Chapter 7: The Inside of a Pomegranate
I tucked my linen shirt into my pants and looked absentmindedly at the mirror. Her cage was empty when I walked in from my bath. Egerton already mentioned that he needed to wash them and cloth them for Father's dinner tonight.
Lacing up the strings to my blouse, I thought back to the silver haired kitten my Uncle gifted me. He said she was a mouse, but when I saw the spark in her eyes I knew that she ate mice-like people for dinner. So the name I gave her fit, she was smart and cunning. To a point where I could almost hear the gears shifting in her mind at my every move.
She was as alluring as an Indian cobra, her skin soft and eyes so blue they looked ghostly. I wanted to bite into her flesh and see how red her blood ran in contrast to her eyes. Press into her stomach until I could feel her muscle like the seeds in the inside of a pomegranate. I wanted to see how far I could test her before she breaks.
I wasn't looking for a pet. In fact, I made sure my father knew this. I sought release in the pleasure districts and forget about the girl the next day. It was enough for me. Pet's were the things that Theo and Elle and my Father himself was very fond of. Yet, when I saw her licking up that water and saw it drip down to her thighs. I couldn't get myself to give her back.
I tied a loose knot once the laces were done. I turned, lifted a small vial of pressed cologne and pressed the glass dropper on my neck watching the liquid slide down to my collar. A knock sounded my door and I turned to see Birch leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets.
"My father and yours have nearly finished the bottle. You can't leave me to enter on my own to whatever futile conversation they're possibly enjoying." Birch's face lit with the flickers of candle, the flames acting as a dramatic gesture to highlight his cheekbones. I smirked and turned toward him.
"When have I ever done so?"
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The table was lined in Roman cloth and place mats with Greek embroidery embellished the plates
The table was lined in Roman cloth and place mats with Greek embroidery embellished the plates. "Nothing like a dinner at the Waitstills", my mother always used to say. As the guests enjoyed drinks around the living area, I sat and looked at the paintings that hung up on the wall behind the grand table. My father had hung the paintings after my mother died as a source of entertainment, before them there used to lay a grand piano on the front foyer. My mother used to play to abscond from the conversation and small talk made by the businessmen and aristocrats, and my father always looked at it as a manner of entertaining the guests. So they both enjoyed those few moments of mutual agreement.
Beneath the paintings on the table, Radella and her helping staff had brought out a feast fit for an army. Sweetmeats and stuffed turkeys of all sizes and shapes lined the middle row. Next to them jams, tarts and gravies of sweet and savory. Imported wine was in every glass, and there were servers holding copper carafes filled with the grape at every corner of the table.
Theo tapped my shoulder, hinting at our call to go stand at the table. I looked beside me at the magistrate that had been telling me about his last visit to some brothel whore who spilt candle wax on his cock. "It was a pleasure speaking to you, sir. I enjoyed our conversation" I put on my best smile and got up, looking at Theo with a roll of my eyes and a nod towards the table.
We stood at our usual seats at the head of the table, always leaving the front seat for our father. Finn in front of me, Theo next to me and Elle next to him. There was an empty seat for our mother that never got filled out. As the guests filled out, they stood in front of their seats waiting for our father to come out before we all sat own. I saw Birch and Cherry sit in front of me next to Finn and their parents; Dorian and Blossom soon joined them. The table started to fill as every guest lined the seats. Once Lincoln opened the garden door, I saw my father walk with Uncle Henley who had Aunt Luella on his arm.
My father stood behind his seat and said a word of thanks to our guests before motioning for us to sit. Once we finished our entrée's, Egerton softly opened the east wing door and in shuffled the various pets and slave-maidens of the family and the visitors.
First walked in Blythe, my fathers fifteen year old play pet and she made her way to my fathers chair, sitting down by his knee. As more shuffled in and went to kneel at their masters feet, I saw a ruggish boy go to Finn. I frowned at the sight and waited for him to look at me so I could question him with his eyes. Except he never did, he could barely tear his eyes away from the boy who stayed kneeling. In fact, the boy looked just as enamored as Finn. I turned to Theo, hoping he knew about Finn's new pet but all I saw was the hold he had on my sister. His fingers on her neck and kissing a line down to her breast. She giggled and pushed him away, but I could see the look of contempt on her brows.
