The Palace Ch. 05

Before entering Master's manor, I could not have imagined the luxury he took for granted. I'd known only my own home, the small wooden cabin where my father had cared for my sister and me, and then the inside of my room at the Palace which itself had been larger than my father's cabin. But now, as I sat in hot water up to my breasts, attended by a maid not much older than myself who affected not to be curious about who I was and why I had bruises on my thighs and bottom and why I had been escorted up here by my Master himself and why I was in Master's chambers and not guest quarters, now I began to understand the gulf that existed between my life of scarcity and the excess of the Governor's world.

When Master had left me with my handler, after his declaration that I would be accompanying him home, I had been certain I would never see—or be touched by—the man again. Despite his assertions, his promises, his attempts to convince me that life with him would be far preferable to life at the Palace, no small part of me was convinced he was just toying with me. My handler had stared at me for a long moment, as bewildered as I, and then had blindfolded me and led me on the meandering route back to my room. Once there, he again stared at me, seeming disappointed that I had earned no discipline marks. As he prepared to set to my evening bath and meal, my door had burst open, and a man in formal clothing—not the whites of a handler—had appeared with a sealed letter for my handler and a bundle of brown cloth that he revealed to be a dress.

"Girl, you've been sold," the man had announced, and while my handler scanned the contents of the letter, the man forced me down onto my bed and beat me with a belt before taking me from behind, pausing for a moment to explain that my new master had authorized this treatment and that he would be glad I had been taken in hand before being sent along with him. The shock and betrayal I had felt that my Master, who had so earnestly insisted that I would never be used by another, would turn me over so easily to this horrible man had seared my soul, more painful even than the assault.

I had no choice in any of it, but regardless of the consequences, I intended for my Master to feel the full brunt of my newfound hatred.

And he had.

And the pain in his eyes and the sincerity of his apology had left me reeling yet again, but the bizarre affection I had begun to nurture after our third night together was rekindled.

Why was this man so confusing?

And so, overwhelmed by the hugeness of his house and the haughtiness of his maid, I had retreated to the only safety I knew now, my Master's presence. His transparent joy when I had asked to come to his chambers had been unexpected. Where I had feared irritation for contradicting his order, followed by punishment for embarrassing him, instead he had brought me here himself and sent in a different maid to draw my bath and bring a meal.

I had no idea what would happen next.

I shot furtive glances at the maid, who had introduced herself as Glynn and had insisted on helping me undress—as though I could not manage to remove a simple dress under which I wore no undergarments—and filling the bath and even soaping my back! I had cringed at her touch, sure questions would arise about the condition of my behind and just who, in fact, I was, but she had been gentle and detached. The water was growing cool, and more than anything I wished for privacy, but as I reached for a length of towel, Glynn leapt into action. She snatched the towel from me and took my hand to support me as I stepped over the high side of the absurdly deep tub. She allowed me to dry myself, to my relief, and then produced a gown of light blue silk so beautiful I was certain it must be intended for a ball.

"Your nightgown, Miss," she said, settling it over my head. The material flowed over my skin, as tantalizing as Master's hands.

"Nightgown?" I echoed, the first words I had spoken since entering this room. "And you must not call me Miss!"

"But you are a guest of the Governor."

I was too ashamed to reveal that I, in fact, ranked beneath her, a lowly slave forever tethered to this man whom she served by choice. How could I respond? So I held my tongue and acquiesced to her further attentions as she brushed my hair to a shiny finish and tied it loosely with ribbons. She vanished only long enough to collect a light supper of a spicy soup, fruit, and pastry for me. At first, I was only grateful she did not attempt to feed me, but then I was stunned by the flavors, the heat and complexity of the soup, the sweetness of melons exploding on my tongue, and the indulgence of honey-soaked flaky pastry filled with nuts and dates.

Perhaps my Master had not been exaggerating about the comfort of life with him.

Glynn removed all traces of my meal when I had finished and, upon being assured that I needed nothing more, finally left me alone with my thoughts.

