Chapter 21

Tavik lowered the blindfold over Naomi’s eyes. She stayed still and let him tie it snugly across her face. He then drew her arms behind the chair and tied her wrists. Naomi remembered bad lunch dates, but none of them compared to this.

She heard Tavik move and take a seat. She assumed he removed his mask. She listened to his silverware scrape and his chewing sounds. Naomi hoped the mouse did not stick his nose out while she was tied up. For one, she would not be able to stop Tavik if he decided to kill the rodent, and two, it was just embarrassing, and she somehow knew the mouse would tease her about it.

“Have you had a chance to look around the castle?”

Naomi frowned at the question. The question was perfectly fine, but being asked to participate in chitchat while one was restrained and blindfolded somehow seemed rude. “Yes, Mrs. Boon showed me around this morning. Your castle is very lovely.”

“I spoke to Geoff, the stable master. He expects you tomorrow morning to begin your lessons.”

“Thanks.” Naomi listened to Tavik’s silverware scrape some more. Hearing all these eating sounds was making her hungry. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She hoped Tavik was not a slow eater.

When something touched her lips, Naomi snapped her head so far to the side that her neck popped. “Jumpy,” Tavik commented.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s just a piece of cheese. I thought you were hungry.”

“Yeah, but--“ Naomi was unable to finish her protest with a piece of cheese suddenly in her mouth. Congratulations Naomi, you have just been force fed, she told herself as she sullenly chewed.

“A feast is being prepared in honor of my return. You will attend,” Tavik said.
Naomi nodded, knowing a command when she heard one. She felt something cool and round touch her lips.

“It’s a grape,” Tavik said.

Deciding to humor the man, Naomi opened her mouth and took the grape. “Yula will help you dress, and you will wear what is put out for you, understand?”

Naomi dutifully nodded. “A piece of beef,” Tavik said, holding a fork with meat to her mouth. Naomi let him feed her the bite. She firmly squelched down the question of whether or not he was using her fork or his the same way she had squelched the wonder if he had washed his hands.

“I could feed myself,” she grumbled.

“I like this better.”

Naomi sat back without a counter. Tavik placed another grape against her lips. Naomi ate the piece of fruit and quietly fumed. She was being fed like a baby. No, this was worse than a baby. A baby got to see the spoon coming.

"Is there anything you'd like to discuss?"

Naomi wasn't sure what he was getting at. She'd like to 'discuss' his trust issues. She'd like to 'discuss' his fascination with bondage. She'd like to 'discuss' a lot of things.

“What’s your problem with Agatha?” Naomi winced. She wished she'd held onto the question until she could see because she would have liked to have known if he reacted. The only reaction she got was another piece of cheese being brushed against her lips.

“Agatha and I have long been at odds.”

“How are you at odds?” Tavik slipped her another piece of beef.

“She doesn’t approve of my chosen god.”

“What now?”

“The god I worship. Agatha detests him.”

“What god do you worship?”

“Don’t you know?”

They were at that again. Naomi sighed and shook her head. “I’m not in cahoots with Agatha. I don’t know anything about her except that she finagled me into marrying you.”

“Which is a curious thing.”

“Huh?”

“My god forbids me from carnally knowing a woman.”

“You’re a monk?”

Tavik laughed quietly. “In a way, I suppose I am.” Naomi let that sink in.

“I never wanted a wife.”

“But you got me.”

“That’s right. I got you: The perfect wife. One who does not want to have my child or ever share my bed.”

“And that's good. Right? Unless--Do you guys practice polygamy?”

Tavik chuckled and fed Naomi another bite of food. “I would have to know what that was to practice it.”

“Can you have more than one wife at a time?”

“No, not exactly. A lord can take more than one war bride, but he is only actually married to the last one he took. He can discard any he took before that.” Naomi did not like the sound of this at all. She gulped nervously as she considered the implications for herself and all the connotations that ‘discard’ brought to mind. And he would leave again eventually to pillage another castle and possibly take a new wife.

“Oh, here, I should have offered before.”

Naomi didn’t know what he meant by that as her mind tried to scramble for an idea. She jerked again when unexpectedly a cup was placed to her lips. She felt the wine spill down her front. Tavik cursed softly.

Naomi dropped her head. “Sorry,” she said.

“No, it is my fault. You really don’t trust me at all.” Naomi wondered how he could expect her to trust him. She felt a cloth press her chin. She had felt the wine hit her on her chest. She hoped it had not stained her gown. It was a pale yellow, and she knew it would not come out of the cloth if it seeped in. She felt Tavik trail the napkin under her chin and over her neck. She probably looked a mess. The napkin moved lower to her chest. The gown had a generous scoop. Naomi had not thought anything of it when she had put the gown on this morning. She’d worn much more revealing things on her nights out, but she had never had a guy pawing her while she was blindfolded. She scolded herself for instantly jumping to conclusions with Tavik. He had just told her he was a monk! Sure, he was a mass murderer, but he wasn’t a lecherous one. Naomi’s mind almost imploded at the convoluted thought.

Tavik was still brushing the napkin slowly over her chest. Naomi thought he was doing a very thorough job. She froze when she felt the back of his fingers instead of the napkin touch her skin.

“Tavik?”

His hand disappeared. Naomi took a deep breath in relief. She thought she heard Tavik make a strangled sound. She realized her dress may have pulled somewhat tightly against her chest. What was her monk doing looking at her chest?

“Tavik?”

“Would you like some more wine?” His voice sounded tight. She simply nodded and held still this time for the cup to meet her lips. Tavik gently tilted the cup for her, and she sipped slowly. She nudged the cup with her mouth to indicate when she was done. She licked her lips to remove any lingering wine.

“I will not discard you."

“Sorry?”

“I will not discard you,” he repeated. “You are right. You are an even better disguise than my mask to hide what I am.”

“Glad I can be of service,” Naomi weakly joked. Oh God, Naomi realized, she was his beard.

“Naomi,” Tavik put his hand on her shoulder. “I know that it has been a hard couple of days, but I want you to know that I appreciate how well you have dealt with everything. An ordinary woman would have pulled her hair out by now and cried herself blind if she had had to go through what you have.”

Naomi felt uncomfortable with the praise. She wondered what Tavik would say if he knew she had been keeping herself from going crazy with thoughts of how to ditch him and get back to her home, but then again, she had a meeting with a talking mouse. Was she still sane? “I’m really not that special. Yula has gone through everything I have and more and has stayed strong.”

Tavik sighed, and his hand rubbed her shoulder. “Yes, Yula is strong too, but…” he trailed off with another sigh.

“But what?” Tavik’s softened voice was putting her on pins and needles.

“I’m not married to Yula.”

Continue to Chapter 22.