Naomi looked around the room then down at the cup. Then back around the room. Then again at the cup.
No. Way.
“Hello?”
“Hello! Is this how you greet all new acquaintances? Trap them, maim them, and then chit chat!”
She looked around the room again to see if there was any explanation other than the ridiculous one before her. She was definitely alone in the room, and the cup was still swearing at her.
“Let me out of here, bitch! I didn’t do anything to you! Let me go or I’ll, I’ll…”
“You’ll what! You’re a freaking mouse!” Did she really just say that?
“I’m a talking mouse! If I can talk, just think what else I can do!” Naomi’s sense of humor finally kicked in because really the mouse could talk, but he talked in a mouse voice. It was high pitched, and he made little sucking and whistling noises through his teeth. Threatening wasn’t a tone he was capable of.
She decided at that moment that this was one messed up world. It had two ugly moons, unicorns, killer kangaroos, and talking mice. What could be next--floating trees?
“I’m kind of new to this world. Do all vermin talk?”
“Vermin! I’m not vermin! I’m a respectable mouse!”
Laughter bubbled in her throat, but she swallowed it back. “OK, so how come you talk?”
The cup didn't respond. “Are you going to answer me, or have I stopped hallucinating?”
She heard some mumbling from under the cup. “I can’t hear you,” she singsonged. She was losing it. This place had made her bonkers.
“I was a wizard, but I added powdered aardvark instead of ashes of phoenix to a brew I was making. It exploded, and I woke up like this.”
“Do you work for Tavik?”
“That scum lord? Pshaw! I’m only in this castle because it’s the best place to get scraps. Why if I were in my true form, I would turn that bastard into a duck and then have duck soup for dinner!” Naomi’s lips twitched at the mouse’s bravado, but a light bulb went off over her head.
“If you’re a wizard, you know stuff right?”
“If I’m a wizard? I'll have you know, Miss Sadist, that I am one of the most knowledgeable wizards in the land! I know more stuff than you could even comprehend, and you are still killing my tail!”
She tilted the cup a smidgen and watched the little hairless appendage zip underneath. “What do you know about unicorns?”
“Tons! I know what they eat, drink, where they sleep, how they mate, where they run! I am the ultimate expert on unicorns.”
“Because you are the ultimate expert on everything?”
“Damn right, missy.”
“All right, if you tell me everything you know about unicorns, I’ll make you fat with all the cheese you can eat.”
“Can I get wine too?”
She quirked an eyebrow at the addition. “Yes, wine too.”
“Will you let me out from under this cup?”
“Do you promise to not run away and never come back?”
“Do you promise not to kill me, cut off my tail, break any of my bones, snip my whiskers, clip my ears, or make me spurt blood in any way?”
Jeez, he was one paranoid little mouse. She thought he was cute. “I promise not to hurt you in anyway if you tell me about unicorns and not just promise to. For every bit of cheese and sip of wine I give, you have to tell me something about unicorns.”
“Fair enough. Will you lift this damn cup already?”
She lifted the cup, and the mouse looked up at her with twitching whiskers. She stared back, waiting for it to say something. Instead, the mouse turned tail and dashed underneath the bed. She lunged to catch it, but she was too slow for the surprisingly fast mouse.
“Hey, we made a deal!”
From under the bed, came the reply, “Yes, we did. Stock up on wine and cheese. I know a hell of a lot about unicorns.”
“Like what!” she shouted, but the little voice didn’t answer. She looked underneath the bed, and she could see a small jagged hole.
“Milady, have you lost something?” Yula asked.
She sighed and got up off the floor. “Yeah, my marbles,” she grumbled. Had she really made a deal with a talking mouse? When she turned around, she saw Yula’s usually placid face was set in an angry scowl.
The cook stepped aside to reveal another woman behind her. “Mrs. Boon is here.”