My father always paid that no mind, because he never truly looked at Elle as his direct family. But deep inside I knew that if Elle had been a true born daughter of his, he still wouldn't care if his son fondled her.
Then I felt the air change temperature and I knew that my kitten had entered. I didn't look to her, only waited for her to come and kneel by my side. I wanted to know her name, but knew that was not something she would give up that easily. I felt her knee touch my thigh as she bent down and knelt. Her hands pressed into her thighs and she had the position of a submissive little pet but inside I knew she was brooding.
I turned my face to her and saw that her silver hair had been pulled up to a bun, but stray locks fell to curve around her face. They put the slaves in slightly more elegant clothing whenever there was a dinner function, but the corset she wore was strung so tight - her small breasts heaved with every breath she took.
I reach my hand out and stroke the top of her hair, stroking my fingers through a lock before tipping her chin up at me. Her breath hitched and I felt the heavy and hot exhales on my palm. She kept looking down, not once looking at me. I smirked and left her to stay there.
The dinner commenced and Birch kept eyeing me whenever I looked down at Kitten. He smirked and I rolled my eyes. I tried gaining Finn's attention once more but I saw that he was feeding his pet sweetmeat strips from his fingers. His pet took it willingly and licked the sugar from his fingers. I could see the clear flush of arousal on Finn's face and I never knew him to be like this. I looked at Father but he was too busy fingering Blythe's cunt to pay any attention to his sons.
I ate, drank and kept refilling my wine glass. Once the main course was finished, Radella and her help brought out the dessert which was a stream of butter cake discs and melted cocoa. I saw Kitten move slightly to make way for the server to place my dish down and right after I heard excessive coughing from the opposite side of the table in the middle.
My gaze shot to Birch tapping Cherry on the back and I looked to her to make sure everything was alright. When she was composed she didn't look at me, instead she narrowed her eyes and looked straight down at the silver head that was next to me.
Confused, I saw her drop her napkin and look under the table. A childish move but one nevertheless, when she got up from the table without a napkin in hand, I saw her paled face. A blatant look of recognition flitted through her eyelids and she swallowed and looked at me coldly.
I shook my head not understanding. She mouthed something which I didn't quite understand until she did it the second time.
"The missing girl on the papers"
My brows unknotted and I looked down at Kitten. It was her little sister that we met at the Shell, the one that seemed to get under Birch's skin. I looked back at Cherry with a heavy feeling in my chest and I mouthed back.
"Don't tell Birch"
Cherry looked grave but nodded anyway. She understood, Birch wouldn't. We never had connections with our slave's families. Call it cold hearted, but it made doing business easier. I reached for my glass of wine and downed the glass. I lifted my hand and made a gesture for the server boy to come and refill it with wine.
Once he did so, I swirled the glass and looked back at Kitten. She got more curious as the day went on, doing nothing remotely interesting or volatile as her nature when we were alone. Whatever game she was playing, she was learning how to play her cards. Making every move count.
"You must be thirsty, Kitten" I said in a hush.
She looked up and finally her eyes met mine. Her eyes were really that blue that I couldn't not look at them. She shook her head no and I smiled down at her menacingly. Reaching my hand to her cheek, I rubbed my thumb along her cheekbone, feeling the warmth her skin provided.
As I cupped her jaw and pressed into her bone, forcing her mouth to open I told her "It wasn't a question." I took a sip of the wine and placing the glass on the table, I leant my head down and slowly spit the wine from my mouth into hers. Her eyes widened in shock and her throat made soft gaging sounds wanting to swallow but not letting herself.
I saw the spark again and I removed my hand from her jaw and before I lifted my head up and returned to eat my dessert, I felt it.
She spurted the wine out of her mouth and on my shirt, staining the front. She moved the back of her hand to her mouth to clean the spit mixed with grape and looked up at me realizing what she had done.
An angry fever seethed through me as I looked down at the red patch that was bleeding into the middle of the linen and I clenched my fingers, before pushing my chair back and the whole table silenced at my uproar.
"Get up, you whore"
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