To The Princess Bound (33 page)

Village Life

The sun had gone down outside the window when the Emp came walking into the bedroom with a tray of steaming food.

Victory grimaced when she saw potatoes and a green mass of vegetables.  When he set it into her lap, she sniffed.  As far as she could tell, it wasn’t even spiced.  “Where’s the main course?”

Dragomir, who had sat down beside her, stopped, potato between his teeth, the fork spearing it still in his mouth.  “What?” he asked around the potato.  He honestly looked surprised.

Victory gestured at the plate.  “Where’s the
meat?
”

He glanced down at his plate, then at hers, then back up at her.  He took the fork out of his mouth and swallowed his potato.  “Um, Princess, welcome to the real world.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, let’s see,” Dragomir said.  “Between the hawks, the coyotes, the wolves, the martins, the bears, and the neighbor’s dogs, I have about thirty chickens I can eat in a year.  Any more than that, and I’m eating next year’s food supply.”

She scowled.  “I don’t want
chicken.
  I want
real
meat.  Beef.  Elk.  Bison.  Something with substance.  I’d even settle for a moose or deer.”

He stared at her, another potato speared and halfway to his mouth.  “…you’d…
settle
,” he said, sounding utterly flabbergasted.

“Yes,” Victory said.  “Go get me some steak or something.  Doesn’t have to be fancy.”

Dragomir stared at her.  Slowly, the Emp put his fork down and set his plate aside.  When he responded, it was slowly, as if talking to a small child.  “Princess, this might be a shock for you, coming from a fancy palace where you have people waiting on you hand and foot, but most of the world doesn’t eat steak each night.”  He gestured soberly at the vegetables.  “We eat what we can find, and are thankful for it.”

Victory snorted.  “Surely you have some pork.  I’d even settle for duck.”

He blinked at her.  “You’d
settle?
” he repeated, like a brain-dead ox.

She nodded.

Snorting, he picked up his plate and started stuffing his face again.  Victory narrowed her eyes at him.  “I’m waiting, slave.”

Dragomir looked at her over a forkful of green mush.  “If you’re not hungry, I’ll eat it.”

“Please do,” Victory said, disgusted.  She shoved it across the bed at him.  “Better yet, go feed it to your pigs.”

Dragomir laughed.  “If I could afford to own pigs, Princess, then we’d be eating pork.”

Victory scowled at him, sure this was some sort of trick.  When he continued eating, however, apparently savoring every bite, she finally began to lose confidence.  “You really don’t have any meat?”

“Meat’s a liability,” Dragomir said.  “It’s the first thing the Imperials take, when they raid a town.  Why spend half your yearly income on a flock of geese, when the Imperials are simply going to wring their necks and take them home for dinner?”

Victory frowned.  “You said you needed to check on your livestock.”

“I have a few goats,” Dragomir said.  “Turns out, the Imperials generally leave them pretty much alone.”

“
Goat
.”  Victory scrunched her face.  “Goat is unclean.”

“And that’s probably why,” Dragomir said, chuckling at her reaction.  He took another bite of potato.  “Why’s goat unclean?”

“Its flesh is the flesh of demons and succubi,” Victory replied.  “To eat it is to be inviting the Horned God’s Curse.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Dragomir said.  “I was thinking of butchering a buck here in the next couple days, in honor of my guests.  Come second thought, might be better not to waste the meat.”

Victory shuddered.  “Trade it for some pork.  Or some beef.”

Dragomir eyed her thoughtfully over his meal.  “I happen to like chevon.”

“Ugh!” Victory cried.  “You uncouth barbarian!”

Dragomir shrugged and finished his plate, then started on hers.  Victory watched him miserably.  “You don’t have any cheese?” she asked.  “Or bread?  Fruit?”

Dragomir grunted and finished the vegetables, then got up and strode from the room, his massive body moving like a big cat.  Victory watched him go, mouth open, heat pooling in her groin as she thought of the power that his body commanded…

…and what he looked like underneath the Imperial silks.

Dragomir came back a couple minutes later and dropped a wedge of cheese in her lap.  “There,” he said, gesturing.  “Cheese.”

Victory sighed in relief at seeing real food, then frowned.  “Where is my knife and fork?  My plate?  And crackers?”

Dragomir stared at her, obviously trying to determine if she were serious. 

When he realized she was, his mouth fell open. 

When she continued to wait patiently, he cried, “Oh for the gods’ hairy balls.”  He rolled his eyes and went to retrieve knife, fork, and plate.

“Cad,” Victory muttered at his back.

When he returned, Victory delicately cut herself a slice of cheese, wincing at how soft it was.  She wondered if peasants even knew how to make cheese properly, and if it was going to give her diarrhea.  She tasted a tiny portion between tongue and palate, swishing it around in her mouth warily before swallowing.  It had a faint aroma, like the smell of a barnyard.  She grimaced, but took another bite.  Even a peasant’s crude, barnyard cheese was better than plain, unspiced vegetables.

“Well?” Dragomir demanded.  “Does it pass with your approval?”

“It’s acceptable,” Victory said reluctantly, “Though it tastes of tainted milk.”  She ate quickly, then swished it down with the glass of plain, non-distilled, non-carbonated water that he gave her, barely able to swallow the wretched stuff.  Scowling at the empty cup, she said, “That tasted of minerals.  Have you put a filter on your well?”

“I got it from the stream an hour ago,” Dragomir said.  “I don’t have a well.”

Victory thought she was going to be sick.

“So,” he asked, looking at the empty rind.  “The cheese was good, then?”

“Like I said,” she replied, sliding the plate away from her, “It was a peasant’s poor imitation of cheese, not the real thing.”

His face darkened.  “I made that cheese.”

