WARNING: RAPE/SEXUAL ABUSE, ABUSE

I RECOMEND READING THE CHAPTER BECAUSE IT GIVES A HUGE INSIGHT TO RIONA CHARACTER...

Riona pov

Accepting the tea was my first mistake.

A few weeks passed and when I finally managed to sleep, Master John quickly rushed into the room dumping ice-cold water on me waking me up from the few hours of sleep I managed to somehow get. “Get her dressed in something nice make sure she is fresh and clean,” the master commanded as two ladies dragged me away and tried their best to clean me up and even used the quality objects that were only used for the high-in-demand harlots. There was no explanation but the answer was very clear. 

When I finally got dressed in somewhat decent clothing I heard someone come in. It was Martin. He was wearing the ring that the master used to control me and he was also wearing the warm smile he greeted me with every day. He had bought me.

When I arrived at his manor he helped me out of the carriage and finally spoke “I brought you to free you from your misery,” he claimed as he whispered something in his servant's ear “Prepare her and bring her to my chambers,”. In this world, the most innocent smiles are always worn by the ones that have no hearts. 

I sat in the bedchamber and my mind raced all over the place. I was going to lose my chastity. The door slowly creaked open that only made my muscles tense.

“My dear Riona, I hope you are settling in well?” he asked, waiting for my response but I couldn’t speak. I haven’t spoken in about a year. I was taught not to. “Riona my dear talk to me let me hear your voice,” he sang as he approached me.

He frowned when I didn’t reply. “Riona my dear if you don’t talk I will have to make you scream,” he warned, taking a collar and chain from a nearby drawer. I moved back clenching the bedding tightly in my hands. He climbed on the bed and I moved backward, somewhat reminding me of the first time we met. “Be a good girl for me,” he laughed. He was a fucking lunatic. I couldn't move. My body wouldn’t let me. He unfastened his buttons while licking his lips like he was being given a meal.

“S-stop,” I forced out painfully. My voice didn’t really sound like mine and it was so quiet. His cold hands traced my throat up and down “Your throat feels so great,” he whispered as he slammed my head onto the bed forcing me down, placing the collar around my neck, and chaining me down. I tried to kick and move but I was like an ant compared to him. I was his prey. He pressed downwards more on my throat, choking me not giving me a chance to beg. His mouth dived into mine as his other hand slid under my dress. 

Please stop. Stop. Someone help me. It hurts. My resistance was practically a tickle for him. My mind felt so dizzy. I felt awful. He tore my dress like an animal undressing me.  

When he wasn’t kissing me he was licking away my tears. When he wasn’t pulling my hair he choked me and bit me all over. When he was not doing any of those he thrust in so deep. I hate it. 

It wasn't like any torture I felt before and I knew it wouldn't be the last time I experienced something like this. 

I tried to defy him despite the life source slowly draining away from me. I was bound to all my owners by dark magic. I was so sick of it. I threw myself off the bed clashing with the cold hard floor laying there like a ragdoll. He simply laughed like the devil himself pulling my hair and slamming my head over and over again until I lost count and my vision was nothing but a wall of my blood.

He didn't stop even when night came or when I could barely sit up. He only stopped when he remembered that he needed to pick up his wife from his in-laws.

He left me in the cold room and told me with the same warm smile “Feel free to take a bath,”.

And here I was sitting in the cold water now dyed red by my blood. Everything hurts. I could barely walk or pick anything up. But I had to do it. 

I scrubbed and scrubbed. I was so dirty, so filthy. And no matter how much I scrubbed I could still feel his hands and lips on me. I think I spent hours every day trying to scrub away the filth. Whenever I ate something I remember when he opened my mouth and kissed me. The taste was unbearable as the memory sank into the scraps I called food. I couldn't eat, my stomach wouldn't allow it. I couldn't digest the feeling so instead I threw up, over and over again. I was his Mistress. My screams echoed in the manor. When he wasn't in the manor his wife simply hit me and the guards took turns with me.

One day, I walked wherever my body pulled me to, I was pulled to his private study. When I entered I found corpses hanging on the wall like decorations. Elves corpses. I knew there was a small proportion of survivors. But was this where I wanted to find them? Their intestines and organs all carved out, eyeballs in jars, Breasts…organs in jars. There were at least a hundred. My people have suffered so much…because of me. Because I was foolish enough to trust a human. 

I think I passed out cause when I woke up I was in a gown in the ballroom with Martin. And the dance was not sweet like Audrey had described it was anything but sweet.

But perhaps I deserved it? I was meant to be their symbol of hope but I was the symbol of their despair. They went through so much suffering perhaps I deserved to suffer.

“You're much more quiet and obedient today,” Martin commented as he stared into my eyes as if he was searching for the emotions he could toy with. But they weren't there. I felt empty… and pain was the only thing that brought me back to reality; it was the only thing that could remind me of everything. 

“Don't you ever feel disgusted staring at my body embraced with these scars?”  I asked 

“Your scars? They always heal slowly and disappear,” he replied as his hands slithered over my body.

I had the ability to heal even if the star worm slowed the process down. But why did I still see it? No matter how much time I bathed I could still see the scars that clinged to my body. I am so disgusting, my body was nothing but dirt. 

Perhaps it reminds me of the revenge that I needed to carry out…

“Riona,” a voice repeated

It was Adonis and I think, for a slight second, I saw concern in his eyes.

Right. I was at the banquet. My eyes lingered on Adonis' hands on my waist which reminded me of those feelings but I would have to deal with it, Adonis sighed as his eyes softened.

“If you are uncomfortable just tell me,” 

“Who said I was uncomforta-”

“You have been spaced, you look like you saw a demon and you are trembling,” he listed, as he removed his hands from my waist and twirled me around. This wasn't part of the dance.

His hands barely came in contact with me as he spun me around or took extra steps to create distance between us.

Was he doing this just because I seemed uncomfortable?