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He was a monster, it was true.
But he felt that guilt. And that seemed significant.
And now he felt the echo of her pity across the space.
“It is utterly no consequence to me,” he said. “I felt nothing about it then, and I feel nothing about it now. It was just another con. We never felt anything beyond disdain for them. We walked away with their money. We always had the power. And that is the important thing, Athena. You can sell anything but your power.”
“That is terribly cynical.”
He leaned back in his chair, all of his focus on the screen. On her. “Iam terribly cynical. Life has given me no reason to be an optimist. I have had successes, and I have had failures. For all that life gives you, it will be standing in the wings waiting to take something away. There is no use getting attached to anything. And I have found these years spent here have at least been... Mine. I am in control of all around me. The first and only thing to ever defy that control was... You.”
“But you didn’t have to come get me from the hovel. Why did you?”
He looked down at his hand. At the thick scar tissue there. “I wanted you.”
She looked up, her face in full view of the camera. “For what?”
“I didn’t know. When I find something beautiful here on the grounds... I often take it back with me. I am isolated here and... I look for things to pass the time.”
He had some ideas of what to do with her. Certainly. But he had known, even then, that he would never seek his body’s ultimate desire with her. But he had gotten a great deal of pleasure from simply having her near.
“I need to know more about what’s to happen next.”
“All in good time. When I decide.”
CHAPTER SIX
ATHENARODELIKEshe was being chased. By her father. By his men.
She rode until the breath left her lungs.
Until the green around her blurred together into a rush of velvet.
She had no idea what she was doing here. No idea what would happen next. And it was beginning to feel... Unbearable.
One thing she had taken for granted living with her father was that at least she understood what her day-to-day routine would be.
At least, prior to his determination to marry her off.
There had been a sameness. A deeply expected ebb and flow.
She had risen from bed, she was prepared for the day. Her mother provided her with an excess of beautiful clothes and each day she would be outfitted several times. Her hair combed until it was glossy. If her mother wished to have spa treatments, they would have spa treatments. If she was in the mood to read by the pool. They would read by the pool.
Her doll...
Not a daughter, perhaps.
Just a hollow thing to fashion as she chose. No choice, no mind of her own.
Not here.
Perhaps here she was breaking out of that plastic mold. Perhaps here she was finding who she was.
And though it was not answers about her past, she felt that it brought her closer.
Cameron spoke to her often. Throughout the day. There was always a different sort of treat setting out for her on a plate.
She could not decide if it was a gesture of care or not.
