams and ointments in their training rooms to treat the girls before sending them back to the women's quarters.

Most of the time, Edward was able to punish the girls less violently than requested by his employers, and he only pretended he had done all that they had asked of him. Never did the Volturi pay him a visit in the castle's basements to verify what he was doing.

This thought should have appeased me, but I had a bad feeling about today. I wasn't sure Edward would be able to feign indifference when he was summoned by Aro. When the ruler summoned me to his chamber to treat his wound, he'd appeared resolute to ensure that the marquise de Courville and the comtesse de Marillac pay dearly for their actions. If the threats he voiced while I was stitching his penis were not so Dantesque, I'd have laughed at him; he more than deserved his misfortune. But Aro clearly let me know that if the two new slaves didn't receive a severe enough correction, he and his brothers would torture the other captives on purpose, oblivious, it seemed, to the fact that in doing so they risked damaging the girls permanently. Or maybe Aro didn't mind having to send someone to Candie to buy new slaves…

Edward blanched when I told him about Aro's intentions. He didn't want to whip two girls who were only victims of their masters' lustful whims. Indeed, if that imbecile Aro had waited for Edward's approval before summoning the young aristocrats to him in the middle of the night, today he wouldn't be a humiliated and diminished man seeking retribution. From that standpoint, Isabella and Alice weren't actually responsible for what happened to him.

In addition, yesterday Edward had confessed that the marquise was not leaving him indifferent, which made me realize that he was probably facing a huge moral dilemma right now. He was a wreck when I sent him to rest, yet I doubted he would be able to sleep knowing what the Volturi expected of him.

My mind was bombarded with questions as I got Alice to drink the soporific tisane so I could immobilize her injured leg with a splint. There was no way I would do it if she wasn't asleep, for the manipulations I had to do would probably add to her current pain. Fortunately, she turned out to be an obedient patient. While she was drinking the beverage, a mix of sedative and analgesic herbs, I tried my best to explain the situation.

"Mademoiselle de Marillac, as I told you earlier, you don't have to fear Aro's retaliation as long as you stay in the infirmary. I don't know exactly how much time it will take for your knee to heal completely, but I'll have a message sent to your masters to inform them of your critical condition, even though you're really not in that bad shape."

"It's very generous of you, Doctor Cullen, wanting to protect me from those horrible men. My only regret is that there's nothing you can do for Isabella," the comtesse sighed with a sleepy voice.

"If it's any consolation, Alice," I said, "know that Edward has a bigger heart than it seems and he'll do everything in his power so that your friend won't suffer too much during the punishment Aro wants him to give her."

The young noble girl didn't say anything because the drug she just drank had her slumbering almost instantly. I worked on her for a while before moving to Jasper's bed to change his position. When I was done with him, I realized that Jacob's eyes were wide open and he was watching me very intensely, but at the same time he looked confused. On the other hand, he didn't seem to be suffering as much from his back wounds.

"What's going on, Doctor Cullen? How the hell did the comtesse end up in here with a leg injury?" he asked, perplexed.

He was in a sitting position now and could see the splint on Alice's leg. I didn't answer his question right away; instead I asked, "How do you feel this morning, boy? Are you still in a lot of pain?"

"No, Doctor, it's not as bad as it was yesterday, but thank you for your concern. I'm mostly anxious now. Would you please enlighten me about last night's events? When I fell asleep Alice wasn't here…"

It would be useless to hide the truth from Jacob, so I summarized the situation for him. "Aro, Caius and Marcus didn't want to wait any longer to "play" with their new "acquisitions," Jacob. They ignored Edward's advice and summoned Isabella and Alice in the middle of the night…"

"Oh! Fucking shit! Are you telling me that Isabella stayed with these bastards during all this time? That she's still with them as we speak?"

The young slave could barely contain his rage. I sensed he was ready to jump off of his bed any second to pay a visit to his masters, and I couldn't blame him.

"Don't panic, boy. Your mistress didn't let them have their wicked way with her. Actually, she injured Aro before fleeing the bedchamber with Alice. It's during their escape that the comtesse fell down the stairs and broke her leg…"

Instead of appeasing him, my words made the prisoner even more nervous.

"But, Doctor, that's not reassuring at all! It's nice to know that nothing can happen to Alice as long as she stays here, but it doesn't resolve Isabella's case. You just said she hurt one of her masters. Surely they'll want revenge for that! Maybe they will torture her like Jasper tortured me!"

"Edward's the one in charge of taming the marquise," I cut Jacob off, "so he's the one who will have to punish her, and I'm positive that he'll do everything to avoid abusing your mistress."

