Chapter 5 The First Words

I sat on the edge of the massive bed, my knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The silence of the mansion echoed louder than any scream. For once, he hadn't come the second the sun dipped beyond the horizon. That alone was enough to make my skin prickle with unease.

He was always angry, always cold-ripping me apart with his hands and never saying more than a command or a cruel insult. But tonight, the silence wrapped around me like a second skin. It scared me more than the sound of his belt.

Madam Yara's voice replayed in my mind. The elderly maid who'd shown me around earlier had spoken of him like he was a wounded boy, not the monster who treated me like I was made of nothing.

"He carries the weight of a thousand sins," she said as we walked through the halls earlier that morning. "But he's more than what he shows."

More? Was she blind? Or just loyal? Either way, I didn't believe her.

I heard the door creak open. My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

I didn't look up right away. But I knew it was him. I could feel him, the tension he always brought with him like a storm rolling through the room.

"Get up," I expected him to say.

But he didn't.

Instead, he stepped in, silent for a few seconds. And then, I heard it-his voice. Calm. Low. Too calm.

"You hate it here, don't you?"

I blinked. Slowly looked up.

He wasn't taking off his belt. He wasn't moving toward me with the usual hunger in his eyes. No-he stood there, hands in his pockets, like he was... thinking.

I didn't respond. I couldn't.

"Speak," he said, not as sharp this time.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "What do you think?" My voice came out dry, cracked. I hadn't spoken to him since the night he dragged me to the dinner table like I was a dog.

He stepped closer. "You're not starving anymore."

"That doesn't mean I'm living."

His eyes narrowed, and for a split second, I thought he might hit me. But he didn't. He just stood there, staring, like I was something he couldn't quite figure out.

I hated how good he looked even when I hated him. I hated how expensive his cologne smelled. How his shirt clung to his arms. I hated that even now, there was a stupid flutter in my chest when he came near.

He moved to sit at the edge of the bed.

And I flinched.

"Don't worry. I won't touch you tonight."

That was the biggest shock of all. My arms loosened from around my legs. I didn't know what to say.

"You think I'm a monster," he added. "You're not wrong."

"So what, is this the part where you confess your sins and expect me to forgive you?" I bit out, before I could stop myself.

His lips twitched. Not a smile. Not really. But something close. "You've got more bite than I thought."

"I have a lot of things you don't know about."

"I'm starting to see that."

A long pause stretched between us.

"I didn't want a wife," he said finally, voice low. "You were payment. That's how this works in my world."

I clenched my fists. "And what am I now? Your toy?"

He looked at me. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes. "You're something I don't understand."

I couldn't breathe.

He stood up suddenly. The softness-if that's what it was-vanished.

Then, just before he walked to the door, he paused. Looked over his shoulder. "Eat again tomorrow. You're just bones."

The door clicked shut.

And for the first time since I came into this house... I didn't cry.