Once Tressa is settled on the floor, I pass her my plate, which I fill with my leftovers.
Tressa hesitates again, staring at the plate with something that looks like despair crossing her features, but eventually she accepts it.
“Eat,” I say.
She looks at me, and there’s so much humiliation and anger in her gaze that it nearly makes me flinch.
“I will eat because I am hungry,” she says. “But don’t think you have broken me.”
I grin at her. “I hope I haven’t.”
Then I watch her as she eats my leftovers. Even though she’s hungry and ravenous, even though she must be desperate for food after not eating all day, she eats as slowly and elegantly as she can. She refuses to show me how desperate she is, maintaining her dignity even in this humiliating position.
After she’s done, I tell her to clean up.
“Take everything back to the kitchen, then when you return, you will run me a bath.”
Tressa gets up and starts clearing the table, stacking the plates and gathering the silverware.
“Can’t you run your own bath?” she mutters.
“Not once since I was born have a run my own bath,” I say. “Why would I start now, especially when I have you?”
She scowls at me and leaves with the dirty plates balanced in her arms.
While she’s gone, I go into the bathroom and remove my jacket and my boots.
When Tressa comes back, she finds me standing in the middle of the palatial bathroom in only my crisp white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows, and my light pants. I am barefoot on the cool marble floor.
I cock an eyebrow at her when I catch her staring at me, then I motion to the massive tub that dominates one side of the room.
Once again, Tressa rolls her eyes and goes to turn on the water. She checks the temperature and deliberately turns it as hot as she can, so hot that steam rises from the surface.
“If that would be all, I will retreat for the night,” she says.
“Why would you think this is all?” I ask, moving closer to her. “You are to help me undress.”
Tressa stares at me in shock, her eyes going wide. She shakes her head.
“I will not help you undress. You are not a child.”
“I am your lord,” I say, my voice dropping lower. “And what I ask you to do, you will do.”
“I may be your servant, but I am not your slave. And I don’t appreciate you treating me like one.”
I smile at her and start unbuttoning my shirt. I look at her as she looks at me. Her eyes trace the path of my fingers moving down the row of buttons. As each one comes undone, I reveal more of the pale skin of my chest. When I get to the last button and shrug the shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, Tressa shakes her head. It’s as if she’s regaining her senses after being caught in some kind of trance.
“I will not be humiliated like this,” she snaps at me. “This is where I draw the line.”
She turns on her heel and walks out of the bathroom, then out of my chambers. She slams the door so hard that the walls shake.
My first impulse is to run after her and make her come back. Force her to undress me and assist me with my bath. Because there’s nothing I want more than for her to be with me, near me, looking at me and touching me.
There was something in her eyes when she watched me remove my shirt, something that looked almost like interest. I wonder if it was attraction… If only for a moment…
I know what I look like. No female – human, wyvern, or dragon – can look away from me when I’m in her presence. It’s just a fact of my existence.
But does Tressa find me attractive? And even if she does, to some extent, does the way I look excuse my awful personality? Does it make up for the cruelty, the humiliation, and the pain I keep inflicting on her?
