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The workday was hard even though more zagfers have been hired. I don’t think I have ever done as much scrubbing in my life as I have done today.
I wince with every movement as I walk back to my room. My body is sore, and the skin on my lower arms is red, almost raw, from being put in hot water every few minutes.
Echo is trotting along beside me – the little creature spent most of her day out in the forests and fields of the Ilnais estate and is covered in mud and an assortment of forest foliage.
I cannot help but sigh. Hopefully, I can clean up Echo before she gets onto my bed.
As I round the corner that leads to my room, I think about the argument I had with Rhiucra early today.
My heart drops into my stomach as I think about the implications of what Rhiucra said.
Luocre is an assassin.
It all makes sense now that I know what he is. His behavior makes sense, and the behavior of everyone around him makes sense.
If I were Luocre’s mother or sibling, I might also avoid him. If I were a zagfer serving him, I might also quit my job and run.
Who wants to live and work in the same household as a killer?
So why does all this turn me on so much?
Rhiucra is right. I am an idiot. He’s an assassin, for pity’s sake!
I wasn’t really surprised to find Luocre in my bedroom after my workday ended. I have become so used to him following me that I would have almost been more surprised had he not been here.
He’s a murderer. He’s dangerous. He probably knows a thousand ways to torture and kill me.
As I bustle around Luocre, pretending to keep myself busy, I shudder at the memory of the way he used his knives on my body.
Knives he has probably used to kill people. Knives that probably had blood on them.
And now, doesn’t that mean that I have blood on my hands, too? Does feeling this way about a literal assassin mean that I am as bad as him?
Probably.
I cringe as I think about how many people Luocre must have killed to have become what he is now.
I am sure that he has always been pretty fucked up – only a genuinely screwed-up person would willingly become an assassin.
But to continue doing it for years, which is what Rhiucra implied, is a testament to what he is inside.
A soulless killer.
And yet, all you want him to do to you is tighten his grip around your throat, like he did before.
You want him to cut off your airways while he slips two fingers inside you until you pass out from pleasure.
I suppress a moan as I push past Luocre, who stands silently in the center of my room.
I am not sure why he is still here. We haven’t spoken to one another in what feels like a very long while.
Why does he look so confused?I think to myself as I study his handsome face. I want to moan again, but this time out of frustration.
I am frustrated at myself for finding him attractive when I really, really should not.
I am also frustrated at myself for putting myself in this position. Luocre has made it clear several times that he is not above physically hurting me. And now Rhiucra has confirmed the danger I am in.
And what the fuck is going on with Echo?I think about her behavior when we walked into the room.
