The doctor came to examine Jamie’s ribs, and Erika beckoned him to look at mine. She showed me to a room and made to leave me with the man, but I held onto her hand and shook my head. The physician looked nice enough, but for some odd reason, I didn’t have any trust left for him.
Erika understood and sat on the bed with me, holding my hand and running her fingers over my arm as the doctor moved my dress so he could examine the wound.
“Huh. The exact same as the prince’s,” he mused. “Plus a run-in with the Nøkkendalig?” He gave me a nod of appreciation as he fingered my sore ribs. “Well, it looks like you won’t be held back by a few bumps. Nothing’s broken, so you’ll be okay in a few days. Try not to use this side until you’re feeling better.” He looked inside my mouth and in my eyes. “See she gets some water. Some food. Whoever owned her before Master Foss didn’t take very good care of her. I don’t know what accounts for her stature other than malnutrition.”
Erika nodded. “I’ll tell Master Foss first thing.”
Though he’d just seen my bare torso, he looked at my shins with pink cheeks as Erika buttoned me back up. “See she also gets some decent clothes. Master Olaf and his men are coming to visit tomorrow night, I hear. Best not be flaunting her in her damaged state.”
“Of course,” Erika agreed gravely. When the doctor left, she helped me off the bed. “The men here won’t do anything you don’t want, but Master Olaf isn’t as strict about that sort of thing as Master Foss. With hair like yours, you’re very fortunate Master Foss found you first.”
If I made it out of this ordeal a virgin, I would thank my lucky stars. One day years from now, I would process all of this and freak out accordingly. For now survival was key, and to survive, I needed not to think too long on the horrors of the day.
I wanted to go into Jamie’s room and hide, but there was work to be done. Whenever I checked in on him through our bond, he was in the throes of anxiety over Britta and Jens. I wasn’t ready to feel that.
“It’s your first day here, and the doctor said not to use your ribs too much,” Erika argued when I followed her back into the kitchen. “Go rest. No one expects you to jump right in on your first day.”
Brenda looked very much like she wished to argue this point, but out of respect for the handprints that were still scarring my body, she stayed her tongue. I made my opinion clear by picking up a dish in the sink and washing it out. Maybe I couldn’t pluck a chicken, but I could definitely wash a dish. If I could be Queen Lucy, I could sure as smack be Slave Lucy with just as much dignity. Suck it, Foss.
“Is that her?” a feminine voice asked with unveiled disgust, hands on her generous hips.
“No, this is the roast duck Master Foss brought home. You can see it’s a new girl.” Erika’s snotty tone almost made me smile. I did not look up from my task to greet the new person.
“I thought Viggo said Master Foss bought a woman for the house. She can’t be older than twelve.”
With an obvious lack of fanfare, Erika droned to me, “Guldy, this is Kirstie.”
Kirstie moved to where I could see her if I looked up, but I was intent on keeping my eyes on the dishes. In my periphery, I could see she was curvy with thick lips and a pinched nose. Her black hair was partway pulled back, but some was left down to sway as she moved. She sized me up to see how much competition I presented. “I’m Master Foss’s bedslave,” she bragged. That was her tone, at least. Why she would brag about that was beyond me. “His only bedslave.”
Message received. You’ve got the burnin’ loins for Foss. I wanted to laugh in her face at the stupid thing she felt the need to stake her claim on, but I kept my head down. She lost interest after a few more minutes of prodding for information I would not give.
The house filled with the scents of freshly baked bread and roasted chicken as the day wore on. Erika showed me how to hand wash the clothes, how to beat out the rugs and how to change the linens throughout the house. She introduced me around and acted as my own personal mouthpiece, which was fortunate since I was bent on not speaking.
Dinner was a strange affair. There were two tables, one for the slaves and one for the real people. Foss sat at his table, and then motioned for Kirstie to join him. It was clearly a position of honor, and her bountiful hips swayed as she made her way to his side, kissing his cheek before taking her seat.
