Chapter 41

I stared once again through the thick glass, curtained almost entirely except a single strip of light. The curtains hid me well as I watched down below, the clear view of the stables, horses and all.

But I didn't pay mind to the majestic steads that were better kept and more loved then most people could ever hope to be. No. My sight was trained on the freckled girl who glistened in the sunlight.

She looked like how people described goddess'. Made of light.

Brown eyes turned golden in the light and her usual bland hair absorbing the sunlight. But most of all, it was the way her skin reflected the light. Like a trophy on a high shelf, no need to seek to others for its apparent glory.

Her whispy brown hair flying behind her as she looked around the stables. She was frowning, yet I still thought it was beautiful.

I knew who the frown was for.

The very same person who had all her smiles and love. Someone I both loathed and cared for at times.

But the girl who I thought was the recipient of that smile didn't step out of the stable doors. Instead, it was the new boy who had one all the maids hearts. Even mother praised him at times. Claiming he would make the perfect knight.

I found him detestable, and to my delight so did she. My lovely Isabelle. Of course she hated him. She knew I hated him. And I was her master so she would hate him too.

But then I saw it.

It was like a crack in my arrogant heart. One that insighted an ugly truth I had never acknowledged.

There was a sliver of a smile on her face. A bloom on her cheeks. It was so beautiful, but I wanted nothing but for it to stop.

Stop it!

You can't smile at him!

You're mine!

Suddenly the girl was in front of me, kneeling, her hands shaking, red and blistered as she curtsied. A cold look in her eyes as she looked at me and spoke.

"Forgive me Master. I was wrong. Punish me". There was none of the warmth she held for the boy earlier in her.

"I don't want to punish you", I crouched down to meet her at eye level, grabbing her arm to pull her up, but she refused. "Please I don't want to hurt you"-

She gasped, pain evident in her face as she fell to the ground. Her clothes were in tatters, and the tattered cloth was soaked in deep red blood, scars outlining whip marks scattered across her petite back.

I felt a surge of panic as I reached towards her, freezing when she flinched. I felt cold metal in my hands and looked down to find a whip covered in blood. With a shock of realisation I dropped it.

"I didn't mean to do this! I- I didn't mean to hurt you" I felt a stabbing pain in my chest as I saw the deep red glaring scars, painting her. But no matter what I did, the closer I came to her the brighter the colour became. The more I felt I resembled someone I loathed with every inch of my body.

My father.

I woke up with a gasp of relief. Relief that it was a dream. It wasn't real.

The sun had not yet risen and neither had any of the servants it seemed. There was an unsettling quiet in the air and I couldn't calm myself with the frightening images still haunting me.

I wanted to see her.

Safe. Unharmed.

I pulled on my robe, knowing well that this may not be clever but as the master of the house nobody could question me.

I had her placed in the closest servant quarters to the nobles residence. I knew why I had done so. And so did anyone who was here long enough to understand.

When I made it to the place I was hesitant.

Would she be awake? If so, what would I say? How could I explain myself?

As always I heard her whispers. The intellect that I could never truly acquire, honed by year's of experience. Her soft voice whispered cunningly.

'But she is yours. Your property'.

I opened the door, finding it's creaking intolerable as I stepped in and closed it firmly behind me. I felt an uncomfortable feeling in my chest at the idea of it being so easy accessible.

Yet here I was. Exploiting it.

The room was empty, bare except a chair, wardrobe and bed. My eyes mostly focused on the figure in the bed. Relief relaxing my body as I walked towards the her, pulling the chair along with me and sitting before her sleeping body.

Her closed lashes, rested firmly against her cheeks that we're flushed a light pink. The slow rise of her chest as she breathed. It was lovely. A sight that could never tire your eyes.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there watching her breath lightly as her lashes fluttered here and there, eyes moving in her sleep. I was surely transfixed by her.

And then she turned. The blanket that covered her slipping and her back became exposed.

When I imagined her body. I thought of old scars, healing skin and broken surfaces. I was sure it would look like such but I had been proven wrong. Maybe because she hadn't been harmed for so long but…

Her skin had healed. Not perfectly. But the majority of the marks were gone. And in its place was a smooth delicious surface. I hadn't realised I had reached to touch it until my hands met the surface of her warm skin and she flinched. More than likely at my cold hands , but I didn't care. It was smooth and so soft. My fingers melted into her flesh.

But like a slap I recalled the trauma of my own actions. The pain I had inflicted on this beautiful person. This lovely, wonderful person. Who loved me once so very dearly.

I pulled away.