4

"What's that supposed to be?" The voice is calm. It's clear that Xerxes wants to lull me with that, but he can save himself that. Not that I built a wall. I'm too concerned about what happened. But I'm able to think again. At least a little bit. "I want to go." I try to brace myself against Xerxe's hand, but he doesn't even have to use any strength to hold me in place. So I just blow out the air and look at him after all.

"In that condition?" And now Xerxes doesn't even try to hold back the amusement. A broad grin forms on him and he does look happy. How can that be? When his wife was here, he seemed rather self-conscious. And so I can only look confused while nodding slowly.

And that seems to be enough for Xerxes. He immediately turns to me and leans forward. Makes our faces float in front of each other for a moment. And again I can only marvel at the green. How much energy is in it. I never noticed that before. Or has it only just become apparent now? But I can't pursue that any further, then Xerxes speaks: "And how do you think you'll get home?" The voice is sensitive. Almost coaxing. Nevertheless, it's obvious that this isn't really a question. It's a reproach of one's own Weakness without saying it directly. However, since I only have one choice for the answer, I don't even have to think long. "Leave." I would happily shrug my shoulders. Convey something of indifference, but my back is on fire so even that small gesture is shunned.

Xerxes raises an eyebrow in amusement, but at least tries to hide the smirk this time. "Clear. Walk. That I didn't think of it myself." The sarcasm is audible and the worst part is that he's right. I would never make it. The road is too far. But there is someone I hope for. Zaret. Me I have no idea how long I've been here. But it must be a while. So I guess he's going to be looking for me. And he knows where to look.

"I'm sure my friends are already looking for me." I clear my throat, trying to ignore the fact that I just called Zaret a friend.

Xerxes moves even closer to me and that only enhances his aura. Those held only by powerful persons. Which does not radiate pure violence and yet looks just as threatening. I should dodge. Everything in me is literally screaming at me that I just have to lean back a bit. But I don't do it. I'm pinned down and can only look at him. "So you're telling me you're going to drag yourself out of my castle and wait somewhere in the freezing cold hoping a friend will come by and pick you up."

Now that it's been said that way, I realize that the plan has some gaps. So I just screw up my face in desperation and look down in shame. Feel the heat take hold of my cheeks. "I wouldn't just wait," I mumble, but more to myself than Xerxes. As if trying to justify my own intentions again.

"Lie down," he whispers softly, giving me an encouraging smile. Slowly runs his fingers down my forearms. There are wounds there, too, but Xerxe's touch is so light it doesn't burn. Still, the gesture confuses me. It is somehow so tender. "I'll work this out with Magda." And if he just seemed unsure about that, it's over now. Xerxes would certainly make sure I could stay. But I do not want that. So I shake my head again. "I should go home."

And now let's just see each other. We both know I'm right. I'm the prostitute and he's the john. A simple constellation. Actually. But something has changed. Xerxes looks at me differently. It's almost like he doesn't want to let me go. But that doesn't make any sense. At least for me. However, it can also be that I'm just not able to think properly yet. What happened is still stuck in my head. Like a dark cloud it casts a shadow over me and it's only a matter of time before the storm hits.

Xerxes takes a deep breath and rubs his face again. And this time the gesture resonates with absolute resignation. "Okay, then I'll take you home." I immediately want to contradict, but apparently Xerxes already suspects this. He immediately raises his hand and thus stops me before I can even open my mouth.

"No discussion. I tell Platura to saddle up the horses." Just the word horses makes my eyes widen in disbelief. Not that I'm really scared of these animals, but there's a healthy respect there. They're big and, for me, absolute unpredictable. The shock must be written all over my face. Immediately Xerxes smiles again and gets up. Stretches a bit. "Don't worry, you'll ride with me." He looks at me again, then turns and leaves the room at a brisk pace.

I have no idea how long I'll just stare at the door, trying to somehow find my way to reality. I'm not as isolated as I was down in the dungeons, but I still feel like I'm not really back yet. As if I were on an intermediate level that neither fully allows the hatred of Xerxes nor this inner connection. Equal parts funny and enjoyable. I just wish my pain wasn't so present. But I'm not allowed to do that. I feel drained and would love to get back in bed. Feel the softness of the mattress again and pull the covers up to your head. But I'm not sure if I'll ever get up again.