The other woman was round in face and body, but her face did not look like it was naturally inclined to smile. Currently, her face was very rigid and stern. She had her hands clasped in front of her, and they rested on the top of her belly. She had a kerchief covering her hair and a long white apron over her dress. Naomi extended her hand in greeting. The housekeeper looked down upon her outstretched hand and raised an imperious eyebrow. After a second, Naomi realized that the woman was not going to shake her hand. She wasn’t sure if she was being snubbed or if people didn’t shake hands here. She hoped it was the latter because otherwise she was somehow on bad terms with the housekeeper, and she had no idea why.
“I hope I’m not taking you away from anything important,” she said.
The woman sniffed. “Of course not, nothing I do is too important for your ladyship.”
“Um, okay…Well, it looks like you do a marvelous job. I was hoping, maybe you could spare someone to show me around,” Naomi offered, suddenly not wanting to spend the day with this woman.
“No, no, I will show you the castle,” the housekeeper said. She turned her back and began walking away. Naomi glanced at Yula and saw her shooting daggers into the housekeeper’s back. Naomi quick stepped to catch up with the retreating housekeeper and wondered how she had gotten into this mess.
Naomi sank into the plush chair inside her room with a relieved sigh. She had seen more of the castle than she probably ever wanted. If she never saw another storeroom, she'd feel blessed. Unfortunately there was no library in the whole damn place. So the rodent was still her only hope. Yula slumped into another chair. “Why does Mrs. Boon hate me?” Naomi finally asked.
“I believe that’s my fault. Mrs. Boon and I have long been at odds. She can’t accept the fact that Tavik holds me in the same regard as her. I am like his housekeeper when he is away, and since he is away more than here, I interact with him more. Things I do for him on the road are brought back to the castle, and Boon is told to change how she does things and do them like I do. She hates that."
“So you’re rival housekeepers.”
“I would go so far as to say warring.” Naomi smiled at the image of warring housekeepers: Yula and Mrs. Boon facing off with sharpened scrub brushes, steel plated aprons, and bucket helmets. If anything, it would be a very clean fight. Naomi mentally groaned at her own pun.
Feeling a little bad for the lie, she said, “I could use a snack. Would you get me some wine and cheese?” Yula nodded and levered herself up. Once she’d left the room, Naomi got down on the floor by the bed.
“Hello, Mr. Mouse. Your cheese and wine are on their way. You may want to come out, come out wherever you are.” Naomi felt like an idiot, but she was an idiot stuck on another planet, and she would take whatever help she could get it.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped and whirled around. She really needed to start locking her door. Tavik stood behind her. He had on leather pants, a chain mail shirt, and long boots. She thought he looked like a runaway from an S&M movie. “Uh, hi.”
He leaned his hip against a table and crossed his arms. She hoped he hadn’t heard her calling the mouse. She really didn't want to try explaining that, and she hoped the mouse would be smart enough to keep his trap shut if he appeared now.
“I thought we would lunch together.”
She nervously smiled and nodded her head. “That sounds nice. Later this week?”
Yula entered with the wine and cheese. Tavik took the tray from her.
“Naomi and I will have lunch here. Go get us something more substantial from the kitchen.”
Yula nodded and left without a word. Naomi took a seat at the table as he poured some wine. She watched the bed for any signs of the mouse. When he set the glass in front of her, she realized he was not going to be drinking any. She took a small sip of the wine, not having planned on drinking any of it herself.
“How do you eat without removing the helm?”
“I don’t.” Naomi frowned not knowing how they were going to have lunch then. Was he just going to watch her eat?
Yula returned with more food. Yula did set a plate and glass for Tavik. She excused herself, and it was just the two of them again. Tavik went to the door and locked it. When he turned back, he had a long piece of cloth dangling from his hand. She suddenly knew how they were going to have lunch together.
“Why even bother eating with me if it’s going to be such a hassle?”
“Maybe I like the company.”
“I think you just like tying women up.”