Jamie was holed up in his room still. I began to appreciate how great a guy he was that he didn’t throw his royalty card around and make it seem like the mere act of eating with him was a privilege.
Though the tables were separate, the servants were not afraid to converse with their master. In fact, they were not afraid of him at all, but held an admiring respect for him. He was served his meal first and asked to tell stories of his journey to Tonttu.
Foss was certainly less surly than he’d been on the trip. He kept the details of the mission to himself, instead spinning it as a personal invitation to dine with Prince Jamie, and in return show the prince the Isle of Fossegrim.
I stared at my plate as he spoke, clanking my silverware so it appeared I was eating. The water could not be resisted, though. I tried to remain firm in my no eating or drinking policy, but my mouth was the Sahara, so I downed my water and felt it splash around my hollow stomach.
Everyone was glad to have their head of the household home, but I wanted out. I wanted a real bed. I wanted normal things and a life where I could look men in the eye without getting backhanded. I wanted out of this stupid mission. There was a part of me that resented Uncle Rick for putting me in this position, knowing that my own father never would have put me in such danger over and over again. I began to understand that Uncle Rick loved me only as much as he was capable of it, which was, well, not enough. I was a tool to be used for his greater purpose. Although I now shared his goal, I resented him for putting me in harm’s way. For not loving me more than his mission. No wonder Mace always looked so lonely.
A few of the servants tried to draw me into conversation. I nodded along when appropriate, but said nothing. Throughout the course of the meal, they began to accept that I was mute, shifting prods for conversation to simple yes and no questions.
The men at the table didn’t feel as dangerous as Foss or the evil smackholes who frequented the slave trade, but their eyes on me were not indifferent, either. I shrank as much as I could and kept my head down so as not to encourage any advances I could tell were on the horizon.
I felt eyes on me, but it was not the familiar feeling of Jens. I kept my head down and fiddled with my fork some more, ignoring the heat coming from Foss’s direction. I wanted to flip him the bird and snap at him for staring, but I maintained my stoic silence.
When dinner was over, I set to work in the kitchen doing the dishes. Brenda closed down the kitchen alongside me, and I could tell she was grateful that I helped without being asked or told what to do.
Everyone else was bathing and getting ready for bed when Erika came to fetch me. “I put your mat next to mine. If Viggo comes to sleep next to me in the night, don’t be afraid.” Erika led me toward the back door, but Foss called out from his room to her.
“Erika, bring me the new one. She’ll share my bed tonight.”
My skin crawled with such disgust, it was a wonder I didn’t ralph all over the wood floor.
“Yes, Master Foss!” Erika turned to me with junior high-like excitement on her face that I’d been chosen for a prom date by the hot senior (which, incidentally, had never happened to me). “It’s a big honor, Guldy. Master Foss usually only takes Kirstie into his bed. Oh, that’ll teach her to lord her position over us!” Erika hugged me, ignoring my stiffness.
I shook my head vehemently, motioning that I wanted to go with her.
Erika frowned. “But you can’t turn down the master. No one turns him down.”
Images that terrified me to my very soul were conjured up of me in Foss’s bedroom. I wanted nothing to do with him or that room. I continued to shake my head. When she looked even more confused by my opinion, I walked in the opposite direction of Foss toward the shed where the servants slept. He’d bought me as a slave, and I’d sleep with the slaves. Let him explain that to my uncle.
Viggo and Erika ran out to me just as I reached the shed. “Wait, Guldy. Did you not understand?” Poor Viggo still thought I was slow in the head. “Master Foss has chosen you to warm his bed tonight.”
Aw, barf. Now there’s that image in my brain. I shook my head and pointed to the shed, walking inside to find an empty mat among the servants. I laid down with my back to the wall so I could make sure no one came at me from behind.
Viggo scratched his head and made his way over to me while Erika twisted her hands in excitement. Viggo knelt by my head and spoke softly. “If the master requires you, you must go.”
I clung to my mat as if my life depended on it, shaking my head adamantly.