I had no idea what to do with myself. I had expected Master to stay with me, but it seemed he had things to attend to after several days away. Would he require my services before going to sleep tonight? My bottom twitched at the notion. The bath had soothed me, but I was still sore from that man's attentions, and Master had used me earlier this evening as well.

My breath quickened at the memory of his kisses, passionate and rough and honest.

I paced the room, afraid to explore and be caught in a place I should not be, afraid to go to sleep, though I was exhausted, only to learn that he had expected me to wait up for him. The carpets under my feet were piled thick, soft and warm, and Master's bed was large and masculine, with a dark wood frame and deep blue sheets folded back over a slate gray coverlet. I could not resist running my hands over the bedclothes. The sheets were fine linen, the coverlet silk-lined furs, the blanket beneath made of wool spun so fine I could not see the threads. Six pillows adorned the head of the bed—six! For one man!—each plump and well feathered.

I wandered out to the sitting room and finally perched on a sofa, feeling ever so elegant in my silk gown. I could not imagine sleeping in such a garment. If this was for sleep, what dresses would he provide for the daytime? I was not used to colors, either. I had worn the simple brown peasant dress my whole life, as had all the other girls I knew.

The left-hand side of the large double doors that led into Master's chambers creaked open, and I sprang to my feet, feeling as though I had done something wrong, though how could I know what was permissible without his instructions? Master entered alone, his hair hanging loose about his shoulders, his shirt untucked. He stopped when he saw me, clasped his hands behind his back, and examined me from head to toe.

"Hello, sweet girl," he said. "You are so lovely. I promised you silks, did I not?"

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

"Did you enjoy your meal?"

"Yes, Master. Thank you." What more could I say? How could I express the confusion burning in my breast, the fear of what was to come, the gratitude to be done with the Palace, the unbelievable decadence of his life compared to my own? How could I ask what was to become of me now, where I was to sleep, to whom I was to answer, what I was to do when not serving him? And could I beg him to give me one night's reprieve, not to demand anything of me for this first night as I grew accustomed to my new surroundings and my new life?

He approached then, held out a hand and touched my face, came closer still until my nose was nearly buried in his chest, tipped my head back with a finger under my chin, and kissed my lips. "You are exhausted," he said. "I am surprised to find you awake."

Was I permitted to speak? I waited for some direction, my eyes locked on his, arms dangling useless at my sides. I did not know how to behave.

"Would you like to sleep, sweet girl?" he continued.

"Yes, Master. Very much." I stifled a yawn.

He kissed me again. "You may speak freely unless I tell you otherwise. You need not await a direct question. That would make for a very quiet life." He smiled.

"Thank you, Master. I did not have any instructions from you, and I thought you would want me to be ... available ... upon your return."

"Not tonight. Go to sleep. I have a few more things yet to do. I had not planned on a four-day absence." He combed his fingers through his hair and retied it at the nape of his neck, fixed his clothing, then fingered the sleeve of my nightgown and patted my shoulder.

"Master, where am I to sleep?" I had found no pallet or cot set up for me, nor any obvious other place I might lay my head.

His laughter startled me, and I shied back. "With me, in my bed. Is that not what I told you earlier this evening? 'I would have you in my bed.' I meant exactly that."

"I understood that to mean you would wish to use me in your bed, Master. I had not thought—I would not have expected to sleep at your side. Why did you instruct your maid to take me to guest chambers if you intended that I sleep with you?" He had said I could speak freely, but his generosity might not extend to anxious chatter. I clicked my teeth together before I made a complete fool of myself.

"I had thought for tonight you would wish to be alone. And, to be frank, I have not yet decided how to explain you to my staff."

I fought down the dread that at any moment the harsh, frightening master I had met four nights ago would resurface. I wanted desperately to believe his professions of affection were real. But I knew he took pleasure in tormenting me. What if he was building me up to new heights only so that my fall would be that much more devastating? "That is very thoughtful, Master," I said after a stunned silence. "And shouldn't your staff know that I am your slave and they need not cater to me? Glynn called me Miss and insisted upon dressing me!" I had not intended to include that last bit, but it slipped out in my consternation.

He murmured something too quietly to hear, though I made out "my sweet, sweet Catalyn" among the mumbled words. "You are companion to the Governor. You are no mere slave. And if I wish my maids to attend you, then they shall."

