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Isabella
Aweek is not enough time to heal a wounded heart. In my dad’s eyes, life’s back to normal – to a time before he sold me off to the highest bidder like a slab of meat at auction. As long as The King is pleased, who can complain?
“How was your day out, my little girl? Did you have a good time?” father asks, lighting a cigarette after dinner. It’s only the two of us, tonight, with all the bodyguards and staff waiting outside the dining hall, if needed in a hurry.
“I had a wonderful time, thank you,” and I did, too. Every day, outside the palace, is a day to rejoice and to plan my eventual escape from this bullshit. I can handle these insufferable dinners, because there won’t be too many left.
“Dominic tells me you two went to the mall, but you didn’t heed his warnings about leaving early,” my dad says with a sigh. He drags on his cigarette, bringing the tip to an ashtray, but somehow missing it anyway – another problem for one of the many servants under his employ.
“You know how dangerous it is out there, Isabella. You have to trust Dominic’s judgment on these matters. We don’t know what retaliation might come, after Vik’s body is discovered and – let’s face it – they probably already know he’s gone if it hasn’t. They’re dangerous people—”
“Then you shouldn’t have handed me to him and splattered his head across the walls of that hotel room,” I don’t hold my tongue, though I should.
What I find most peculiar is talking about Vik’s murder without compassion. I know it happens, probably daily within the organization, but I’ve never seen that side of it. I guess it’s easier to believe that Vik got what he deserved, over a wasted human life, because of what happened.
“A means to an end that made us more powerful than you could ever imagine,” Dad says. He doesn’t look angry at my outburst, in fact, more pleased at his own self-satisfaction. “We all have to make sacrifices to get ahead, my girl. The sooner you learn that you’ve been given a gift being born a woman, and use it to your advantage, the sooner you’ll understand that the world is at your fingertips. All you have to do is reach out and take it.”
I got no sympathy from Dad the night it happened or now, only justifications about how it’s a good thing.
“That’s all I am to you? A means to an end?” I launch myself out of my chair. I’m halfway to the door, before he speaks again.
“Bella, baby, don’t be like that. Sit down,” he almost sounds compassionate, but he doesn’t put much effort in, apart from the words. Probably happy to get rid of me so that he can carry on working.
Tears fill my eyes. If I stay any longer they might even spill. My fast-paced walking turns to a sprint out of the door and to my room. Dominic tries to stop me, to ask me what’s wrong, but I’ve got no interest in talking to him.
I burst into my bedroom and then slam the door behind me.
The sun’s only just gone down, and although the house is dark, I can see the painted skyline beyond the garden, through my window. The last remnants of the sun are highlighting nature’s picturesque beauty over my father’s land. Soon, the moon will appear, ticking away time and forever on the move.
I crumble onto the bed in the muted shadows of the late evening, fighting back my sniveling tears. Stay strong, it’s only a little bit longer. I remind myself that I’m going to get on the open road soon, and that keeps me sane.
An hour passes, with me so lost in thought, that when I come to my senses it’s dark out. I flick on the bedside lamp and shuffle off the side of my bed. I make my way over to the window to pull the blinds shut.
I see him again, Maddox Braddock, in my garden. He’s feint, a specter in the inky black, and in a blink he’s gone. That’s twice in one day now; first the mall and now my garden.
My first thought is that I’m going crazy. It’s probably one of the night patrols, walking around. What does it say about me then, if I’m continuously thinking about Maddox? Hell, I’m even seeing him when he’s not around…
I scan the shadows, but with the bright room and the lightless night, I can hardly see anything at all. Why would it be Maddox, anyway? What reason would he have to be slinking through the shadows and not coming to my dad via the front door?
Still, the thought inspires something inside me. I feel nervousness in my chest and warmth between my legs. If he is following me, there has to be a reason. What if my dad and Dominic are right and he’s has devious intentions?
The thought occurs to me that there might be nothing sinister about his being here. I bite my bottom lip. Silly desperation wants to see him again, even briefly. My hands instinctively trail up my belly and to my breasts. I squeeze them together, still scanning the shadows, hoping my fertility dance draws Maddox from the darkness.
Nothing happens, not while I am touching myself or when I draw the curtains shut. Still, I leave a narrow gap, a pin-hole sliver. My heart rushes, as I walk back to the bed slowly, seductively.
If anyone’s out there, be it Maddox or not, if they want a show, well I’ll give it to them. I’ll be on the open road soon, anyway, and I’ll forget all about this life completely.
Why not leave my voyeur with a night to remember?
* * *
