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After stopping to collect three more debts, the carriage leaves my village. It’s a tiny place: my village. It’s always been home to me, but I feel a strange sort of disconnect as we leave. The carriage follows a road out of town and into the forest. I know where we’re going now. Even without asking, I know.
Now we’re going to Farwol’s home.
We’re going to his castle.
We’re going to his lair.
I look at him as we ride. Each time we stopped to collect someone’s debt, Farwol warned me to stay put. Then he went with his two men, who are called Fortune and Gauge, and collected the money owed to him. Each time he returned, he seemed surprised to find me still in place. Of course, he left the carriage driver to watch me, but I think he still thought I would try to run.
The problem is that I have nowhere to go.
Even if I did have somewhere, I don’t really want to go.
I sort of just want to stay here.
His body is warm against mine and comfortable. I’m no wilting flower. I know Farwol is as evil as they come, but somehow, I’m not afraid of him. I find his presence calming, almost tranquil. As the ride grows bumpier, Farwol slides his arm around my shoulder.
“Lean your head on me,” he says. “It will be more comfortable.”
I say nothing, but I obey him instantly. He’s right. Leaning on him keeps my head from hitting the back of the carriage. He’s soft and he smells nice and the position makes me feel wanted and secure.
“Good girl,” Farwol whispers, but then he falls silent again. I wonder what the future holds for me. Will I be his slave or his mistress? Will I be his worker or his wanton? There’s no way to tell what a man like him might demand, so I stay silent and try to focus on breathing.
In and out.
In and out.
In and out.
After awhile, I begin to feel tired, and I allow myself to drift off to sleep. When I wake, Farwol is touching my hair, gently playing with the long, dark strands.
“You’re awake,” he says. “Good. We’re almost there.” He doesn’t stop touching me and he doesn’t speak again. I stay perfectly still, trying not to enjoy the sensations pulsating through my body.
He’s my captor.
He’s not my lover.
He’s a bad person: a villain.
I should be scared of Farwol. This knowledge is seared in my mind, yet as his hand moves to my shoulder and begins to massage my skin in soft little circles, I can’t seem to care.
A moan escapes my lips and I jump back, embarrassed.
Ashamed.
I scoot to the far edge of the bench and lean against the wall. Farwol doesn’t react right away. He doesn’t yell. He looks at me for a second and I close my eyes. Now I’m humiliated. A moan? He’s the person who has torn me away from my father. I shouldn’t react to him in this way, yet somehow, my body betrays me.
Somehow, my body aches for him.
Somehow, my body yearns for him.
And something tells me that Farwol knows exactly how he’s affecting me.
“We’re here,” he says. The carriage stops and he helps me climb down. Once I’m outside, he takes my hand and holds it tightly. I don’t resist, but this time, I feel like I should. I should pull away. I glance around at the woods surrounding us. I could run. Now would be the perfect time.
I could run away and go back to my village or I could find a new one. I could find a place of my own, a place to belong. I could find a place to live in solitude and loneliness. I could find a place to build my own world without the restrictions my upbringing placed on me.
Farwol seems to know what I’m thinking, though. “Do not go into the woods,” he says. “There are wild animals. If you’re attacked, no one will hear you scream.”
