That evening, I made my way to the scribe's chambers to check on his progress. His work had become pivotal to us now that he was studying the zombie. "You're doing well," I said, watching as he scribbled notes from a dusty tome on his desk. "If you discover anything… anything at all, come to me directly."
He nodded, bowing his head respectfully. "Yes, Your Highness."
As I left the dim room and began my walk back to my chambers, I was caught off guard by a familiar face in the hall—Beulah. She looked startled but remained silent, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. It was strange to see her wandering the castle at this hour, especially given her status. Young maidens like her, unmarried and of noble descent, were not typically out after dark. To do so was risky—not just because of the danger of zombies or wayward beasts, but because it was frowned upon. A woman out alone could be subject to unsavory assumptions.
Before either of us could speak, I saw a guard approaching down the corridor. Thinking quickly, I grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a stack of crates lining the hallway, hidden from view. "Stay close and keep quiet," I whispered.
Beulah pressed against me, her body warm and soft, her breath light as she nestled against my chest. I cursed myself as I felt an unwelcome reaction stir within me. I tried to think of anything to stop it—onions, horses, Lady Eleanor's incessant nagging… anything to keep my thoughts in check.
After a tense silence, Beulah whispered, "The guard is gone."
I exhaled, relieved. "Good," I muttered, quickly stepping back to create some distance.
She looked at me with a flicker of determination in her gaze. "I was trying to avoid Duncan," she admitted softly, casting a glance over her shoulder.
I frowned, feeling a flash of anger. "Duncan's been hounding me too," I said, shaking my head. "The man's relentless."
"Then marry me," she said, her voice steady, almost daring me.
My mouth dropped open. "What?"
Her expression remained firm. "If you married me, Duncan would have to leave me alone."
"Right," I scoffed, feeling the weight of the impossibility. "And then he'd have an actual reason to try and kill me."
But before I could say another word, I felt her hand dart downward, wrapping around my dick… I froze, my heart pounding as she held onto me firmly, her delicate hand an iron grip that left no room for retreat.
"W-what are you doing, Beulah?" I managed to stammer, shocked.
"Someone's coming, and if they see us like this…" she began, her eyes glinting with a fierce determination I'd never seen before. "They'll assume we're already… involved."
Her hand remained, causing a warmth that was anything but calming. I stared down at her, incredulous. "You… you planned this?"
"Not exactly," she murmured, glancing down the hall where the approaching footsteps grew louder. I silently begged her to let go, feeling trapped and entirely at her mercy.
"Damian?" A familiar voice broke through the tension, and I turned slowly, relief flooding me as I saw Kretha, my best friend, approaching with a curious look.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to maintain composure.
"Just returning from patrol," Kretha replied, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. "What are you doing hiding over there… and who's with you?"
Beulah released me, stepping out of the shadowed alcove. She avoided my gaze, her lips pressed tightly, frustration flickering across her face. Without a word, she slipped away, disappearing down the hall.
Kretha watched her go, then turned back to me with a raised eyebrow. "Beulah? Your brother's supposed mistress?"
I grimaced. "Well… technically, she isn't his mistress yet."
Kretha crossed her arms, smirking. "Sure, but she's who Duncan wants. Do you have any idea how angry he'll be if he finds out?"
"It's not that simple," I replied, unsure how to explain the twisted situation.
Kretha's gaze traveled downward, amusement dancing in her eyes. I quickly moved my hands to cover myself, mortified.
"Kretha!" I snapped, feeling my cheeks warm.
She just laughed, shaking her head as she patted my shoulder. "Just try not to get yourself killed, Damian. If you keep this up, Duncan's wrath might be the least of your worries."