Master of Minds, Master of Me

It’s Sunday, two weeks and one day left. After yesterday’s talk with Max, I realized how much of a fool I have been. So I will do better. I’ve decided to stay in my room, not to enjoy the pleasantries the palace offers. I will focus on repenting. No garden, no greenhouse. I just can’t decide whether I should visit the church or not. Since I would be closer to God there, but I also enjoy my time with Father Owen. So maybe it’s better to pray in my room, at least for now.

I kneel beside my bed and place my hands on the mattress, closing my eyes. I pray for forgiveness, like I always do. Forgiveness for walking to that training ground and looking at Felix like that. I should not have done that. He’s going to slaughter the whole palace. I should not enjoy looking at someone like him. And I’m the one who wanted to avoid him, so why would I go there voluntarily to see him? It’s like there’s something unnatural pulling me toward him, and I need God’s help to resist that pull.

I spend hours in that position, kneeling beside my bed. I need to repent. I need to repay for my behavior. I won’t indulge myself in things I enjoy anymore. I don’t deserve those things. At some point, I hear a knock. I don’t answer.

“Lady Lorelia? Are you there?” It’s Milna.

“I’m praying. Come back later.”

“It’s almost lunchtime, Lady Lorelia. I came to ask whether you’d like to eat here or with the other candidates in the dining hall.”

“I don’t need lunch today. I ask you to please let me pray in peace.”

“But you need to eat, Lady Lorelia.”

I stay silent, hoping that’s answer enough. Soon I hear her footsteps moving away from the door. I don’t need to eat. There are so many people suffering from hunger, they need food, not me. I don’t deserve it.

I keep praying, going over the same things again and again, as if repetition could serve as proof that I truly mean my words. That they’re not just empty phrases. My knees begin to ache, my legs to tremble, but I won’t quit. The pain is only a punishment for my sins.

Then suddenly, I feel the mattress shift beneath my hands, and I instinctively open my eyes. Felix is sitting on my bed. Legs spread around me, and I am kneeling between them.

He is not here. Don’t fall for his tricks.

“I have to say, you kneeling like that right in front of me is truly a sight to behold.”

His smile is teasing, his eyes pierce into mine. He is not here. Just ignore him. I close my eyes and continue praying, ignoring the vision. But then I still see him, even though my eyes are shut. How is he doing this? I turn my head down toward the bed, trying to escape his gaze, but the vision follows wherever I look.

“You know that you can’t escape me, pretty flower.”

I feel panic creeping in. I try to push it down. Remember, he’s not really here.

“Leave me alone.” I manage to say. I’m not going to stay as a silent victim anymore.

“Oh? So you do speak? Usually, you just stare at me with those captivating eyes during my visions.”

I knew he was the one behind my torment, but hearing him say it makes the anger inside me boil.

“You promised not to come to see me.” I point out.

“You’re the one seeing me, pretty flower. There were no rules against that.”

His hand lands on my hair, sliding slowly against my cheek to my chin, lifting my face up. His eyes have grown darker. The piercing, alluring gaze drilling straight through me. But I won’t let it affect me. I notice my body reacting to him, but I ignore it, letting my mind take control. I won’t fall into the Devil’s trap again.

“Leave me alone,” I repeat.

He answers me with a pleased smirk. “You really are quite talkative today.” His thumb brushes over my lower lip. “If you’re that eager to use your mouth, I have a better idea for it.”

“I’m not going to kiss you.”

He chuckles low, dangerous. “Oh, I wasn’t thinking about kissing.”

He pulls my chin down, and my eyes land on the bulge in his pants right in front of me. Panic that I tried to suppress resurfaces powerfully. I immediately try to get up and move away, but I’ve been kneeling for hours. My legs are numb, and they give out on the first step and I start to fall. He grabs me by the waist and pulls me toward him. I fall on top of him as he lies back on the bed. His electrifying touch sends shivers through my body.

“Please, let me go,” I plead as I feel the rising heat inside me. I try to suppress it, but it’s getting harder and harder.

He keeps smiling, smirking teasingly. “Can you perhaps tame butterflies? The ones in my stomach are out of control.”

What? Butterflies? I place my hands on his chest, trying to push myself away. The shock is too great to process. I need to escape.

“Stop this!” My voice trembles with panic.

Then, in a second, he moves, pinning me beneath him. He grabs both my hands in one of his, pulling them above my head. I let out a loud yelp.

“Why would I? I thought you liked to play dirty.”

Dirty? Does he mean the chess game? Is he angry about it? Will he let me go if I ask for forgiveness? His free hand slides along my upper body. The tension and heat inside me are unbearable. It feels strange, unnatural and foreign.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper under my breath.

He leans toward my neck, his lips brushing my skin. “Sorry is not enough.”

“What do you want?”

“Hmm…” His lips kiss my neck as he thinks, and my core feels like it’s about to burst. The strange heat between my legs intensifies. “I want many things. But for now, I’ll settle for two. If you do those, I’ll let you go.”

“Anything.” I’m desperate. I need him to leave me alone.

I feel his smile against my neck. “First, you promise to call your maid and ask for food.”

What? Food? What the hell is wrong with him? Why would he want me to eat? I’m so confused, I don’t know what to say.

“Say it out loud. Promise me.”

Crap. I guess I just need to do what he says.

“I promise to ask for food,” I comply.

He withdraws from my neck and moves his face close to mine. His ocean-blue eyes had grown dark like a storming sea. I squeeze my legs together tighter.

He smiles, pleased. “And secondly, call me by my name.”

“What?” I didn’t mean to say that aloud. His demands are just too strange.

His exploring hand moves slowly upward, fingers curling gently around my throat. The danger increases. I feel like crying. Shocked, confused. Like I don’t recognize myself anymore, or at least not my body. He tilts my head and leans in to suck my neck. It feels the same as after the chess game. Please don’t tell me he’s giving me another hickey. The last one just started to fade. Or am I just imagining his touch, this is a vision after all. He sucks harder, and I can’t stop a tear from escaping the corner of my eye.

“Stop,” I plead, my voice low and shaky.

He withdraws and looks at me. “That was a punishment for not obeying me right away. Call me by my name.” His voice drops low.

I gulp, gather my courage, and whisper, “Felix.”

His hand leaves my throat and wipes the fallen tear as he smiles more warmly this time.

“Damn, my pretty flower is making me lose my mind.”

I’m making him lose his mind? I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.

“You said you would leave,” I remind him, my voice still shaky.

He gets up from the bed and walks toward the balcony. I sit up, staring at him. He stops next to my desk, takes a note and a pawn from his pocket, and places them there. He opens the balcony door and turns to look at me.

“I hope you keep your promise better than I do.” He winks and disappears.

I keep staring at the empty balcony, chest heaving, my mind and body shattered because of him. I don’t even know what to think or do. I was doing so well today, acting devoted, focused only on God, content. And all that shattered in seconds because of him.

And what did he mean, that I’d keep my promise better than he does? He hasn’t made any promises. Well, except the one about not seeing me for four weeks.

Wait. Does he mean that it wasn’t a vision this time? Was that really him? I bury my face in my hands, feeling ashamed. I should’ve tried to fight him harder, to stop him. I know I can’t do anything about his visions, but if it was really him, I could’ve at least tried. I’m utterly hopeless. Too weak to follow God’s will, too weak to find redemption.

I stand and walk to my desk, lifting the chess piece and picking up the note to read it.

If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.

How can he leave me a note like this after what he just did? I really don’t understand him. How can someone spread such a dangerous aura, and a moment later smile like an innocent sun and leave a note like this?