8

It was quite the odd parody they made. A courteous gentleman leading a genteel lady for a stroll in the garden was a perfectly polite, socially acceptable situation if it weren't for the bruises on the lady's face, the iron strength grip on the lady by her captor and the decaying garden. It had rained often enough to leave behind greenery that identified the garden itself but no flowers grew in the desolateness.

Every so often a solider would stumble around them, gaping at the odd pair but none dared approach them. With a quick bow and a nod they would race off. The silence became overbearing for the princess who soon realised there were no songbirds accompanying them in their garden strolls. Everything was dead.

The jacket around her shoulders was loose and smelt strongly of the man. It should not have bothered her. Each individual had their own peculiarities she had never bothered to notice but it was unbearable now. It felt like he enveloped all of her senses like physical vice around her neck. She shuddered, overwhelmed.

The man abruptly paused in front of a long empty marble fountain and graciously settled her against the seating place. His pleasant mien was just farce which changed according to his mood. She never knew when the winds would change and his hand would reach out to strangle her throat or worse his lips... Jza squeezed her eyes shut at the horrifying possibility.

After a moment of silence when her heart steadied from its rambunctious pace she opened her eyes to find her captor sitting across from her with a bored expression. Jza averted her gaze and mutely noted the peacock bench had lost its head in the battle. The fountain should have been surrounded by roses but there was no life or colour in them any more. All that was left in the beds were rotted roses littered with cobwebs. The man plucked a brown wilted rose and fiddled with it for a moment with a strange smile on his face.

"Battle cries, sword clashing with sword, brutal defeat and the winner is raised high in the sky. What glorious battles must have been fought in that arena."

"Gaping wounds, torn ligaments, broken bones. There is nothing glorious about fighting," Jza grumbled with a grimace. Her whole body ached terribly from her previous days of trauma and all the pain was numbing her mind.

"So you say," The man retorted with his usual quickness.

"It is as I say," The girl met his eyes defiantly.

"You remind me of this flower," Tarquin uttered with a light tone after a pregnant pause, "all brittle and bruised."

"But don't make the mistake of forgetting the thorns."

Instead of retorting the man touched the rose lightly on her cheek. The most vicious bruise adorned her face on that side and even the light touch was irritating. And why he needed to needle her with his provoking behaviour was also a vexing thought. The man ended his dalliance with the rose by tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear and placing the rose along with it. The gesture was shockingly intimate but what could a person expect from a man who had no social boundaries.

"I could have salves ready for your face," The man uttered conversationally while Jza scowled back. "But vanity was never your thing, was it?"

The need to reply surged through her but she bit her lip instead. She knew the man would find a way to squeeze out all possible information from her. It was still a mystery how he had found out she wasn't a commoner in the first place. What was it about her that gave her away?

Tarquin's hand picked up one of hers and gently examined her softer hands as if they held a solution to the mystery. Soft they may have been but they were no less abused than the rest of her body. Small cuts littered the surface along with a discoloured bruise or two. Jza tolerated his probing touch as best as she could until she had enough of being treated like a cattle up for sale.

"Would you cease pawing at me. I am not your toy to be fondled as such."

"Never had a toy in my life so I wouldn't know," Tarquin smirked roguishly but it was his words that made her pause and not his handsome countenance. The Prince could be some master reader of other humans but that did not diminish her own skills of observation. His words added more to his mystery rather than resolving any of it. The little clues he left behind did not add up.

"Then you must refrain from treating like an object. I will not be treated thus!"

"You do not have the power to tell me what to do you weak helpless fool. You are mine now. I am your lord and master," The man spat out harshly, his mood changing like tumultuous clouds. He stood up and turned away from her with his strange eyes flashing, "One more word and I shall-"

"You'll what? Force yourself on me?" Jza sneered back. Her insides were feeling just as corroded as the wasted garden around her. Emotionally depleted there was nothing he could do to make her feel anything but annoyance at the moment.

"Yes, why not, I'm often bored," The man shrugged easily and turned around without a frown marring his well formed face.

"We made a bargain," Jza warned hoarsely. If he even took a single misguided step towards she would run. Her body was tense in anticipation. Her hands were as good as tied behind her back but she would not let him gain the satisfaction of abusing her.

