I climb the bed tentatively, still very much aware he growled.

  This is uncomfortable. Being so close to him is uncomfortable. And I find myself wishing for a war that would take him away from me. Don't they need him somewhere, anywhere else? Why does he have so much time to play nurse here with me?

  I get pulled from my thoughts when a goose's leg is brought close to my mouth. It looks so well-fed, I bet I will be full with just this leg. I am still full from this morning but stifle my words as I bite into the delicious meat. It’s salted just right, and it is not hard at all. Not at all like how I cook it.

  He brings a piece of bread with a generous amount of butter to my mouth, and I bite off a little more than I can chew. It’s different than yesterday. This one has a crunch, but it doesn't feel like I am chewing a rock in my mouth. It almost feels like it’s dissolving in my mouth.

  I have to stop myself from wiggling on his lap. The food is too good. Then I remember I have been eating this food all this time, or they are making better food because they think it's for him.

  I see his lips quip a little as he watches me with an otherwise neutral expression. I look away from him, forcing it all down my throat. Big mistake. A big chunk gets stuck in my throat, and I struggle to get it down. I move my hands indicating water but he doesn't seem to catch what I mean. I leap and take the water cup, throwing its contents down my mouth.

  His hand brushes my back as if encouraging the food down my throat. And I pant like I have just walked a mountain. He smiles a bit as he picks up the goose and I stop him with a raised hand.

  When he puts it down, his hand moves to my mouth, and I flinch. But he just wipes a remnant of the bread from my bottom lip. Letting out a sigh is all I can do, but I don’t say anything.

  Taking the basket, he heads for the door. He holds it open and stands, letting me know it's time to go. I can't lie, I am excited a little to see the sun. I move to the door and step out into the hallway for the first time in months.

  Vidar closes the door and starts walking. I trail behind him, until he stops and gives me a look, then starts walking again. Sighing internally, I quicken my steps to walk beside him. At the stairs he lets me walk in front of him and I feel his intense gaze behind me.

  When we step into the grand hallway, one of the servants I saw the day I arrived rushes to us. I can't figure out what he is. He looks like a leprechaun, but he is much larger than any leprechaun I've ever seen. Almost twice the size and a foot taller. Though he barely makes it to my shoulders.

  "My queen."

  I see worry in his eyes before he darts them to Vidar, and I could have sworn I saw disapproval in his face.

  This creature has balls of iron. I may like him after all.

  "Hello. My name is Thalia."

  He looks dumbfounded like I just told him he's been wrong all his life and the sun isn't yellow but it’s blue.

  "My queen, I'm sorry, but I cannot address you by anything lower."

  "My name isn't low," I spit out with more force than I mean, and instantly regret it when I see his face.

  "My apologies, my queen."

  I sigh and say no more. He won't stop. I am not Vidar's queen. I am not anyone's queen.

  "Come, baby bird. Daylights a wasting." Vidar takes me by my hand, something he hasn't done, and I let him lead me out as we leave the creature bowing.

  I feel awful for making him feel that way, but they all need to understand, I did not choose to be here. I am not happy being here.

  I pause as the first rays of sun hit my skin and I inhale deeply and exhale slowly, my eyes closed. Pulling my hand out of Vidar's, I start walking. The sun is so warm, it feels like its shining new life on me. My people are the descendants of peoples called people of the sun. The tribe with the most pigmented skin out of the other tribes.

  Though inter-breeding has softened some of the tribes' pigmentation, I am from one of the purest bloodlines. I exhale a long breath as I stretch my neck.

  When I open my eyes, I find Vidar staring at me with no shame in his godly body. Flames seep into his green eyes and I can't look away. I watch, fascinated as they change into a blazing orange before they slowly turn back to the piercing green. It is a fascinating sight.

  We stand there staring at each other, no one moving or saying anything. The god who haunts my dreams and makes my nightmares a reality.

  I turn my face away from him as I start walking, his gaze following me. Thankfully, he gives me room to walk by myself. My mouth falls open when I see the thick blood-red roses in the big flower garden. I've never seen so many in one place. They would make a beautiful and intense red for my painting.

  I wonder if Vidar would consider letting me pick a few. And if he will allow me to paint one of these days. My hands itch to have a brush in them again. But something pricks my finger as I reach out for the beautiful flowers, and I retreat my hand fast.

  In a flash, Vidar is at my side with a panicked look on his face.

  "Are you alright?"

  I see the concern on his face before he looks down at my pricked, bleeding finger and he takes my hand without waiting for my answer.

  "The flowers bit me," I say in a low, hoarse voice.

  He takes my finger to his mouth and envelopes it with his lips. His tongue caressing the wound. I close my eyes as intense sensations take me over. Multiple shivers run through my body as intense pleasure washes over me with every caress of his tongue, and without thinking about anything, I moan as I whimper in pleasure. It subsides after and my body feels lax.

  What was that?

  I pull my finger from his mouth with haste, and he emits a low growl of disapproval. It’s healed. I look up to him and my mouth opens with a question but closes before I make another sound.

