“You’re not so bad like this,” Rico patronized as he guided her up the twisting staircase, “With your scar hidden, I’d even say you look…delectable.”

  Jaw wound tight, eyes fixed straight ahead, Lumi said nothing. Doom settled like a stone beneath her sternum, threatening to consume her whole. Rico’s jabs were as inconsequential as a mosquito’s bite when weighed against what lay before her. She had neither the patience nor the capacity to entertain his ploys.

  The wooden steps creaked underfoot, barely masking the revelry below. Another night of debauchery had begun. The joyous laughter and clinking of glasses were a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within her.

  At the end of the climb, the bedchamber awaited. Its heavy door creaked open like a mouth waiting to swallow her whole. Lumi hesitated on the threshold, her gaze sweeping the room.

  A canopy bed dominated the space. Draped in crimson silk, it shimmered like fresh blood. An open arch revealed a lavish lavatory with a porcelain tub that gleamed beneath candlelight. Beyond heavy red curtains, a balcony overlooked the tangled slums below. The air smelled of incense and the sea, but there was something else, something she couldn’t place—a lingering rot.

  “Make yourself comfortable, Lumi” Rico purred, leaning in close enough that his breath ghosted over her shoulder blade. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of this room.”

  She whirled around, the question burning her tongue. Before she could draw breath, the door slammed shut. Only the echo of his voice remained.

  Her heart drummed in her ears. What did he mean by that? Why would she be seeing more of this room? What did Rico know that she did not?

  She needed air.

  Crossing to the balcony, she threw the doors ajar. Her lungs stretched to accommodate a large gulp of the saltwater breeze that whipped by. She breathed it in, letting it cleanse her insides.

  The ocean lay before her, vast and utterly indifferent to her predicament. Waves crashed against tall bluffs, ships docked at the pier, the slums hummed with commotion.

  And Lumi was right back where she started three years ago—broke, hopeless, caged in a pleasure-chamber. The weight of her failure settled heavy on her chest.

  Escape had never felt more unattainable. With every passing moment, her dreams slipped further out of reach.

  But not entirely.

  Not yet.

  Slipping the dagger from her sleeve, she turned it over in her palm. She squinted as it reflected the moon’s beam back at her. She tucked it out of sight, into the fold of her stockings.

  This was her chance to undo the chaos of the last day, to earn back the gem that was stolen from her, tenfold.

  The thought struck her with unsettling clarity; all she had to do was kill him. A quick jab of her dagger into one of his arteries, and it would be done. She had never taken a life before, but it couldn’t be that hard, could it?

  The door creaked open, and her courage faltered. She should have melted into the shadows, poised to strike when he least expected it. But her body betrayed her. Rooted in place, her limbs refused to move.

  His footsteps were unmistakable. Heavy, deliberate. She remained perfectly still, keeping her back to him. Perhaps if she pretended he wasn’t there, he would vanish.

  The balcony door scraped open, followed by the unmistakable weight of his presence. The heat he emanated pressed against her like a suffocating fog. She did not turn nor speak, and the silence stretched.

  “We meet again.”

  His rasp cut through the tension. She felt him step closer. And then his fingers traced up her arm. Her skin was still raw from the wax, but goosebumps rose over her flesh nonetheless.

  “You look…lovely.”

  It was an odd thing to say—he stood behind her, he could not see her face—and the way he said it made her tremble. His deep voice carried a hint of breathlessness.

  Her mind screamed at her to act now, before it was too late. Unsheathe the dagger, spin around, and lodge it into his throat.

  She couldn’t do it. Paralysis had her in its clutches.

  All she could focus on were those fingers. Calloused, rough. The way they stroked her skin, like she was already his, like this wasn’t the first time.

  “You got your gem back,” she ground out, “Why are you doing this?”

  He dropped his hand, but the heat of his touch lingered. “What am I doing? I’ve paid for your service. You wouldn’t deny me the pleasure of your company, would you?”

  His words hung in the air, laced with an unspoken command. It was so very cruel of him. He had to know she would never willingly share his company. He had to know she had no choice but to obey.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The bitterness rose in her throat, “As if I have a choice in the matter.”

  “I see.” The warmth of his presence grew, wrapping around her like a stifling blanket, "Turn around. I want to see you."

  She should have resisted. She should have. But her body moved before her mind had a chance to protest. One simple command, and she was already obeying.

  As she turned, the space between them seemed to vibrate. She felt the buzzing on her lips, her breasts, low in her belly. She was caught in the intensity of his stare again. Dark, like a storm.

  “Your face.” The frown that crossed his features was instant. Along with the narrowing of his eyes, and the stiffening of his jaw. “The scar…”

  His words were ice. Cold, and sharp. As though the very sight of it offended him. Lumi’s breath caught in her throat. She could not tell if he was slightly irate, or very much murderous. Her gut told her it was the latter.

  Even in this state, he still found fault with her appearance? She had been stripped bare, waxed, painted, dressed like a doll. Every detail arranged to meet whatever standard he held. Yet, none of it was enough.

  Something raw stirred in her chest. It was silly. So very foolish. She should be angry—no, she was angry—but the ache in her throat caught her off guard. Her eyes burned and her jaw ached.

  She wanted to weep.

  “Was the paint not enough?” she asked.

  His gaze darkened, lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s not the scar that bothers me.”

