Chapter 6

I could see his fist flying and at the same time I felt a push in my back as the door opened. I was so ready to take this hit, ready to not even avert my gaze when the impact would reach my face. But it didn't. Not only did the door push me out of the way, but there was also a very much not-amused barbarian catching the flying hand of this disgusting individual.

I didn't feel sorry. Not for Velagh, not for this stranger, not even for the fact that I had spread my legs for him so willingly. Everything leading up to his disgusting words was exactly what I had needed to clear my head. The only thing I did feel sorry about was that it had to turn out like this. It was a shame, really. I could have looked back at this whole ordeal with a pleasurable feeling in my guts, but no, this man had to make it weird and disgusting.

Not that I was appalled by the thought of being taken by multiple men filling every hole, but not like this. I was neither a whore nor a slave, I just valued the needs of my body and my mind.

"Out. Now. Or I'll break both your legs." Velagh's voice was calm but there was hidden rage between the lines. Something I had rarely heard, although I did hear it in the past. It stripped away the dutiful mannerisms and the calm demeanor, showing him for what he truly was: A barbarian barely holding onto his morals.

"Fuck," I heard this unwanted man growl, his hand locked into place by Velagh's strong grip that slowly twisted his arm. Velagh pulled him to the side without letting go of him, forcing him outside of the room while he himself slowly entered. Technically, they just swapped places, but in a very tense and dangerous way. If that man had decided to be stubborn, the motion would have twisted his arm completely. He had to oblige. I just slowly moved away from the door to not be in the way.

The door slammed shut and for an awfully long time, Velagh stood there in silence, staring at the door while I stared at his back. I collected myself, and got ready for the verbal slap, but…

"I hope this was worth it," he finally said, his voice collected, calm, devoid of the rage I could hear just a moment ago. I didn't know what to make of this but I just decided to let it rest.

"I need a shower," I answered. Although it wasn't really an answer, just something I really had to do as fast as possible. I didn't want to sleep like this, all messed up with my legs all sticky.

"I'll bring you to the washroom downstairs."

I nodded, and this was the last time we spoke together that evening. He brought me downstairs, but this time he kept his usual distance, mainly because we didn't need to make our way through the joyful crowd of the tavern. There was still a lot going on but the entertainers had left the stage and it had gotten a lot calmer.

I let stopped for a moment as we reached the ground floor, looking at all these people just living their lives. I didn't recognize any of them. The lady that had given us our room key wasn't there anymore, and all the other people were just no one. I wasn't no one. They probably all knew who I was, not because I slept with men left, right and center, but because of my family. Because I was royalty. And no matter what I did, that's all I would ever be.

I felt Velagh nudge my shoulder ever so slightly, reminding me of moving on, and so I did. We ascended another flight of stairs into the basement. The white brickwork was well lit, with a door each to the left and right with little toilet signs on them. Right ahead was another door with a bathtub sign. I entered and Velagh remained outside.

It was different, to say the least. At home, there were always people getting me ready for my baths. They undressed me, put a bathrobe on me, filled the bathtub, and finally led me there. Even helped me get in and then scrubbed me clean. Not that I couldn't do it myself but I had to admit this bathtub was very unfamiliar. It was simple and not as intricate as the bathtubs in the palace. It took me way longer than I cared to admit to get the water flowing. And even longer to get it to an acceptable temperature.

At least I knew how to undress myself and wash myself, or else poor Velagh would have had to fill in for the maids. The thought made me chuckle a little bit. He had seen me naked many times, but his eyes were never interested in my body. He watched over me and nothing more, keeping his distance and just overlooking the situation.

That's probably why the thought of him needing to actively get closer to me in order to help me undress and wash me was amusing. He would hate it, and I would love his hate… if it wasn't about me but just the situation. But at this point, I had to assume that he did, indeed, hate me. And I blamed him for it more than I ever should have. How dare the man of my dreams feel so negatively about me? And just like that, my amusement had faded. Once again I was offended because of my own thoughts.

Idiot. That's all I could think of him. My eyes darted to the door, knowing fully well that it was the only thing separating us right now. I felt so entitled to scream at him, to let my frustration run freely, but at the same time, I thought it wasn't worth it.

I had intended to take a shower, but now I was soaking in the water, leaning my head back onto the headrest to relax for a while. I, after all, had a good experience. The way it had ended had left a sour taste in my mouth but I could ignore that. Maybe I should make an effort to search for a mute next time, just so I didn't need to listen to some disgusting brain rot.

Because the sex was good, I could still feel my body ache, my legs still felt weakened, and I could clearly see the blue marks he had left on my hips. I could still hear the sounds our bodies made, how he slammed against me, thrusting deeper and deeper in an almost aggressive manner. I liked the way he just took me, how he dominated me. It was almost the perfect ammunition for my fantasies. His growls, moans, grunts, the way he was ruthless while at the same time not overstepping boundaries.

Well, until that happened. I huffed. This whole thing kept bothering me and I couldn't really tell why. I wanted to ignore it, but here I was, with my thoughts circling it. Being put on the same low as a whore irked me the wrong way. Part of me wanted to get out of this bathtub, get dressed properly, and go find this man just so I could slap his stupid face. Why didn't I do it? Because I was taught not to, apparently.

If this was the only thing holding me back, it was probably the first thing I had to unlearn. We weren't too far from home, still on the outskirts of our city, and still well within the kingdom, but I wouldn't let this happen a second time. There, lying in a bathtub, offended about my own thoughts, troubled by the experience, I made a promise to myself. One that would get challenged many times.