A/N: last time I checked, all things Twilight still belonged to Stephenie Meyer. I only own the plot to this quirky/lemony story, and I must warn you that this chapter contains very explicit sexual material.
As usual, I want to thank you for all your lovely comments, and I'd like to mention that this chapter is dedicated to my dear beta Just4ALE, because from the beginning she wanted to have a glimpse at lord Newton, duc de Cresson, and so it is with her request in mind that I came up with this chapter (almost a year ago). But since I have a very twisted mind, maybe the context is not exactly what she was thinking about. Oh well...
Good reading, and please, let me know what you think :0)
Chapter 36
Interlude in the good doctor's apartment, part 2
BPOV
I knew the fight was coming as soon as Jacob opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment about the way Edward was caring for me. He must have done it on purpose to provoke the comte, although I was almost certain it wasn't out of jealousy. After all, I never promised Jacob anything, romantically speaking.
It was more likely that he simply wanted to get his revenge for the way Edward had treated him before. I didn't know the details about the trap my lackey had fallen into the day I attended his torture, but I knew Edward had a part in it. I had to deal with the fact that while the man I loved wasn't a demon, he wasn't an altar boy either...
However, right now I needed to do something to separate the two men fighting at my feet thanks to Jacob's stupid innuendos. But I was paralyzed on the spot, unable to move or even scream to express how much I disapproved of their conduct. Luckily, Esme – who was just waiting for the right moment to intervene – stood up when she saw Edward grab my best friend's collar to make him tumble of his chair. She tried to reason with the two opponents.
"My goodness, what are you doing? Jacob, for heaven's sake! You're proving Edward right when he says that commoners have no manners whatsoever!"
"Do you really think I'm going to let this fucking aristocrat beat the crap out of me, Esme?" my lackey gasped, his fist raised and ready to hit Edward, whom he had managed to immobilize underneath him and was now crushing with his weight.
"Apologize right away for what you just insinuated, Jacob!" Edward retorted, pushing upward to overthrow his antagonist before he could stun him.
If Jacob hadn't been wounded and weakened by his convalescence, my lover wouldn't have stood a chance against him. But clearly he was lacking a lot of his strength and it was probably a good thing, for if he was able to seriously injure Edward, all our plans would need to be revised.
The two men started rolling again, hitting each other blithely with their fists, but their confrontation was interrupted by the sudden return of Carlisle who threw himself into the fray to separate the brawlers. He succeeded in grabbing his son by the waist and pulling him away from my servant, not without almost getting hit as well in the heat of the moment. Esme went to help Jacob up while the doctor let everyone know how irritated he was.
"For Christ's sake, Edward! Think a little bit more before assaulting one of the men you need as an ally! What good will it do if Jacob decides to alienate the male slaves against us instead of putting them on your side?"
The young nobleman stared at his father as if he just suffered a terrible injustice. He was still catching his breath.
"Jacob was being disrespectful toward Isabella. I wanted to teach him a lesson!" he replied through clenched teeth.
Yet he didn't seem willing to look at me; maybe he was anxious to see my reaction to his remark. I finally came out of my stupor when Carlisle had control of the situation.
"That's not true," my lackey said. "I absolutely didn't disrespect the marquise. I just wanted to set the record straight because Edward odiously insulted me."
The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of a disagreement between my best friend and the man I was in love with. I could only hope Jacob would realize this and not elaborate on the catalyst of the dispute. It was better that I explain what was going on to Carlisle.
"Please, Doctor Cullen, don't blame Edward for this unexpected scuffle. And don't blame Jacob either. The truth is I'm responsible for what happened. I wanted to make a joke and it turned against me, that's all," I muttered, lowering my eyes to my plate.
"So Jacob didn't say anything to offend you, Isabella?" the older comte de Morvalle asked.
I was suddenly very ashamed. I realized, in retrospect, that I'd behaved like an adolescent in need of attention a few minutes ago...
"No, Carlisle, I can assure you that much. I'm the one who lacked discretion, and in doing so I embarrassed Edward, and that's why he took revenge on Jacob. I'm truly... sorry," I stammered.