"Yes, Master." I could hardly argue with that, but I could not reconcile this sudden increase in status with my continued position as a slave.

"Go to bed, my lovely one. I shall join you in due time." He kissed my forehead, his hand lingered against my cheek, and then he turned and left his chambers.

I hesitated but a moment and then returned to the bed chamber, settled myself near the edge of Master's large bed, and tucked one plump pillow under my head. I had not shared a bed with anyone since my sister had gone to serve as a housekeeper, and certainly never with a man. Despite my persistent worry, though, I soon slipped into contented slumber.

****

I awoke with a start sometime later when I tried to roll over in my sleep and encountered an immovable weight against my back. I was pinned in place, on my side, still facing the edge of the bed as I had been when I'd closed my eyes.

"Sleep, sweet girl," Master whispered, and I came fully awake. The weight was him, and it was his arm around my middle that prevented me from turning over.

"Master?"

He pulled away from me just enough so that I could shift to my back, and then he flung his arm across me again, his fingers brushing my breast. A stirring between my legs surprised me, and I closed my eyes and quieted my thoughts, but sleep would not return, and the itch grew stronger as Master's thumb idly stroked my nipple through the nightgown. I thought he must not even be aware of the effect he was having on me, perhaps not even aware of where his hand rested or the motion of his thumb. I adjusted my position, hoping his hand would slip from its perch, but my movement roused him just enough that he scooted closer, pressing his body into my side.

He was naked, and his cock hardened against my hip. A cascade of conflicting emotions brought pressure behind my eyes and desire between my legs. "Master," I whispered. "Master, do you wish to—do you want me to—"

"Sleep, sweet girl," he repeated, his sleep-slurred words trailing off. His thumb stilled.

****

My eyes opened to sunlight. My room at the Palace had had no window, and my work had been at night. It had been days since sunlight had touched my face. I turned my head to see the curtains drawn back to reveal an open door to a balcony. The angle of the sun suggested I had slept quite late into the morning, and momentary panic seized me. What was I supposed to be doing?

Master was not in bed, and I sat up, smoothing the front of my nightgown just to revel in the luxury. The luxury of silk, but even more basic, the luxury of clothing.

I smelled the food before I noticed Glynn had entered the room, balancing a silver tray on one hand and carrying a silver teapot in the other. "Breakfast, Miss," she announced. She set the items onto a contraption I could make no sense of, until she brought it to me and settled it across my lap like a small table. I was to eat in bed? I bit back a laugh at the absurdity. Were high class women so pampered—or so lazy—that they did not rise from their beds even for meals?

Glynn lifted the cover of the tray to reveal a disappointingly familiar porridge, though this was adorned with fresh berries and accompanied by a fluffy roll so fresh steam still rose from it. She set a teacup out and poured from the teapot, lay a napkin across my lap and set a fork and spoon on the tray as well. "Enjoy, Miss," she said, and left me alone.

The porridge may have appeared familiar, but it was as rich with flavor as last night's soup had been. I ate slowly but steadily. I had been fed well at the Palace, but four days of having enough to eat hadn't erased years of poverty, and I was still getting used to not having to share and to finishing a meal with a full belly. Glynn somehow knew when I'd finished and returned as my spoon clinked in my empty bowl. I drained the last of the tea in my cup and allowed Glynn to whisk my tray away.

"Miss, the Governor will be up shortly. He says you are to be ready for him. He trusts you to know what he means, and he has asked me to stay away. Is there anything else you need before I go about my duties?" Glynn kept her head down, looking demurely at her toes, but I caught her smirk, quickly wiped away as she raised her eyes not quite to my face.

Shame rose in me, though of course my purpose was obvious. I had slept in the Governor's bed. I wondered if she knew the full extent of my position or if she truly believed I was the Governor's "companion."

"No, Glynn, I don't need anything else. Thank you."

She took that as the dismissal it was and scurried away. I heard the outer doors click shut, and then a key in the lock.

