“Training naughty pets is a specialty of mine. Do you need a strict master?”
“No.”
The corners of his mouth curved up. “The correct answer to that question was, ‘I need whatever you decide, Sir.’”
Heat suffused her cheeks, and she had to clasp her hands tighter to prevent them from dropping to cover herself. She wanted to argue with this man, but it was difficult to do while being displayed as such.
He strode around her, examining her from various angles so silently that she nearly spoke again. She was not used to cool appraisals. Normally people gushed over her beauty with either words or heated gazes.
“You’re exquisite, which has value,” he said calmly, almost dispassionately. It reminded her of the few times she’d overheard an aunt discussing the fact that her beauty would give the realm great leverage. Early on, her father hadn’t remarked on the various ways she might be used for the sake of the monarchy. But of course, in the end the king had planned to use her to his advantage.
A pretty princess is currency of sorts. Just like a pretty pet, she realized, startled.
“Beauty, however, is not the most important thing to savvy prospective pet owners.”
She blinked.Owners. That word brought other memories rushing back. She thought of the pierced girl under the commander’s control in the hotel room. She’d mistaken her for a slave. She’d been told she wasn’t a prisoner or slave, per se. And yet here was the wordowned. Households didn’t own their servants. They employed them. If pets were paid employees, they shouldn’t be referred to as owned. That should be reserved for property, shouldn’t it?
“Do you know what the most important thing is?” Master V asked.
“No.”
A sharp crack landed on her ass. She jerked forward with a gasp.
“The correct response is ‘No, Sir.’ Or ‘No, Master.’”
She turned her head sharply to look at him. Not because he’d corrected her about the proper way to address him, but because his voice was familiar. When he’d been speaking before, it had been in a very low modulated tone. Just then, however, he’d sounded like—exactly like—Lord Evston Calex.
“I beg your pardon.Sir.”
The man’s black mask circled his blue eyes, covered his nose and mid-face down to the corners of his mouth. She studied him. The eyes, the lips, and the hair.Dead realms, yes. She should have known instantly. It was only because she hadn’t expected to see him and because he’d introduced himself as V that it hadn’t initially occurred to her.
What was he doing here? Lord Evston Calex was far too busy to be hanging about an assessment center of any kind for an extended period. Also, were it known it would be a scandal. Wouldn’t it?
After a moment, all her thoughts fell away. A princess was standing naked before the king’s most trusted advisor, and despite the change of style and color of her hair and small alterations to her facial features, she had no doubt that he recognized her. What was he intending to do? Treat her in a highhanded and humiliating way to force her to flee? What if she didn’t?
If he’d intended to simply call her father and have her dragged back to Alorn or to the palace, surely he would not be examining her naked body.
Should she tell him she’d recognized him? No, she decided immediately. If she did, that would force his hand. If they each pretended that they hadn’t discovered the other’s true identity, the adventure could continue for at least a little longer.
“Your tone when saying the word Sir was insolent,” he said mildly.
“I beg your pardon, Sir,” she said, gentling her voice.
“I don’t pardon you for it,” he said.
Her brows rose in question.
“Punishment, Layda. That’s the only way to earn a master’s pardon.”
The door opened, and Holly entered with a flat fabric-covered display tray. On it was an assortment of pretty silver, gold, and stone ornaments.
She didn’t realize that she had leaned forward to look until she saw the little shake of Holly’s head. Brandese straightened and waited.
Lord Evston selected a pair of ornaments that were shaped like flowers, with veins of gold and white stone petals. He fitted the open center over her left nipple and turned the bauble so that it tightened first firmly and then with a pinch.
She drew in a breath through parted lips, a wave of arousal washing over her.
He put the other in place on her right nipple.
