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“Oh, I almost forgot!” Nala says, pulling out a jewelry box from the pocket in the front of her apron. “Jakub wanted to make sure you wore these too.”
Handing the necklace with the key to my chastity belt back to Thirteen, I take the box from Nala and open it. Nestled inside the blue silk-lined jewellery box is the necklace Twelve had stolen from Jakub’s room of curiosities. Resting on the side are the matching earrings. I look up at Nala in shock, and even Thirteen has moved closer to take a look. Her eyes widening with as much surprise as mine.
“He wants me to wear these?” I repeat.
“Yes,” Nala grins. “Put them on then.”
“No, I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. This is too personal. They belonged to his mother. Twelve stole the necklace, wearing it to get The Masks’ attention, and look what happened to her.
I can’t wear them. I won’t. They’re tainted in Twelve’s misery, her blood.
Nala’s face drops. “He thought you might say that. He said if you refuse then he’ll make sure Leon finishes what he started down in the dungeon with Konrad, and that this time he’ll be taking the key from Thirteen and joining in too.”
“But I—”
Thirteen reaches for the necklace, plucking it from the box and stepping behind me and fixing it in place before I can protest further. Then taking one of the earrings, she hands it to me.
“Looks like Thirteen thinks you should wear them too,” Nala comments.
Sighing, I take the earrings from Thirteen, putting them on. “There, happy now?” I ask, feeling as though I’m wearing a ball and chain, not a beautiful necklace with years of history embedded in it. The weight of it sits heavily on my chest. What does this even mean? Knowing Jakub, it’s just more mind games. More ways to get into my head and fuck me over. I don’t want to wear something personal to him. I don’t want to be blackmailed into attending a dinner with three men who’ve done nothing but constantly hurt me. I don’t want to be here. My eyes well with tears and I blink them away, hating myself for another moment of weakness. Thirteen notices and pulls me in for a hug, crushing me against her chest. When she finally lets me go, her eyes tell me everything she can’t say with words.
I’m sorry. For everything.
* * *
“Good evening, Nothing,”Jakub says, getting to his feet as I step out onto the sunlit terrace, the afternoon’s rays surprisingly warm on my skin. Leon and Konrad both rise too, watching me approach, the intensity of their gaze making my skin prickle with fear. I look down, unable to maintain eye contact, but not before noticing what masks they’re wearing.
Plain black masks.
The very same masks they wore the day they stopped being children and became the men they are today. Goosebumps scatter over my skin as I approach the table. Even Nala has lost her childish excitement and has become sombre as she takes up her position beside her grandfather, Renard, who is standing next to a trolley stacked with plates of food ready to be served. I’ve not seen him since the night I was stripped bare in the Grand Hall. He looks older. Tired. I can’t help but notice how Nala slides her hand into his and squeezes gently. What’s going on there?
“Take a seat, Zero,” Konrad says, pulling my attention away from the pair and back to him. I make the fatal mistake of looking up. He gives me a dazzling, welcoming smile, but his eyes tell a story of darkness and lust, blood and pain. I know what he’s thinking, wanting,craving…
Me, bleeding and cut, whipped and bruised so he can ease his conscience with whispered words of affection and care. It’s all lies.
Gritting my jaw, I snap my gaze away and take a seat, focusing on the pretty bunch of wildflowers that make up the low table centrepiece, their perfume reminding me of the open fields near my cottage back home.
Home.
Refusing to let my thoughts wander to that dangerous place, I mentally prepare myself for what I know will be a difficult few hours. If The Masks have taught me anything, it’s not to expect the unexpected but to expect thefucked-up.
“Renard, Nala, serve up the starter then leave. We have things to discuss and can manage the rest on our own,” Jakub says tersely, his voice tight.
“Yes, Sir,” Renard responds, briefly looking at me. I can see the concern he has for me, and whilst I should probably feel more afraid because of it, all I can see is opportunity. Perhaps he’s the person who’ll help me get word to Kate? I put a pin in that thought, resolving to approach him later.
If I get a later, that is.
“You’re very thoughtful,Nought,” Leon says, emphasising his chosen name for me as he takes a sip of his drink, watching me over the rim of the glass.
“No more than usual,Leon,” I reply tersely, clasping my hands tightly in my lap as I remember how he’d cut me, spread my blood over his cock, came over my back, then called meChristy.
“And on form tonight, I see. Are you looking for more punishment?” He taps the table with his finger. “Or perhaps you’re the type who likes dishing it out, hmm?”
It’s warm, and the sun’s rays are pleasant on my skin, but it doesn’t stop the goosebumps rising at the memory of what I did to him. “No. I’m nothing likeyou.”
Leon smiles, winking. “Oh, I don’t know, it’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for...”
We fall silent as Renard and Nala begin to serve the food, quietly moving around us. Renard fills each of our long-stemmed glasses with white wine, but his hands shake so much that the wine spills and Nala takes over for him. I see the look that passes between The Masks, but can’t seem to interpret it as Nala finishes pouring the wine then places a plate of oysters before each of us.