Slowly, I looked up to see if Edward was angry at me but he appeared only surprised by my confession. Jacob returned to his seat at the table and helped himself to a slice of quiche with mushrooms.
"Don't worry, doc," he said quietly, "I don't intend to screw up our chances to escape this damn place just because your son is quick-tempered. However, be aware that if I'm ready to do my part so the slaves can regain their freedom, it's only out of friendship for Bella and because the thought of her being stuck here forever is unbearable."
"I understand your position, my boy, and I don't expect more," Carlisle replied. "Agreeing to help us despite the brutal way you were treated when you arrived in Volterra is very generous from you."
The Volturi's physician was right; Jacob deserved a medal given the circumstances. But he didn't have anything to lose either.
"I'm genuinely sorry that you had to witness such a distasteful spectacle in my apartment, my dear friend," Carlisle went on, addressing my governess and alluding to the quarrel he stopped before it got worse. "Unfortunately, you'll also have to finish your breakfast without me because I must now have a look at Mademoiselle de Courville's injuries."
With the incident that just occurred, I almost forgot the motive of my visit to the good doctor. I watched absentmindedly as Edward and his father approached me. I didn't have time to stand up before Edward leaned over me and swiftly lifted me in his arms as if I weighted less than a feather. Then he carried me to a small room adjoining the infirmary and set me down on an examination table. Carlisle entered behind him and closed the door. The nervousness that overpowered me must have shown on my face for the doctor tried to reassure me.
"This is the room where I take care of the captives when they're wounded, Isabella. There's nothing to be scared of here. All I'd ask from you, if possible, is to try to relax. Edward, can you go get my stitching kit, please?"
"A stitching kit? How come?" I interrupted, panicked. "I thought you were going to make me look like a living mummy with a dressing..."
While Edward went to fetch the kit, Carlisle explained. "First I'm going to verify the state and depth of your lacerations, Miss Swan, but I might indeed elect to use stitches rather than a dressing. It would definitely be less uncomfortable for you anyway."
There was no arguing about that. If I could do without a bulky dressing, I certainly wasn't going to complain. I began to loosen the cords of my shirt and I removed it so the doctor could access my back. I kept the piece of clothing tight against my chest to hide my bust; it was one thing to strut half-naked in the slave tamer's quarters, but it was a completely different one to expose my feminine attributes in front of another man, even more so now that I no longer considered myself in the Volturi's possession.
Carlisle started to feel my delicate and sensitive skin, from my neck down my spine. Wherever the surface of the skin was torn, I could feel a more intense burning under the touch of the physician's skilled fingers. Edward came back with the stitching kit and soon I could feel his hands brush my skin too. A strange tingling ran through me whenever he touched me; it was almost embarrassing.
"You did a good job when you disinfected the wounds, Edward," the comte stated after assessing the depth of my injuries for several minutes. "But in my opinion it would be more convenient for Isabella if I sutured the lesions rather than make her look like a mummy, what do you think?"
I couldn't see my lover's angelic face but I heard him sigh. "It's going to take you hours, Carlisle. And there's as much damage on her legs, you know..."
"Let Isabella decide for herself, then," his father suggested.
It was about time they asked for my opinion; during their discussion, I felt more like an object rather than a person sitting in front of them. Did they act like this with all the other sex slaves? I didn't want to think about it because it was shocking in many ways.
"As a matter of fact, Edward, the decision should be mine, it seems," I couldn't help but repeat with a bit of belligerence in my tone. "And it so happens that I see many benefits if I choose Carlisle's alternative."
"Are you aware that if you choose the stitches, you'll have to lie down and stay still on this table for several hours, Bella?" he asked as if he doubted my ability to think about the consequences my decision involved.
"So what? I don't see what the problem is," I retorted. "How are some few more hours going to change your plans? It's even less comprehensible given that I heard you tell your father that Jasper and Emmett are not leaving the city until tomorrow..."
I turned on the exam table to face my companions. Carlisle too was staring at Edward with confusion.
"I must admit I don't understand either," he said. "Wanting to start a revolt is very noble and chivalrous of you, son, as it is for the benefit of individuals who don't deserve their current fate at all. But there's no need to rush things, or at least I don't think there is. For the moment, what matters most is to take care of Isabella according to her wish. Besides, you can help me if you want to speed things up. I'm sure the marquise would rather it be you who sutured the lesions to her legs."