  He stepped closer. She thought he might reach for her again, touch her as he had before. Instead, he took her hand. His grip firm, but not painful.

  “Come with me.”

  Lumi’s heart skipped a beat as she was tugged towards the door. She did not resist as he pulled her into the lavatory. Her eyes flickered anxiously over the basin, the mirror, the tub. Everything was pristine, a suite fit for an emperor.

  Everything, except her.

  He released her hand and reached for a washcloth. She felt dizzy as she watched him run it beneath a stream of water. She should’ve protested, should’ve fought back, but her body was not cooperating tonight.

  All she could do was stand there as he ran the cloth over her skin. His touch was slow, deliberate. Every stroke felt like an unraveling as he wiped away the paint, layer by layer.

  He did not stop at her scar. His fingers moved with precision, clearing away the paint from the other side of her face, too. Even the gloss and color from her lips were gone, leaving her lips raw and unadorned. Every pass of the cloth against her skin stripped her bare.

  And there she stood, facing him. No armor, no mask. Just the truth of who she was. Her pulse hammered in her throat. The room felt too small, too suffocating.

  He moved to stand behind her. Her stomach twisted as she caught sight of her reflection in the glowing mirror. Her face was raw, red.

  His fingers moved through her hair, undoing the tight, intricate weave of her braid. Her white-blonde locks tumbled free, wild and untamed. They spilled around her shoulders in a chaotic mess.

  Why was he doing this? To strip away whatever illusion of beauty she was granted for the night? To remind her of what she truly was? The humiliation nearly devoured her. She couldn’t bear to meet his stare. Not now, when he was pulling apart the only semblance of dignity she had left.

  He was done, and still, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her eyes remained fixed on her own reflection, even when she felt the weight of his stare boring into her.

  The rage that might have pushed her to reach for her dagger was nowhere to be found. There was only emptiness. Numbness.

  His voice cracked through the silence like a whip, “Look at me.”

  It was an order. An unmistakable command. And as she had before, she obeyed.

  As soon as she met his gaze, she wished to look away. But something in the heat of his stare held her captive. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or feeling. The fire in his eyes made her feel like she was being seen in a way that went beyond her skin, beyond her scar. He was peering into her very soul.

  She wanted to retreat. To hide. And yet, she couldn’t look away.

  He tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging slightly. Each movement sent a jolt through her scalp. She shivered violently.

  “You don’t need to hide any part of yourself, Lumi. Not for me.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. He knew her name—though she never gave it to him. The way his voice wrapped around those two syllables made her toes curl. Then his words cut through the fog.

  His anger wasn’t directed at her scar, but at the paint that was used to hide it. He wasn’t mocking her. He was telling her she was enough as she was.

  She couldn’t breathe. She felt exposed. Vulnerable.

  Before she could find the words, the edges of his mouth curled downwards. His gaze darkened, the mood shifting in an instant. He stalked around her, moving to stand before her, blocking her view of the mirror.

  “What is this?” his voice was dangerously low.

  His thumb pressed against her cheekbone, dragging over her delicate flesh. The heat of his touch felt like a brand. And the way he handled her—like she was something he owned, something that belonged to him—made her blood rush hot. A flush spread across her skin, unwelcome.

  “Who did this to you?”

  The bruise, she realized. The mark left over from Rico’s fist. Still fresh and tender. It was strange how something so recent felt like a lifetime ago.

  “It’s nothing,” her voice trembled.

  His behavior baffled her. She had come expecting one thing, and got something entirely different. What did he want from her? She had assumed he sought to humiliate her, to make her pay for her petty theft.

  His odd concern indicated something else. Something that didn’t sit right with her.

  “Nothing?” His laugh was cold, devoid of humor, “This is not nothing.”

  She tried to pull away, to find reprieve from his intensity, but he held her in place.

  “Why the fuck do you care?” she snapped.

  He blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

  She knew she shouldn’t speak this way to the man she was to share a bed with tonight. Perhaps she was pushing her luck. Tempting fate. Perhaps she would pay for her coarse language ten times over.

  In that moment, she didn’t care. She was tired of his scrutiny, tired of being stripped bare beneath his gaze.

  “You heard me,” her voice was steady, “You may have me for tonight, but that doesn’t mean you know me. You’re just another arrogant man who expects everyone to fall at his feet. You wouldn’t begin to understand the world I come from. Stop pretending to care.”

  He didn’t flinch at her words, but something did flicker in his gaze. Something she couldn’t name. It wasn’t anger, nor was it indifference.

  “You’re right,” he said after a beat, “I don’t know you. I shouldn’t care. You’re just a warm body for the night, and I’ve been dying to try you out.”

  Before she could muster a response, he swept her off the ground. He carried her across the room like she weighed nothing at all. A few deliberate strides later and he laid her down on the bed. Her hair fanned out around her like a halo of chaos.

  He loomed above her, dark eyes studying her with an unsettling intensity, as if contemplating how he wanted to have her.

  Oh gods, what had she gotten herself into now?

  hi readers

  if you've gotten this far, thank you so much. I really appreciate you taking the time to read my book and I hope you love it as much as I do. I would love to hear from you. What are your thoughts so far--who is your favorite character? what are you most looking forward to? what do you predict will happen next?

  I update on Fridays, and if you'd like to unlock early access to chapters, I post on patreon too every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

  ~galthewriter