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6. Meet Your King

Author: Nicole Taylor
last update Last Updated: 2024-03-08 13:24:14

Yasmine was silent as she put makeup on Rebecca’s face. The silence was heavy around Rebecca and though she wanted to break the tension, she couldn’t find the words to do it right.

After Yasmine was done doing Rebecca’s makeup and brushed her hair for her, she excused herself to find clothes to wear herself. This left Rebecca sitting on Yasmine’s bed, staring at her fingers as time passed and her anxiety grew immensely.

Her lunch with King Syrus was getting closer and closer. She could feel the countdown as if the hands of a clock were inside her throat.

Tic-tic-tic.

It was this anxiety that made her blind to the fact that Roseanne and Layla had entered the room. Layla was already dressed in a white flowy gown that wasn’t that different from the one Rebecca wore. Rosie was completely naked since she’d just got back from her long bath. She dripped water everywhere as she padded over to the closet. The towel wrapped around her waist was comically small.

Layla curled her lip. “Ugh. You’re getting the floor all wet!”

Rosie didn’t stop her trek.

“I can get you wet if you’re jealous,” she yelled over her shoulder, grinning mischievously.

Layla’s face went bright red. She glared at Rosie’s back, clenching her fists at her sides. Her body went tense as she stopped in the middle of the room, cursing Rosie, who’d disappeared into the closet, with her eyes.

Layla’s eyes flickered to Rebecca’s. It was too late for Rebecca to look away and pretend that she hadn’t been looking at the other woman.

Layla tsked. “Nice dress. You’re just so excited for him to rail you, huh?”

Rebecca blanched at the thought. She didn’t even know what to say to the crude statement. But Layla wasn’t looking for an answer. She rolled her eyes and sat on her bed. She pulled a box from beneath it and pulled out a frayed book. Rebecca couldn’t quite make out what the title was from where she was sitting, but she could see that there was a shirt-less man on the front holding a woman. They looked like they were trying to kiss but something was keeping them from doing so.

It seemed ironic that Layla would be reading a romance novel when she seemed like the last person on earth who wanted to fall in love. It was also ironic that she was stuck in a harem for a man that seemed revolted by affection.

Rebecca looked away. She went to rub her face to alleviate some of the burning, but she remembered she was wearing makeup just before she was about to mess up Yasmine’s hard work. She lowered her hand and clenched the dress’s fabric in her fists.

A few minutes later, Yasmine and Rosie emerged. Yasmine changed into a yellow dress that fitted to her curves. While it was form-fitting, it was the most modest of the dresses the girls currently wore, covering most of her skin.

Rosie had picked a soft pink dress that flared out like a tutu. It certainly matched her personality. She spun around in it, trying to imitate a ballerina but failed to execute any kind of move to resemble a dancer.

She laughed as she tripped over her own feet. Breathless, she stopped to give a bow. When she noticed that no one was laugh, she frowned. “You guys are no fun.”

Yasmine gave a small smile. “Sorry. It’s probably nerves.”

Rebecca agreed. She also didn’t know how to view Rosie either. She didn’t know if she was someone she could trust or she was putting on the innocent act and was a horrible person. Out in the wastelands, you couldn’t trust anybody. It felt strange and unsafe to throw all the lessons she’d learned out there when she was here. She’d be stupid to let down her guard now.

Layla ignored them as she read her book. It was the first time Rebecca had seen her look so calm.

A knock came from the door. A moment later, a female Crow soldier opened the door and stepped inside.

“He’s waiting for you.”

There was no question as to who “he” was. The girls didn’t hesitate as they walked to the door. All except Rebecca.

She watched the other girls pass her by. She waited until she was behind them all before she took her first step. As she followed them out, looking anywhere but at the Crow soldier, she felt a piece—a sliver—of her old life fall away.

As if she were turning her back to the life she once lived, she had to hold her head high so that she didn’t run screaming back into the room to beg for her freedom.

There was no going back now. She was in the lion’s den and it was time to face the lion head on.

***

The long hallways felt much shorter when she was heading to her doom. She barely looked at them this time, too anxious about the upcoming meal. Of course she wasn’t going to be able to eat. Her stomach almost heaved at the thought of food. However, she did want something to drink. She’d been so thirsty that when she bathed she’d thought about drinking the bath water. That was a bad sign as any.

Unlike her, the girls weren’t at all nervous or hesitant. They walked gracefully as one, moving like water with no obstruction. She tried to mimic them. She kept her head held high, her arms poised in front of her and tried to be as graceful as she could. She wasn’t though. She felt like a stumbling babe trying to walk for the first time. Syrus hadn’t been wrong when he’d pointed out her unfulfilling figure. She was gangly, slim in all the wrong places, and her elbows and knees were as sharp as the knives she used to carve out of stone.

