Page 43 of Cruel Master
Almost five hours past the time I was meant to see her. I imagine her staring at the timer, feeling abandoned, and swing my legs off the table. “I need to go.”
“Hadrian, for God’s sake. If you’re going to be stubborn, give me thirty minutes. Do you really want to see her when you can barely walk?”
I grit my teeth. He’s right. In this state, I wouldn’t even be able to get my costume on.
Someone poisoned me.
Don’t think about it. Focus on Juliet. She’s what matters.
Ophelia soon joins Doctor Richard, and he talks her through placing an IV drip in my arm to replenish everything I lost when they pumped my stomach. She works with calm efficiency, following instructions like any med student on placement. It’s so easy to forget she’s Sebastian’s slave.
Will Juliet be like this one day? Just living her life? It’s impossible to imagine, but I hope so. I watch the liquid drain from the IV bag, and my strength returns as it replenishes me, but my limbs still feel heavy. Worse, a thick fog hangs over my brain.
How will I become Saldar in this state? Thinking of Juliet alone and forgotten, all I want to do is comfort her. Before, when she’d had a bad day, we used to eat ice cream and watch the firstLord of the Ringsmovie under a blanket.
She must have seen it twenty times, but she called it comfort food for the mind. After a while, it became our thing. Right now, all I feel like doing is bringing her up to my apartment, putting the movie on, and pretending Saldar and everything else never existed.
I can’t, though. Of course I can’t.
“Some painkillers, and you should be able to cope for a couple of hours,” Doctor Richard says, sternly. “No longer, though. You need lots of liquids, some real food, and rest. And no strenuous activity.”
He says it pointedly, with a raised brow, and I cringe at the implication. In the Compound, everyone wears their sexualityright out in the open. Many parade their Wards around half naked. I’ve seen smart, dignified Ophelia, who is currently removing my IV, in a collar and leash enough times that I hardly register it anymore. I’ll never be like that, though.
Juliet is for my eyes only. I appreciate Gabriel and Sebastian checking on her, but I hate that they’ve seen her naked, even though I’m sure neither of them took any enjoyment from it. The last thing I need is Doctor Richard making jokes at my expense.
Or maybe I’m just in a bad mood. Either way, I’ve had enough. “I’m good to go now, thanks.”
My icy voice is almost worthy of Saldar, and the doctor steps back, hands raised. “No problem here. Just be careful. Come back for a checkup tomorrow morning, sooner if you start to feel unwell.”
I give him a curt nod and leave Medical. Two Gilda soldiers stationed outside the door snap to attention when I exit and fall into step with me as I head off. I stop, and they pause with me.
The older man, solidly built with gray peppering his hair, speaks at my questioning look. “Kendrick’s orders, sir. We’re to escort you around the Compound until they find the perpetrator.”
Because I’m in danger. That very vital fact hasn’t really sunk in yet, because my first instinct is to tell them to leave me alone. But they wouldn’t listen if the directive has come straight from Kendrick.
I stamp down my irritation. “Fine. But you can’t enter my Ward’s prison.”
“Understood, sir. We’ll wait outside.”
Awkward, imagining the two of them standing at attention while I’m busy with Juliet. Really, really awkward. I’ll deal with it, though. It’s not like I have a choice.
I reach Juliet’s prison, take a few extra minutes to shower and brush my teeth in the dressing room’s bathroom, then set my mind to becoming Saldar. How would Saldar react in a situation like this? I thought I’d planned for every eventuality. Getting poisoned never made the list.
As I dress myself in the suit, my mind calms. Something about wrapping the fabric over my body and placing the mask on my face detaches me from everything that just happened. I might have been poisoned, but Saldar wasn’t. External concerns fade away as I activate the monitors and focus on Juliet.
She’s sitting on the floor, blanket tight around her shoulders, curled into a ball. Her eyes are red and puffy, but she’s not crying any more, just vacantly staring. A bowl of oatmeal sits next to her, untouched, and I curse my own pettiness with the meals I’m letting her have. She needed comfort, and she got lumpy oatmeal. I’m an asshole.
You’re what she needs. Don’t forget it.
I steel myself and try to become Saldar. I can do it. I only need to focus. The door feels heavy, but I push it open anyway.
Juliet jumps like a firecracker went off when I enter, leaping to her feet with the blanket still clutched in her hands. She stares at me as wide-eyed as she was the first time I entered. Her bottom lip wobbles; then her fists clench harder on the blanket and she straightens her spine. So brave.
Her voice cracks, though, and she says, “You’re late. Master.”
I take a seat on the altar as she watches me, lip quivering as she struggles to hold herself together. The last five hours must have felt like days. Like an eternity. I can’t show weakness, but a master doesn’t have to be cruel all the time. “Come here. Give me the blanket.”
Her jaw tightens, and she hesitates but eventually does as she’s told, shoving the blanket toward me with an angry flourish.My marks stand out all over her body, darkening to every shade of purple on her pale skin. It stirs something primal inside me.