Upon hearing the doctor's words, I stared at Edward, speechless.
"Don't look at me like that, darling," he said with a crooked smile. "I like to educate myself and learn new skills. So it's normal that I asked my father, once, to teach me how to make stitches and suture some wounds. Although I must say I didn't have many occasions to practice..."
"In that case, there's no time to waste!" I replied point blank. "Stop looking for excuses to deter me and start working, both of you!"
"You can prepare Mademoiselle de Courville, Edward. I'll get the rest of Alice's anesthetic tisane so the procedure is done with as little pain as possible."
Fucking shit, I didn't consider the possibility of the additional pain that would be induced when my skin was sewn. I only thought about the fact that this way of treating my injuries would allow me to continue to have sex with Edward. I was really a stupid girl. How could I be so dominated by all things related to sex?
Come on, Bella, it's natural, in your case, to be obsessed with sex. How could you have room for anything else in your mind with Edward at your disposal, willing to fulfill all your whims?
I noticed that he was standing in front of me and watching me with a peculiar smile.
"Instead of looking like a mummy, you'll remind of a patched rag doll, Bella," he commented, shaking his head imperceptibly.
He put a pillow and a blanket on the table and made me lie down. Then he removed my boots and pants. I wrapped myself in the blanket while waiting for the doctor's return.
"Yes, Edward, I can easily imagine that I won't be very tempting after your father is done with me, but thanks for pointing it out anyway," I said sarcastically as I turned on my stomach.
Edward's remark was certainly not going to improve my mood...
"I didn't mean to anger you, sweetheart," my lover sighed, "and I don't feel like I will be more capable of resisting you after your back is treated. But believe me, making love will be the last thing you'll want to do in the coming days, when your wounds begin to heal. So I hope you didn't have any ulterior motive in choosing my father's alternative..."
How could he utter those words if he didn't read my mind?
"Of course not! Carlisle mentioned that I'd be less inconvenienced in... in my movements," I spluttered.
"He's correct, but only in theory. The discomfort caused by the stitches may also prevent you from moving, actually," he argued.
Jeez, he sounded like he really wanted to discourage me. It was so annoying.
"No matter the pain, it could never be worse than what I felt when I regained consciousness yesterday afternoon after having thought I was dead. If I can't move an inch after the stitching, so be it, I'll settle in a bed in the harem's dormitory and I'll ask the girls to come to me so I can explain your plan, no big deal!"
Edward's expression became suddenly more concerned.
"Bella, when you speak to the captives, I'd like that your friend Rosalie be with you, in case the others show animosity towards you when they learn the nature of our relationship," he said gloomily.
At that moment, Carlisle came back with the tisane and put it on a small cabinet next to the pillow my head was resting on. He grabbed Edward's shoulder and led him away to discuss how they would work on my wounds, or at least that's what I assumed for I could barely hear their whisperings. Why the hell were they talking so low? I stood on my elbows, seized the cup of beverage intended for me and drank it in one long swig. Had I not swallowed the liquid so fast, I might have realized this drug was nothing like the one Edward had me drink at his place, but now the cup stood empty and only a funny taste lingered in my mouth.
I started to feel dizzy and when I tried to turn over to warn the good doctor that something was dreadfully wrong with me, I saw with horror that the walls were rushing towards me. I was going to be squashed! The cup I was still holding slipped from my fingers and smashed on the floor next to the examination table; the sound of the porcelain breaking into a thousand pieces alerted the father and the son of my distress. They rushed to my bedside; unfortunately it was too late to help me. I couldn't utter a single word and the voices of the two men were less and less distinct. I thought I heard Edward swear and call his father a fool for leaving his most powerful drug within my reach. The next second, I was engulfed by darkness...
ooooo
"For ten golden coins, you can come closer and admire this creature with delightful curves who would damn all the saints in Paradise. Come on, gentlemen, what are you waiting for? Give me your purse and you can have an eyeful of the most beautiful specimen of woman of all the island of Candie."
