The first time that Tyne York betrayed me was when he asked me to meet a foreign dignitary on the Prince’s behalf.

The prince had been trying to convince a merchant of the Tamrin Village to donate a portion of his stake in the Elfen mines to Prince Caster. According to Tyne, the proceeds from the mine would be used to buy supplies for war and food to alleviate the famines. Prince Caster was too busy to meet with him and had gone on a trip with Genya. But Tyne was sure I could do the job just as well.

"The starved shall eat once more," Tyne said, eyes glittering. "And our warriors shall be ready for those bastard Northerners. All thanks to you."

He seemed already, strangely confident of my success but I wasn't confident of any such thing. After all, I'd only been taking his etiquette lessons for a few weeks, and in my mind, I was still so woefully unprepared for meetings with foreign dignitaries.

“Why do you think the merchant will listen to me?” I asked as Tyne draped a sash around my neck. He was also dressing me for the occasion so I would look like a noble, just as good as a queen.

“Because of your special talents,” he responded.

“What talents?” I was as untalented as they came. I couldn’t read, couldn’t sing or dance well enough to join the performance academy. There were no talents to speak of.

Tyne turned me around with one hand and tutted kindly. “You shouldn’t say such unkind things about yourself. You have many talents, my dear. You don’t even know how talented you are.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You have a way about you,” he said. “A natural diplomacy borne from a need of survival. You know how to appease people at the right time. Plus you’re beautiful, which can’t hurt when talking to a man who appreciates women's beauty.”

I blushed, as I did at all his compliments, feeling them slide through my body in a pleasurable wave. Tyne was not a traditionally handsome man, but he was the first man besides the Prince to be kind to me, and the Prince had grown scarcer and scarcer as of late.

"This is your first test,” Tyne said, his voice sweeter than honey. “It’s your chance to exercise everything I have taught you about diplomacy and foreign relations. Do you remember where the Tamrin village stands in order of allyship?"

I nodded. I wasn’t good at reading things so I had recited all his lessons to myself until they had stuck.

“Good,” he said and then he whispered a kiss on my cheek. "Now go and do what you need to do."

I nodded again. "I won't let you down."

I remembered then walking down the golden-lit hallways toward the dignitary's room, the darkness lurking in the corners where the light couldn't reach. I tried to calm my nerves by rehearsing everything Tyne told me to do, play the part of the dignified lady as he had taught me to be. The scarf he’d wrapped around my neck felt a little tight like it was choking me but I tried to breathe regardless and not hunch my shoulders even though everything felt a little too stiff.

A lady doesn’t hunch, Tyne had said. She walks straight to face the world like she knows they will fall at her feet. And they always do.

You're such a lady, I told myself, trying to assume a confidence I didn’t feel. You can do this.

I breathed deeply and slowly to settle my heart rate.

And in doing so, I suppressed the inherent instinct that something was wrong.

I knocked on the merchant's door and heard laughter through it. I knocked again.

Suddenly, the door pulled in and the man’s beady eyes ran down my form, a smarmy smile spreading across his lips.

“Tyne, you sly devil,” he murmured.

“My Lord,” I said and bowed like Tyne taught me to.

“Straighten girl,” the man said. “Let me see you.”

I did and he scanned me once more and gestured me in.

I walked in, preparing myself as the doors closed shut behind me.

“My Lord, Tyne sent me here to discuss–“

That were all the words I got out before he grabbed me.

I screamed. I fought. I did everything but it was no use.

The doors were too heavy for my screams to be heard. I was too weak to defend against him and even if I got to the doors there was nowhere for me to run to for help. The Merchant was the only one staying on this floor.

And Tyne knew all this. He had set it all up for that particular reason.

But he didn't get his wish that night.

"Settle down," The man's words were slurred as his hand wrapped around my throat while his other hand ripped open my blouse. I couldn't scream, but sheer terror had me jerking, reaching out to grab something, anything that would help me.

My hands closed over the neck of a bottle.

Which I promptly smashed into the side of his head.

The man didn't cry out, but as he flopped over, his body landed with a loud thunk. I scrambled out from underneath him and ran to the doors but found them locked. There was no key, meaning that they were locked on the outside. I didn't even stop to think about why that was.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

All I was focused on was escape.

I had to scale out the window and down the rocky ledge, praying I didn't fall to my death. Praying no one would see me with my blouse gaping open.

Luckily, the castle was relatively empty on that day, with Caster and Genya away on a trip and the King in a meeting.

I ducked and hid in corners as I snuck back to my room. Once there, I locked the door, sinking to the floor against it. My entire body shook, an involuntary reaction I couldn't control. My skin was raw where the beast grabbed me and around my neck where he tried to strangle me into submission. But that is nothing compared to the pain inside.

I had escaped him, but not the feeling he induced. The ugliness. The fear. The disgust.

I felt tainted. I felt broken. I felt dirty.

Later, after I lay in bed for God knew how many hours, Tyne came to check in on me.

I told him what happened and he appropriately faked outrage on my behalf.

"How dare he?" he said in such a dramatic voice that I should have seen the lie there.

“I would need to tell the Prince about this,” he followed with, caressing my hair while I sobbed silently into my pillow. “Prince Caster needs to know the vile things that man planned to do to you. How dare he touch the Prince's woman? I must tell him at once. Sure, that likely means that the famine will be worse and there will be war bu-“

“No.” I shook my head. “No war. Please, don't tell the Prince anything.”

“But I must my lady. How dare he touch the Golden Prince’s woman?”

"I don’t want him to know." I didn't want Caster to see me as disgusting too. It may be all he imagined when he touched me.