Be ready for Master. With great reluctance, I slipped out of bed and removed my nightgown. I touched my hair, tied with ribbons but not braided. My handler had braided my hair at the Palace. I could never have created such a neat, tight plait on my own. My hair was soft after Glynn's attentions last night, hanging past the middle of my back. I knew Master liked my eyes, but I had always thought my hair was my best feature.

I decided to risk leaving my hair unbraided and lay on the bed on my back as I would have awaited him at the Palace. Only minutes passed before I heard the doors again, Master's long, booted stride across the marble floors of the outer chamber, and then the bedroom door and his softer footfalls as he approached. Nerves suddenly sprouted in my stomach. I had been pampered and shown love and care last night, but now I would serve my Master as intended, and some part of me dreaded what he might do.

"My sweet girl," he said, smiling his approval. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

"Good. I have been up since before sunrise overseeing preparations for this year's census. The Central District continues to grow as tradesmen and craftspeople come in from the outer districts to live and work. The Capital is the largest city the world has ever seen. Do you believe that, sweet one?"

"I don't know, Master." What did I know of cities?

"I will take you on a tour, and perhaps you will sit beside me as the count begins. My clerks estimate that over two hundred thousand individuals now reside within the city limits, and more in the surrounding villages. In the whole District, we may reach seven hundred and fifty thousand. What do you think of that?" Pride filled his voice as he recited the numbers.

Where he felt pride, I was simply stunned. My village had boasted perhaps five hundred souls. "How—Master, may I ask, how does one count so many?"

Master's delighted chuckle dispelled some of my anxiety. "With time and patience, sweet girl. And many, many clerks." Master sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots. "Come here and kiss me," he murmured, reaching toward me with one hand.

I placed my hand in his and sat up. He leaned toward me, and our lips met in a kiss at least as passionate as any that had preceded it. His lips were rough against mine, and his hand clutched the back of my neck possessively. He pulled away, let his fingers trail over my shoulder and between my breasts, and then stood up.

"Kneel," he instructed, pointing to the floor at his feet.

I slid off the bed to my knees and gazed up at him. I didn't know if I should be frightened. I knew he derived his excitement from my fear, but I believed his demonstrations of love were genuine.

He smiled down at me. "I like your hair loose," he said.

He crossed the room to a chest of drawers and retrieved several items and lay them on the floor in front of me.

A belt, a cane, a paddle.

His smile was gone, replaced by a hard, commanding set to his mouth. Fear oozed into my chest as I studied the implements. He said nothing, simply returned to the chest of drawers, selected several more tools, and brought them to me, adding to the line.

An anal plug. A flogger. A knife.

A shiver coursed down my spine, and the scab on my breast itched suddenly. I fixated on the knife, trembling. "Master, I—"

"Quiet, girl."

Of course he would not allow me to speak freely during a session. I licked my lips and shifted my gaze to his face.

"Choose three," he ordered.

Three to use, or three to put away? I surveyed the collection, then touched the anal plug. He moved it out of the line. I chose the flogger next, and he set that beside the plug. Those were the two most preferable of the six, to me. But what if I was choosing what to eliminate, rather than what to use? I studied the remaining four implements. None was appealing. I hesitated another moment, then reached toward the knife. My hand wavered toward the cane, the belt. I met Master's eyes, silently imploring him to explain.

"Choose," he prompted.

I picked up the belt and handed it to him.

"Interesting," he said. "Lie on your stomach on the bed."

I pushed myself to my feet and stretched out on the bed with my arms at my sides. Master guided my arms up out of the way, tucked my hair over one shoulder, and stroked my head.

"Your hair is so soft, sweet girl." His fingertips traced my spine, and his palm came to rest on my bottom. "Don't move."

He left my side, and I heard the clink of metal and clank of wood as he gathered the implements. He placed them on the bed out of my sight, left me again, and this time I heard a drawer scrape open. It took all my will, and a healthy fear of punishment, not to turn my head to see what Master was doing.

He returned, lay his hand on my bottom, and separated my cheeks with his fingers. He massaged cool oil into the ring of my anus, working a finger in with care. Master could inflict such pain, but he would also grant me great pleasure, and I clung to that even as I dreaded what he planned.