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“You are allowed to go around the property except for the guest house.”
He has a guest house? It was dark last night, so I couldn’t have seen it even if I’d tried.
Now that he mentions it and has specifically told me not to go there, my attention is piqued. Curiosity is morbid, like a hungry animal demanding a piece of meat. It would’ve been better if he didn’t warn me in the first place.
“You’re not to leave the house.”
“I’m not your prisoner, Adrian.”
He raises a brow. “You are what I say you are. Titles hold little to no value and it’s up to you how you use them. If you prefer to call yourself a princess over a prisoner, by all means, do. The fact remains that you’re not allowed to step a foot outside unless escortedandwith my permission.”
Did he just say escorted?“What exactly did you say you do again?”
“I didn’t say what I do.”
“Well, you should, because I’m not fully grasping these insane measures.”
He narrows his eyes on me and Ogla stares at me hard, as if I’m a petulant child whose hands she wants to smack.
“What?” I say to them both, then take a sip from my coffee. “I’m asking a genuine question. If you don’t want me to know, fine, but if you’re somehow a spy and I act against etiquette, you can only blame yourself.”
Adrian calmly places his cup of coffee on the table. “Leave, Ogla.”
I stiffen at his deceptive quietness. Maybe what I said was also considered talking back. I wasn’t snarky, though. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t.
Ogla glares at me, and even with her attitude, I’m ready to beg her to stay. I don’t want to be left alone with Adrian right now.
The door closes behind her with a finality that echoes in my chest.
The air shifts, thickening with unspoken words and tension that can be cut with a knife.
I remain completely motionless, my fingers wrapped around the cup of coffee, but I don’t dare to take a sip.
Adrian's frame becomes larger than life. He’s still sitting, yet I can almost feel his shadow looming over me like doom. “What did I say about talking back to me?”
“I didn’t mean to,” I blurt. “I was only asking.”
He stands and my spine jerks upright as he looms over me. I keep staring at the unfinished toast I left on the table, hoping that I will somehow become it or the cup of coffee or any of the utensils, just so I can escape his scrutiny.
Adrian slides both his fingers under my chin and lifts it up. I want to look away, and not solely because of the general discomfort his eyes give me. Now, they’re more concentrated, harsher, as if he’s been collecting all his disapproval with me from the moment we met until now.
“You do not disrespect me in front of the staff. You do not disrespect me. Period.”
“Okay.”
“I said to lose that fucking word.”
“Fine. All right.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“No?”
“Why was that a question?”
“I don’t know.” All I’m certain about right now is that I want him to let me go.
The more his skin is on mine, the harder I think about the nightmare. The way his body violated mine and how I didn’t fight.