She looked him up and down.  “Are you not a peasant?”

“From goat’s milk.”

Victory felt her gorge rise.  Giving him a sweet a smile as she could, she said, “You’re lying.”

Dragomir gestured at the window outside.  “Do you see any cows out there, Princess?”  To accentuate his words, she could hear the distant sounds of goats bleating.

I just ate from the body of a goat,
Victory thought, staring down at her plate in horror.  She waited for the gods to strike her down.  When it didn’t happen, she cleared her throat.  Very politely, she said, “You are a monster.”

He chuckled and picked up her plate.  He was still laughing as he walked from the room and disappeared down the hall.

When he returned, Victory was still fighting the sick sensation in her stomach.  She gave him a sour look as he moved to the dresser and—

Her eyes widened when she realized he was taking off his clothes.  “What are you
doing?!
” she cried, scrabbling away from him.

He paused, his shirt half off, arms suspended above his head.  “Huh?”

“That!” she cried, gesturing at his rippling stomach. 

He looked down, then frowned.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“Yes, but now it’s…” she hesitated at the way her stomach was fluttering at the sight of his naked skin.  He was
beautiful
.  “…different,” she finished weakly.

“I get hot at night,” he complained.

“Keep your clothes on,” Victory snapped.  “That is a command.”

Dragomir chuckled and pulled his shirt the rest of the way off.  “You know,” he said, as he reached for his waistline, “I was only going to remove the shirt, Princess, but since there’s nothing down there that neither of us haven’t seen before, I figure I might as well get comfortable.”  He yanked the waistband off of his hips, and suddenly Victory’s heart was hammering at the sight of his naked thighs, the tight swell of his muscled posterior, the dangling flesh at the crux of his legs…

Caught between uncontrollable fear and unreasonable desire, Victory backed all the way to the end of her chain.

It was only for a moment, for in seconds he had crossed the room and was sliding under his homespun blankets, but in that moment, Victory found herself fighting a war within herself.  Whatever the Emp had unlocked, it was now working full force, and she felt heat pooling within her where nothing but cold numbness had rested for six years before.

Then she realized he had made no bed for her on the floor, and the extent of the room’s carpeting was one small, fuzzy hide that, now that she got a good look at it, looked as if it might have once belonged to a goat.

“Where am
I
going to sleep?” Victory growled.

The Emp opened one eye and cocked his head at her.  Then he glanced at the tiny spot beside him.  “I made this bed big enough for two,” he said, grinning.  He patted the blanket beside him.  “Hopin’ one day I’d need it, ya know?”

Victory scoffed.  “That bed is the size of my poodle’s mat.”

He gave her an irritated look.  “This is the biggest bed in my village.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Victory snorted.  “Bring me some blankets and some pillows.”

Dragomir chuckled, his blue eyes flashing.  “Princess, the only blankets and pillows in this entire house are right here beside me.”  He patted the tiny portion of space beside him.  Their bodies, she realized, would probably have to be
touching
for her not to fall off the edge.

Victory’s mouth fell open.  “You only have a single set of sheets?”  The
barbarian
!

“Like I said,” Dragomir growled.  “Welcome to reality, Princess.”

“How do you
clean
them?” Victory babbled.

“You take them out to the stream first thing in the morning, rub them down with soap, shake them out, and hang them out on the line.  Then you hope it doesn’t rain by the time it’s time to go to bed, or you’ll be sleeping in a jacket and a double layer of pants.”

This is insane,
Victory thought.  She would have to get her brother to deliver an allowance for the Emp, when he arrived to check on her.

Then she realized how stupid that idea was, considering that the Emp was holding her hostage and abusing her with his beautiful body and performing strange Emp experiments on her.  The first thing she was going to do when Matthias showed up was have him cut the chain from the bedpost and get her the hell back to civilization.

“You look a bit dazed,” Dragomir noted.  He yawned.  “You going to be all right?”

“I am
not
sleeping with you,” Victory blurted.

“Why not?” Dragomir asked.  “Have I molested you yet?”

“Of course you did,” Victory snapped.  “You chained me to a bedpost, dared to touch me with your body,
kissed
me…”

Dragomir sighed and laid back down, his elbows up, big hands cradling the back of his head as he stared at the ceiling.  “Good night.”

Victory crossed her arms over her chest and snorted her disgust.

Sometime during the night, Victory found herself nodding off.  She had eventually settled to the dirt floor with her back against a dresser, knees to her chest, trying not to shiver at the sudden cold in the place.

It has no heat regulator,
she thought, disgusted. 
I’m living with a complete barbarian.

“You come over here and I can warm you up, Princess,” came a soft voice from the bed.

“Mind your own business,” Victory snapped.  She started rocking and rubbing her arms, trying to rid herself of the goosebumps.  Was that her
breath
she was seeing?

“It’s really warm in here.  Goose down sewn into the blanket.”

“Shut up.”

She got up and started to pace, trying to get the blood moving again.

She heard a huge sigh from the bed, then the creak of wood as a great weight slipped from the mattress.  Victory turned, frowning.  “So, you finally decided to be a decent human being and get me a jack—”

Her words were cut off as Dragomir easily lifted her off her feet and carried her back to the bed.

“What?” Victory screeched, “No!  Don’t you even
dare
!”

And then he was flipping the cover back, settling her into the mattress, sliding under the covers behind her.

When Victory felt his big body slide up to meet hers, she panicked and tried to scrabble for the other side.

A big arm reached out, grabbed her around the waist, and dragged her back.  She felt him settle himself behind her, his body melding to hers.  Victory froze, realizing what parts of his naked anatomy were touching where.  With only her linen slave-shift between them, she felt every curve of his muscles, every line, every…bulge.