The Tyrant's Queen

21: a red head

Through the faint fog of her flickering consciousness, Thalia felt a strong hand cup her neck and back of her head, lifting her up.

Then, a cold glass vial came to her lips.

She had to resist, or the four hours of the split, cracking throat and agonizing thirst, accompanying feverish dizziness, all was for naught.

No, in fact- she'd managed to resist for four hours. So she could reward herself now, by taking just a sip.

Almost as soon as the liquid slid down her gullet, all her resistance melted away.

Her two hands came up to the vial to take hold of it, to speed up the flow of the sweet liquid into her stomach.

Her eyes opened, to the face of Karlieus. His face, of warm concern, loomed over her.

"...I'm all right...Officer..." she pronounced the words languidly, laboriously.

Only then did she see that the face was not of Karlieus, but of Lucien.

Penetrating ice-blue eyes, instead of sea-green ones. Surgical placidity, instead of compassionate concern.

"Where were you the whole day?" Lucien's hand relaxed from around her neck, and put her back down. His voice was cutting- and interrogative.

She was in her chambers, in her own bed. There was a distinct, fuzzy memory of being carried on Karlieus's back after her knees had given way in the forest.

"...In the forest."

"With Karlieus?"

"And some friends." Thalia's reply came as a quiet sigh.

Her eyelids were as heavy as lead- she could barely keep them open, only respond to Lucien's questions.

"Doing what, that there's dirt on your clothes and face?" His tone was accusatory.

"Learning how to use a dagger. It was a good time. And one that served your purpose, sire. You requested for my presence in the forest and didn't appear there- knowing Karlieus would be present for training." Thalia added hotly. "Was it not the case?"

Deep, deep inside, she'd harbored a laughable hope that Lucien had in fact actually invited her to ride with him through the forest.

Because after last night, his puzzling and indisputably sharp loathing for her, might have been blunted.

That they had come to a common understanding- that she was willing to come to his assistance when he was weak.

"A dagger? And for the whole day?"

Thalia opened her eyes to the harshness of his voice. There was no blunted abhorrence- perhaps only heightened distaste of her.

His jaw clenched, he was eyeing her as he would arrested criminals of the state- scrutinizing her closely.

"There will be talk," Thalia exhaled. "There will be people around the palace who saw how I've spent time in the forest with Karlieus. Isn't that what you want, sire?"

Just what did he want?

Lucien's hardened face slackened, and he turned around, his back to her. "You're right."

Cold derision dripped from his tone. "Unlike ladies of named clans, you are accustomed to ways of intimacy with men.

"Apologies, for applying the aristocrats' standards to you. I was merely surprised." 

Ways of what with men? The back of Thalia's eyes stung, as she registered how with unexpectedly little shock his words hit her.

She was growing accustomed to his characterization of her as a cheap woman, a brothel girl.