There's a tingling in me that I can't place. One that makes my heart race. And so I look at the room, but hardly notice anything. There's a chest of drawers. But I don't recognize the color. Couldn't even begin to tell if it was yellow, blue or green. So I blink and look back at the same spot. But my brain still doesn't seem able to process these things. As if my head is filtering what it wants to deal with on its own. And apparently such trifles are not part of it. Nevertheless, I keep looking at the same spot. Even when the door opens and the wobble of the mattress indicates that someone is sitting down on it. I don't have to go see who it is. The smell is enough. Xerxes.

"I'll pick you up now." He says it with a calm that makes me look his way. A crease has formed between his eyebrows as he looks me over again and sighs softly. I'm actually expecting him to say something else, but instead he gently picks me up in his arms. I'm sorry about that. It's unbearable pain and yet I'm okay with it. And the reason why I feel that way is obvious. Xerxes. His way. How he cares. The concern is written on his face. Why is he so caring? I really feel like he cares about my well being. But that doesn't make any sense. Then he wouldn't have hurt me. Or?

I groan in frustration and close my eyes. Ultimately, it doesn't matter why he's like this. I should accept and enjoy it. Who knows when I'll next experience something like charity. So why question?

We walk quite a long time, but I don't even look at the surroundings. I just don't care. Only when the cool air surrounds me do I hesitantly open my eyes. It is dark. Really dark. So it must be night. How long have I slept? And before I can look around, the whinnying of horses can be heard. It echoes loudly in the courtyard of the castle and I breathe out heavily. It's the quickest way to get home. It is only sensible to listen to Xerxes. And yet I would rather go. But I'm well aware that Xerxes would never allow that, so I want to conserve my strength.

Very slowly he puts me down and I hold on to his arm a little to bring security to my stance. I manage to look up a bit. Platura stands by a horse and looks at me. I don't recognize his eyes and yet it seems to me that his eyes are eating into me.

"Here," Xerxes whispers and hands me something. I furrow my eyebrows and take the heavy fabric, noticing that I'm not wearing anything "I'm completely naked, I also notice the icy cold. How it touches my skin unhindered and I feel a shiver. One that intensifies the torment a little more. So I quickly wrap the coat around me and snuggle up in it Fur lies on the inside and literally caresses my skin.

I always thought it would be itchy or at least uncomfortable, but it isn't. The fur looks almost soft. But I can't deal with that any further because Xerxes pushes me forward. Just these few steps are difficult for me and I have to concentrate so that my knees don't just buckle. But I'm not falling, and it's even easier for me to move forward every second. This allows me to look up and examine the horses. They are huge. Much too big for me and even in the dark of night their black fur shines. This gives them an elegant look. At least that's how it seems to most people. It's frightening to me, so I brace myself against Xerxe's hand. He laughs softly and only now do I realize how close he is to me. That his body touches mine.

"Calm down. I'll help you up All you have to do is hold on to the mane." He says it as if there's nothing wrong. But it is. I've never been on a horse before and I wanted to skip the experience.

"I think..." I begin, but the rest of my sentence is swallowed up by a high-pitched yelp. Xerxes picks me up and without thinking, I slide my leg over the huge animal's back. It seems to sense my uneasiness. Immediately it begins to prance and I gasp, clawing at the mane. I immediately panic that the horse will just gallop and throw me off. Even if it's being held by Platura's reins. But he probably won't I can't do anything about the strength of this stallion. But my concern is unfounded. Not even a second later, Xerxes' arm is around me and he's holding me close. I gasp softly as my back is pressed hard against his torso, but this one Sometimes the pain seems to me to be the lesser evil.I'm happy to accept this as long as he holds me tight.

"Ready," he whispers, and I turn slightly toward him. Xerxes smiles again before pulling a hood over his head, covering his face in black. I know the sight. That's how he raped me. I should be scared .Feeling dislike. But nothing like that fills me. Instead, I squeeze closer to him. Watch Platura jump onto his horse and nod. "Ready." And even as my word rings out, Xerxes spurs the horse. A loud whinny fills the night. A jolt and off we go.