The young man stared at me, suspicious and doubtful.

"Your son is no better than your employers, Mr. Cullen. I heard him talking with Jasper the other day. He considers the women in the harem as mere commodities; in his opinion they are only good to be used to satisfy his base instincts!"

At first I didn't know what to say to Jacob because, unfortunately, he was right to a certain extent. He continued, "His exchange with Jasper on our way back from the inn was totally lacking respect toward Isabella. So I'm pretty convinced that he'll take a lot of pleasure beating her up at Aro's request…"

I sighed loudly before interrupting him, "Sometimes appearances can be deceiving, Jacob. It's true that Edward is an opportunist when it comes to the sex slaves. However, I can assure you that he would never hurt Isabella deliberately. At least not anymore..."

There was fire in the lackey's eyes has he listened to me defending my son.

"You're his father. It's only natural that you try to protect him. But obviously you're lacking objectivity."

"Listen, young man, it's very honorable of you to want to save the marquise from the Volturi's hold, but you need to realize that it's also my son's goal. As for me, objective or not, I'm just trying to make the sex slaves' life more bearable. For, as terrible as their fate might be, it used to be much worse before our arrival in Volterra, believe me!"

Jacob said nothing for several minutes, letting me clean his wounds and apply an analgesic ointment on them before I put on new dressings. His back had really improved since I first brought him here.

"I didn't even think to ask what Isabella did to Aro," he finally commented.

"She tore his penis with her teeth," I replied placidly.

The young groom turned pale as death.

"You're utterly naïve, Doctor, if you think Edward will be able to spare Isabella from the worst. Aro must be mad with rage toward her at this very moment. I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to punish her himself, in order to show her who's in command here and make her understand the seriousness of her action," he said with an altered voice.

I hadn't thought of this eventuality before, but I didn't want Jacob to worry more than he already did. "Aro is absolutely not capable of seeking revenge by himself at the moment. I just stitched his manhood and he can barely walk to the bathroom without help."

But my patient didn't seem swayed.

"Monsieur de Morvalle, I've only been in Volterra for three days, and yet I've got the feeling I know more about those despots who employ you than you do yourself. You're certainly aware that the Volturi have people at their service. I don't know where your sons' quarters are located, but I don't see what would prevent Aro from seeking help to get there and then asking Edward to step back and leave Isabella's punishment to him. It's my understanding that your son has all the accessories needed to inflict a lot of pain…"

This time Jacob had gone too far. I couldn't leave him with the impression that Edward and Emmett were torturers at the Volturi's service. I had to explain him what their job consisted of.

"Wait a minute," I cut him off. "You seem to think that my heirs are unscrupulous brutes the likes of Jasper Whitlock and that they use their training rooms to beat the crap out of the captives. They have better things to do with their time…"

"Better things like what, Doctor?" he questioned. "You should admit that your sons are two sex maniacs who spend their days punishing the girls under their watch just to get to fuck them senseless afterward!"

Lord God! Poor Jacob! If that's what he thought, no wonder he hated the guardians of the harem so much. He believed they were two depraved men, and the worst part in all this was that the appearances proved him right.

I sighed anew before I tried to clear things up. "Jacob, generally speaking, my sons are here to protect the slaves while training them, and they also insure their sexual well-being. They are not the savages you imagine in your mind."

"But if Edward is responsible for the training of these women, it means he can abuse them with impunity!" the lackey replied disgustedly.

"That's where you're mistaken in your assessment of the situation, boy. Emmett and Edward are not rapists and they would never sleep with a slave without her consent."

The young man frowned all the while trying to stand up.

"Could you help me, Doc? I'm sick of having to use a chamber pot when I'm fully aware that you have running water in this fucking palace…"

I helped him walk to my water closet and closed the door behind him. He kept on talking even then. "What you just told me doesn't make any sense, comte. You said the harem prisoners agree to get screwed after a spanking? Are they masochistic or what?"

Fortunately, I knew exactly what a training session was about, or else I would have been embarrassed by my heirs' conduct. "Even when Edward must punish a girl with a whip or a riding crop, at the end of the punishment he always uses the accessories to arouse the offender. And when he brings a slave in his dungeon for a session of training, it's to show her what to expect to feel with the various punishing devices and pleasure enhancers that her masters could choose to use on her. One way or the other, the time spent in the taming room is almost always for the purpose of inducing the captives' arousal. In the end, they inevitably want a release. And my sons would never deny it since one part of their job is to keep them sexually satisfied," I reiterated.