"Of course," Tarquin replied pleasantly,"I shall do exactly as the lady bids me to, that is until she entertains me with the barbarian customs she seems to know so much about."

"Is there not a more capable person in your retinue then this bruised, little fool," The princess sneered.

"Yes, but what's the fun in that," The Lord replied, ended the argument decisively and Jza deflated under his pointed stare.

"There- there is much I do not remember but I have the basic ideas," The princess said warily her eyes still darting towards the marble archway that could have been her last hope for freedom. At the gesture the Lord made she haltingly started speaking; about the customs; the rituals; the battles. She continued until her dry lips cracked.

"And that is how Galios conquered the barbarian enemies. As they say the rest is history." Jza ended her tale while the Lord had watched her quietly absorbing her every single word. Jza felt goosebumps rise on her body and the single minded forcefulness of his gaze, "Wouldn't it be best if we leave for your rooms. It will be dark soon."

Instead of replying Tarquin nodded, took her hand and helped her up. They took a very comfortable pace and led her down the marble pathway that entered the large archway of the main entrance. Jza shook her head, "No, that is perhaps the longest way back to the rooms. It would not do."

"Of course, I shall follow your guidance since you know best having lived here all your life," The Lord said amiably.

"How do you know that is a fact. Maybe I am some noble's base-born daughter making her way in the world as a scullery maid. Have you not thought about that? Maybe that's why I was left behind, excess baggage you see. All alone in the world."

"I doubt you would have fought with such devotion for your father's last memory if he had rejected you," The man patted his shirt pocket smugly as Jza watched with his movements with narrowed eyes.

"Maybe, I am the needy, desperate type grappling with my only sense of identity," Jza retorted.

"No, you would have spat in his face. You would never grovel."

With those words he motioned for the guard to open his rooms. Inside Jza was met with a short, petite girl waiting for her with a large hair brush in her hands. The girl bowed sharply at her Lord and circled his captive with narrowed eyes. The two exchanged words in their own language as the maid pulled off the jacket to examine the damaged sleeve. There were already a few dresses laid out for her use.

"She will prepare you for dinner but do not exert yourself trying to talk to her. She knows nothing of your language," Tarquin said and sprawled across the bed facing her. Jza was propped in seat in front of the mirror by the industrious little maid who immediately tackled the problem of her tangled brown hair. The maid did not know of what to do with the dead rose still perched on her charge's ear so she threw it in the vicinity of the bed.

"Do I even need to make an effort? I'm sure your Harem will provide ample femininity to the table. What will they all think if I turned up dressed to the nines?"

"That you're my whore? They already believe so," Tarquin said, flippantly.

"Of course they do," Jza tried to keep her voice even but the mirror blurred in front of her. That little bit of respect she had yearned for all her life as the illegitimate daughter of the farmer's sister was washed down in that moment just like her tears. She blinked hard to get her composure back and her first clear view was of her captor. He was looking at her with such an intensity that she shuddered. She looked away immediately feeling like he was a demon who could steal her soul.

The maid continued to brush her hair languidly unconcerned by the tension simmering in the room. The Lord soon left the room and the women to their own devices.

Dinner was a quiet and sombre affair. The harem members were behaving more soberly for reasons only known to them. Jza had no idea where the rest were residing because only a few of the women were in attendance. They talked among themselves in their own drawling language leaving her with no comprehension of the contents of their conversion. And with her voice hoarse from the hour of talking there was nothing she wanted to say.

The princess was wearing a soft and gauzy evening gown with her hair held up. It was oddly reassuring to feel so well groomed again. The siege had left her with no spare moment for herself and this sort of normalcy when her circumstances had flipped so dramatically was surreal. She knew the ladies in her vicinity had noticed the change when they whispered among themselves, pointing at her rudely. She ignored the curious harpies and kept her gaze firmly fixed on her lap.

When the first course was served Jza remembering the previous attempt on her life found her appetite had left her entirely. Surrounded by the enemy she was never ever going to feel comfortable letting herself trust another innocuous meal again. She tried to lift her spoon up to her mouth but let it drop back into the bowl.

As she stared gormlessly at her soup a hand from her right picked up her spoon. Tarquin casually took a sip of the warm carrot broth and placed it back in the dish with a pointed glance. Jza blinked back until her brain registered that it was the only way she would feel safe enough to eat or drink anything.