Thinking of her knife, she thought of the mercenary Raven. He was another person on her list that she wanted to take down. She wanted her goddamn knife back too. It would be a pleasure to take King Syrus out with it.

As her thoughts turned murderous, they arrived to the dining room. It was next to the “throne” room, the one where Rebecca had first met Syrus. This room was similar except there was a large long table with many seats around it. There were large arched windows that overlooked the city.

Years ago it might have been a beautiful view but now it was merely desert and the strange leaning buildings that looked on the verge of collapse. The yellow tone of the outside world clashed with the inside of this…”castle”. It was two sides of a coin—two different realities that shouldn’t co-exist.

Rebecca stopped just before the large dining table. She stared at the large windows, first out of them to the world that she’d come from and then at the windows themselves before her gaze pulled further back to take in splendor of the room. It was gaudy. A blatant show of wealth and power while the people outside suffered.

The room key-ed out and what was left was the man sitting at the head of the table. He was relaxed, almost slouching in the chair as he basked in a glory that had been handed to him. He hadn’t worked for anything he had and he would never work to keep it. All he had to do was say it and it would be his or his soldiers would get it for him.

Syrus didn’t so much as smile as the women of his harem greeted him. Jasmine was the first one to go to him. She lowered her head.

“Good morning, my King.”

Syrus held out his hand. Yasmine bent and kissed the tattooed knuckles. There were letters upon each finger. Rebecca only knew how to spell her name. She couldn’t read.

Yasmine backed away and took the seat next to Syrus’s. Layla went to Syrus and did the same as Yasmine. Rosie did the same as well though she also rubbed her face upon Syrus’s hand like a cat. She looked like she might start purring as well.

There was a faint break in Syrus’s cold exterior. For just a brief second, his lips lifted in what could have been the start of a smile. It was gone just as quickly as it came. His eyes went even more cold if possible and he waved Rosie away like she was a mutt trying to beg for scraps.

Rosie wasn’t at all bothered by it. No one could rain on her sunshine. She scurried to sit at the table. With all of them seated, it only left one thing.

It was Rebecca’s turn.

The whole time she’d been watching at the front of the table. When all of the girls were no longer the forefront of his attention, Syrus turned his cold gaze toward Rebecca. She didn’t want it. She didn’t want to be the center of his world for even the briefest of moments. She didn’t even want to be in his orbit.

That cold gaze raked over her. She didn’t know what she should do. It seemed odd and too assuming to go up to him. She couldn’t greet him like the other girls. It was too personal. She was but a stranger.

And it wasn’t like she wanted to do that either. She wanted to keep as much distance between them, remembering his harsh words that were almost like a threat now. He could have returned her. He could have kicked her out last night, but instead, he’d placed her in his harem.

Maybe it was because his libido and his carnal desire were too strong for his tiny little brain. It would be the first or the last time a man was lead by his penis. Now, what he said last night felt more like a threat.

There isn’t anything you can do to stop me. Not even your horrible looks can dismay my sinful inclination—this need.

Syrus’s eyes narrowed. “Come here.”

There was a knot in Rebecca’s throat. Somehow, her feet were moving without her knowledge or direction. They took her straight to Syrus, the danger that her brain was on high alert about. There was something other than fear awaking under her skin.

It was anticipation that thrummed so high that it made her shiver. The almost electric pulse went down her spine. Her shoulders shook and her fingers trembled. Her naked soles on the cold flooring didn’t help with the shivering that pulsed through her.

She was in front of him. She could see small details that she couldn’t last night.

There was a scar on his upper lip, right next to his cupid’s bow. There was a light dusting of hair on his jaw. It was unkept so he probably kept his face bare most of the time. His cropped hair was slightly curled at the ends—dark thick strands that looked soft to the touch.

And his eyes.

Bright blue eyes that were as cold and unfeeling as ice. But even ice had some life to it. Syrus was as soulless as they came.

His lip curled, showing teeth that could have ripped out her throat if he so wanted. “Look down.”

She averted her eyes. It wasn’t fast enough though.

The anger bled into his face. His once emotionless features turned into something that did make her scared.

His arm shot out. He grabbed her by the neck and yanked her down to her knees.

She choked as she hit the floor. She grabbed his wrist with both hands, gasping as she tried to shove him off. She heard surprised noises from the girls.

“When you’re in my presence you will be on your knees. Do not look me in the eyes,” he hissed, drawing her closer so that their noses were almost touching. “I see no value in you.”

Rebecca struggled against the hold until she started to turn blue. Her hands dropped to her sides and her eyes began to roll into the back of her head.

Syrus shoved her away.

“Yasmine, the next time you try and tempt me with roadkill, I’ll throw you out on the street.”

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