Page 22 of A Kingdom of Pleasure and Torment

“Perhaps you’re more faery than your mother was.”

It’s a joke, I know. But it pleases me that he’s said it. Should it please me? After all, I’ve spent so much of my life wishing I could be fae, wondering if I’ll ever fit in with the humans we lived among yet rarely encountered. But my mother also worried that she wasn’t fae enough. She was shunned by her court, after all.

“I’m a human,” I say, helpless to control the note of self-pity in my tone.

Luthian just waves a hand. “You’re potential. Nothing more at this stage, and nothing less. But potential is mighty. You’ve been here for two days, and you’ve already learned important truths about yourself and your desires.”

“I’m doing well, then?”

“I’m delighted with your progress,” he confirms. “But don’t congratulate yourself. There is still much for you to learn and experience, and we’ve not much time.”

“There isn’t?” I’m puzzled at that; he hasn’t mentioned time before.

“For my plan to work, you need to have ensnared Cassan by the night of his birthday party,” Luthian explains. “You needn’t know every detail. Just trust that it will work.”

“Yes, Guardian.” I’ll be more careful with my questions in the future.

“You enjoyed it when I inflicted pain upon Firo,” Luthian says, bringing us back to the original subject of our conversation. “But you’ll need to enjoy having pain inflicted upon you, as well.”

“Enjoy it, or bear it, Guardian?” I ask for clarity.

He seems delighted at the distinction. “This is what makes you such a good student. Enjoy, not just bear. This comes naturally to some. There are those truly blessed with an understanding of pain. Or a lack of fear. Others need to work at appreciating pain. The layers of meaning to it. You, for example. I believe you are a rare jewel, Cenere. One who can receive pain with the appreciation of all of your senses, but who can also create that pain and revel in it. If I teach you well enough—I assure you, I can—and you apply yourself to your studies, I dare say that your humanity will never be a burden or failing in the eyes of the court. And it will be more than adequate proof that you deserve the throne.”

“But only if I do exactly as you command, Guardian,” I add, because I’m still so eager to please him. I want to be his grandest creation, fulfill the potential he’s seen in me.

A smile tilts his lips. “Your skills at manipulation, however, need polishing.”

I lower my head in profound shame. “My apologies, Guardian. It was meant in earnest.”

“I know.” He walks slowly to stand before me, takes my chin in his hand to tip my gaze up. “That’s what requires polishing. There is no room for honesty at court if we are to achieve our goals.”

I wonder if that includes honesty between the two of us, but he is a faery. “Nothing without a price,” rings in my head, one of few rational thoughts that still intrude in my quiet moments. Is there some spell over me, some magic that Luthian has worked to keep me infatuated with his lessons? These thoughts of safety annoy me. They pass quickly, and I assume they will come less frequently throughout our practice.

“You’ve just learned to inflict torment. You’ve made a brief acquaintanceship with it, yourself. Now, it’s time to learn true erotic suffering.” Luthian uncorks the ampule and sprinkles seven drops in a circle around me. Then he steps back and waits in silence.

A dire rumble shakes the room. The candles gutter and flare, their wicks drowning in their waxy seas. The bottoms of my feet absorb the dreadful vibration and I stagger. I look down to see the stone floor of the dais creak and split. A wriggling black vine bursts up in front of me, slimy and coated with short, hooked thorns. It swivels about as if seeking something out. Another rises beside me, more behind me, and soon I am caged in by countless dripping, prickly stems.

Finding its mark, the first slaps against my wrist and wraps around and around, forming a gauntlet on my forearm. I shriek and try to pull away, but the thorns pierce my skin, holding me fast. The more I struggle, the more I tear at my flesh, and there is no hope of escaping, anyway; my knees buckle as another vine catches my foot. It fixes itself with its cruel thorns up the back of my thigh as a twin does the same work. They grasp my buttocks and join at my spine, winding all the way to my shoulders in a harness of pain. My other arm is captured, and soon I’m bound, impaled on hundreds of the cruel thorns.

I sag against the vines at my back, though the very action makes me cry out as the spikes drive deeper. I know they’re only as long as a fingernail, but to my mind, they’re enormous, ripping me apart. So, I do not fight against them as they raise my feet off the ground, tip me back, spread me wide. I’m supported by a throne of pain, in a chamber gone so utterly silent that only my muffled weeping is louder than the sound of my blood dripping on the broken floor.

Luthian steps forward, standing between my legs. “You know that you cannot possibly escape, don’t you?”

I want to nod, but any movement causes the vines to tighten.

“You know that I won’t let them kill you,” he says.

“Yes, Guardian,” I whimper.

“Yet still you fear?”

I do. I fear that whatever comes next will be too much to endure. But I don’t fear him. Foolish though it may be, I trust him when he promises that no real harm will come to me. So, I find my voice again to say, “I fear the pain, Guardian. I do not fear you.”

His starry eyes light with cold flame. “That is the wrong answer, Cenere.”

My stomach drops.

“You will find many at court who enjoy fear. Who employ it as another form of pleasure. You can, after all, sense that they are sisters, can you not?” He crooks a finger, beckoning, and something slithers where I cannot see. It’s another vine, sliding into place between my spread legs. My eyes widen as Luthian pets it. “I could, if I wished, command this vine to enter you as a lover. To rake its thorns through your untried flesh, to burrow deeply, to coil itself around and around, until its thickest part stretches your opening past its limit. I could do that to you right now.”

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