Rules
1392 Words
Talia sat in front of the mirror, her attendant that Draco had assigned her standing behind her, dressing her hair. They had been discussing various, inconsequential things when Talia decided to bring Draco into the conversation.
"Isn’t it weird that I’m married to this stranger I know nothing about?" she said.
"You mean Draco, my boss?" The attendant chuckled.
"Why are you laughing? Is there something wrong with what I said?"
"No, darling. It’s just that Draco keeps a lot of secrets that even I’m not aware of."
"How do you know that?"
"Draco is like that with his other wives—"
"Huh?"
"I mean... I didn’t... That was a slip of the tongue. I meant the girlfriends he’s had in the past. Haha..." The attendant laughed nervously. Talia frowned.
Something was off with this woman.
"I’ll leave you alone now and go check if the dinner is ready," she said. She turned to leave when Draco walked in.
Talia glanced at him and noticed right away that he looked different that night. He was wearing a sweatshirt and blue pants. A much more casual look than she'd ever seen.
He closed the door behind him and tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked toward her, emotionless. When he stopped directly in front of her taking her chin in his thumb and forefinger. Talia held her breath, her body trembling in his grip.
" You haven't eaten, have you?"
" No, I was about to..." She said and he smirked, raising his hands to tuck the loose tendrils her attendant had left hanging next to her face behind her ears before speaking in a brisk tone that belied his gentle touch.
“Rule number one: you have to eat. You’ll need enough strength to handle your husband every night...” Draco smirked, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. “You look so feeble,” he added, picking up one of her arms and wobbling it playfully. “I might overwork you if I let you try at all.”
His lips curved into an evil grin as he stared at her beneath his lashes, clearly enjoying her confusion.
Talia blinked at him softly, her brows furrowing. What did he mean by handling him every night? This was the first time she’d ever heard something like that.
“Do you mean you have a job for me to handle?” she asked innocently, then continued before he could respond. “Don’t worry, I can do anything you want me to do. I'm a quick learner and I'm stronger than I look.”
Draco’s jaw tightened as his hand gripped the edge of the table and trapped her aggressively between his arms.
Talia’s hands immediately went to her chest, shielding herself from the beast in front of her. His expression was terrifying, his eyes dark and enraged, like she had said something unforgivable. In that moment, he looked more beast than man.
“Are you kidding me, Talia? Are you really this dumb? Tell me, I need to know!” he growled, his teeth gritting as he glared at her.
“What I said was simple—something even a two-year-old could understand. Do we really have to keep going like this?” he snapped, his voice rising.
Her teeth chattered in fear as she stared at him. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. She had grown up surrounded by love and sweetness, never once experiencing harsh words or raised voices.
But now, her own husband was scaring her more than anyone ever had. Her heart squeezed painfully as her eyes welled up with tears. She strained to hold them back, refusing to let them fall.
“I’m sorry. I...I don't understand. I’m so sorry,” she stammered, taking a deep gulp.
“Be sorry for yourself!” Draco barked, his voice sharp and cutting. “You’re my wife, so stop acting like a clueless fool. Do you hear me? I hate gullible people. You're twenty years old, for gods' sake! Grow up!”
Talia’s body trembled under his fury, her tears finally slipping down her cheeks despite her efforts to hold them back.
“I’ll try. I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice small and trembling as she made a slight pout, still shivering beneath him.
Draco’s sharp eyes followed the trail of her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. His gaze softened slightly as he met her tearful eyes.
She was crying. She was actually crying.
He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his thick, black hair in frustration. Leaning away from her, he tried to rein in his temper. He gave her another long, unreadable look before turning his back on her.
"Go have your dinner," he told her, turning toward the door. He stopped just as he reached it. "I won’t be around tomorrow, so don’t look for me."
"Where are you going?" Talia quickly asked, her voice barely a whisper, but luckily, he heard her.
He paused for a moment, the silence heavy before he gave her a curt response.
"I have important business to attend to. Don’t leave this building. Let me be clear—do not step out of this building," he said, pulling the door open.
"Goodnight," Talia whispered softly.
But he ignored her, walking out and slamming the door. The heavy wooden doors shut with a thunderous bang and Talia jumped. She froze for a moment making sure he was gone before she flung herself onto the bed, the tears coming to her eyes again in frustration and fear.
Her heart was still racing from the visit, and now, her appetite had completely disappeared.
"He called me a fool..." she muttered, counting on her fingers. "He called me gullible, he called me dumb, he called me an ass. What else?" She sniffed hard, her anger rising.
"If he doesn’t love me, why did he marry me?!" she cried aloud.
Her self-pity session was interrupted by a knock at the door.
Talia quickly scrambled under the blanket, turning on her side and squeezing her eyes shut determined to hide from any more insults. When she heard the big door creak open, Talia cracked one eye open, peeking out. It was one of the attendants she had met earlier, carrying a large tray. The smell of mouthwatering food immediately overcame her, tempting her to come out from her blanket cave.
"Your highness, I waited for you to come down, but you didn’t, so I brought your food upstairs. I hope you don’t mind?" the attendant asked with a kind smile.
"No, it’s fine. Thanks for bringing it up. You’re so nice," Talia replied, sitting up fully.
"You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job."
"What about Draco? Has he eaten his dinner?" Talia asked hesitantly.
"Oh, um..." The attendant scratched her head. "Well, the Master prefers eating out. He doesn’t eat the food I make. He actually employed me solely to cook for you."
"Why is that? Does he not like your cooking?"
"Maybe," the lady replied with a light laugh. "It’s hard to satisfy him sometimes."
She grinned playfully, and Talia let out a rough sigh before getting off the bed and walking toward the table. The woman couldn't help but see the tear tracks on Talia’s cheeks, and her smile faltered, her brows knitting together in concern.
"Your highness, dear..."
"Hmmm?” Talia turned to look at the older woman after taking her seat at the table where her meal had been set up.
“There are tear trails on your cheeks,” the attendant said softly.
Talia hurriedly wiped her face, clearing the evidence away. “Oh, it’s nothing serious. I hurt my ankle earlier, so I cried about it,” she giggled, trying to brush it off, then turned her attention back to her meal.
Her appetite had returned with a vengeance and she wasted no time devouring her food quickly. The woman watched her in silence, not wanting to interrupt. But deep down, she knew the young woman was hiding the real reason behind her tears.
The thought of it broke her heart. She hoped Talia wouldn’t have to endure the same torment that other girls under Draco had faced. Talia was too pure and innocent for that godforsaken beast.
- Writer
