The Vanquished

Chapter One: Inspection

I am brought to a small chamber where an older woman helps me wash off the sweat and grime from the past few days. I am not allowed to keep the clothes I was wearing and am deposited in Prince Damian's bedchamber in nothing but a light robe. The room is large – larger than mine was, but I try to purge any thoughts of the past from my mind.

I want to keep things away from the bed as long as possible, so I sit on a plush chair across the room. I try to think of anything I learned about this family from my tutors. I believe that Damian is the youngest son – and generally regarded as the most reckless and least interested in anything political.

I am just beginning to regret not paying more attention to my lessons as a child when I hear footsteps outside the door. The handle moves and I am struck with the sudden urge to run and hide. But there is nowhere to go. So I sit, frozen, as Damian enters the room and closes the door behind him.

His steps are leisurely as he crosses the room to me. I quickly rise and curtsy, gaze focused on the ground, etiquette training still hardwired.

Damian stops in front of me. "Look at me," he says.

I do, trying very hard not to look as afraid as I am.

He holds my gaze. "Take off the robe." His words are not sharp or loud but still hold authority.

Heart pounding in my chest, I untie the sash and let the light fabric slide off my body to the floor.

"Pick that up," he says.

I lean down to obey him, but before I can rise, he has a heavy hand on my shoulder, forcing me to stay kneeling. I look up at him.

"Do you understand what this arrangement is?" he asks.

I swallow and try very hard not to look at his crotch. "Yes."

He strikes my cheek so suddenly I don't see it coming. Pain blooms over the side of my face. I blink back tears as he forces me to look up at him.

"We are equals no longer, princess," he says. "You will address me as 'your highness.'" He pauses. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, your highness," I say with a whimper.

"What are you?"

"Your whore, your highness." I tamp down the surge of outrage and anger within me, as that would surely get me hurt again.

"And what is your purpose as my whore?"

I clench my jaw slightly. "To please you, your highness."

"Good, now stand up."

He relinquishes his grip on m chin and I rise. I resist the urge to cover up as he focuses his gaze on my boy. His first touch to my shoulders makes me flinch, but his strong grip holds me in place. He runs his hands down to my breasts, which he first holds gently in his hands. When he brushes one of my nipples, I shiver.

"Has anyone ever touched you there?" he asks.

"Only my lady's maids when washing me, your highness," I say quietly.

He nods, still looking at my breasts, gently squeezing them with his large hands. He suddenly pinches my nipple and I cry out. He flashes a wicked grin. "Wonderfully sensitive."

He then makes me lay on a strangely shaped couch that elevates my hips as my legs dangle over the edge. He sits on a chair and pushes my legs apart. I close my eyes tightly and try to think of anything else.

I feel his fingers slide between the lips of my pussy and that is when I snap. I close my legs and scramble away from him, off the couch. He watches me with his intense dark eyes as I back away from him.