Tyne sighed deeply. “Fine. But I have to do something. I can't help but think this is my fault. I sent you in before you were ready..."

"No, Tyne please don't blame yourself." I sniffled back tears and reached out to take his disfigured hand but he flinched, shifting it back to present his good hand instead. "It's not your fault. It's mine. But please, keep this a secret from the Prince. I don't want anyone to know."

Tyne seemed to struggle with the decision, but he ultimately sighed.

"Fine," he said. "I’ll ensure that this secret never gets out."

"Thank you," I responded, then a new horrifying thought hit me. "But what if the merchant tells the Prince? I had to hit him with a bottle to get away. What if he's angry and starts a war?"

Tyne considers it. "Well, then we just have to make him no longer as angry."

"How?" I asked and a part of me feared what he would ask me to do. Maybe he'd ask me to go back there and follow through with what that man wanted, but I couldn't. Not even under the threat of war could I make myself do that.

I didn't barely escape Chief Bertrand to fall into the merchant's grimy hands.

Tyne touched my cheek. "You leave that to me. For tonight, just rest and recover. I'll take care of everything."

I nodded leaning into his comforting touch, even though that revulsion still rivuleted through me.

But eventually, thanks to some tea Tyne had brewed for me, I slept.

And in the morning, I found out the merchant was dead.

He died in a riding accident, it was told, and suffered a head wound. His body and his horse were found paces away from the Black Castle so there was no suspicion that he was killed here.

But I knew then that it was no coincidence. And while I didn't intend to kill him, I didn't feel bad that I likely did.

I thought that it was his price to pay for what he did to me.

He deserved it, and Tyne had moved the body to protect me. He'd kept my secret and saved me from imprisonment, and for that, I owed him my life.

Except, as I later found out, he never kept my secret at all.

Because the next time the King commanded Genya to burn me, she leaned in and whispered in my ear as her hands charred my flesh. “Does this feel better or worse than when that merchant violated you?”

----------------------------------------

I stare at Genya’s face now and suppress the instinctive dislike. I remind myself that it's not time to confront her yet, so I give a deferential bow instead. "My best greetings, my lady."

“Please,” she says with a radiant smile. “You don’t need to be so formal with me. I’m sure we’re already past that.”

It takes everything inside me but I force a smile back. "I’m grateful for your kindness, your grace. And your forgiveness considering how improperly I’d acted in the past.”

“Spare no further thoughts on that,” she says kindly and takes my hand. I don't flinch out of her hold, even though I half expect a scorching heat to follow. “In fact, I believe I’m the one who owes you an apology, for I’m sorry to have taken the love of your life.”

Oh, she just likes to rub that in, doesn't she?

“Well, I wouldn't necessarily call Prince Caster–“

“And believe me, I know how you feel. I understand the pain of sharing a bond or an affection with someone completely inappropriate for you,” she continues. “I understand more than most, especially given my history with your current partner.”

That wrinkles my eyebrows. “Who?”

“Wolf,” she says cheerily. “We have a long and passionate history together.”

Shock slams into me.

Liar, I want to scream. You're a damn liar.

“You and Wolf?”

She nods. “After he saved my life, we kept in touch. He insisted on it actually and well...you know how these things go. Eventually, I had to call off our trysts because of my engagement to the prince.”

My mouth is probably gaping open like a fish but I don't care. This is the greatest shock I’ve ever received, even greater than dying and coming back to life three times.

That one could be explained by magic.

I have no plausible explanation for what Genya is saying, and it's a shock that destabilizes me in a way I could never anticipate not in a million years.

“Oh dear,” Genya says in that mock saccharine tone she always uses when she's deeply enjoying my suffering. “I believe I’ve spoken too much. Please keep this a secret from Prince Caster. Although we’re not in love or anything, he can get quite possessive of me.”

And then her lips curl secretly as though she doesn't care whether I tell the Prince or not. Perhaps part of her wants me to go to Caster with the news so that I can once again play the part of jealous lover and she the part of the gracious fiancée, a lady worthy of being the future queen of this nation. It's a game we played many times before, and it's one she's good at winning.

So I refuse to play.

I regain my bearings as quickly and neatly as I can, and say, "Of course, I will keep it quiet from Prince Caster. It's the least I could do."

“Good. Well, I must return home now." She reaches out to kiss me on the cheek. She smells like roses. Sickening.

“It really is so nice seeing you again Adria," she whispers and then she withdraws her embrace and floats away.

Leaving me with a storm inside.

I stand there at the entrance of the bakery for what feels like eons, an inner turmoil raging. I nearly forget what I came here to do, and only remember when I see the flour store start closing up.

I rush to finish my shopping, but as I walk back to the cottage there's nothing to distract me from Genya's words anymore. I'm struggling to accept them, stuck between dismissing the entire thing as a lie or thinking that it's perhaps exaggerated.

Only, I recognize that smug look on Genya’s face. That wasn’t the look of someone who was lying. She knew I would ask Wolf about it and Wolf would tell me the truth.

And his truth would match hers.

Sourness turns my belly until it's sick.

Perhaps this shouldn't be a big deal, except that it changes everything I thought I knew about Wolf.

Wolf and Genya? How does that even happen?

And if he was with her, why did he seem so inexperienced with that kiss? Jealousy rears its ugly head, drawing indignation like a coat. Was that all an act? Was it a lie? Was he like that with all his women so that they would feel special?

And once it was over, would he treat me the same as he treats Genya now, with a complete and total disregard?

It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. He’s not yours anyway

I'm so distracted by my thoughts while walking on the grassland, that I almost don't hear the pattering of feet behind me.

And by the time I turn and see three large men charging at me, it's already too late.