He lowered the blindfold over her eyes. She stayed still and let him tie it snugly. He then drew her arms behind the chair and tied her wrists. She'd had bad lunch dates, but none of them compared to this.
She heard him move and take a seat. She assumed he removed his mask. She listened to his silverware scrape and his chewing sounds. She hoped the mouse didn't 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?”
She frowned at the question. The question was perfectly fine, but being asked to participate in conversation while restrained and blindfolded somehow seemed rude. “Yes, Mrs. Boon showed me around this morning. Your castle is lovely and has an incredible amount of storage space.”
He chuckled. “Oh? That is important to some I suppose. I spoke to Geoff, the stable master. He expects you tomorrow morning to begin your lessons.”
“Thanks.” She listened to 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, she snapped her head so far to the side that her neck popped. “Jumpy,” Tavik said.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s just a piece of cheese. I thought you were hungry.”
“Yeah, but--" She wasn't able to finish her protest with a piece of cheese suddenly in her mouth. Congratulations Naomi, you've just been force fed, she told herself as she sullenly chewed.
“A feast is being prepared in honor of my return. You will attend.”
She nodded, knowing a command when she heard one. She felt something cool and round touch her lips.
“It’s a grape,” he said.
Deciding to humor the man, she opened her mouth and took the grape. “Yula will help you dress, and you will wear what is put out for you, understand?”
She dutifully nodded. “A piece of beef,” he said, holding a fork with meat to her mouth. She 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.”
She sat back without a counter. He placed another grape against her lips. She 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?"
She 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’ve 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. She 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.”
“Why?”
“My god forbids me from carnally knowing a woman.”
“You’re a monk?”
Tavik laughed quietly. “I’ve never considered it, but I guess I am.” She 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? Don't need to worry about anything now. Unless...Do you guys practice polygamy?”
He chuckled and fed her 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.” She didn't like the sound of that. 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.”
She didn’t know what he meant by that as her mind tried to scramble for an idea. She jerked back when unexpectedly a cup was placed to her lips. She felt the wine spill down her front. Tavik cursed softly.
She dropped her head. “Sorry,” she said.
“No, it's my fault. You really don’t trust me at all.” She wondered how he could expect her to trust him. She felt a cloth press her chin. The wine hit spilled onto her chest. She hoped it didn't stain the gown. It was a pale yellow, and she knew it wouldn’t 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. The gown had a generous scoop. She hadn’t thought anything of it when she’d put it on that 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. 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.
He was still brushing the napkin slowly over her chest. She 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. She took a deep breath in relief. Tavik made 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 strained. She simply nodded and held still this time for the cup to meet her lips. He gently tilted the cup for her, and she sipped slowly. She nudged the cup with her mouth to indicate when she was done.
“I will not discard you."
“Sorry?”
“I will not discard you,” he repeated. “You are right. You’re an even better disguise than my mask to hide what I am.”
“Glad I can be of service,” she weakly joked. Oh God, she was his beard.
He 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.”
She felt uncomfortable with the praise. She wondered what he 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.”
Her mouth formed a silent 'O'. Wait, their marriage was a sham. What did he care if she were strong and resilient? They were only together because—Her train of thought was lost when Tavik’s lips covered hers. His kisses began as chaste presses of the lips, and with each press, his mouth opened a fraction more. Naomi’s brain was in a tailspin. He was kissing her, and she liked it. Being kissed well was always nice. But they weren’t supposed to be kissing! What about his whole monk thing? What about the deal? She was tied up and blindfolded. She shouldn’t be okay with this just on principle. Bondage wasn’t her kink, damnit!
His tongue inched out and traced the seam of her lips. She liked it. Screw it, she’d had a series of really crappy days, and this was the first day that had been going nicely. Kissing would be added to the list of nice things done today. She opened her mouth and returned the kiss. His hand moved up to the back of her neck to cradle her head.