She warily picked up her spoon and took her own first sip. The meal continued in the same vein. The Lord would taste each course on her plate with such nonchalance it would have been unnoticeable for those too engrossed in their own meals to care but unfortunately none of the Harem were particularly interested on what was on their plates. Each time the man leaned onto his neighbour's plate the girls' eyes would narrow at his public display.

After the dessert was served the man took a large, slurpy lick of Jza's delicate trifle from her silver spoon.

"A nibble would have sufficed," The Princess rumbled grumpily snatching the spoon back, "I am not used to sharing my cutlery."

"Now what would be the fun in that. A true man always enjoys sharing bodily fluids with lovely young ladies."

"I thought I wasn't your type," Jza's looks were lethal.

"Bruises are not my type," Tarquin replied with a distracted glance. He turned his head away and began a very lengthy and intense discussion with Sofiya. The conversation was once again incomprehensible to her ears and it gave her an opportunity to observe him stealthily. The man had a thin, angular face; slanted almond shaped eyes; a pointed nose. He truly did not look as if he was the part of the nation he ruled. The eyes themselves gave him away instantly but there was something more; a level of aloofness she could feel. It was same sense of outsiderness she exuded in the presence of her captors. She missed most of her dessert while ruminating over this new realisation. It was only when everyone other than herself stood up that she noticed the dinner was over.

"So, you will take the girl with you," Sofiya's sharp nails hit the wooden table periodically.

"I thought you made your position clear about what you felt about her, Sofiya," Tarquin's voice was the chilliest thing in the room even surpassing the cool dessert.

"Yes, I should have thought you would have taken note."

"Do not test me," Tarquin pulled his captive up by her arm dragging her to the door, "You have already disobeyed me once. I will not make light of it again."

With those words he pulled the Princess out of the room.

"I will sleep in your quarters then," Jza motioned around the room as the door was slammed shut. The rooms were devoid of all others as the maid had already vanished. The guard outside their room had not been expecting them and had fumbled while opening the door only causing his master to radiate his ire.

"Argue with me at your own peril. I will send you to the barracks if you desire different company," The man was still quite agitated with his encounter with Sofiya.

"Why don't you? Your life would be much easier." Jza grumbled angrily.

"You are a crafty little katyonak. I have a feeling you shall somehow get away. Best keep an eye on myself" Tarquin entered the bed chambers and pulled his captive alone, "You can sleep on the floor for all I care but I shan't let you go anywhere else. Not near my harem, not my soldiers, nowhere but here."

"You are not worried I will slip away in the dead of the night? I am sure even a blood thirsty man like yourself sleeps."

"Like a complete baby but I know you are going nowhere, and certainly never too far because you will never want to be parted from this little bauble," The man pulled out the shiny locket tantalizingly.

"Give me that," Jza barked, the pain and aches of the day all but forgotten, and sprang towards the man ready to claw his eyes for it if she had to.

"I think not," Her captor grinned and dangled it much higher above her. She jumped on her toes and nearly knocked both of them down.

"You stupid sod, do not play games with me," She pushed him backwards with utter singlemindedness while the man laughed at her daring. He backed away until his rear hit the wallpapered wall.

"You will do anything to get this back," He smirked while keeping his arms raised high enjoying her helplessness.

"It is mine and I demand it back," The girl brushed against him giving him impertinent ideas.

"Come closer and I'll give you what you deserve," His voice was breathy and laced with so much innuendo even she could not ignore and sprang back with an oath.

"I will not be a participant to your vulgarity," Jza hissed with fire flamed eyes cursing the very day he was born.

"You were the one groping me. How could I resist." The man answered innocently and to add fire to the flames wore the locket around his neck. The piece of jewelry taunted as it twinkled in the lamplight.

"I-I- You intend to keep it on, for the night?" Her hands itched but she kept them to herself her face going blotchy and red under her captor's scrutiny. She had behaved like a milkmaid, touching the man with such uncouthness,"I shall sleep on the floor, of course."

"As you wish but I shan't be surprised if you join me in bed soon. You can hardly control yourself, now."

"Keep dreaming, you beast. "

"Indeed, I shall," Tarquin replied mysteriously.