"Okay, I see your point, Doctor Cullen, but it doesn't change the fact that your sons are taking advantage of the situation!" Jacob retorted as he exited the toilet, looking indignant.

"I'm fully aware of that, but it so happens that the girls are way better off since we are living here, so I'm willing to close my eyes to these circumstances. Edward and his brother are good lovers, according to the women's testimonies when they're brought to me for one reason or another. It's all that matters to me, because being sexually satiated thanks to my sons compensates them a little for their masters' cruel manners."

Isabella's friend made a dubious pout.

"But then, don't you fear those poor girls could develop deeper feelings toward their guardians? It seems to me that the last thing your sons would want is for the captives to fall in love with them…"

And what about the opposite? I wondered. I reflected on Edward's weird behavior since the arrival of the new prisoners. Could he be falling in love with Isabella? He would have a very hard time if it was the case because the marquise obviously hated him. In fact, she wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth.

I came back from my musing and answered Jacob's question, "As I said, Edward's not a rapist, but nor is he a saint. And it's true that he takes advantage of his position here, but he doesn't show any feelings toward the girls; he remains cold and irreverent so the captives think he's a heartless jerk despite the pleasure he gives them."

"You know, Doc, some women love that kind of bastard. Moreover, you admitted earlier that Edward's not indifferent to the marquise de Courville. Is he getting a taste of his own medicine? Because I'm warning you right now that I won't let him play with Isabella's feelings if he doesn't feel anything for her!"

"Well, Jacob, that's what I've been trying to explain: your mistress succeeded, by God knows what miracle, in piercing Edward's armor. He confessed to me that he's incapable of pretending he's made of ice in her presence."

"That doesn't mean anything," the groom cut me off once more. "Isabella Swan is an exquisite young girl and he could simply find her very attractive, but that might not prevent him from obeying Aro's orders if that monster wants her to pay dearly for what she did to him."

That Jacob boy was very stubborn, and I was running out of arguments. I was sure that Edward was feeling something more than just physical attraction toward Isabella, because physical attraction is what he felt for half the women he saw on a daily basis. He had confessed that the marquise was different from the other captives and that she almost made him lose control. It was proof enough that he saw something more in her, wasn't it? He wouldn't be so upset at her fate if she was an ordinary slave in his eyes. I thought about Tanya with whom he had a special connection. Yet despite this bond, he'd always been in control with her and didn't care much about the brutal way Aro behaved with her.

"Jacob, when I told Edward how Aro was angry and wanted to see Isabella punished as soon as possible, he had a meltdown in front of me. Honestly, I'd never seen him react like this with any other slave. I can guarantee you that he'll try to lesser your mistress's sentence, and certainly not take pleasure in administering it," I concluded.

Maybe the young man would have found another reason to contradict me again, but he was cut short by a knock at the door at that very moment. When I noticed that nobody entered the main area of my apartment, I assumed the person knocking was Esme Platt. She was shy and didn't like to intrude. It was approaching noon and I'd asked Alec to arrange for my meal to be delivered here once more. It was the only way I'd found to get the opportunity to see Isabella's charming nanny. I went to the door and there she was; she looked even prettier today than at our first encounter. I wondered whether she'd styled her hair because she knew she'd see me. I hoped I was the reason for the wide smile she greeted me with.

"Here's your meal, Carlisle," she said, still smiling.

She really seemed happy to see me. But perhaps she was just hoping to receive some good news about Alice.

"Please, Esme, will you stay and share this tray of food with me?" I asked warmly.

"I don't want to abuse your time, comte. I know that you're very busy at the moment with three patients under your care," she hesitated.

"You never abuse my time, my dear," I replied in a familiar tone to put her at ease. "I was discussing the Volturi's sex slaves' fate with Jacob. But we can change the subject if you prefer. I wouldn't want to upset or offend you with such a touchy matter."

Esme's expression darkened suddenly.

"I'd rather you tell me how little Alice is doing, Carlisle. There are rumors circulating in the harem and the kitchen that she injured herself while fleeing her masters, but all I learned from Isabella is that she was unconscious when Edward brought her to you."

"That's correct, but she wasn't unconscious for long. Her injury is not that serious. She fractured her knee in the stairs and I'm taking advantage of this unfortunate accident and extracting her from the Volturi's grip." I said as I led my guest to the table.

Jacob hadn't returned to his bed; he probably heard me talking to Esme and he wanted to join in the chat. He was lying on one of my settees.

"Would you like to eat with us, Jacob?" I asked politely.

