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“Fragile,” DK stresses. “From our interactions… I’m not convinced she can behave like the other House Girls.”

The King takes his time before answering, ultimately saying, “I agree she is unique. Naive. Raised in an isolated and controlled environment that should have prepared her for the day she would marry a King. I do not know if her behavior is the result of her upbringing or the kidnapping–maybe both. In an ideal world we would have more time, but that isn’t the case. We have weeks, not months, before Samhain.” He looks between us. “Because of that, your job will be to train her for the duties required as both Baroness and my bride.”

“Train,” I repeat.

“On the outside this means her dress, her behavior, her attitude and acclimation to Forsyth society, but I know what’s on your mind, and rightly so. The Baroness should be yours to break-in, to fuck and screw, and to suck your dicks in the stacks at the library. I’m not taking that away from you, not exactly, but there are things that are off limits.”

“I’m guessing her virginity,” I say.

“You guess correct.” He reaches for his tea and takes a sip. “Also, no kissing.”

DK shoots me an agitated look, but neither of those are a concern of mine.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like for us to focus on?” DK asks, his gray eyes darkening. “You know, in respect to training.”

He waves off the question as if it’s an annoyance, not discussing the ways we can defile a woman. “I want her compliant, both at home and in public. I want her to behave like a Royal, even if she isn’t one, and for the females, that includes a certain acceptance of their role within our system. So, whatever it is that you need to do to make her that way–do it.”

My mind goes right back to her on her knees, lips circled around DK’s dick, and instantly I go hard, cock twitching under the table. It took the threat of telling the King about Armand to get her to comply. Threats will only go so far in a situation like this. Ares didn’t know a single command when I found him. If I can train a dog to fetch, sit, and stay, there’s no reason I can’t train a female to submit.

“I think we can handle this,” I tell him. “Or rather, handle her.”

DK is quiet next to me, his hands clasped under his chin. He doesn’t explicitly say he agrees, but he gives the King a nod.

“Good. With that settled, I have a meeting to attend.” He stands, stepping away from the table, and checks his watch. “She’s had breakfast in her room and should be ready for her first day of classes. Graves said she’ll meet you by the garage.”

It’s a clear dismissal and I grab the last piece of bacon from my plate and pop into my mouth as DK and I head back into the hall. I’m not great with non-verbal cues, but it’s obvious that he’s pissed.

“You’re angry,” I point out, less of a question than a statement.

“I’m sure as fuck angry.” The hand pushing through his hair tugs at the ends. “One of the perks of being a Baron is the free use of the Baroness.”

“Free use?”

“However and whenever, bro.” He gives me an incredulous look. “She can’t refuse.”

“He just said that we could–”

“Teach her to behave like a Royal? How? Neither of us have a fucking clue.” He storms down the hall, getting us farther away from the library. “But it also makes sense, because no real Royal would put up with a batshit crazy girl like Arianette. He picked two random outcasts to be his Barons. Not because we have something he wants, but because we don’t have the bloodlines, the money, or the power to push back on the fact he didn’t make us Barons,” he seethes. “He made us fucking babysitters.”

11

Arianette

I’m notsure how long I’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for the knock on my bedroom door. I’ve been up for hours, stomach twisting and turning with nerves.

Today is the first day of school.

Getting ready was a challenge. Every movement seemed to aggravate the pain in my chest and nipples. I spent an hour holding a cold washcloth over each breast, taking deep breaths as I acclimated to the piercings. I’d dug through the full closet and dresser for something to wear, finally settling on an outfit that seemed appropriate and comfortable.

I spent time on my hair and experimented with the makeup I found in the vanity drawer. The only time I’ve worn makeup was during my dance performances, where the other girls and I would take turns painting each other's faces before going on stage.

Today, I go for something different, mimicking Regina’s style. I applied a smoky shadow and dark eyeliner. I stopped short of the bold lipstick, opting for a shiny gloss instead.Standing in front of the mirror, I tugged down the sleeves of my black cardigan in an attempt to hide the fresh wounds and old scars on my wrists. The skirt exposes my scabby, bruised knees, but I found a pair of thick black socks in my dresser drawer that pull high enough to cover them.

I don’t think anyone can see the metal bars pierced through my nipples.

At least if they don’t look too hard.

I jolt at the heavy knock on the door, rushing over to open it. The man on the other side of the door isn’t one of my Barons or a Shadow. For a split second I wonder if he’s my King, but there’s no ring on his finger and he’s unmasked.