The eunuch Felix approaches me and pulls on the veil of muslin used to partially cover my body. I find myself completely naked in front of all the men sitting in the bleachers several feet away from the platform on which I'm standing. I can't move at will because I'm tied and spread-eagled to an X-shaped cross. My feminine attributes, which until this very moment were only relatively visible through the gauzy fabric, are now exposed and prominent because of my humiliating position.
Those among the spectators who can't see well enough have to spend money to get on the platform so they can appreciate my treasures from a closer standpoint. They can even touch me if they're willing to pay a higher price. They are such a bunch of perverts and pigs!
Being the Volturi's sex slave, my body no longer belongs to me. I'm a gold mine for Aro who uses my legendary beauty to garner mountains of crowns. In exchange, I'm not forced to sleep with him; however, I have to let any chap with deep enough pockets touch me. I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but sometimes I manage to come if a guy has wandering and skilled hands.
One of the men sitting in the stands gets up and goes to Felix. He's quite tall and well-proportioned with straw-blond hair and blue eyes, but his features are nondescript, at least by my standards. Regardless, he's dressed like a prince, and his posture reveals beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's part of the nobility.
"And what would you allow me to do to this charming damsel for fifty gold?" he asks boldly, exhibiting a huge pouch to the eunuch.
It's the first time that an individual offers so much money to get access to my charms, and Felix seems confused. He examines the stranger from head to toe and nods approvingly.
"What's your name, young man?"
"I'm lord Michael Newton, duc de Cresson d'Alembert, and I'd like to judge this exquisite young woman's sensuality for myself. So will you let me taste her nectar if I give you the contents of this sack?" he asks again, throwing the purse at Felix's feet.
A rumbling rises in the stands. The men attending the display must be jealous of the duc de Cresson and they show it blatantly. All of a sudden, another watcher stands up and steps toward the platform. He's holding not one, but two leather bags in his hands. I know this guy; it's Jacob Black, the stable boy at the Volturi's castle. He leaves the domain from time to time to wander God knows where, but I never thought he would wind up here at Candie. It must have taken him weeks to travel so far. I'm puzzled. Where the heck did he find the money to grant himself the privilege to touch me?
"There's more than twice what Mr. Newton is ready to pay for a glimpse of the true value of Isabella Swan in these bags. I think it gives me the right to enjoy this slave before the duc, displeased as you shall be, Felix," the valet says brazenly.
The eunuch is too stunned to answer anything. Jacob climbs on the small stage and presents his toll next to the aristocrat's. He walks past the duc d'Alembert and approaches me. I can clearly see the lust in his big black eyes. My heart is racing. What is he going to do to me?
"Not so fast, Jacob Black!" a deep and velvety voice calls from the crowd of voyeurs.
I slowly turn my head in the direction of the man who just spoke. He's standing up as well but seems in no hurry to come forward and explain himself. To his credit, he gives the impression of being more than a mere mortal, what with his arrogance and his physique reminiscent of a Greek god. He's Edward Cullen, comte de Morvalle, another employee of the Volturi, only he doesn't spend his days in horse's manure, heaven forbids! No, he's in charge of taming the women of the harem. He wanted to take care of me when I first arrived in the palace, but Aro had other plans for me so he told him to leave me alone. It's been several months that I'm living on the island of Candie in a mansion with the eunuch Felix and the page Alec, both of whom are constantly watching me to ensure that I don't run away. What can I say? I'm a rare and valuable commodity...
Edward Cullen's presence at Candie is just as odd as Jacob's. The stable boy turns upon hearing his name. Seeing Edward motionless, arms crossed over his chest and gauging him with an almost contemptuous expression, he asks, "What do you want, Cullen? Don't you get enough from the women of the Volturi's harem? You also need to put your hands on the marquise de Courville, huh?"
"You're not worthy of putting yours on Isabella Swan's goddess body, dirty lout! I have the financial means to make a counter-offer to Felix if it's what it takes to keep you away from the marquise!" the comte de Morvalle retorts, trying not to lose his composure.
"Yeah, because of course you think you're better than me, you aristocratic asshole?" Jacob replies, unable to remain calm any longer.
