I lingered in my office until lunchtime, waiting for word from Leon. There was no way I could eat anything, but I wanted to go and check on Ivetta again, so I finally left the office and headed back to my room. She wasn’t there, and she’d very clearly finished tidying up as usual before she left. I hadn’t expected her to get back to work. I clenched my jaw and went to the library. If she was trying to pretend nothing had happened, she would be on her lunch break, sitting in the alcove reading.
She was there, with an open book in her lap, but she wasn’t reading, and she didn’t notice me walking up to her. There was a deep sadness about her as she stared out the window, a small, forlorn figure looking down at the gardens but not seeing anything. I stood next to her, my arms crossed over my chest, unsure of what to say or do. For the first time in my life, I felt helpless. I could - and would - ensure that the pimp paid for what he’d done to her, but I didn’t know how to help her now. And it hurt to see her like this. Eventually, she sighed and looked back at the book, closing it and hugging it tightly to her chest, and then she realized I was there and looked up at me. Her green eyes were filled with pain. Pain, and guilt, and despair.
“He’s been arrested,” I lied, hoping that would help.
“Oh.” She looked back down at her lap, biting her lip.
What now? What could I say to make her feel better? I was always several steps ahead of everybody, my words ready for any situation. But I didn’t know what to say to her. At the very least, I wasn’t leaving her alone again. I shouldn’t have left her alone to begin with.
“My office,” I finally said. “Bring that if you like.”
I spun on my heel and headed for the door, waiting there for her. She rose and followed me, still hugging the book to her chest, still looking down at the floor. Pitiful. Pathetic. Those were words that should never describe her, and yet that was what she had been reduced to. I led her back to my office and directed her to a chair in the corner, and then I went to my desk and forced myself to start going through the stack of paperwork piled neatly to one side. The folder about the Benitoite princess was there, too, but I ignored it. I was in no mood to consider a marriage proposal. Ivetta opened the book and tried to read, or pretended to read, but she didn’t turn a single page over the course of the next half hour. At one o’clock, she stood up to leave. I glanced up at her, but otherwise said nothing. If getting back to work made her feel better, or at least distracted her from her misery, then I wasn’t going to stop her. She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway - and all hell broke loose.
“There you are, you trumped up, no good little tart!” an unknown male voice spat angrily. She froze, the book falling from her hands, and I leaped to my feet.
“You’re nothing but the daughter of a whore, and you’ll never amount to anything but a whore yourself!”
I pulled her back and stepped in front of her, drawing my sword. Just outside of Leon’s office, a pair of guards were struggling to restrain a dirty, drunken man old enough to be her father. He reeked of alcohol and body odor, his gray-flecked brown hair greasy and unkempt, his bloodshot brown eyes staring right through me, still locked on her as he strained against his bonds. I didn’t need her to say a word to know that this was the man who’d had his filthy hands on her. Grabbing her, exposing her, touching her. If the guards didn’t get out of my way, they were going to be collateral damage.
Leon appeared in the doorway to his office, his amber eyes blazing as they looked past me to her.
“Chevalier! Not now! She’s scared to death as it is!” he snapped. Then, to the guards, “Get him out of here!”
The pimp was still spewing insults and curses, and it took everything in me to stay my hand. He was taller than me and at least twice her weight. The two armed guards were having trouble with him. How on earth had she escaped?
“And shut him up!” Leon added.
I reluctantly sheathed my sword and turned to face her. Her green eyes met mine, wide and frightened in a face completely drained of color, her whole body visibly shaking. I pulled her close to my side, my cloak wrapping around her and shielding her from sight as I steered her back into my office. As soon as the door shut behind us, I pulled her into a tight embrace. She closed her eyes and buried her face in my chest, but she didn’t cry.
“Forget everything he said to you. He is a fool, and his words are meaningless. Do you understand?”
She nodded wordlessly. Her breath came in short spurts, accompanied by an occasional whimper, each one a knife in my heart. Her trembling was getting worse. I tightened my arms around her, willing her to feel safe, to at least stop shaking. Suddenly she gasped, shoving me back with a strength I hadn’t thought possible for her to possess, and she darted to the wastebasket, falling to her knees and vomiting. I stared at her. She was so scared that she was vomiting. I’d seen fear, inflicted fear, but never had I seen anything like this. She sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth shakily with her apron. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she hugged herself tightly, her breathing still irregular. Did she even know I was here? No. No, she didn’t. She was trapped in her own mind, irrationally panicked, out of reach.
The door opened behind me, and then I registered Leon racing toward her. “Ivetta. Ivetta!”
