Mastered By Love (33 page)

The door squealed as it opened again,
light flooding the tiny room. Booted feet appeared in his visual
field. Rosaria threw a thin pallet on the floor next to the
opposite wall.

“
Get on the
bed.”

He groaned, forced himself to his
hands and knees. Crawled to the pallet.

“
Stay like that,” she
said.

The sound of a jar opening. A dry
towel blotted him. Cool fingers spread salve over his injuries,
making them burn all over again. Dario hissed, trying not to
flinch. After a torturous few minutes, the jailer wrapped linen
strips around him, binding his wounds.

“
Lay on your belly now,”
she said.

He obeyed, mostly because
he didn’t have the strength to stay on his hands and knees anymore.
The pallet smelled musty, but it was better than the
stone.

She left for a moment. When she
returned, she spread a scratchy blanket over him. A peculiar sense
of gratitude flooded him, making him wish he could see her face.
She was kind.

“
Thank you,” he said
roughly.

“
It’s my job to keep you
alive long enough to bear the punishment.” Her voice was cold and
distant. “That’s all. I don’t want your thanks.”

She picked up her lamp and
left him in the icy darkness.

Mateo got
no sleep the night that Dario and Tariza left
Saturnios. The prince and his Concordian slave were discovered
missing and the Concordian was blamed. This in spite of the fact
they’d taken a carriage from the stables, something Tariza could
never have accomplished without Dario’s help.

Now Mateo stood at his
bedroom window, staring out at the furiously falling snow and
thanking God for it. Their tracks would be covered, assuming they’d
gotten far enough quickly enough. With any luck, they’d made it to
a safe place where they could wait out the storm. He assumed that
afterward they’d leave Saturnios and never return.

He didn’t understand
Dario’s choosing a Concordian slave over his family
responsibilities and their uncle, but Mateo would always side with
Dario. Always. They were brothers and that meant more to him than
any other relationship in his life. And now he had an unpleasant
task to take care of.

A soft scratch at the door
announced Lola’s arrival.

“
Enter,” he
said.

She came in and shut the door quietly,
a satisfied smile playing over her lips. Although her posture was
every bit as submissive as it should be, her face looked distinctly
self-satisfied. She padded toward him on bare feet and sank to her
knees before him, her red patent leather harness glistening in the
cool winter light from the windows.

“
Master, what is your
desire?”

“
Rise and look at
me.”

She lifted her head, a
startled gesture. “Master?”

“
You heard me. Get
up.”

Lola rose gracefully to her
feet. Her gaze flickered nervously to his face and away, over the
room’s furniture and floor. “Is something wrong,
Master?”

Her voice came out all soft and
whispery, like a dream of feminine submission. Something told him
the submission was faked.

“
Did you enter Prince
Dario’s chambers last evening and attack his slave in the bathtub?”
He put every ounce of stern reprimand he could muster into his
voice.

Blue eyes widened. “Master,
I would never –”

“
Lola. Do not lie to me. If
you do and I discover it, your punishment will be twice as severe.
I’ve already interviewed your accomplices.” Not true, but she
wouldn’t know.

She paled. “We didn’t –
that is, I didn’t mean –”

“
She has a concussion,
Lola. People die from concussions.”

Lola’s lower lip
trembled.

“
Did you or did you not
attack Tariza?”

She took a ragged breath.
“I hate her, Master. She thinks she’s so much better than the rest
of us and she isn’t. She isn’t! She doesn’t even know how to act
like a real woman. She thinks she’s a man.”

He’d never even suspected
this level of antagonism from submissive Lola. Had he really known
her at all? He’d made use of her many times over the past couple of
years and had always enjoyed it immensely. She was one of his
favorites, and yet she had a side he’d never seen until
now.

“
I agree,” he said
neutrally. “I don’t know what Dario sees in her.” Although she had
learned how to give good head.

Lola blinked. “Then you
don’t ... like her?”

“
She is very attractive.
Using her was pleasurable. But I don’t like her.”

“
But you –”

“
My brother asked me to
look after her while he was in the country with the Bellerenic
prince. That’s all.”

A huge smile broke over her
face. “Oh.” Her relief was palpable.

“
You attacked her out of
jealousy, then.”

The smile disappeared. She dropped her
gaze and gave a hesitant nod.

“
You know it’s unlawful to
attack another slave.”

The lip began to tremble
again. “But –”

“
No buts, Lola. You know
the rules.”

“
Master –”

“
This is very serious
misbehavior. You not only assaulted her, you caused serious injury.
I have to administer suitable punishment.”

“
Please, Master. Please
don’t hurt me. I swear I’ll never do anything like that
again.”

She looked so contrite, her
large blue eyes tearful, her whole frame quivering, that he almost
relented. But punish her he must. An infraction like this could not
go unacknowledged or they’d have no peace in their household.
Jealousy was always a problem among the slaves and only tight
management kept it in check.

“
Turn around.”

Lola obeyed, weeping.

“
Get on your knees. Put
your elbows on the floor.”

She leaned forward until her elbows
were flat on the floor. This put her ass in the air, a nicely
vulnerable position. Lola had a fine ass, toned and round. Mateo
reached down to run his palm over the smooth curves.

Straightening, he took up
the cane he’d left on the nearby table. He slapped it against his
palm a couple of times, watching her flinch at the sound. Then he
brought it whistling down on her exposed flesh. Lola
yelped.