“Are you a maiden?” he asked delicately.
I buried my face in my mat to escape him and that question. I liked the fact that I was virgin, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t enjoy my business being the topic of conversation.
Erika shook her head. “She can’t be. She’s been attacked by the Nøkkendalig.”
“Ah.” Viggo nodded in understanding. “It won’t be like that.”
Just then, the door to the shed burst open, and I half expected Foss to shout, “Hulk, smash!” Instead he bellowed, “Lucy, I told you to come here!”
When I only clung to my mat harder, he stomped through the shed, parting his servants like the Red Sea. They scattered out of his way, clearly confused at seeing their master so angry, and a slave so rebellious. He snatched me up and carried me out of the shed over his shoulder.
Oh, I wanted to beat on him. I wanted to pound my fists into his back or his kidneys or spine or whatever would hurt the most that I could reach. I knew if I did strike him, his retaliating blow would be far worse. He carried me past Kirstie, who was red and fuming that she had been dethroned by someone who clearly did not want the post.
Foss dumped me on the floor of his bedroom from his staggering height of seven feet. When I slammed down, my ribs jarred anew. I let out a single cry before stapling my lips together. I scrambled on my hands and knees toward the door, but he slammed it shut. “Stop it, Lucy. You’ll stay in here tonight.”
I clutched my knees to my chest, crossed an arm over my breasts and shook my head. The romantic fireplace. The let’s-get-it-on bed with crimson sheets that took up a third of the room. Panic rose in me as I clutched the hem of my dress and tugged it downward.
Foss held up his hands with a look of disgust. “No, no. I won’t touch you, I promise. When Alrik catches up to us, I don’t want him to find out I made you sleep with the slaves. My men probably wouldn’t try anything, but you’ll be safer in here.”
His words were confusing me. It was almost like he was trying to be nice, but was so befuddled with the emotion that he had to throw me on the floor first.
“Get in the bed,” he ordered.
I smacked my hand to the wood floor, staking my claim that the hard surface would be a fine enough bed for me. If he didn’t like it, he shouldn’t have pushed me down.
“Don’t be difficult. I’ve had a long day too, you know. Do you think I want to fight with you about this?”
I crawled over to the furthest corner from his massive straw bed and curled up in a ball on the floor.
He sat on the bed, took off his shirt and ran his hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re mad at me for hitting you after I bought you. But I’m a big name in my country. It won’t do for word to get around that common slaves feel free to look me in the eye. My own people can, but not random slaves. What I did sent a message to the other girls there. People watch what you do, Lucy. I can’t have them emulating you on my conscience. They start looking their masters in the eye, and they’ll get far worse than sore ribs.”
When I said nothing to this and did not even acknowledge he spoke, he threw his arms out and started yelling. “What do you want from me? Jamie already chewed me out for it. He says he’s too sore to get out of bed. How are you already doing chores?”
Because I’m not a wuss, I wanted to say, but in reality I knew that Jamie preferred his privacy for his grieving. He had given up hope that Jens was still alive. Waiting for Britta was torture for him, not knowing if she would be caught and imprisoned by the Nøkken for aiding Nik.
“You don’t have to do chores anymore. You’re my bedslave now, so your job is seeing to my needs.” He shook his head as he kicked off his boots. “Don’t worry. I won’t need you for that, but it’ll keep you close and give you a reason to stay off your feet for a while until you feel better.”
He paused and watched me stare lifelessly ahead. What was he expecting? For me to thank him? Thank you, Foss for making me your fake whore. I’m so lucky to have a big man like you to smack me around.
“Fine! Sleep on the floor for all I care.” Foss stoked the fire before flopping down on his bed. I could tell he’d missed his home. The comfort it brought him and the familiar feel of his own bed relaxed him more than I’d ever seen.
It was too much. Unbidden tears welled in my eyes, and I cursed myself for drinking the water that made those abominations possible. I laid down and shoved my hand to my mouth to keep any offending weakness silent while I wished for anything to feel familiar ever again.