The icy wind whistles around me and triggers the well-known tingling on my skin after just a few meters. Immediately, I grip the horse's mane even tighter and, as if Xerxes notices my tensing, he wraps himself around me with even more force.

He leans forward slightly until his lips hover over my ear. Slip this over the skin and let me breathe a little more calmly. "I won't let you go," he whispers, the words almost lost in the roar of the wind. But I hear them. And crazy as it is, I believe him. It confuses me. How can I trust someone like that? He has tortured me! I should hate him. With every fiber. But that's not the case. And I don't understand that. I could still understand it when I had sex after the torture. The shock was probably primarily to blame. But now? Now there There's no proper explanation for my sense of security.Yet it's there.More and more questions pop up in my head as we ride through town. The horses' hooves echo loudly through the alleys and despite the increasingly narrow streets, we don't slow down. My hair is literally flying in the air. Whirling back and forth and tears streaming from my eyes as the wind whips my face unchecked. Nevertheless, I am increasingly relaxing. Xerxe's words reverberate in my head. give me security He won't drop me.

And just when I'm starting to enjoy it, we stop. Immediately Xerxes dismounts and even as I look around confused, I am grabbed by the waist and lifted down. The horses snort and white smoke forms from their nostrils. There is something almost fascinating about how the black animals appear even darker at night. They scrape restlessly with their hooves on the path and Platura looks around. He looks tense. As if he doesn't like being in this area at such a late hour.

"Xerxes," he begins, but stops immediately and takes a deep breath. "Your Majesty, we should be off in a moment." The voice is lowered and yet it makes me sit up and take notice. Platura is clearly noticing something that eludes me. I automatically look around too. But nothing can be seen. Only darkness and the nearby huts. No danger. At least obviously.

"Soon," Xerxes growls and takes a step towards me. And with that, my attention drifts back to him. Nevertheless, I'm tense too. I don't know Platura, but Xerxes trusts him. And what I've already gotten to know from Platura, enough to make him believe his instincts."I'll send someone over to tend your wounds tomorrow," Xerxes whispers, and I can only see into the blackness of the hood. It's impossible and yet I feel like I can still see the green gleam in his eyes even now.

"We should go now," says Platura, and Xerxes seems to notice the emphasis in his voice as well. He nods briefly and already brushes his fingers over my cheek. "See you in three days, Kalota," he whispers, and before I even do can interpret the pitch correctly, he leans forward. Gently places his lips on mine. The kiss doesn't even last a second and yet I catch my breath. I open my mouth immediately, about to say something, but before I can even say a word, Xerxes turns around. With a skilful movement he sits back on the horse and spurs it on. And again, I could tell there's a smile on his face as he gallops past me. And as I watch spellbound as the two men are swallowed up by the night, I can only shake my head. What was that? Did Xerxes just kiss me goodbye? This is crazy. Normally I would probably tell myself that my mind was playing tricks on me, but it can't be. I can still feel my lips on mine.

So I just sigh softly and want to turn to my door. But I'm only allowed half a turn when a figure rises out of the blackness. It doesn't even take a close look to know who was waiting. Zaret. "What a goodbye." He laughs softly and approaches me. There he is again. The mountain of a man and automatically I look down. I definitely don't want to provoke him. But Zaret has other plans on my chin and forces me to look up again.

I would like to tell him that he is absolutely right about that. But the grip on my chin is too tight and I can only keep looking at him while my fingers dig painfully into my skin.

"But the main thing is that you don't forget who you really belong to," he grumbles and presses his thumb even lower. I immediately taste the dirt on my fingers and nod weakly. How could I forget that?

We look at each other for a moment and I just let Zaret rub his thumb over my tongue incessantly. He can spread the dirt on it and thus only makes my position clearer to me. But that's okay with me. I just want to lie down and sleep. That thought calms me down. If I endure the harassment now, then I'll have peace of mind. That's a small price to pay.

