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“I’m not ignoring them.” He figured he might as well get it over with because she’d notice sooner or later. “I have a friend staying with me because he went through some stuff.”
Mum scowled. “You mean a whore?”
Inside, Rainier cringed at the nasty tone.
“That’s what you said last time,” said Mum. “You said a friend, but it was a whore. I could tell. I bet it's the one Lance beat up, and you feel sorry for him.”
“He’s not just a whore, and he has had a difficult time.”
“Whatever. I don’t care if he stays in your rooms, but you better not be doing nasty things with him.”
She huffed as she twisted her hair up. Why did she have to be so concerned with what he did while naked? She didn’t care if he had “needs,” but she acted like kinks were disgusting. Probably in her mind, everyone should have sex in one or two positions, and whips, ropes, collars, and things of that sort should never cross their mind.
If she had to be a prude, why couldn’t she do it quietly in her mind and stop trying to make him feel guilty? He didn’t need anybody telling him what to do with his sex life, especially her. If she ever knew about his cock piercings, she’d probably have a stroke, not that he'd dare mention them.
How would she like it if he berated her for being a prude? He’d cut off his pinky finger if it meant she'd never, ever say another word or even hint at things that involved his private life.
“Stop staring at the damn sweets.” Mum smacked his arm and snapped him out of his thoughts.
His face burned with shame because he had been staring at the covered dish she kept on her bedside table, but he hadn’t actually beenlookingat it. His eyes had simply settled on the shiny green crystal while he thought. Why did she even bother to have that when she never ate anything with sugar?
“I bet you still sneak stuff between meals,” she accused him, and shame coiled in his gut like it always did. Not eating the entirety of his meals wasn’t enough. “You’ll get all chubby like your Father and die on me too. Is that what you want?”
“No.” With the way she looked at him, he might as well have been as big as a house. “I don’t eat sweets or anything between meals. I’ve told you this.”
“Liar.” She folded her arms. “Self-control, Rainier. It’s something everyone needs to have, and I doubt you have nearly enough.”
“I do,” he dared to say even though he didn’t believe it himself.
“No, you don’t. You’ll end up fatter and unhealthy, and you’ll suffer from it. You’ll also be like your Father in other ways that I won’t bring up.”
She had mentioned that before, and he wasn’t sure what she meant by it. He assumed Father had a kink when he was alive that she didn’t like, and she thought Rainier was disgusting too. He didn't want to know if Father used to have kinks or not, so he never asked.
“I bet you’ve had sweets lately. Or you’ve been snacking a lot.”
Mum grabbed his arm to pinch, and his earlier hunger vanished as shame punched his gut so hard, he couldn’t even try to defend himself anymore. It never worked anyway.
“You think I can’t tell that you gained weight even though you leave food on your plate? You’re just like your sister, and I know you sneak food in secret.” She scrutinized his face, and he knew what she was checking for. “You never vomit, right?”
“No.”
“Good. Remember, when a person sees you, they take note of things beyond what color your hair is, your height, or what sort of coat you’re wearing. If your clothes are too tight, or if your face is full, they’ll notice. If your clothes aren’t tight, but you’re clearly thick all over, they’ll still automatically know you eat a lot, and a person who submits to such a basic pleasure doesn’t have self-control. Royalty must always have restraint because ruling the Kingdom is a big responsibility. People don’t want to think of their Kings and Queens as lazing around at home while they eat all day. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“I think by your age you should. How many times do I have to tell you? It’s worse to gain weight than your damn kinks because at least that’s not done in the open.”
Why did she have to bring this shit up right before dinner when meals were hard enough? He wanted to skip it entirely, but she’d complain and say he was putting his new whore before his family again which also meant he had no self-control.
He honestly didn’t eat candy or sweets between meals. If he truly couldn’t stand the hunger, he ate a little dried fruit from a stash he kept in his room.
He wasn’t hungry at all when he ate dinner, and he had to pretend to be happy and fine while he talked when needed. The dry salad damn near made him want to gag, and he spent more time pretending to eat from the stew than actually eating.
She always thought he was sneaking stuff, and the only way to keep her off his back to some point was to eat less than her. It also ensured he didn’t gain weight, and he'd maintained himself for some years now since he'd managed to whittle himself down as a teenager. He needed to lose more, but he was often hungry as it was.
He nibbled on the vegetable pieces and skipped the meat and potato. Stew was easy to fake since they ate with a spoon, so he could scoop up some juice and pretend that he was eating something solid. It wasn’t like anybody checked.
It was torture sitting there while his Aunt and cousin ate peach brownies for dessert. Of course, Mum didn’t touch it, and he didn’t even allow himself to look at the desert while he sipped water.
