I felt a chill run up my spine. Whatever else he was, the man wasn't drunk. I had smelled his rotten teeth and his dinner, but there was no trace of alcohol on his breath. "I'm sorry, but I haven't made up my mind as to who I want to marry. If you'd like, I can make arrangements for you to stay at the p-"
"Bitch." He slapped my face, hard, and I could feel blood trickling from where his ring had struck. "You think the paltry quarters I'm in are enough of a sop to offer a man of my caliber? It's an insult, and things will be different when I am king."
I glared at him and started to draw power for a spell. "The position in question is Prince Consort, NOT king, and you are no longer in the running. Unhand me before I administer the burning rage of justice you have brought down on your villainous head."
He smiled, the moonlight glinting off one tooth. His cloth of silver doublet gleamed and I recognized him as one of the suitors Lina and I had laughed at the hardest. I didn't feel much like laughing now. "You won't be so high and mighty once I've had you. You'll beg for more and make me king." He increased the pressure on my trapped wrist, grinding my bones together until I cried out from the pain. This seemed to excite him, and he started to pant heavily as he fumbled with my waistband. I tried to lash out with my foot but he deflected the blow with his free hand and again twisted the wrist he had in his grasp. I heard the snap of bone and knew the situation had gotten infinitely worse, as most spells require physical movements that would be difficult, if not impossible, without the use of my hand.
His grin widened and he pulled a jeweled dagger from a scabbard at his waist. He licked his lips and said, "Let's make this more fun."
Part of my brain was screaming, howling desperately for me to DO something, anything, but I couldn't move. I knew that a cool breeze was hitting breasts as he cut open my tunic, but my mind seemed to be outside my body, watching as if this was happening to someone else. As he was slashing my pants, I mused that he was the polar opposite of Zelgadis. Where Zelgadis had a form many called monstrous, he had the soul of a true prince. This man would be called beautiful by many, but where it counted, he was as twisted and ugly as an ogre from a fairy tale. My body was frozen as he looked at me in nothing but my boots and cloak. He reached for my breasts and I saw my good hand lash out, a solid punch landing on his collarbone without any thought or direction from me.
He spat in my face. "Cunt. How dare you hit me? You're nothing but a worthless whore, just like all your kind." His hand went from my broken wrist to my throat, pressing on my windpipe and bearing me down to the ground, the pressure increasing until I saw spots dancing in front of my eyes.
Just before I blacked out, the pressure eased and I forced my eyes to open, trying frantically to think of anything that would help, that would keep this from happening. His voice was low and silky, a mockery in my ears as his weight crushed me, pinning me as effectively as wheat below a millstone. "Just stay still, pumpkin. You'll like it anyway, and then I'll be king."
"Why are you doing this? I'll never marry you." I tried to speak in a natural tone, trying to distract him. With his body pressed against mine, I could feel that he was nowhere near fully aroused and I hoped to use that to my advantage.
He chuckled, the stench of his breath hitting me like a wave. "You will. He promised that the Council will vote to make you marry the man you seduced into taking your virginity, like the slut you are." As he spoke, lifted his weight to rest on his knees and one hand and brought the dagger to the base of my throat. His body eclipsed the moonlight as the razor sharp point parted my flesh. He dragged the dagger down along my breastbone, leaving a trail of blood to seep out and spread across my chest. He laughed and put the dagger down to run his finger through the cut, the salt of his skin setting the wound on fire as he gathered blood on his fingertips. I gagged as I felt him run bloody fingers over my labia, and I prayed to Ceipheed for deliverance.
"Bitch." He slapped my face, hard, and I could feel blood trickling from where his ring had struck. "You think the paltry quarters I'm in are enough of a sop to offer a man of my caliber? It's an insult, and things will be different when I am king."
I glared at him and started to draw power for a spell. "The position in question is Prince Consort, NOT king, and you are no longer in the running. Unhand me before I administer the burning rage of justice you have brought down on your villainous head."
He smiled, the moonlight glinting off one tooth. His cloth of silver doublet gleamed and I recognized him as one of the suitors Lina and I had laughed at the hardest. I didn't feel much like laughing now. "You won't be so high and mighty once I've had you. You'll beg for more and make me king." He increased the pressure on my trapped wrist, grinding my bones together until I cried out from the pain. This seemed to excite him, and he started to pant heavily as he fumbled with my waistband. I tried to lash out with my foot but he deflected the blow with his free hand and again twisted the wrist he had in his grasp. I heard the snap of bone and knew the situation had gotten infinitely worse, as most spells require physical movements that would be difficult, if not impossible, without the use of my hand.
His grin widened and he pulled a jeweled dagger from a scabbard at his waist. He licked his lips and said, "Let's make this more fun."
Part of my brain was screaming, howling desperately for me to DO something, anything, but I couldn't move. I knew that a cool breeze was hitting breasts as he cut open my tunic, but my mind seemed to be outside my body, watching as if this was happening to someone else. As he was slashing my pants, I mused that he was the polar opposite of Zelgadis. Where Zelgadis had a form many called monstrous, he had the soul of a true prince. This man would be called beautiful by many, but where it counted, he was as twisted and ugly as an ogre from a fairy tale. My body was frozen as he looked at me in nothing but my boots and cloak. He reached for my breasts and I saw my good hand lash out, a solid punch landing on his collarbone without any thought or direction from me.
He spat in my face. "Cunt. How dare you hit me? You're nothing but a worthless whore, just like all your kind." His hand went from my broken wrist to my throat, pressing on my windpipe and bearing me down to the ground, the pressure increasing until I saw spots dancing in front of my eyes.
Just before I blacked out, the pressure eased and I forced my eyes to open, trying frantically to think of anything that would help, that would keep this from happening. His voice was low and silky, a mockery in my ears as his weight crushed me, pinning me as effectively as wheat below a millstone. "Just stay still, pumpkin. You'll like it anyway, and then I'll be king."
"Why are you doing this? I'll never marry you." I tried to speak in a natural tone, trying to distract him. With his body pressed against mine, I could feel that he was nowhere near fully aroused and I hoped to use that to my advantage.
He chuckled, the stench of his breath hitting me like a wave. "You will. He promised that the Council will vote to make you marry the man you seduced into taking your virginity, like the slut you are." As he spoke, lifted his weight to rest on his knees and one hand and brought the dagger to the base of my throat. His body eclipsed the moonlight as the razor sharp point parted my flesh. He dragged the dagger down along my breastbone, leaving a trail of blood to seep out and spread across my chest. He laughed and put the dagger down to run his finger through the cut, the salt of his skin setting the wound on fire as he gathered blood on his fingertips. I gagged as I felt him run bloody fingers over my labia, and I prayed to Ceipheed for deliverance.