He striped her well, raising long red
welts that would make it almost impossible for her to sit for at
least a week. By the time he finished, she was sobbing.

“
Get up and turn to face
me, slave.”

She rose on wobbly legs, still crying.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her lashes stuck together in big wet
clumps. Strangely, she still looked beautiful to him. But that was
immaterial.

“
You are not to eat
anything for three days. You may have water and broth, nothing
else. For another seven days after that, you’ll have nothing but
broth and stale bread. The cook has already been
notified.”

Lola sniffled.

“
Furthermore, you are
banished from my presence until I rescind the order.”

She sobbed. “No, Master
–”

“
Arguing,
slave?”

Her reddened face went
white. “N-no, M-master.”

“
You’ll assist the cook as
a scullery maid for three months. You’ll be housed in isolation
from the other slaves. You will speak to no-one unless spoken to.
Is that understood?”

More sobs. “Y-yes,
M-master.”

“
Leave me. Go directly to
the kitchen and report to the cook.”

Lola stood, sobbing and
trembling. He wanted to put his arms around her, comfort her. But
she’d committed a serious crime and he couldn’t overlook it. He
would miss her. And that was something she must never
know.

“
Get out of my rooms,
Lola.” He made his voice snap.

“
Yes,
Master,” she whispered. Lola turned and fled his quarters, still
crying.

***

Tariza hurt
all over – head, ribs, legs, arms – especially the
arms. Even her hair gave her pain. Where was she? Not in the
carriage, obviously, since she was warm. The carriage had been
punishingly cold and there had been snow all around.
Darkness.

She’d been floating upward
through the remaining dark, trying to reach the light.

Wherever this was, it was
warm. And there was light. The room – it was a room. She opened her
eyes before noticing what she was doing. There were walls around
her, whitewashed walls, and the air smelled faintly of sweet wax
and woodsmoke.

“
Dario,” she rasped.
“Where?”

A slim feminine hand
stroked her brow. “It’s all right. He’s gone.” Her sister? Was that
her sister’s voice?

How could Lenora be here? Had she
somehow penetrated Saturnios and come to get Tariza? Was she in
danger? They had to get out of the palace immediately before
someone in Saturnios realized her sister was there.

Wait. What had she said about Dario?
He was gone. She frowned, blinking up at the searing light that
filled the room. Dario was gone? No!

Her sister’s familiar face
appeared in her field of vision. Lenora looked worried, her blond
brows drawn together, her mouth set tightly.

“
Gone?” Tariza
said.

“
He can’t hurt you.” Her
sister brushed something from Tariza’s forehead.

She grabbed Lenora’s hand.
“Dario is gone?”

Then they must not be in
Saturnios after all. Where? Could they be in Concordia? It didn’t
seem possible. There was no way they could have crossed the
mountains, either on foot or horseback, in such a winter storm.
They would have died of the cold.

Then she remembered the noise, the
blowing snow in the darkness of a cramped city lane. Float cars.
There had been float cars and the horse had panicked.

The float cars must have contained
Concordian warriors, women who would never believe that Dario cared
for her or that he was trying to protect her. Had they killed him?
Savage pain gripped her heart. Not Dario. Please, not Dario. A tear
leaked from her eye.

“
Shhh,” Lenora said
soothingly, brushing more hair from her face. “He can’t hurt you
anymore, Tariza. You’re safe.”

She wanted, needed to know
more. But the darkness pulled at her, dragging her down, and she
didn’t have the strength to fight it.

For several
days, the jailers fed Dario thin gruel and broth
three times a day and refused to talk to him or answer his
questions. Even Rosaria, the one who’d given him the bed and
blanket, wouldn’t tell him anything no matter what he said to her.
He lost track of morning and night in the darkness of the prison.
He couldn’t tell anymore how long he’d been down here.

Did his family know where
he was? They’d probably found the carriage, but they might never
know about the float cars. Unless they found witnesses.

If they knew Concordia had him, would
they ransom him? Would Queen Merita even accept a ransom? And if
she did, would he want to go, knowing Tariza was still
here?

She hates you. She’s left
you here to rot.

In the face of that knowledge, nothing
seemed especially important anymore.

They came to him after he’d
choked down his meager allotment of lukewarm gruel. Rosaria and the
other one, whose name he’d never learned. Once again, they cuffed
his wrists together. They attached a chain to his collar, but
instead of using it as a leash, they pulled it around his back and
clipped it to his wrists. They chivvied him out of the cell using
the rod attached to his handcuffs.

When they shoved him into the great
hall, the light flooding through the tall windows blinded him. He
pinched his eyes half-shut, relying on the guards to shove him in
the direction they wanted him to go. Women surrounded him,
viciously pinching him, kicking him, yanking at his
hair.

They didn’t bring him to
the blue and gold throne room. Instead they forced him along a
gauntlet of Concordian women and their slaves, all along the length
of the great hall to a dais at one end of the room. They made him
mount the dais.

A second, higher platform
supported the queen on a simple chair of dark wood, along with a
handful of other women who must be her councilors. Two naked slaves
knelt at the queen’s feet, their oiled skin gleaming in the harsh
daylight. Both of them sported huge erections.

Dario eyed them with apprehension.
This looked bad. Very bad. His heart began to race.

“
Get him on his knees,” the
queen said.

His guards shoved him to
his knees. One of them unlatched the pole from the connection on
the back of his collar. He kicked out, his feet landing solidly on
Rosaria’s calves. She swore.