It would be futile to hope for a more private moment with Esme in my quarters: there was always too much going on here at any given time. Besides, it was premature to contemplate a serious relationship with Isabella's governess. Heck, I didn't even know if the feelings I had for her were reciprocated.

When she saw Jacob settled in my lounge, Esme hurried to his side.

"Jesus, my poor boy! Jasper Whitlock deserves to rot in hell for what he did to you!" she exclaimed, outraged.

"Don't worry about me, Esme. I'm much better today. So, is it true that you're working in the palace's kitchen?"

"Indeed, I have that privilege, for the Volturi didn't want me as a sex slave. I'm too old for that kind of function. So I have to look after my protégées from afar. But enough about me. You must be famished, you're pale as death. Come sit with us; I prepared plenty of food for the doctor, just in case…"

I felt a little twinge in my heart upon hearing Esme call me 'the doctor' as if I were a secondary role in a play, but what exactly was I expecting? I would have to be more eloquent toward her if I wanted her to see my feelings for her.

She didn't have to ask the lackey twice. She helped him stand and he sat with us at the table. She hadn't been exaggerating about the food. The tray she brought me had enough food to feed a small army: several meat terrines, a whole salmon, a plate garnished with quails and vegetables, salads, baguette and cheese, pastries, and a bottle of wine. I grabbed some glasses from my cabinet and then filled them generously with the red liquid. Esme passed the dishes, still looking concerned.

I made another attempt at reassuring her, "Don't worry about my other patients, dear Esme. Alice is sound asleep, and as for Jasper, frankly I don't give a damn if he never gets out of his comatose state."

"But Carlisle, he's going to dry out like an old plum," she sighed.

"So you want him to rot in hell but God forbids that he start looking like a piece of parchment while still alive?" I teased my guest.

"Actually, I'd rather he wakes up so we can tell him what a brute he is. I can hardly believe how bloodthirsty he is. There must be a way to get him to change…"

I was about to point out that it was probably the nature of his work which had turned Jasper a barbarian, but Jacob sidetracked me, "So you saw Bella this morning, Esme? I heard Aro didn't have his way with her…"

"Yes, Jake. As I said, I saw her briefly in the dining room, talking with Rosalie. And before the duchesse joined her, she had time to tell me that she and Alice avoided the worst last night. But still, Carlisle," she continued, turning in my direction, "I hope with all my heart that even though Bella disobeyed Aro, Edward won't punish her too severely. She was only trying to protect her friend, you know…"

Poor Esme seemed to think of me as some kind of mediator. Should I tell her the truth? That Edward wasn't the one deciding the punishment that would be inflicted on the marquise? But Jacob interjected, speaking first between two bites of bread, "I think that Edward will not be the one who'll get to punish Bella. Fucking crap, she bit Aro's dick! It's obvious he's going to want a personal revenge, the bastard!"

"Oh my God! That's horrendous!" Esme exclaimed, distraught. "Carlisle, you treated his wound, didn't you? So you must know what his intentions are, right?"

"I only know that he holds Alice and Isabella responsible for his misfortune and he won't let them get away unscathed. Obviously he can't have the comtesse de Marillac pay for what she did as long as she's under my watch, but I got the impression, when I was with him, that he's not going to make Isabella wait for his retaliation…"

Esme stared at me with determination.

"Isn't there anything at all that you can do to save her from her terrible fate, Carlisle?"

The way she spoke sounded as if her feelings toward me depended on what I'd tell her. It saddened me to some extent, for I had nothing to do with any of this mess. I had to explain why my hands were tied, figuratively speaking.

"Alas, my dear friend, the answer is no. Aro threatened to severely torture the other women in the harem if someone was to try to put a stop to Isabella's punishment. Believe me, I'm aware that this is an odious blackmailing, and you have no idea how appalled it makes me feel," I sighed.

Jacob was listening carefully and he furrowed a brow, "Doctor Cullen, there must be a way to neutralize those fucking rulers and to put an end to their tyranny once and for all!"

I could see where the lackey was headed, but it wasn't that simple. The Volturi also employed mercenaries in case there was a massive uprising among the male slaves working in the fields.

"The problem is that I'm the only one in Volterra who truly wishes to put an end to the Volturi's depravities," I replied. "My sons are still quite young and they go along with the current situation because it allows them to satisfy their libido. They only live in the present and don't reflect much, if at all, on the eventual consequences of this sexual servitude on the captives. As for thinking of triggering a mutiny among the male slaves, it would be a lost cause because of the mercenaries lurking in different part of the domain, waiting for the moment when Jasper alone would fail to keep a hold on each and every prisoner."

