Let’s Play A Game
1091 Words
[Isolde]
It had been days.
Days since that night outside the stables, since Nikolai Quinn had wrung pleasure out of me with the smug ease of someone who expected to be unforgettable—and he was. Truthfully, whenever I thought about the way he'd handled me... I shivered.
But since then? He hadn't said a word.
Not a single mocking glance, no cocky smirk. No flirtations. No teasing remarks. Nothing.
It was like I was a smudge on his memory he'd decided not to acknowledge. And I'd love to say I was grateful for the reprieve—that being forgotten meant that he had lost interest. But I wasn't. I was humiliated.
Because I'd cried like a goddamn amateur.
Of all the things to do.
I was mortified whenever I looked into the mirror, wondering why the hell I had broken into tears like a pathetic, emotionally deprived little virgin. Sure, I might have been starved of intimacy, but I was far from a virgin.
I hadn't cried during s*x before. Not even on my first with Johnny. But maybe that was the point. Johnny never made me feel anything.
Not like him.
'Arghhh! Not like him?' I corrected myself. 'I can't be serious.'
I wanted to convince myself that I only felt paranoid, because Nikolai's loss of interest meant that he didn't need to keep my secret any longer—the one about me trying to kill his father.
Still, there was no universe where I could approach Nikolai Quinn and say: "Hey, sorry for sobbing while you were railing me like a motherfucking s*x god, I just didn't know what real pleasure felt like before then."
Yeah. That would go over well.
He'd probably grin and say something snide that would not only leave a permanent scar on my ego, but it would also be beyond embarrassing.
So, I said nothing.
I didn't avoid him, I just... stayed out of his way. As if I hadn't already left my pride lying in the grass that night.
Today, like every other day since my punishment detail, I was knee-deep in the stables. Changing the horses' water, mucking out stalls, trying not to gag at the sheer stench of everything behind the nose mask. I still hadn't been able to catch that mole Luna mentioned and until I did, my afternoons were often filled with me roaming through the woods with a stick in one hand.
Right now, my arms ached. My palms were red from the rope handle of the water pail. Sweat slicked the back of my neck, and hay clung to most parts of my dress.
Thankfully, the horses were nicer than the house owners. The air was colder than it had been when I arrived and I could only assume that it would begin to snow in a few weeks.
I was mid-pour, tipping the pail into the trough when I heard voices.
I didn't look up, but I recognised one of the male voices.
Nikolai's scent surpassed all other smells I'd handled all day long.
And the other person?
"It's always ironic to me," the unfamiliar voice began. "Animals riding animals. The only difference is that one sits at the top of the food chain, while the other is just that—an animal."
Nikolai scoffed. "Can't say I enjoy being compared to a horse, Anderson."
Anderson laughed. "How many servants does it take to clean this place?"
"Not enough. Because clearly, it still stinks."
They stepped into view as I straightened. Nikolai's eyes didn't linger, as expected. Anderson, however, did look. His lewd gaze slid over me slowly.
"Well, well," he murmured, tugging at his riding gloves. "You didn't say you had new stock."
I said nothing. Kept wiping down the trough with forced focus.
"Nice legs. Is she trained?" Anderson asked, loud enough that I had to hear.
My shoulders tensed. Was he talking about me or the horses?
"At least give me some credit," Nikolai sounded offended. "You know my type." I could feel his eyes boring into my back and there wasn't the least bit of tenderness in his voice. "Definitely not the kind that rolls around in a stable and smells like horse piss."
My grip tightened on the rag in my hand. There was no sarcasm in his words. Which meant that he was confirming I wasn't worth anything to him and that night together was something he also needed to forget.
Still, what hurt more was hearing him say those words in the presence of another person.
Anderson snorted. "You're no fun. If she smells, wash her." He made it seem like they'd been talking about horses all along.
"Suit yourself," Nikolai muttered, mounting his horse without sparing me a second glance.
I stayed where I was, lips pressed together, throat tight.
But as they led their horses out into the sunlight, Anderson reined his in gradually glanced towards me.
"You," he called.
I ignored him.
"You—maid. Get over here."
Nikolai didn't speak. He sat tall in his saddle, outside the stable doors, watching the treeline, as if none of this concerned him.
"Are you deaf?" Anderson barked. "Come here. I just thought of a game."
Slowly, I stepped out, wiping my palms over a rag. I kept my face unreadable.
"God, you're filthy." He whispered, scrunching his nose. Then his index finger lifted, pointing to the field. "Ever seen a fox hunt?" He grinned wickedly. "We're short on foxes today. Thought maybe you could play the role."
I raised a brow, wondering if he had gone mad.
"I'll give you a head start," Anderson said. "Run fast enough, and maybe I won't run you over."
"What?" I called out in disbelief. "You can't do that."
"What was that?"
"I said find a different sport."
Anderson's smile vanished immediately and his horse galloped towards me. In his left hand was a gun, and before I could consider whether to dodge or not, he slammed the butt of it into my shoulder.
The force of it sent me staggering back, but I didn't let myself fall.
Nikolai didn't interrupt.
"Don't sour my mood," Anderson said. "And out of the kindness of my heart, I'll give you a head start."
I stared at him.
"Now!" Anderson shot me a threatening look. "Start running."
I didn't move.
"Run little fox."
He nudged me with the butt of his gun. "I'll count to ten. And if you still haven't moved," his voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "I'll shoot you dead."
- Writer