  Do I really want to know what that was? It feels like something too dangerous for me to explore at this moment.

  I see his expectant face; he wants me to ask him about it, so I clamp my mouth shut, deciding I will pretend this didn't happen.

  I cross my arms over my chest, partly to hide the tremble of my recently-healed finger, and partly to close myself off and shut him out again. I can't afford to open up to him.

  We spend the rest of the afternoon sitting on a bench under a peach tree, appreciating the castle's landscape in silence. Lucky for me, he doesn't initiate any conversations either, and when it gets cold, we go inside and he follows behind me like he is the one serving me.

  Gawking Ghosts

  Thalia

  It's been a month since Vidar started coming here to force-feed me and we have gotten into a routine. Every day he shows up and places the tray on the bed before ordering me to his lap, and I always crawl like I am his pet. He returns for lunch, then we walk around the castle before dinner. He doesn't lock the door when he leaves, but I haven't ventured out on my own. Part of it is to prove I will not leap to take everything he gives me. That he doesn't control me with material things.

  Another part is all the servants of this castle calling me "my queen," like I am a pampered daughter of royalty. That is not me. I was born a village girl in one realm, turned slave in another. I am nobody's queen. Especially not of this castle.

  Vidar seems to be spending more and more time down here with me. At first it was to make sure I ate, but I am not sure if that is it anymore. And it’s not like I entertain him with humor or lengthily conversation. We hardly say two words to each other.

  I am on the last page of this book. I have been slacking on my reading since he started his visits, and I wish there was a way to ask him to stop. But I don't know if anything would work. He seems intent to suffocate me with his presence. Perhaps hoping one of these days I’ll forget his wrongs and jump to his embrace willingly.

  That will never happen.

  He finds me on the bed, squinting, hoping the last bits of sunlight stay till I finish this page. He walks in and places the tray on the bedside table, and sits on the bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. When he's seated, he places the tray between us and stares at me. I sigh and place my book on the other bedside table, noting the page.

  "I can eat on my own," I protest when I look at him, hoping he lets me off this leash. Haven't I been punished enough?

  He shakes his head and I wish I could smite him with my pillow.

  With gritted teeth, I climb on his lap. This is ridiculous. I cross my arms over my chest a little dramatically, but he doesn't give me any reaction.

  He takes the bread and brings it to my mouth before he gives me the soup. Then he takes a bite himself and drinks some of the soup. We share the food until it’s finished, then I slide from his lap back to where I was seated before.

  I reach for my book again, hoping he catches my hints.

  He moves the tray, and he places it on the side table again.

  "What are you reading there?" he asks, not sounding like someone who is on their way to the door.

  "The piano and the pauper," I say without looking up, wishing he would at least shut his soup hole so I can read in peace.

  "Hm, sounds interesting. Read it to me," he says casually.

  My eyes rise above my book with a glare. I hope he sees that's my 'no' face.

  He smirks at my obvious protest, then he stretches his body and lies on his back. I lift my head, frowning at him, but he takes another pillow and stuffs it under his head for support. In the back of my head, I'm hoping he is kidding.

  He can’t be serious.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I am waiting for you to read to me. Or I am sleeping here."

  "You can't do that!" My mouth shoots before my brain stops it.

  "How I see it, it's your choice, baby bird. You either read that for me or I sleep here… with you." He emphasizes the 'with you' like it's the threat he knows it is.

  "Vidar, no," I say, defeated.

  His eyes snap to me and they flash that brilliant orange. I guess he likes me calling him by his name. But he quickly goes back to looking at the ceiling.

  "It's getting dark, I can't see," I complain, hoping it works.

  He gets off bed and my insides flush with relief. But he takes the lamp and places it next to the headboard, somehow making it shine brighter. Of course, I’m not that lucky.

  The light barrels down at us, shining like it’s morning light and I want to strangle him. He comes back as I eye the door.

  What if I could…

  "I'd go after you and find you and sleep next to you wherever you go." He answers my unspoken question and a long groan escapes me at his words.

  He settles in and places his hands under his head and closes his eyes, waiting for his servant to read him a story. I don't move for a long time trying to process the sheer audacity and the incredulousness of the situation. But he peeps at me through one eye and clears his throat. I huff and start reading the page I was on.

  "From the beginning. I want to know what happened." He interrupts.

  I decide to indulge him, turning the pages very loudly and slowly; one at a time, so it takes forever. Which I realize after a few minutes doesn’t serve me at all because it means he will be staying longer.

  Back at the beginning, I started reading out loud. I read two chapters before I am tired.

  I hug the book close and descend into a blissful sleep.

  When I stir in the morning, powerful arms of a certain god of war clamp around me and I jolt awake. We are face to face. Too close. I stomp on the urge to touch his face or bask in this feeling. His powerful arms lock me in place as I try to break free.

  "You are crushing me."

  He loosens his hold on me after his eyes open.

  Was he even sleeping?

  I don't linger and head to the washroom, and don't come out until I hear the door open and close.

  Eventually, he comes back with breakfast.