"This is so tragic, Carlisle," Esme repeated. "Bella's fate if she'd married Lord Newton and lived on his property in Corsica wasn't joyful, but at least the duc de Cresson is not a sexual deviant, nor a man who beats women for sport…"

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," Jacob muttered, emptying his glass of wine.

"I've heard the rumors about Michael Newton, young man," she cut him off dryly. "It's true that he's a womanizer, but none of his conquests ever complained about being abused!"

"Regardless, Esme, the fact remains that Bella deserved a better suitor to begin with," the groom went on.

And since my guest seemed surprised to see Jacob getting furious at a man they both knew only by hearsay, the young man was given no choice but to reveal the monetary transaction that was to take place right after the wedding ceremony. Apparently, the Swan de Courville had plainly sold their only daughter to the Cresson d'Alembert's heir to clear his tainted and questionable reputation. I wasn't very surprised by those revelations, for Mike Newton's father was a pushy man without any sense of morality. Esme then admitted that she knew Isabella's father was going to receive money in exchange for his daughter; at first she was merely resentful toward the marquis without realizing her protégée's future in-laws only wanted a wife for their son to stop the gossiping, which was no better.

We continued our casual conversation around the improvised feast until late in the afternoon. Eventually, Esme had to excuse herself because she needed to go prepare the supper, and Jacob started to complain again about the pain caused by his wounds. I had him drink another analgesic/sedative tisane, and soon he fell asleep.

My day was far from over, but I would have liked to take advantage of the sudden quietness in my apartment to have a nap of my own. Yet it wasn't to be, for as soon as I dozed off on the settee occupied earlier by Jacob, I heard Emmett's booming voice in my parlor.

"So, Carlisle, any change in Jasper's condition?"

Forty-eight hours had passed since Jasper slipped into a coma and my son was already tired of spending his entire days outside the city rather than working on the training of the duchesse d'Essanges. He had completely recovered from his peculiar experience with the young woman two days ago. It was clear that Rosalie Hale wasn't innocent and naïve like Isabella Swan. I tried to imagine what the outcome would have been if Aro had asked for the duchesse instead of the comtesse. In all probabilities, he would be in an even worse state right now. Together, Isabella and Rosalie would have been able to injure him way more seriously. I smiled at the thought of those two gorgeous women tearing Aro's family jewels apart.

"What's so funny?" Emmett questioned, seeing the contentment in my face.

"I was thinking about Rosalie Hale, and how she would have dealt with Aro," I replied while slowly straightening up.

"But I heard through the grapevine that Isabella Swan didn't do bad at all at humiliating our employer…," Emmett trailed off before going on. "I guess Edward will have a very hard time with this girl as well. And that's all for the best!"

He was visibly still holding a grudge against Edward because of the way my younger son had made fun of him yesterday morning.

"If you mean he's going to have a hard time taming Isabella so she will submit, I can already tell you he's never going to obtain any positive results with her, and for more reasons than just one. First and foremost, he's not able to stay in control when she's naked in front of him. And then, in addition to losing his composure – which makes it impossible for him to accomplish his job as a slave trainer – I have the impression that Edward is feeling more than just carnal desire toward the marquise. He can't bear the thought of her being brutalized by her masters…"

I saw astonishment in my oldest son's face.

"Fucking Lord! This isn't good at all, Carlisle! If he fears that she'll get brutalized by the Volturi, he himself will never be able to administer the exemplary punishment that they're demanding!"

"This whole situation could have serious repercussions on Isabella," I continued to explain. "She already hates Edward with all her heart, so you certainly understand that if, and I say if, he's able to keep his composure and hide his feelings toward her from Aro, and he inflicts the damn punishment her masters require, she's going to want to strangle him. Frankly, I'd rather Jacob's hypothesis was right…"

Emmett stared at me, confused.

"What? What did Jacob say?"

"He thinks Aro's going to discipline Isabella himself."

"Well, at least if it were the case, he could change his strategy with her and try to do some damage control," my son retorted sarcastically.

We heard hoarse complaints coming from the infirmary and I hurried to the other room with Emmett on my heels. I then saw Jasper turning his head from left to right and back again as if he was being pestered by something invisible. Emmett stayed back while I leaned over the man who appeared to be out of his coma. I sighed deeply in relief. I wouldn't have to worry anymore that the Volturi's employee died of acute dehydration. As for his slightly atrophied muscles, time alone would rebuild them.

When he opened his eyes, I noticed they were haggard, as if he was experiencing extreme anxiety. Despite this fact, I tried to look optimistic so as to not worsen whatever it was that had him looking so desperate.