"Come on. Come on in," he growls and now moves away from me. I immediately take a deep breath and turn around. I don't need to be told twice. So I quickly open the door to my hut and slip into the room. I see I don't even check if Zaret is following me. That's not interesting to me either. Ultimately, I can't help it anyway. I also refrain from lighting a candle. Suddenly I'm completely tired. It's becoming increasingly difficult for me to keep my eyes open And so I slurp toward my mattress more than anything else. But Zaret provides light. Kindles a small flame and illuminates the pitch-dark room in the faint glow of flickering orange.

I briefly consider taking off the cloak, but then Zaret would see my wounds. Questions would follow. Questions I don't want to answer right now. And maybe it's not so bad to continue wearing the coat for the time being. Then I could later cover myself with it and not have to worry that Zaret could touch my wounds directly while I was sleeping. And just as I'm about to settle down on my mattress with a sigh of relief, Zaret grabs my wrist and stops me.

"Undress." It's just one word, and yet that's enough to make it clear that no arguments are wanted. Still, I shake my head and wrap my coat even tighter around me. "I want to stay dressed." I shiver slightly and I'd like to convince myself that it's from the cold. But that would be a lie. Just the prospect of Zaret seeing me naked again makes my stomach feel uncomfortable.

"Come on. I want to see what he did to you this time." And that makes me breathe hard. I'd like to lie and say Xerxes was nice. But I can't. It's almost like I have a see-through muzzle, making lying impossible for me. So I just turn to Zaret and grimace in desperation. He sees it, but doesn't react. No interest in my feelings. However, since I don't have the strength to start a confrontation with him , I slowly shrug the heavy fabric off my shoulders. The cool air immediately settles on my skin. I don't care. I'm used to the cold. But what I don't want to see is Zaret's reaction to the abuse. Already he has to recognize the deep cuts on the thigh. How my flesh really rips apart. I haven't looked at what that sign is exactly. I can do that later too. After sleeping.

Zaret exhales heavily, so I glance up at him for a moment. His face appears in my field of vision for just a second and yet this short time is enough to recognize the resignation. There's no cocky smile. No condescension. And so I look up now. He's still looking at my thigh and shakes his head slightly. It's almost as if he can't understand how Xerxes would do this to me. But that wouldn't make any sense. Come enough times on my body from Zaret.

While he's still looking at the cut across my upper abdomen, I turn around. This is actually very useful. Now I'm back to the mattress.

And even as I turn away from Zaret, I can actually feel the shock gripping him. He takes a deep breath and that alone brings tears to my eyes. If even Zaret reacts like that, then it must be bad. Really bad. "What the hell did he do to you?" I wince a little under the words because they're spoken with such fervor. But this time I don't turn around Above all, he should not see my veiled gaze.

"It looks worse than it is," I mumble, hoping I'm not completely wrong. After all, I have no idea what my back looks like. To be honest, I never want to find out. It's not like that, though I don't have any scars, but I'm sure that once it heals, my whole back will be one big lump, a circumstance that could break my neck in the prostitution profession, but I put that off too.

And just as I take a step, Zaret grabs my shoulder. This makes me gasp once more. Damn, I just want to get on my mattress. At least sitting would help me. It's not that I have a hard time standing on my feet. Amazingly, my footing is actually quite secure, but I'm so incredibly drained. I'd like to conserve my strength by at least changing my position. I ask no more.

"It looks worse than it is?" Now the voice is lurking and I listen. That's not a good sign. And just to confirm the assumption, Zaret slides his hand from my shoulder down my back. He's still turning no strength. Fingertips seem to hover over my skin. It's an unspoken warning. Quite obvious. Suddenly the air seems to be getting thicker and thicker around us. Making it difficult for me to breathe. And Zeret's still light touch seems to come with everyone A second of gaining strength. A burning sensation sets in. One which shows that some wounds must still be open. Whether these have reopened or are not yet protected by a scab layer, I have no knowledge of.

"Then you shouldn't have any problems, should you?" Even as he speaks, Zaret puts more pressure on his hand and I gasp. I take a step forward and indeed he lets me put some distance between us. One second. Then the fingers are on my back again and now Zaret grabs me by the pelvis as well, preventing me from further dodging.

"Just stand there," he mutters and I close my eyes in resignation. Now he's back to normal. The one who wants to degrade me in every way.

