King of Anything

23

There was a knock at the door. I press the intercom lightly.

"Who is it?" I ask.

"Mistress, it's time for dinner. Please come out to the dining room."

I roll my eyes. "You didn't ask what was dinner."

"The Master chose this evening. I hope you will come out."

So scar has told him if I don't come out he'll be punished.

"Okay. I'm coming."

With a sigh, I put on my dinner gown, and heels. I put on some makeup, and some jewelry.

This was my favorite dress. It's white, with a scoop neckline, pearl decorating the neckline. It's simple, and beautiful.

I smile, looking in the mirror of my vanity.

I walk out, my feet adorned with my favorite red bottoms.

I walk to the dining room, looking up as I enter. Scar stands with a smile.

"You look beautiful," He took my hand. "And I would say you're late if I hadn't expected this already. The food is hot."

He pulls out my chair, as I sit down. His hand lingers around my bare neck, as he pushes my chair into the table.

"I had Joseph make your favorites,"

Joseph bows and I smile softly. "Thank you Joseph. Scar, if you think Filet Mignon and Caviar with toast will make up for the fact you're trying to use psychological manipulation against me, you're stupider than you look."

He sighs, cutting into the meet. "It's not against you. It's for you. But...let's not talk about this over dinner."

"Oh?" I remark lowly. "Should we talk about it while you subtly pound propaganda into my ear like some kind fascist regime?"

"Fascism isn't that bad. And yes, probably. Let's just enjoy the food, yes? I opened a 1863 red wine for you. To celebrate your return home."

I choke on the wine. "1863? How expensive is that?"

He shrugs, sipping from his wine flute. "If you told you; you'd choke on it again and it's far too expensive for that."

Oh god. I shake my head, sipping the wine. Eh, it's smooth.

Nice flavor.

"So, now, Dear; how are you settling in? I kept your old room exactly the same. Joseph our all your mangas into your bookshelf. Are they organized the way you wan—"

"You lied to me and said I was pregnant. You drugged me so that I would believe you. There's something wrong with you."

He sets his fork down, dabbing the side of his mouth elegantly. He sets his burning eyes on me.

"We're not having this discussion—"

"We are. We're having this discussion. The things you do, are beyond creepy. You always stray to the extremes of things. Climbing into my window, picking my locks. Faking my pregnancy , and threatening a doctor to corroborate your lie."

"Well, he did no harm," he jokes.

I roll my eyes. "He did do harm. You did harm. You do these thing without considering how I feel."

He sighs. "I do consider how you feel. You feel guilty, so I try to take that guilt from you. I tell you it's my fault. I tell you I'm sorry, you tell I'm not. I tell you you're right, you tell I'm wrong. Just tell me what you want from me!"

I set my own fork down. "I want you to stop trying to manipulate me. I want you to stop keeping me from pursing my punishment!"

"Oh I'm sorry, Dear. I don't want to see you dead. Silly me! How inconsiderate!" He sneers sarcastically.

"I want to be at peace! I want to take responsibility!"

"You can't have peace when you're dead!" He shouts back.

"How do you know?!" I shout in response.

"I don't. But I'm pretty f*****g sure, death isn't  peachy, because if it was, we wouldn't be required to do it!"

"I am sick of you trying to make me into someone I'm not!"

He c***s his head. "What the f**k are you talking about?! I just want you to be alive! Do you know what the death penalty feels like?"

I sit down. "It's painless."

He chuckles. "Is that what you think? Let me reassure: that's a lie. The lethal injection is not painless. You just don't see the pain. It's four chemicals. They shut down your systems. Slowly. Painfully. Your muscles can't move you're paralyzed but you feel it. Every second of it, till they stop your heart."

I pause. "How do you know?"

"Because I survived it. And I know." He eyed me, those two differently colors boring into me.

"It's not humane. Now, I believe people deserve. Some people do, and maybe I'm one of  them. But you're not. You done bad things, we have. But you do not deserve to die. And I won't let you."

H-he what?