“Why not? It’s about my son, isn’t it? What did he do?” His gaze dropped to the sheet with the crusty stain on the floor. An understanding spread on his face. “Lana, leave the boys alone. Please.”

“Leave them alone?” She walked menacingly slow to the cord of the bell by the door. “Of course that’d be your advice. Useless, like always. Do you even care about the reputation of my name or the marriage prospects of your son?”

She yanked on the cord with so much anger that I wondered how she didn’t rip it off.

I’d been told not to use the bell. The servants brought me food when instructed to do so by the mistress of the house. The rest I did on my own. But when Lady Lana rang it, a footman appeared almost immediately.

“Take Lord Ciric to his rooms,” she ordered. “He needs some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” the lord protested.

“Are you raising your voice on me?”

“No I’m not,” he spoke so quickly, he almost stuttered, tripping over the words.

She propped a hand on her hip, tapping her boot with her riding crop.

“It sounds very much like you are, husband. A rest would do your temper good. I’ll order to bring you some tea with the sleeping potion for you.”

Lord Ciric ran his hands through his light brown hair, his fingers trembling slightly.

“No. Not the sleeping potion, please. I’m not angry,” he said slowly, measuring every word. “I’m speaking reasonably.”

“And now you’re agitated. See?” she shrieked, poking with her riding crop at him like with a sword. “Do you need another trip to the water caves, Ciric? The witches there are so good at dealing with the male temper. They’ll calm your volatile nature in no time.”

His face paled, then turned mahogany brown, blending in with the wooden panels of the room in thereflectionof fear.

“No, Lana, please don’t do that again,” he begged. “Don’t send me to the caves.”

“It’s for your own good, darling. The treatments proved beneficial for your frazzled nerves the last time. You were so quiet and docile when you returned from the caves. And now, look at you again. You can’t even follow a simple instruction.” She folded her arms across her chest, the riding crop dangling in her fingers. “Let the man take you to your rooms, Ciric. It’s too stressful for you to stay here. I’ll handle all problems with our son, including this one.”

Lord Ciric was bigger than his wife. She wouldn’t be able to physically overpower him. But she didn’t need to do it herself. She paid men to handle him for her. A second footman showedup. The two servants then led the lord away as he gritted his teeth. Defiance burned in his eyes, but he didn’t dare let it out.

“You.” She turned to her son again after her husband’s departure. “Take this sheet down to the kitchen and wash it yourself. I want you to do it in front of all the servants. Let the shame stop you from ever doing something like that again. Then you spend the rest of the day praying to Yarnus to grant you the virtue that you so clearly lack.”

With a sniffle, Emil grabbed the sheet and ran—angry, scared, but relieved to get away, no doubt.

I sidestepped Lady Lana on my way to the exit, but she shot her arm out, stopping me with her riding crop.

“So, is that true, Salas? Did you climb into my son’s bed to take a nap? Did you touch yourself while you day-dreamed? What was that dream? Tell me. Who did you dream about while you stroked your cock?”

“I didn’t, my lady. I never went to Emil’s room today. Ask the servants. We’ve been here since lunch.”

Only I had a feeling she didn’t care about the truth. She lived in her own fantasy, the one where I was in bed with my cock in my hand.

Pressing the end of the riding crop to my chest, she circled me on her way to the door, then closed and locked it. Her hand went to the buttons in front of her dress.

Alarm shot through my body with both chills and heat.

I swallowed hard. “My lady. I need to go. Please.”

The riding crop swished through the air, searing my cheek with a burning slap. I gasped, cupping my cheek, heat flaming under my palm.

“You do what I say,” she snapped. “And I say that you stay.”

“No.” I whipped toward the door.

She grabbed my hair, yanking back my head. Pain jolted my instinct of self-defense. Swinging a fist, I spun to punch her and...froze.