"Ah, Jasper, I'm really glad you're back among us!"

Upon hearing me, his edginess turned into confusion.

"Who are you, sir? And where am I?" he asked with an almost aggressive tone.

The relief I'd just felt completely disappeared. Nevertheless, I tried to keep a neutral voice when I answered, "I'm Doctor Carlisle Cullen, Jasper, and if you're asking these questions, I'm afraid it's because the damage to your brain made you amnesic."

My patient seemed very startled by my diagnosis.

"Amnesic? Not at all, Mr. Cullen; I was assaulted by dogs while trying to extract Alice from her uncle's clutches."

As I listened to Jasper recount what he believed he had lived through – and wondered if it was only rambling – I came to think of Edward, who I hadn't seen since morning.

"Emmett, go warn your brother that Jasper came out of his coma," I ordered.

But instead of complying, he approached the bed and stated loud and clear, "But what's it with him telling he's got attacked by dogs? And what did he say about Alice? That's not amnesia, Carlisle; that's delirium!"

Couldn't he keep his opinion to himself? Jasper didn't need to know that we worried about his mental state.

"Good lord, I'm not raving! Little Alice is in great danger if she stays with her uncle!"

Emmett stared more attentively at his friend, and I'd have sworn he was on the edge of crying, depending on the male slaves' guardian's next comment.

"My goodness, stop staring at Jasper like he's a circus freak and go get Edward!" I snapped.

At last Emmett did what he was told and I could better focus on what I was going to say to Jasper, who seemed more desperate by the second even though he was making a huge effort to conceal it. At least this hadn't changed: Jasper had always been very good at hiding his emotions.

"Please, Doctor Cullen, tell me Alice wasn't killed by the dog?" he asked again.

I'd never seen the young man this anxious before. It was really disconcerting. And how was I supposed to interpret his words?

"I don't know where you got that story involving dogs, Jasper, but Alice is safe and sound. Right now she's sleeping in the bed facing yours," I reassured him.

"Can I see her?" Jasper insisted feverishly.

I didn't quite understand his worry about Alice. And now he was trying to clamber out of his bed all by himself. Clearly he didn't realize the gravity of the damage caused by his coma. I offered him my support to help him sit.

"Why do you worry so much about Alice anyway? You should drink plenty of water for starters; you're completely dehydrated," I said with a sigh.

However, my patient seemed to not care about my advice. He persisted, "I'll drink after I've seen the little one. And first, I still don't know where I am."

Perhaps if I meekly answered his questions, he'd listen to me in the end.

"You're in the castle's infirmary. And you can call me Carlisle, you know. It's not typical for you to use a formal tone with your entourage."

I helped him stand up. Needless to say, he could barely hold himself upright.

"Why am I so weak?" he asked, holding me tight to walk toward Alice's bed.

"You've been in a coma for forty-eight hours, Jasper. That's two days during which you had nothing to drink or eat. Moreover, you must be atrociously stiff. I sincerely think that you're very lucky not to be in a worse shape than you are as it is, boy," I admitted point blank.

Upon hearing my answer, the young man examined himself more carefully, as if he didn't know who he was anymore. He finally said in a hoarse voice, "You're right, Carlisle, I really lost my memory. There was no infirmary in the Volturi's palace when I left the city with my father to go buy some new slaves at the Candie market."

That was a detail which could help uncover the extent of his amnesia.

"What year was that, Jasper?" I asked.

We'd reached the comtesse's bed.

"In June of 1662," he answered very low, to not awaken the young woman still sleeping peacefully.

"And it's the last thing you remember?"

Jasper nodded but it was clear that he didn't want to elaborate about his ordeal with the dogs.

"Well, that means fourteen years of your life are not accessible to your memory anymore, for we are currently in September of the year 1676," I stated.

I wasn't sure if the convalescent heard me, enthralled that he was now staring at the young comtesse. My lord, he seemed utterly dazzled by the beauty of the aristocrat in front of him. After spending a long while observing her, he slowly straightened up.

"I don't understand. What the hell is Alice doing in the Volturi's castle?" he enquired, perplexed.

As for me, I had no idea why he was so obsessed with and preoccupied about Alice. Something was wrong inside his mind, and I needed to investigate deeper.

"Alice Brandon, comtesse de Marillac, is a Volturi sex slave, Jasper," I confided, trying to stay impassive even though I was angry with the young man because he was in large part responsible for her position. I hoped he wouldn't ask me to elaborate, but apparently it was too much to wish for.

