The Princess's Servant

113. The Worst Part

As Holden moved left, so did Sybil. As he went right, she went right as well. Whichever way he lunged, she matched his movements. He considered trying to bowl through her, but he knew they'd end up on the floor, and that was the last place Holden cared to take their fight. As he made another attempt to get around her, the light of fear flickered in Sybil's eyes. That gave him pause. Her fear was quickly replaced with what almost appeared to be sadness. Now Holden was really lost. What was he missing?

"Are you... okay?" he asked her.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice small. Small... and sincere. He waited patiently for her next words. "I'm going to need you to get on your knees," she told him.

Holden felt any softness he'd been feeling clear like fog. "What?"

"Just do it?" She folded her arms over her chest.

"Why?"

Her cheeks reddened at that and she stomped towards him. "Just get on your goddamn knees!"

Holden threw up his hands. "Gods! Okay! You are just—" He got to his knees and then threw his arms to the side as if to ask if she was satisfied.

Sybil gave no response. She simply advanced on the prince, her eyes bright. He had seen that look before, he thought. Or... No... he had worn it. That day his father thrashed that poor rabbit to death. His eyes had been like that. Powerless to look away, and powerless to stop it.

Fear swelled in Holden and he considered bolting. Whatever this was — whatever game she was playing — there was no way it was good. He flinched as she stepped nearer, but that same look that scared him also said that she was watching very, very carefully.

The hem of Sybil's skirt brushed his thigh. Her hips were but a breath away, now. She snaked one hand behind his ear and gripped her fingers on the back of his head. Her other hand went to her skirt as she began to draw both the skirt and Holden inwards.

NOPE. Nope nope nope. Holden jumped up, pulling himself from her grip. "Nope!" he said aloud. He held his arms out in front of him and found that both were shaking. Sybil stared back with wide eyes, her hand still at her skirt. She dropped the fabric and took another step towards him.

Holden shook his head and a shiver ran down his spine. "Uh-uh."

She watched this and then stepped closer again.

"Sybil—"

Another step. She was only an arm's length away.

"Sybil, no!"

Another step closer. Half an arm's length. He could see her squarely through his arms, a look of determination on her face, not unlike the one she'd worn the night of their wedding.

"Why?" He had to ask.

Her eyes hardened, and then softened. "On your knees," she said again quietly. "Please."

Holden almost laughed. "No!"

She drew in breath to speak and the two shared a moment of silence. Then, Holden felt the full weight of the Lailoyan woman fall down upon him. His back met the rough wood floor.

The wind left him and his head jolted enough to leave him rattled. That didn't stop him from fighting her, though, as she slithered up his chest.

"Sybil," he choked out when some of his air returned to him. Her knees were at his armpits now as she towered over him. He strained against her but to no success.

"I'll say the words and mean them," he bargained through strained breath. "On my life."

Sybil only looked at him with those bright eyes.