Matron of the Void

Unfortunately, King turned out to be less of a masked BDSM idol and more of a starving apex predator who had spent thirty years pretending he didn’t need affection.

You cracked through the armor, the mask, the walls, and whatever deeply repressed emotional disaster was living underneath. Getting into King’s bed had taken skill, planning, and nerves of steel.

And it was a huge mistake because now you are trapped.

The next morning, you wake up and discover King has attached himself to you with the determination of super glue and the grip strength of a hydraulic press.

You attempt to leave. His arm tightens.

You attempt diplomacy.

“No.”

You attempt bribery.

“No.”

You attempt escape while he’s supposedly asleep.

A single golden eye opens.

“No.”

He isn’t even threatening you. You’ll soon discover he’s known about your little game a long time, which should be a death sentence, but won’t be because he’s finally found something he wants.

You gritted your teeth, tightening your jaw and angling your chin away from the offender in question.

"Don't look at him," you advised Diana. "You and I both know the Holy Knights flirt with all the precious little lambs. Don't think for a moment there's any real intention behind it. It's sport. He's tormenting us for the entertainment of it, the way a cat torments a particularly mindless mouse."

Diana did not heed you for so much as a heartbeat. She tilted her head, openly studying the man across the courtyard with all the subtlety of appraising livestock at market.

"Come now," she said. "We all know Garling Figarland is a bit of a... libertine, but he seems very keen on your attention these days."

"He is keen on nothing of the sort. He's a predator looking for an easy mark. If he thinks that his pulling my braids as kids was a sign of affection, he is very wrong." You spat out, arms folding, only for the sharp glance of your brother to unfold them.

Diana sighed, too entranced to care.

"He has looked over here four times. Just throw the man a glance. You can't entirely ignore him. He's bound to be the Commander of the Holy Knights. Oh--oh my, I think he even winked!"

You indeed were determined not to look at Garling Figarland now.

"He has looked over here zero times, because I have not been looking, because I am a person of dignity and restraint. I will not show an ounce of interest. If I wanted a peacock, I would ask for one."

"Five times now." Diana sighed happily, the way she did at weddings and at funerals where the deceased had been wealthy. "You really ought to let him court you a bit. Imagine the presents, the gowns, the clout--"

"Imagine the funeral," you corrected. "Mine. From boredom. The man has the personality of a very expensive letter opener. Sharp, decorative, and likely to bleed you if handled improperly."

"That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard you say."

You closed your eyes and prayed, briefly, to whichever saint was responsible for ungrateful friends and well-dressed nuisances. When you opened them, Garling Figarland had crossed half the courtyard, and the half he had crossed was the half between his end of it and yours.

"He's coming over here," Diana whispered, delighted.

"He'd better not."

"He absolutely is. Fix your hair."

"I will not fix my hair! Fixing my hair implies I care whether my hair is fixed, which I do not, which is the entire point I have been making for the past ten minutes."

Diana, traitor that she was, reached over and fixed your hair anyway.

By the time Garling arrived, sunlight catching the gold of his hair like it had been paid handsomely to do so, you had arranged your face into an expression of polite indifference that you were quite proud of. Hopefully, it was the expression of a woman who had not noticed him, who had never noticed him, who in fact might require a brief reminder of his name.

"My dearest friend," he said, and the corner of his mouth tilted with unbearable confidence. "You look as though you've been talking about something fetching."

"We were discussing the weather." You said flatly, before Diana could give away your slander.

"And is the weather doing something interesting?" He quiered, giving Diana a fair smile, only to turn back to you, stepping right into your personal space.

"Threatening to ruin everyone's afternoon." You said, taking a step back.

"Ah." He inclined his head, entirely unbothered, supremely pleased with himself. "Then I'm right on time."

He once again closed the distance.

It makes me feel like this