He pierced me with his astute gaze. "What is it that you're not telling me, Carlisle? I may have lost my memory, but I'm still able to see when someone is hiding things from me-"

I cut him off right away, "You don't need to know the details, Jasper. I'd rather you come with me and drink a large glass of water now that you saw the comtesse."

I knew he would be in shock if I threw the horrible truth in his face. I didn't have enough courage to do that.

"All right then. I'll ask that Emmett guy when he comes back," he replied harshly, turning to face me.

"No need to wait," I heard Alice's crystalline voice behind us. "I can very well explain why Carlisle feels uneasy and doesn't want to elaborate on the subject, Jasper Whitlock. I don't know what redeeming vision you had while you were in a coma for you to feel concerned about my fate all of a sudden, but for your information, I'm here because of you. You're the one who found me on the seashore and brought me here to serve as a sex toy for the Volturi brothers. This is the ugly truth, Jasper Whitlock!"

Jasper was still holding my arm at the moment when Alice opened her mouth to pronounce those fateful words. He gripped me more tightly upon hearing the comtesse's accusations, and his face became white.

"I think I'm going to accept that glass of water, Carlisle. And I'd also need something for that damn headache that's drilling since I've regained my senses…"

I helped him out of the infirmary and dragged him into my little adjacent lounge. But Alice wasn't done cursing at him. "Screw you, piece of shit. Disappear from my sight! All you deserve is to spend the rest of your life with that fucking headache!"

Jasper sat on the settee and stared at me, utterly dismayed.

"This is terrible, Carlisle! The comtesse hates me and I don't have any memory of ever having caused her harm."

I went to get the water pitcher and it gave me the time to mull over the explanation I would provide Jasper with about the current situation. I felt I had an obligation to admit to him that his behavior had always been brutal and that it wasn't only Alice Brandon who openly despised him. I thought of all the pain and the suffering he had inflicted on the workers under his watch. This allowed me to not pity him despite his deplorable state. He was affected both physically and psychically.

I handed him a large glass of water and went to sit in front of him.

"Jasper, Saturday morning, you and Emmett received the order from the Volturi to go survey the seashore in quest of survivors from a shipwreck after a monstrous storm over the Mediterranean Sea took place. You found survivors all right, in this case Alice Brandon, comtesse de Marillac, Rosalie Hale, duchesse d'Essanges, Isabella Swan, marquise de Courville, Esme Platt, her nanny, and Jacob Black, her lackey. You forced all of them to come here so they became new slaves at the service of the lords of Volterra. So excuse me if I'm being straightforward with you, boy, but don't expect anything else than hatred and contempt from all those people…"

After he emptied his glass of water all at once, Jasper sank in his seat and buried his face in his hands.

"I beg you, Carlisle, tell me what I can do to redeem myself. You speak of me like I used to be a monster, and yet the last thing I recall having done is trying to save Alice from an attack by rabid dogs…"

"Speaking of which," I interrupted, "let's talk about this dog assault. Are you telling me that you've met Alice in the past?"

Jasper was about to answer, but two things occurred simultaneously at that moment: Alice screamed in pain at the top of her lungs – the effect of the analgesic I gave her this morning had faded – and Edward dashed in the main room. I bounced from my seat to go meet him. He looked extremely disgruntled, which puzzled me for I thought he'd be glad his friend was out of his coma.

"Fucking shit, Carlisle! You have no idea how ill-timed this call is for me!" he spat out of the blue.

I said nothing at first because I wanted to take care of Alice. Edward followed me to the infirmary without noticing Jasper in the parlor. He continued, "Emmett told me about Jasper. Is it true that he's lost his mind?"

I turned to face my son, but I was distracted by Alice's non-stop moaning. "Why don't you go discuss with him? You'll see for yourself!" I replied, annoyed. "You could also take the opportunity to offer him something to eat. There are plenty of leftovers on the table. As for me, I need to prepare more tisane to soothe Alice's knee pain and Jasper's headache."

But Edward didn't move an inch. I had the feeling I was putting him under torture by asking him to assist me.

"You sent Emmett to bother me for this? Had I known, I wouldn't have literally thrown him into Rosalie's arms. He would have been as capable as me to help you!" he said in exasperation.

Good God, was there something wrong with him too?

"What's the matter, Edward? Don't you have a minute for me? I wanted to ask you some questions regarding Jasper, in case you'd know more than I do about his past."

"But he's conscious now, so why don't you ask him directly?" he asked with a frown.

"The problem is that Jasper is amnesic! And when it comes to Emmett, he believes his friend is delirious, so I prefer to keep him away…"

I continued to work while my youngest son ran his hand through his hair, visibly irritated.