His hand touched her shoulder, but she jerked violently away and scrambled to her feet, bolting for the door. The last thing she needed was to run into that pimp again. I caught her and spun her back into my arms. She fought me, a frightened wild animal fighting for her life, completely unaware of who I was or where she was. I had a hard time holding her, but I couldn’t release her. Not like this.
“Let me go!” she choked, pounding on my chest.
“Stop.”
Surprisingly, she responded to my sharp command. Her fists unclenched, her fingers curled tightly into my shirt, and she buried her face in my chest as her shoulders shook with sobs. I stared down at her in shock, afraid to relax my grip for even a second lest she make another escape attempt. But she had melted into my arms, clinging to me for dear life. She trusted me. Me over Leon. And his presence was possibly scaring her even more. He needed to leave. I looked over at him, the look on his face registering the same level of shock that I felt.
“Black, get out. Nobody comes in here.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then he responded with a hesitant nod. “Sure. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
The door closed behind him, and I stood still for a moment, unsure what to do next. This wasn’t my area of expertise. I was never the person of choice to comfort anybody. Put that pimp in front of me again, and I would know exactly what to do, but this - her - I didn’t know what to do with her. She felt like she would collapse if I let her go. I glanced at my chair, pushed out from my desk when I’d jumped to my feet, and I glanced back down at her. Would it scare her more if I picked her up? I decided to chance it, and when I scooped her up, she immediately wrapped her arms around my neck. Her response sent a strange jolt through me. She wasn’t trying to get away anymore. She was desperate for me not to let her go. I carried her across the room, this strong, vibrant woman who had been reduced to a frightened child, embracing her tightly on my lap as I sat down.
“You’re safe,” I said quietly. “He won’t hurt you again.”
She buried her face in my neck, shaking her head. “He’s been arrested before,” she managed to say. Her voice was thick with tears, but she was listening. Listening and responding. That encouraged me to keep talking, saying whatever came to mind next, hoping it was the right thing.
“He’s not getting out this time. Not anymore.”
“I was…thirteen…the first time he…” she stammered, choking before she could finish. Her fingers clutched desperately at my shirt, and she shook her head again. “He always comes back.”
No wonder she didn’t trust anybody. No wonder she thought she had to hide her pain and carry it alone. This had been going on for so long, and she’d had nobody to help her. I tightened my arms around her further, storing up more anger to be unleashed later on that pimp.
“Never again,” I said, my voice a low threat. “I’ll kill him before I allow him to touch you again.”
“This shouldn’t have happened,” she sobbed. “If I’d been paying attention-”
“You did nothing wrong,” I interrupted quickly. “There is no reason for you to feel ashamed.” I immediately realized my mistake, realized how harshly I had spoken. But all the tension left her body. Her fingers loosened from my shirt, and she fell limp in my arms.
“Thank you, Prince Chevalier,” she whispered, her breath warm on my shirt, soaked with her tears for the second time today. She nuzzled deeper into my neck, and I held her close, stroking her hair, until she stopped crying again. Only when she started to pull back did I loosen my grip on her, but I only allowed as much freedom as she requested, loath to let her go. She remained on my lap, wiping her face on her apron, making no complaints about my left hand on her waist, my right hand on the outside of her thigh just above her knee, holding her steady. Her apron and her hands dropped back into her lap, as did her gaze. I caught her chin with my right hand and gently tilted it up, studying her face. Her green eyes were raw and vulnerable, but at least the fear and shame were gone, and she didn’t try to look away from me.
“I need to have a word with Leon,” I said quietly. “Will you be okay here for a moment?”
She nodded, and I let her go. But when she stood, she swayed dangerously, and I caught her again as I stood.
“S-sorry,” she said softly, the surprising strength she’d used to fight me earlier completely spent.
“It’s alright,” I murmured, holding her arms gently but firmly. “I can stay.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.”
I scooped her up again and deposited her in my chair, brushing a stray hair back behind her ear. “Are you sure?”
Her green eyes met mine with a strange desperation. “You…you won’t be far?” she asked in a small voice.
My heart twisted in my chest. “No,” I reassured her, lightly brushing a tear from her cheek. “And I’ll be right back.”
She nodded, and I reluctantly left her. Leon was waiting just outside the door. “Here,” he said, handing me the fallen book. “How’s she doing?”
I said nothing, but returned to the quiet little form huddled in the chair.
“Thank you, Prince Chevalier,” she whispered, taking the book from me.
I left her again, closing the door behind me.39Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbuLZ91Hw6Q
