So much for thwarting his opportunity to be snide.
“You put it in your mouth and clench it between your teeth,” I answer.
He nods. “Why?”
I swallow. “So you can bite down on it and stay quiet.”
“Correct. Your master will not wish to be disturbed by your noise. A good vessel is a quiet vessel.”
My heart is thrumming. Sothbridge isn’t really into all of this, is he? He doesn’t strike me as the sort. All this tradition stuff is just for show. When it is just the two of us, everything will be normal. Surely? He won’t expect me to bend over that thing with this thing between my teeth while he rails me?
Images of the well-used braces I have seen, flow across my mind. Braces covered in indentations from teeth. A shudder convulses through my body. Plenty of people do still expect that. I have seen the evidence. Seen it worn around the necks of my patients.
I shove the brace into my pocket. I don’t have to wear it around my neck like a nightmare-necklace until I’m married. Until then I’m just not going to think about it. Probably not the healthiest of coping mechanisms but it will have to do.
Richards gives me a small frown of disapproval but thankfully he says nothing. Instead, he merely turns and retrieves the next item. He presents the long, narrow box to me with a flourish, as if it is a bottle of fine champagne. I really, really don’t want to open it. But I do.
Oh my. Instant regret floods through me. It’s a dildo. In a very fancy red satin lined case, but still very much a dildo. It looks like clear glass and is exquisitely detailed, with veins and everything. I can’t possibly look at Richards and my cheeks are on fire. I’m trapped here, staring at this thing.
“The phallus is an exact replica of your husband-to-be. So you may practice accommodating him.”
A strange gurgling noise escapes from my throat. It feels like someone has taken a whisk to my brain. A replica? This detailed? This is wildly, wildly intimate. I feel like I should slam the lid shut so Richards stops staring at it. But there is another, far more pressing issue.
“It’s um… scaled up?” I whisper hopefully.
“No. Exact replica.”
My eyes are watering and I’m going to faint.
“Now, get undressed and on the bed. I will teach you how to prepare yourself to receive your husband.”
My gaze flicks up to him in horror. The gleam in his eyes is positively evil. He pulls a bottle of lube out of his pocket and my heart stops.
“No! I… I mean, that’s not necessary! I know how!”
He raises his eyebrow and gives me a thoroughly disparaging look. He knows I am a virgin. Everybody does. I’m a vessel. Having sex will change me forever and everybody will be able to tell. My innate magic will never be the same again.
“I’m a healer!” I explain. “I understand the… um physical side of things.”
Richards’s lip curls up in a sneer. “A duke consort with a trade? How vulgar.”
Damn my flaming cheeks and damn Richards. “I am going to give it up, of course,” I mumble.
Despite what Richards thinks, I know how to be proper. I’m going to be the best duke consort there ever was. If for no other reason than to spite everyone who thinks I can’t do it.
Richards glares at me disapprovingly for a moment longer. Then slowly, ever so slowly he replaces the bottle of lube into his pocket. I swear I see a flash of disappointment in his eyes and it makes my skin crawl.
“I trust you know how to draw the seven ritual circles, for when your master requires your magic for a specific casting?”
My throat is too tight to swallow. I know a ritual circle is a collection of runes and symbols drawn on the floor in chalk or blood. And I know the vessel lies inside it while their mage takes them, but that’s the extent of my knowledge. The burn of shame that flares through me hurts as I shake my head to admit my ignorance. Which was probably Richards’s intent.
He sighs as if the weight of the world is upon his shoulders.
“It’s going to be a long day.”
I agree. A long, awful day.
He moves towards the bare floorboards by my window and pulls out a packet of chalk. But, hey, at least it is not lube.