His mouth tasted like the sweet wine they’d been drinking. He wasn’t trying to choke her with the kiss or split her lip. No force involved, and he gave equal time. He pulled back and let her explore his mouth. If she weren’t tied up and blindfolded, this would go on her top five list of good make-outs. Soon, his lips crept from her mouth to her neck laying soft kisses down her throat. She sighed in pleasure. She realized as he moved down her throat to the top of her chest that his head was completely bald. She filed that little tidbit of information away. He put his other hand on her breast and gently stroked it. She moaned in appreciation. She couldn't help pulling against the restraints wanting to participate in the touching. His hand gently stroked her nipple, and it puckered.
“Tavik,” she pleaded. He switched his mouth back to hers. She continued to tug at her restraints. He slipped his hand down her dress to cup her breast. She arched her back and wiggled the restraints. They were beginning to come loose. His other hand left the back of her neck to trail down to pull up the long skirt of her dress. She was working the cloth loose on her wrists. She would have them free soon she knew.
He left her lips again and returned to her breast. His hand pulled down her dress, and his mouth latched onto her nipple. She cried out in pleasure and victory. She'd worked her hands free. As he suckled, she raised her hands to the sides of his head to press him closer. When she touched him, he jerked away and grabbed her hands. She let out a protesting sound and tried to pull her wrists free.
“Naomi, you shouldn't have done that,” he said. His voice was a little breathless.
“Done what?” She tried to tug her hands free or at least tug him back to her. She wanted to go back to the kissing and fondling. He switched his grip on her wrists to one hand. She heard what sounded like the helm being put back on. He released her and stepped away.
“Can I take the blindfold off?”
“Yes.”
She pulled it off and tossed it onto the table. “I didn’t try to take a peek,” she said a touch grumpily.
“You would have.” He’d moved back to wall and leaned against it with his arms crossed. She rolled her eyes and looked at the table. She picked up a grape and popped it into her mouth. She was still hungry, but food wasn't going to satisfy her.
“Naomi, put your dress back to rights.”
She looked down at herself and found her legs bare with the skirt all bunched up in her lap and one of her breasts spilling out of her top. She sent him a dark look. “I’m not the one who got the dress this way.”
“Put your dress back to rights.” His voice sounded strained. She jerked the top up, and the cloth grazed her nipple harshly. The pain only made her sudden bad temper worse. She threw the dress back over her legs, and crossed her arms too.
“I have matters to attend to. Be ready tonight,” he said.
She sat there staring at the door after he left. The impact of what had just happened began to creep up on her. She had made out with him. She had almost gotten to third base and may have rounded home if he hadn’t gotten skittish. What was she thinking?
“Well, that wasn’t much of a rut. You two barely got anywhere,” said a high squeaky voice from behind her.
She swiveled around on her chair and found the mouse standing in the middle of the floor.
“Is there any cheese and wine left?”
She turned back to the table. Three pieces of cheese remained. She picked up the wine canister and found it half full. She poured some of the wine into a saucer and set it down along with the cheese on a plate. The mouse scurried forward and began to gorge himself.
“What’s your name anyway?” she asked.
The mouse looked up from the saucer. His whiskers dripped with wine. “Mr. Squibbles.”
“Squibbles?”
“Mister Squibbles.”
She smirked but didn’t comment on the insistence of the honorific. “So tell me about unicorns, Mr. Squibbles.”
“Unicorns are very rare. They have been nearly hunted to extinction by humans.”
“For their horns,” she said.
“Yes, a lot of magic exists in their horns: the power to purify water, not just a bucket but a whole river with one touch; heal mortal wounds; ward off harmful magic; counteract curses and poisons; call lighting.”
“Where can I find unicorns?”
Mr. Squibbles had finished the cheese and sucked up almost all but a few drops of wine from the saucer. “Sorry, you’ve gotten all you're going to get at this time.”
“What? Wait a minute,” she protested, but the mouse turned and began to waddle back toward the bed.
“Get more wine and cheese,” he said and disappeared underneath the bed.
Continue to Chapter 7.
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