"You seem tense." The voice is buttery soft. As if all he really cares about is that I'm stiff. But I know better. So I swallow hard and look over my shoulder, wanting to see what he's up to. But his Facial expressions don't reveal anything. Only the slightly arrogant smile on the face shows that my intuition is not completely failing me. Zaret briefly examines my side profile before he sighs softly.

"Luckily I'm in a good mood today. So let's see if I can break the tension, shall we?" And with that, he grabs my shoulders and pulls his thumbs down my neck with full force. Pretends to massage me. But that's what Zaret wants he doesn't. He wants to hurt me. And he manages to do it. Instantly everything blurs before me and I can't even beg him anymore. Pain. Only this is present. It takes me in and takes all my thinking. It feels, like Zaret just tearing my skin off. I sob and want to move forward. Somehow away from him, but I can't. Instead, Zaret's grill tightens. "Please," I get out and the dizziness returns .Makes the ground tremble beneath me. And I'm so focused on myself that I don't notice Zaret leaning down to me. Only when the lips touch my ear and the hot breath hits me do I notice his proximity.

"Excuse me? Didn't you say it wasn't that bad?" The warning can be clearly heard. With every syllable the voice seems to get harder and I whimper softly. I wasn't lying. I don't know what my back looks like. It was more a kind of hope that my abuse would not be so obvious. Once again he keeps his fingers crossed for me. Causes unbearable agony and I howl.

"Yes, it's bad." My words shrill through the room. Really roll over. And now I no longer need to hide how bad I feel. Even through these few touchpoints, Zaret managed to create absolute panic in me. And indeed he lets go of me. Only a low grumbling can be heard. This shows that Zaret is not satisfied. I do not care. It's too nice that his thumbs aren't rubbing over me anymore. And to keep it that way, I turn to him slightly.

Zaret grimaces slightly and snorts heavily from his nose. "I don't want you to lie to me when you're hurt. Okay?" I nod without thinking. He wants to know what marks decorate my body? He's welcome. I can't keep it a secret for long anyway.

"Good, then sit down. I want to take a look." Zaret doesn't sound enthusiastic. But he probably isn't either. I would like to tell him that he doesn't have to do that. That I can handle myself Like always. But not a word leaves my lips and so I carefully lower myself onto the mattress. Just don't make quick movements. Then it's bearable and I can convince myself that everything will be fine.

Zaret immediately surrounds me and squats down. He runs his finger down my back again. And even if the touch is hardly noticeable, I flinch. Afraid that more force will be expended from him. "Keep calm," Zaret mutters and just carries on. Seems to want to take a good look at my wounds. And I'm stiffening again. It's really hard for me not to dodge. Again I have to fight against an automatism. Actually, I would have thought that it would get easier at some point, but so far it hasn't.

"This guy is unbelievable. Can't finally start the war, but he can do it." Zaret sighs softly and I only understand the station. I know he means Xerxes, but I can't make the connection between my wounds and the war. But since I don't want to ask about it, I keep quiet about it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zaret reach for the candle and use it to illuminate my wounds.

"This needs cleaning," he murmurs, and I'm not even sure if that applies to me. But I heard it, and I agree. I really need to be careful not to ignite it.

"Were you washed afterwards?" It's a simple question. Not one that should make me think. But I do. In fact, I can't tell. I don't even know how long I slept. Absolutely it is the blood is no longer all over my body, my stomach has been cleaned, the little circles of Xerxes' fingers are gone, and my hands are no longer stained with the red paint.

"Yes?" I grimace slightly and even if Zaret doesn't look at it, he seems to notice my uncertainty about it.

"Was that a question or an answer?" And now he comes around me so we can look at each other again. The neutral expression is still on his face. He seems so different cares for someone else's well-being. Were it not for Zaret, I would enjoy it. But it is him. And so his behavior arouses more suspicion than joy. "I don't know if I was washed." I find it awkward to say that. It doesn't say anything other than that I wasn't awake. That the ordeal of abuse has rendered me completely incapacitated. But instead of mocking me, he rubs his face. "Then we should do it again just in case." I nod immediately, but that's more automatic than I really think about it. I'm much more confused by the fact that Zaret is taking care of me right now. That's not worry. No interest in my physical condition. He doesn't want me to get any worse from blood poisoning.