  "I would like to take you to the library," he says as I take a spoonful of porridge.

  After last night, I am wary of his suggestions. What if the library is another ploy to get me in the same bed as him?

  I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you asking or are you threatening?"

  Hurt flashes in his eyes. "I am asking. I promise to leave you alone in there and tonight if you go."

  He knows just what to offer me to get me to say yes. But there is something else I want.

  "Where's Gary?"

  "He's in my chambers."

  I lift my eyebrow. "He stays up there with you?"

  He chuckles lightly. It's amazing how his whole face transforms when he isn't scowling. I'd tell him to smile more if we were anything.

  "He loves it up there. He has his own bed."

  I don't know why, but I feel jealous. Gary is my snag. I slaved for seven years to earn him. And he just took him from me too.

  "I'll bring him for you if you go to the library."

  "Why are you being nice?" I can't help uttering the question that has plagued me all month.

  "You are my soulmate, Thalia, how else would I treat you?"

  I stare into his eyes, not believing he is saying that to me. After everything he's put me through.

  How else would I treat you?!

  I move to get off his lap but he doesn't let me leave.

  "Let me go."

  "Never."

  I feel the promise behind his words and their absolution settles in me before his hand loosens on my hip and I crawl off and sit in the chair.

  After a few minutes, he leaves quietly.

  With everything that's happened and happening, I am only growing sure of one fact. Being next to him isn't doing me any good. Rather than grow in my hate like I want, my heart is growing closer to him. I almost wish he would be horrible to me. I’m beginning to forget how much he has taken from me.

  How he killed my fiancé.

  How he murdered my family.

  How he murdered my village.

  How he killed the mage in front of my eyes.

  How he hunted me throughout the realms.

  How he is responsible for me being a dirt eating slave for seven years.

  How he tricked me for a year and made me feel things I had no business feeling for him.

  And lastly, how he took the rest of me when he took my innocence.

  He is a monster whose cruelty has no rival. Cruel, calculating, and dangerously cunning. Not one I should warm to. But how do I stop what my heart is feeling? How do I stop my soul and body from yearning for him? And more importantly, how do I balance the monster who destroyed me with the man who gave me the best memories of my life?

  I can never have one without the other. What my heart wants is an impossibility. I can't forget, even if sometimes I wish I could. I can't forgive either. Falling into his arms would be the ultimate spit in the memory of my family's life and I can never do that. No matter how nice he is, or how much I may long for him.

  The souls of the dead weigh heavy on me. Their blood demands answers from me and it is hard ignoring all of them. Their snuffed potential gawks at me. The lives that could have been lived.

  I need to do something, and I need to do it fast.

  I can't keep letting him pull me in. With time, I may forget if things progress like they are. I need to find a way to fulfil the promise I made to myself, and soon. Even if I die trying, I must. For my conscious. For my own peace.

  The Librarian

  Thalia

  My mouth salivates at the sight before me. Rows and rows of high shelves on top of other shelves in a library that looks like it goes on forever. It’s intimidating, almost foreboding. Will I even be able to finish half of these books by the time my life ends?

  A familiar heaviness pushes at my feet. I smile as I pick up my little fuzz ball, trying to climb up my leg. "Gary!" I coo and he darts his tongue and licks me. Looking around I see no one.

  Vidar seems to be keeping to his word to leave me alone.

  I giggle as I tickle Gary, and he curls himself like he always does when I play with him. He clings to me, and I kiss my little ball of fur and set him down before I move into the library.

  The hefty creature joins me as I stand, trying to decide where to begin.

  The library is extensive.

  "My queen." The leprechaun clears his throat. "The Lord asked me to guide you around, so you know where everything is." His head is bowed, and I sigh to stifle my annoyance and protest at his insistence on calling me queen.

  "What is your name and what are you?" I ask, hoping I sound respectful.

  "I am Bhalar. The castle’s keeper and the lord's personal servant, and now yours too. I am a leprechaun, my queen."

  I exhale. "You really won't stop calling me 'queen', will you?" I know the answer, but I am hoping there is some way to make him stop.

  At the hint of a smile on his lips, I turn to start walking, defeated.

  Defeated by a leprechaun.

  His footsteps follow behind me.

  He gestures to the section on the immediate left. "This section is where all the novels, poetry, and leisure reads are kept. Where lord Vidar has been selecting your books from."

  My head snaps to him. "He has been picking the books I've been reading?" I can't help that it comes out more as an accusation than a question.

  Bhalar ducks his head like I will strike him any second. "Y-yes, queen."

  Turning away from him, I pick up Gary, brushing his fur. How many of these books has he read and why did he give me those specific books? Did he just take anything, or does he like those books? Does it matter? Do I care?

  Bhalar clears his throat, pulling me out of my thoughts and I follow him.

  "This section has the books about your realm, Midgard. The history, the people, the art, leaders, tribes, lineages. Maps, foods, notable individuals. Anything you can think of. And Lord Vidar keeps it updated personally. As he does all the sections." He says that with a fondness and pride I don't share, before he moves and points to the next section with bigger books.