SHADOW

The danger

"I would like somebody to bring the books from my room, if possible."
She wanted to make a second request—to see her friend Floriana, or at least find out about her fate. But she dared not show that weakness in front of this stranger. She didn't want anyone to know that Floriana would be her weakness, that hurting her friend might make her do things. At least, that's how the villains operated in the books she read. And right now, she didn't know if this handsome man was a villain or not.

He was mean, for sure—to take her away in such a rude manner.

The carriage felt claustrophobic. Too small for the both of them. In her mind, he was sucking all the air with his huge frame and strong mix of perfume, forest, and metal—
No, not metal—blood.

Oh God, she thought. He smells of blood.

Sha shrank into the corner of the carriage, crumpling a corner of her blue dress between her fingers. She looked at him and sighed.

"May I ask, sir, where are you taking me?"

He was gazing out of the carriage window, his body present but his mind far away. For one moment she thought he would not reply, but then he turned toward her, as if remembering she was there.

"To Red Castle. You will live there—but not for long."

Silence stretched like an ocean between them, and she wondered if she should stay quiet or just ask everything that troubled her.

"What are your plans for me? What position should I take in your castle?" asked Sha, dreading his answer. She knew most noble men looked for docile wives. Some for mistresses. Some for caretakers for their children—who were expected to supply other favors. It mostly depended on what the man fancied. And no one could stop them. Especially if they owned a castle.

This man must be very important—not just a common noble.

She knew many men took young mistresses, used them, and discarded them like a nuisance when they got bored or when the girl aged.

"What do you mean?" he asked, apparently not understanding her question.

"What would I be? A wife or a m—"
She did not finish the sentence when he interrupted:

"Oh, no. Not that. You will be my daughter."

In that moment, all propriety lessons were forgotten. She burst into laughter, forgetting her fear and position.

"Daughter?" she asked, incredulous.
Of all the sinister things she'd imagined, she could not comprehend how this seemingly young man envisioned her as his daughter. Or maybe she hadn't read him well—maybe it was the darkness, the mask.

What kind of fetish was this? Was she supposed to call him Father?
It was ridiculous.

He didn't reply.

She continued to stare at him defiantly.
"You do not look so old to me. Pardon me, but I do not see how you could be my father, sir. Or is this a joke?" she asked, then cringed.

With one swift motion, he removed his velvet mask and leaned toward her, grabbing her by the waist and dragging her into his lap.

"No, it is not a joke, girl. How dare you question me?" he said, anger flaring in his eyes.
"You are the first woman who dares to question my sanity and my plans. Or perhaps you're entertaining other uses I may have for you?"

She gasped. His presence was too close, his large body pressed against hers—it made her dizzy.
He had a magnificent face: noble and cruel, like the angels painted in the Academy chapel—beautiful but distant, sculpted, cold.

Then his lips crashed into hers.

He was kissing her.
Her eyes widened.

She would never forget that kiss—it was her first kiss, stolen so rudely by a man whose name she did not even know.

Suddenly, he stopped and grinned at her, his smile evil and self-satisfied.

"So, girl, is this the position you entertained? Is it to your liking?"
He was enjoying it—her terror, her dismay, her shame. He was feeding on it, gaining power over her, making her feel small.

In that moment, she decided to take her power back.

Sha clasped her hands in his beautiful black hair and kissed him back—gently, romantically, as sweetly as in the books she read by candlelight in her spare time. Books passed secretly from girl to girl under tables in the library. Books worn thin, inherited from those who had long since left the Academy. Books you couldn't find on the official shelves.

To her surprise, he did not push her away.

He kissed her back.

Oh my God, he did.

And she didn't stop.

She let herself enjoy it. Maybe tomorrow—or even tonight—something bad would happen. But right now, she imagined she was happy. 

She even dared to bite his lower lip—gently—and smiled.