"What do you have against the aristocrats?" the duc de Cresson asks with an affected tone while stepping closer to Jacob. "You smell of horse's dung fifty miles around! My opinion is that only someone from the nobility should have the right to touch this young woman full of promise of pleasure..."
"You think you're superior to everyone else just because you have a title and the king may decide to come shack with you!" the valet snaps. "But it doesn't matter in the slightest when it comes to pleasuring a woman!"
"What I think, Jacob, is that Felix should ask the men in the assembly to wager so as to prove that we, from the aristocracy, know better how to take a woman to cloud nine," Edward suggests, walking toward us at last.
The eunuch frowns. "Bet on what exactly?" he questions.
"Bet on which one - me, the duc de Cresson, or Jacob Black - will manage to give the most pleasure to Mademoiselle de Courville within a limited time. Say... fifteen minutes. Those who wager correctly will triple up their wager since we are three competitors, and you'll take the money from those who lose their bet."
The castrato's face brightens. "Excellent idea, comte. There's a lot of money to make here, not to mention that it will be very entertaining to witness such a demonstration..."
"I also think that the one who helps some of the men in the crowd win their wager should get a reward," the duc de Cresson states.
This guy is ominous somehow and I hate the idea of letting him enjoy my body, and I hate Edward for proposing this bet in the first place.
"The duc d'Alembert is right, Felix," Jacob concedes. "I suggest that the one who's the most competent in matter of orgasms be allowed to spend tonight with the marquise."
"Excellent idea!" the duc exclaims.
His thin voice isn't attractive at all. If I were also to bet, I'd say the man doesn't stand a chance of making me climax. Fucking shit, I'm not even sure he'll be able to make me wet...
"There's one last thing to fix, then," Edward concludes as he walks toward me, who has been, if I may remind you, naked for the last ten minutes.
If this insolent had any respect for me, he would change my position. But no, he stands in front of me as if he's contemplating a work of art. Then, at last, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and uses it to blindfold me. A refreshing darkness replaces the too intense afternoon sunlight.
"You've seen enough as it is, Isabella. Good night."
Right after hearing the slave tamer wishing me good night, I feel fingers stealthily caressing my breasts. Afterwards, however, several minutes elapse during which I'm only aware of the noises around me. Obviously Felix is taking the bets in the audience, but I don't know where the three men are. They can be cocky all they want, but pleasuring a woman is not as easy as it may seem... and it's extremely embarrassing to think that Edward's trick will prevent me from being biased. The contestants are going to remain silent throughout the trial and I won't have any way of knowing who is stroking me. Unless Edward tried to get me acclimated to his touch a few minutes ago...
"May the first contender take his position!" Felix says very loud after the long wait.
I hear footsteps coming toward the cross. I should have paid attention to their way of walking when I still had a chance. Damn it!
"I've got an hourglass that empties in fifteen minutes," the eunuch continues. "It's large enough for everyone to see the sand flow. Therefore you can't cheat, gentlemen."
Felix must also have given instructions to the men in the assembly not to call out the names of the opponents during the event, but I still perceive a rumor in the bleachers. The spectators are in all probability exchanging salacious comments among them. I listen carefully, trying to determine where the first participant is. To my left? Behind me?
The answer becomes clear when I feel two hands brush my right calf and then slowly wander up my leg until they reach my inner thigh. The hands then begin to massage my sensitive flesh in a way that induces a warm sensation down there. My heart starts to beat faster, and even though at this instant I'd rather be anywhere else, I feel the moisture forming and flowing between my folds in plain view. I'm mortified, yet simultaneously I would like that the hands stroking my thigh to venture closer to my slit, and on my clit for good measure. But instead, the man who's arousing me exponentially starts the same journey on my other leg. Eventually, though, my two legs have received the same treatment and I'm indeed very aroused and very wet to prove it.
