--"Fetch the books." It was not a huge, echoing order, but it would have taken more than a 13 year old girl's strength to disobey--
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jaina lay the books down on the table and sat down across from Lord Sirus. The table came up very high, and she felt the presence of the dark man far too near her for comfort. She felt like a rabbit.
Lord Sirus ignored the books.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
Jaina stumbled. "You are the most powerful mage in Anguis."
"Yes." He glanced at her. "'In the world?'" he said, as if reading her mind. "Your questions will be asked whether you voice them or not. Ask them."
"Are you the most powerful in the world?"
"I do not know. Does it matter."
"In Tortall, there is a man named Numair Salamin."
"I know of him. A black robe. We in Anguis do not measure that way." His face an voice was blank, but she could sense the sneer. "I suppose he is more of a mage than I am. Fireworks and lightning." He glanced at her. Jaina was shivering, from fear and cold. She was hungry. "You are used to the life of a princess." There was contempt in his voice.
"My lord." Jaina looked down. Why did she feel so week? What was there about this man that he could control him entirely?
"I brought you here because you have power. You have no skill. You have no training. You have no knowledge. Whether you have talent remains to be seen. Your mother has put you under my rule, and you will do as you are told. I do not appreciate failure. Understood?"
I have done a lot of trembling lately, Jaina thought distantly. "Yes, my lord."
"Did you read the books?"
"I...tried, my lord."
"Tried?" The sneer and contempt was clear.
"I...could not understand them."
"Could not understand. Come here, girl."
Jaina rose from her chair and went to stand by his chair. He rose, towering more than two feet about her. He looked at her again, gripping her chin roughly with his left hand, and tilting her head. Lord Sirus dropped his hand, and with the other, he struck her across the face.
"Understand them," he said. "Go."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He was strong. The blow rung in her ears and burned across her cheek as she ran to her room with the books. She was careful not to let her tears fall on the undoubtedly precious tomes as they taunted her. Weakling. Can't fight back. Can't go home.
Jaina had been a fighter until very recently. She had been hit far harder than this. She had had sword wounds and broken bones, but this was worse. It was like no pain she had ever been through; deliberate and antagonizing. Jaina unpacked a mirror, and saw the bruises across her cheek. With an act of willpower she stopped crying, and read the books, again and again, all night, until her eyes burned and her bones ached with weariness. She watched the tiny spell-globe in the corner, the only one she couldn't control, lighten with dawn. Inch by inch, she learned what the books had to tell her.