"I'm sorry, Carlisle, but right now I don't give a shit about Jasper's condition, whether he's amnesic or mad. I have to care for Isabella. That bastard Aro decided to punish her himself this afternoon and he almost killed the defenseless girl."

I stopped what I was doing to watch Edward more attentively, but he was stubbornly looking down at the floor.

"Holy hell, we didn't need that!" I couldn't help cursing. "And when, exactly, did you intend to tell me so I could check her state?"

"I didn't want to burden you more, and I can treat her injuries myself," he explained.

I frowned in confusion. "What you're telling me is quite baffling. I'm sure Isabella is not very warm to the idea of being examined by you. Last time I checked, she loathed you even in her dreams…"

A thin smile formed on my son's lips.

"I did my best to make her not to loathe me anymore…"

This time, I was the one who prevented him from saying more. I was outraged. "I sincerely hope you're not insinuating that you played with the marquise's feelings, or else it will be my greatest joy to remove your name from my will and make Emmett the sole heir of all my properties, you little dirty manipulator!"

"Jeez, Carlisle, have some faith in me! What are you imagining? I never insinuated anything like that! I can understand, to a certain point, that you don't have a better opinion of me; after all, up until now I didn't do much to pass for anything besides a good fucker AND a jerk, but still… I told you yesterday that Isabella is different from the other women in the harem. So much so in fact, that I've fallen in love with her…"

"Well, that's going from one extreme to the other, son," I muttered as I walked to Alice with her tisane. She was now staring at us with wide eyes. She probably hadn't missed a single word of our conversation.

"Did I hear well, monsieur le comte? You have feelings for Bella?" she asked, not hiding her excitement. She even seemed to forget about her pain.

"That's right, Miss Brandon, and I intend to keep her away from the Volturi until I think of a plan to put an end to their reign," Edward responded.

"If you allow me, Edward, I'd like to offer my support."

It was Jasper who'd spoken those words. He was standing at the threshold of the infirmary, nibbling a drumstick nonchalantly. He looked stronger already; he wasn't trembling anymore. But then we heard hurrying footsteps in the main area, and the voice of a furious woman.

"Where is that despicable Jasper Whitlock? I will teach him a lesson if he dares touch a single hair on my best friend!"

The next second, a gorgeous blond creature stopped in the infirmary door frame. When she saw Jasper in front of her, she pushed him rudely and the convalescent man tumbled to the ground.

"Shit, Rosalie, you should have warned me that you wanted to kill Jasper! I would have tied you up to my Saint-Andrew's cross again instead of bringing you here!" Emmett roared, both contrite and sarcastic.

I bent down to help Jasper to his feet while politely addressing the duchesse, "What a pleasure to meet you at last, Mademoiselle d'Essanges. If you still have a hint of animosity left in you, I suggest that you please reserve it for the Volturi in the future rather than assaulting Mr. Whitlock again. Because it so happens he lost his memory and he wants to make amends for his past violence-"

"Are you sure about that, Doctor Cullen?" the young aristocrat cut me off. "Then how does he know about the dog attack?"

"Dog attack?" the comtesse repeated nervously. "What dog attack?"

"The one you were a victim of, Alice," Jasper answered, approaching the bed and kneeling at my patient's bedside. He sighed, "Will you let me tell you about it?"

Well, after all that's been put in place here, it's about time to get back to E&B… for good :-)

A/N2: there is a lot to be said about you, people out there who read my story but do not leave a review. First, I have no idea about your existence, so I can't thank you for choosing to read Slave over the billions of other stories the Twilight fandom contains. Second, I will never know how fantastic some of you actually are. Except if you pm me, which the lovely Cris did, not long ago. And it so happens that Cris is the most talented writer over FF. Seriously. If you don't believe me, you should go check her story As Children After Play. It is truly THE hidden gem on this site. It is about an abusive Charlie and a protective vampire Edward and it deserves the Award for best quality of writing(in addition to being a very compelling story).

By the way, Cris, thanks for all your encouragements and the sweet rec I came across this morning.

My usual thanks, now, to the "mad skilled" Just4ALE who is so good a beta that she makes my stories look like they are not translated from French. But they are, and if you want to talk about them or about the French culture in general, you should come leave a comment on my thread in the Twilighted forums (a thread started by the devoted Furious Strength). The link is on my profile page... RosaBella, I know some of your followers talk about Roman architecture on your thread, maybe some of you have something to say about Versailles? Just a thought.

Until next time...

Milk