I can barely move my limbs, as I mentioned, but I can slightly move my hips if I'm stimulated the right way. Unexpectedly, my entire pussy is sucked into the mouth of the man who must now be kneeling in front of me so as to taste me. I let out a moan of content. My God, what if it's lord Michael Newton who's able to make me scream in pleasure? Is it possible that it could be this stiff aristocrat who's making me react like a courtesan? What this mystery contestant manages to accomplish with his tongue is so good that I move my pelvis involuntarily in an attempt to feel it sink further inside me. After a long while during which the mouth of the unknown man savors my cunt like a delicacy, carrying me to the brink of orgasm but without reaching it, it finally assaults my clit, sucking it with just enough ardor, and this does the trick. I climax instantly, restraining myself not to scream like a slut.
"Your time is up, contender number one," Felix states while I'm still riding the waves of my orgasm, arching my back, my bundle of nerves still between the lips of said contender.
But upon hearing the eunuch, he releases it and I feel a stream of air between my thighs.
"Participant number two, it's your turn now," my guardian proclaims.
A dull thud warns me that he just spun the hourglass. This time it's very easy for me to locate the man who's going to attempt to beat the record set by his rival because he grabs my breasts from behind the cross. The way it's designed, only my back rests against it and I could hypothetically be penetrated by two guys at once. But again the men would have to pay a fortune to make this fantasy come true.
If the manner the second contestant took hold of my bust is predictive of his future performance, I don't think he's going to impress me at all. His moves are jerky and abrupt; I can't even call them caresses, fucking hell. If he thinks he will arouse me like this, he's totally mistaken. It really looks like the shenanigans of a sex maniac who only wants to take advantage of me to satisfy his baser instincts.
Suddenly he stops squeezing and tugging my nipples and I feel him trying to insert something – a dildo in all likelihood – in my anus. This is NOT going to happen. He's not allowed to talk, but I am, and he will quickly learn what I think of his crude behavior.
"You're not going to beat any record in trying to sodomize me, you moron!"
He removes the object from my lower hole, but only to position it at my entrance. Fortunately I'm well lubricated now, thanks to the orgasm I had a few minutes ago, otherwise he could never manage to shove his fake penis into my pussy. Indeed, the dildo the competitor is trying to impale me with must be gigantic judging by the difficulty he's having thrusting it in completely despite my high level of lubrication. I'd like to comment again on his lousy methods but I refrain. After all, it's just too bad for him if he's incapable of making me come. It would have been quite simple to just go down on me like the other contestant did... which brings me to the conclusion that the guy working on me right now can't be Michael Newton, for the duc frankly expressed his desire to have a taste of my pussy. But who knows... And if the man is Jacob Black, he's going to prove the two aristocrats right and will be ridiculed for the rest of his life. Crap.
That's where I am in my reflections when at last I feel totally invaded by the dildo. It's nothing enjoyable, let me tell you; in fact it's pretty much the opposite. And just as I begin to get used to this foreign body inside me, Felix says the time is up for the second participant, and the man retrieves the fucking dildo so brutally that I scream in pain. Shit, does he want to tear me apart, or what?
I hear protests from the crowd. The band of voyeurs had an eyeful, but the fact remains that some men in the audience just lost their bet even before the trial is over. I'm dying to find out which of the three rivals doesn't know how to properly arouse and pleasure a woman. This man should be ashamed of himself and I'd rather never have sex again than become his mistress...
"Last contender, it's now up to you to pleasure the slave Isabella more than once to beat the record set by the first participant," the eunuch announces.
There's a heavy silence in the audience. Someone approaches me, and like earlier I feel a surreptitious caress on my breasts. I don't know why but it makes me smile. If it's Edward who did it as some kind of signal before the beginning of the contest, then it can only be him touching me again...
My heart starts pounding, even though I don't know what to expect. The next second, something cold and metallic lands between my breasts and begins to roll down. I have no idea what it is, but the passage of this object rolling on the surface of my skin induces a delightful tingling which resounds directly in my lower abdomen. The wheel now follows the outline of my left breast and it's like my blood is going to boil in my veins in the next minutes. I throw my head back and I moan openly. The closer the wheel gets to my hardened nipples, the more intense the voluptuous sensations become and the more I feel my pussy swell with desire. I'm ridiculously wet but there's nothing I can do to relieve the sweet aching in my core. I need friction in order to free myself from the increasing tension.
