Page 41 of Heartless Prince

“They told me Elias King is my ‘master’. Apparently I’ve been sold to him specifically.”

Her face was still etched with confusion. “They didn’t tell me anything like that. I guess that means I could be given to anyone once they finish training us. Whatever that even means.”

I wondered why I’d already been assigned to a man when she hadn’t. In fact, I hadn’t heard any of the other girls talk about being given to anyone in particular either. Why was I different?

We settled into a grim silence. When my damp hair lay like a second skin over my cheeks and I felt like I’d been caught in a sudden storm, I turned the treadmill off and stepped away from it, whispering a brief ‘see you’ to Pri.

I told one of the guards I was done, and he nodded and led me into the communal bathroom. Before stepping into one of the showers, I looked at myself in the mirror, gawking at my sweaty form. The young woman who faced me wasn’t familiar. As much as I’d tried to keep my head straight and my resolve intact, I looked like a stranger with the bruised look of a victim. My skin was pale, my eyes had dark circles under them and a defeated expression within them, and my shoulders seemed permanently slouched in acceptance of my fate.

No.I couldn’t accept this. I couldn’t let them continue to break me down mentally, forcing me to believe I belonged here. I didn’t. No one did.

I turned my back on the strange woman in the mirror and stepped into the shower.

* * *

Elias cameto my cell later that day. He had a black bag in one hand and a long tool in the other. I recognized it immediately. A cattle prod.

I gulped and sat up on the bed. “What are you doing here?”

He stalked over to me, then held the cattle prod out to my abdomen and flicked a button. A painful zap shocked me, and my body jolted so far backward that I nearly fell off the bed.

“From now on, you don’t speak unless spoken to. Got it?” Elias said, a cruel smirk playing on his face. “And when you do, you address me as Master. There will be other rules, but we’ll go through them later.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He zapped me again, and I yelped. He brandished the prod threateningly in the air. “You want more?” he asked. Amusement and malice glittered in his eyes. He enjoyed hurting me. “Or should I take you out, string you up and whip you instead?”

I swallowed hard and shook my head, biting back any words of protest. It wasn’t the worst pain in the world. Being whipped would be far worse. I knew when to pick my battles, and this wasn’t the time. I would only get myself badly hurt.

“So,” he went on, putting down the prod and opening the bag. I half expected him to pull out some sort of medieval torture device, but instead he pulled a notebook and pen out and threw them on the bed. “This is for you. I know you were a journalism major. You love writing.”

“You’re letting me write something?” I asked, my heart leaping. That would be an incredible luxury. I’d be able to pass the long, mind-numbing hours in this cell by jotting down all sorts of things—my thoughts, feelings, even fictional worlds I created in my imagination just to amuse myself.

Elias picked up the prod and held it toward me again. I skittered backward. “What did I just tell you?” he said, eyes narrowed coldly.

“Um. I mean, are you letting me write something… Master?” I said, venom practically dripping off my tongue as I said the final word. There was no way I would ever accept him as my master, but if it meant I wouldn’t get shocked with the cattle prod or whipped half to death, I would say it just to protect myself.

“Sort of,” Elias replied, amusement flickering in his eyes again. “Last night, I called you ‘doll’, and afterwards, I realized how much I enjoyed that. So I’ve decided. That’s your new name. Doll. Because you are nothing but a fuck-doll. A toy for me to play with. And now, I want you to write lines to that effect.”

I gaped at him. My new name? Did he seriously think he could strip me of my identity as well as my dignity?

“I can tell by your face that you aren’t pleased with your new name, Doll,” Elias said. “But you need to realize: things have changed for you, permanently. It’s what you signed up for. If you refuse to accept this and continually displease me, I can do any number of things to punish that behavior. I can hurt you, I can take away your food, and I can prevent you from sleeping. I can even sell you to a far worse master. You don’t want that, do you?”

I shook my head, tears springing to my eyes. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry, and just this morning I’d been musing on the utter pointlessness of showing emotion in this place. But at the mention of being sold to someone even worse, I couldn’t help it.

Elias pointed to the notebook and pen. “I want this written five hundred times. My name is Doll. I belong to Elias King. Got it?”

“Five hundred times?” I said, my eyes widening. I knew I’d forgotten to call him ‘Master’, but I was too shocked to notice at first. It was bad enough that he wanted me to write lines like a misbehaving schoolgirl from the 1950’s, but five hundred times? My hand would fall off. “Master,” I finally added in a reluctant mutter.

“Yes. After you’ve done that, you might be more willing to accept your new place in life. Begin.”

Asshole.

My hands shook as I picked up the notebook and pen. This would take hours. If I took an estimated thirty seconds to write the two short sentences, that was still only a hundred and twenty per hour. Writing five hundred of them would take well over four hours, and that wasn’t including any breaks I had to take to rest my hand.

“I’m not completely sadistic,” Elias said. “If you finish without any issues, you will be rewarded.”

“How?” I asked, glancing up.

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