Chereads / The Master's Lover / Chapter 8 - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Chapter 8

"Nothing my dearest cousin." She whispered. He smiled. He pointed to a chair for her to sit, and she did.

"You only call me that when you misbehave." He said with a raised eyebrow.

"…. I tried to sneak into your chambers to see the girl." She whispered quickly, looking at her slippers. He chuckled, catching the worried glances of passing by servants.

"I know," He said, twirling a pen in his hand. She waited for him to yell at her, but he never did, there was only silence. He never does, but it didn't stop her from assuming. "You may leave." He gestured to the door, and she left.

To him, she was his little sister. He had raised her after he killed his uncle in a struggle for the House and title. The mistress fled the castle, as she had stolen all the valuables in her lover's room. Beatrix was only 4, the young lord was 18, and had just taken control of the castle. No one knows why she left her own child, but many said it was because she carried the House of Thetas' blood. However, she didn't behave like he did, because she was normal. She was easy to read, because she was just a teenager that liked nice things, but that was not the case with her cousin.

She could never really read him, but she knew she could get away with more than anyone else. He never yelled at her or hurt her, but he did scare her. Through no fault of his own, it was more so that she could tell he was different even at a young age. He almost never smiled, and when he did, it was usually a bad thing. She also saw how everyone treated him, and decided for herself that she shouldn't do things that would make him upset. She pushed him not only today, but the day before as well. She would have to be more careful, since he seemed to be unstable.

Finally alone, he decided to finish his work and retired to his still sleeping Samira. He was so tempted to cradle her in his arms until she awoke, but he never understood why he felt that way in the first place. He thought about this carefully. He may be the Lord of Death, but he was a gentleman. He didn't understand why the pull to her was so strong. He had only known her for a few moments over the course of 2 or 3 days. Maybe she would reject him when she awoke.

No, she wouldn't, he chastised himself. Why was he worried anyway? He looked at her sleeping face, it was so calm. There wasn't a care in the world in her mind. She was dreaming of when she was a little girl, and her father had spare money. The money that they had taken was a loan with an impossibly high interest. She only knew at that point, they had warm bread. She knew that her father could afford even dried meats for soup back then. They were happy, she and her other 2 sisters. Both of them were older than her by a few years and got married before she was taken.

Lord Thetas didn't know what she was dreaming, but her small smile soothed him. He stood over her, stroking her hair gently. He promised himself that he would wake before she did and then slowly, got into the bed and held her, feeling satisfied. The vexing compulsion was acted upon, and the Lord of Death, for the first time since he became lord of the manor, slept well. It was a dreamless sound sleep, that no one dared interrupt. The head chamber servant even silently closed the door.

Samira's eyes fluttered, feeling strong arms around her. She snuggled into them, feeling safe, thinking she was still dreaming. She felt tingles where the arms touched her. These sparks traveled all over her body, and she felt the rise and fall of someone's breath on the nape of her neck. She felt her legs were intertwined with someone. She didn't want this moment to end. Samira had always wanted a strong man, and if he could only be in her dreams, she was content with that.

Lord Thetas was conflicted between moving or letting her wake. She would be afraid no matter what he did, he was the Master after all, but he didn't want her to be too afraid. He decided it was best to detach himself from her in his embrace, so she wouldn't get the wrong idea. In one swift motion, he got out of bed while she stirred slightly, clinging to the sheets as if she were looking for him. It pained him to see her yearn for him, because the feeling was mutual. The problem was that he knew she would be startled by the location change and would be even more so if she was in bed with a man.

He held his breath without realizing it because she was finally waking up. He had waited so long, as someone who was used to things happening when he commanded it. Samira was a bit disoriented and looked at the walls, then the fur blanket. Had she been found and saved from the cold? And if so by who? Who would care about a slave? She looked around the room to see that there was fresh food on the table. She knew it couldn't have been for her; she had been surviving off leftovers from the pots she scraped.

"Did you sleep well?" Said a deep voice tenderly. She froze, unable to answer, or continue her train of thought. Her safe, warm feeling was replaced by the cold sweat of fear. It was Master. She didn't know where she was, but he must have waited for her to awake to punish her himself. He sat in a chair in the corner of the room, not too far from where he slept.

Her master sighed, He figured she would be afraid, she was probably not used to someone speaking to her well. She was expected to say something, she didn't want to make things worse for herself.

"Well, Master." She stuttered shyly. Her fear caused her to stare at him, unable to look away. She was frozen like a doll, helplessly unable to avert her gaze. Though he did nothing. He also didn't move, and his returning stare wasn't hostile. She was confused. He took a breath. Her scent had been distracting him this entire time. His small movement was enough for her to whimper and look down, biting her lip. Her shyness didn't go unnoticed, but for her sake, he wouldn't bother her about it.

"I'm glad to hear that, little Samira." He relished hearing her name. It was like wine on his tongue. "You almost froze to death." He said with a frown, but it was misinterpreted by his slave, who thought she was in trouble.

She looked to the thick fur blanket, and the soft sheets that covered her body. She didn't know what to say to her master. She had never thought he would have her in his bed, and cared about her safety. She could thank him, that was the least she could do. "Thank you, Master." She said even quieter than when she first spoke. If he didn't have good hearing, he would not have noticed she said anything, even though he was looking at her.

He got up, and walked to her, making her heart race. She had never been in a man's bed before, or in a room alone like this with one, yet deep down she felt as though she could trust him. She was warm, and her bruises looked like they were healing. She didn't feel their dull ache on her arms, legs, and back.

"You're welcome, now come and eat." He motioned for her to come to him, and she hesitated. He was only a few paces away. She paused, as if waiting to see if he had really said such a thing to a slave so casually. He waited patiently; he was not going to repeat himself. He reached out his hand, as if coaxing a frightened kitten to come to him, and she hesitantly took it. He gave a small smile, something she had never seen before. It made her feel warm, even though they were in the utmost room in the castle. It was warm with the grand fireplace, glass windows, and sconces, but she was still cold from her fear. A shiver went down her spine, giving her goosebumps when he gently kissed her knuckles.

She froze stiff. No one had ever given her the greeting of a noble lady, and she was surprised. He said nothing and walked her to the small chair at his table. Her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird. She timidly sat in front of the food, daring not to touch a bite as much as she wanted to. She wanted to hear another confirmation, that she was supposed to eat, and that this wasn't a grand joke. Any minute, she was expecting someone to rush into the room and give the master a wooden spoon or a whip. A large hand grabbed an apple, and placed it in her delicate, cupped hands.

He didn't realize it was his intense gaze that intimidated her. She looked down at the floor, eating slowly, as if it were the only thing she was to have. She didn't know that she had slept so long that he had already bathed, changed clothes, and eaten. The only thing he hadn't done yet was shave, but he would do that tomorrow.