Violette POV
I didnât want to be touched. Or talked to. Or be around a single person. I just wanted to be left alone, but no one would. I was having a hard time grasping the fact that my throat had been slit by one of my Fathers men. I just couldnât stop repeating that night in my mind.
It felt like a terrifying nightmare that I absolutely could not wake up from. It was killing me.. I just couldnât figure out how I could possibly be okay again after this.
âKing Arthur sends his regards.â Is the last thing I heard before he sliced the knife across my throat. Youâd think with a collar on, thereâd be no room.. I guess thatâs what I get for having a long neck.
I used the be told that having a long neck was attractive. Many of my maids from home would say I had a beautiful neck.. that itâs a sign of great beauty.. but I only see it as a curse anymore.
âPlease, Violette. You need to bathe.â Viktor said softly. I didnât see why he cared. My view of the world has taken a drastic turn.. and all I could think was that this happened because Iâm his slave.
He held his hand out for me but I wouldnât take it.
âDonât make me pick you up. You know I will.â He said. If heâd just left me at home.. my father wouldnât have tried to kill me. At least thatâs what I want to believe.
âFine. Have it your way.â Viktor growled as he reached for me. I tried to kick him away but he was firm in his attempts. He held my arms down as he picked me up and walked me over to the tub.
He stood me on my feet and as much as I hated it, I didnât try to get away again.
âTake off your gown.â He said. My mind flashed with many memories of him saying that exact thing. It didnât make me feel the way it used to. Still, I didnât move.
âViolette, youâre making this more difficult than it has to be.â He sighed. He pressed his back against me as he reached around me and untied the string between my breasts.
I hadnât bathed in over a week. I hadnât changed since theyâd taken off the bloody gown from that night. I hadnât done anything but lie in bed and get angry every time someone bothered me.
He slid the dress down my body, I could hear his heart racing in his chest.. but he never made any advances.
âGet in. Please.â He said. I looked at him and shoved my finger into his chest. If I have to bathe, so he goes first.
âWhat?â He asked. I pressed my finger against his chest again before pointing to the bath.
âYou want me to get in?â He asked. I hesitated before finally nodding. If he was forcing me to bathe, he was a hypocrite.. because he absolutely reeked.
âFine.â He sighed. He pulled his shirt over his head and removed his pants and boxers.
He grabbed my hand and as much as I wanted to pull away, I didnât. His touch was somewhat comforting, even if I didnât want to admit it.
âIâll pick you up if I have to.â He said as he stepped to my side. I furrowed my brows and glared at him. He didnât have to bother me. He could just let me be, and I would be perfectly content.
I took a deep breath as I stepped into the bath. He kept his hand in mine as I lowered myself in.
âThere you go.â He said softly. I hated that he was being so nice. It irritated me in every way. A little part of my felt bad, but at the same time.. I didnât.
He stepped in behind me and lowered himself. Then, he grabbed the water glass, dipped it in the water, and began soaking my hair.
âIâm so sorry, Violette. I know itâs been hard. I know you donât want anything to do with any of us.. but you have to take care of yourself.â He said. If I could talk Iâd tell him I didnât care. I didnât care what I looked like, that i hadnât eaten.. I knew I looked different but it didnât bother me. I have no energy to take care of myself.
Sometimes I lay in bed at night, unable to sleep.. Iâll open my mouth but not a sound comes out. It frightens me that maybe Iâll never be able to speak again.. but at the same time, I enjoy the silence. Even if itâs my own.
My throat is still sore. Every swallow, every urge to cough, to sneeze, to drink.. I couldnât imagine eating. Even as Iâm healed I still have the pain. I just wish it would go away. I wish I would go away.
He lathered the soap into my hair, hints of lavender and chamomile filled my nose. Itâs quite the calming smell.. I must admit. I also hate to say it feels nice to be bathed. He rinsed my hair and began washing my shoulders.
Out of nowhere, I began crying. My throat burned in pain as i tried to hold it back.. But still, not a sound came out.. which made me cry even more.
âShh..â he tried his best to calm me but I just couldnât. He pulled my back against him and kissed my shoulder.
âI know youâre not okay. And I canât even begin to tell you how sorry I am.â He said softly. He reached forward and tilted my head just enough so that he could see my face, then wiped my tears with his thumb as they poured out of me.
I just want to feel. To feel safe.. to feel anything other than scared and the pure hatred for my Father that blackens my heart. I thought about that night constantly.. everything was so good. But it ended so badly. Most of the time I felt numb.. but I would have random bouts of these emotions and I hated them with all of my being.
I wish I could talk. To spill everything out in the open to free myself. Sometimes Iâd get close to writing it out, but I could never bring myself to do so.
âYou must hate me. After all.. Iâm the reason this happened. I made you my slave, and your father retaliated by trying to have you killed. Itâs okay to hate me.. but please, donât hate Beatrice or Lillian. They care so deeply for you. It pains them to have you treat them so poorly.. to see you in such a bad state that you canât even let them get close.â He said. It only made me cry harder. He lifted me up gently and helped me turn so that I could straddle his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and silently cried.
âYou have no idea how much you mean to us.â He said. Us? Goddess.. Iâve been awful. I wish I could apologize.. not even in my darkest days have I ever been so cruel.
Did he hear me call for him? When I was ripped through the woods.. scared for my life? I tried to shift but I couldnât.. I tried to fight back but I was weak. I called for him.. he was the person I knew could save me. The first and only person I thought of.
I pulled away so he could finish washing me. I chose to not fight him anymore.. it only makes everything worse.
When heâd finished, i began to wash him. I didnât realize how much this had affected him. He had dark circles under his tires eyes, his hair unkept, his scent was off because he too hadnât bothered to bathe. I forget that he watched it happen.. that it may have affected him more than I thought.
We stayed silent the rest of the bath. I just washed him, trying my best not to shut down again. He watched me carefully.. as if I were some broken thing that he wasnât sure could ever be fixed. If thatâs how he felt.. he was right. I donât think Iâll ever be the same.
When we were finished, he helped me out and dried me off. I looked up at him and felt calm. I didnât hate him. And I couldnât blame him for what my father did. Iâm sure if my Father had the guts he wouldâve done it long ago.
Viktor pulled a clean gown over me and tied it between my breasts. I hadnât realized someone had brought clean clothes for him until he began to dress after he dried off.
âYou need to eat. I will go get you something.â He said. As he turned away I reached for his arm. He looked back at me and I shook my head.
âPlease, Violette. You canât continue to starve yourself.â He said. I let him go and walked over to my desk, grabbing a piece of paper and my quill. I wrote down on the paper and held it out for him.
-Donât go.- the paper read.
âIf I donât, will you eat if I have Beatrice bring food?â He asked. I closed my eyes and nodded my head.
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