At the same time that the spiked wheel passes straight on the tip of my nipple, I feel fingers teasing my clit and once again I'm carried away by a very powerful orgasm. I can barely catch my breath because the unknown man who provided me with so much pleasure is already trying to arouse me anew, using a riding crop, which I easily recognize because it's not the first time it's been used on me. When the crop strikes my skin, the slight pinch I feel is quickly replaced by an enjoyable sensation and I soften like gelatin. My heart goes wild in my chest, and I become even wetter as I feel the lashes raining non-stop on my breasts. I can't help but tug at my ties, so close I am to combusting. I'm going to explode in a matter of seconds. I just need... This is it! The whips no longer hit my nipples; they now target the apex of my legs. Arrrrgh! The tip of the crop strikes closer to my pussy. I'm so aroused that I'm afraid I'll faint when my clit is under attack. And that's exactly what happens...
ooooo
"For God's sake, Bella, say something!" my nanny begged with a desperate voice while patting my burning cheeks.
I couldn't make out why she was so anxious. I was just waking up after a very peculiar dream, wasn't I? I opened my eyes wide to see where I was. The last thing I remembered was drinking a liquid that stunned me. I was no longer on the exam table; I was lying in one of the infirmary's beds. Esme wasn't the only one at my bedside; Jacob, Edward, Carlisle, and even Jasper were there. Jasper was sitting on a chair between my bed and Alice's. They all looked concerned.
"Why are you all staring at me like that?" I finally asked.
"Bella, sweetheart, you scared us big time!" Edward exclaimed, gently passing a hand on my forehead.
"Why? I drank the tisane and fell asleep, that's all," I replied, confused.
"You didn't just fall asleep, Isabella," Carlisle said. "You spent the last twelve hours in a coma-like state. And it's my fault, I must confess..."
Since I didn't respond and just kept staring at the father and son with a puzzled expression, Edward continued. "The tisane my father put next to your pillow is a powerful opiate, Bella. You only needed to drink a little sip of it, whereas you gulped it all down, and in a very short time, to top it off. Carlisle should have warned you when he brought it to you."
"Well, did you at least stitch my wounds while I was unconscious?" I asked flatly before thinking of checking for myself. After all, I was naked under the quilt...
My question made my lover smile.
"Yes, love, we've been working on your back and legs all morning long and part of the afternoon as well. You'll see for yourself that we did a good job when you're back to the seraglio and have access to a full-length mirror. However, you might feel some discomfort when the effects of the drug dissipate completely, but you already know this..."
The seraglio... I'd totally forgotten I had to return there as soon as possible to warn Rosalie and the other captives about what we were planning. I hoped they'd be willing to cooperate and wouldn't disclose anything to Jane. But I probably worried for nothing. What girl in her right mind would want to continue to live in slavery when the opportunity to start over elsewhere was presented?
Not long after I came back to my senses, I left Carlisle's apartment with Edward. He helped me get dressed, and while doing so he told me that Jasper had spent the whole afternoon talking with Alice. The comtesse de Marillac was no longer resentful toward the former slave tormentor and he took advantage of this turn of events to court her. What a strange turn of events indeed...
When I reached the women's quarters, I saw Rosalie talking with Kate in the hall. They both seemed dismayed. Was it because of me? It was very unlikely. They were probably unaware of the panic I caused today in spite of myself...
Rosalie saw me and rushed in my direction.
"Ah, Bella, I'm glad you're back at last! Something terrible happened during your absence and I can't-"
"What do you mean? What happened?" I cut her off swiftly, impatient to learn the reason for her despondent face.
"Tanya tried to kill herself..."
Didn't see this one coming, did you?
Wow, who knew Bella would have a better taste of the St-Andrews' cross than Rosalie? All right, it was only a weird dream, but still...
I certainly hope lord Newton isn't such a douche in reality...
A huge thanks to my beta Just4ALE for being brave enough to deal with all the smut I've been sending her for almost a year and a half now. Kudo girl :0)
Now, I guess I'm getting old (or maybe just too distracted by a lot of things happening in RL) because I almost forgot to thank nise7465 for rec'ing my story in one of her latest chapters of Impact. Thank you my dear :0)
Until next time.
Milk