Page 14 of A Royal’s Soul (Soul Match #3)

Persephone Flores

Selene was correct. The next morning my low mood had improved considerably, but I still felt clingy. I wanted to be around her. I worried that breakfast would be awkward with Sasha and Adamantia, given the previous evening—or rather, I worried I’d feel embarrassed when next seeing the two women—but I needn’t have worried. When we walked into the dining room, Sasha greeted me with a hug and kiss to my cheek, leading me to the table and the seat beside her.

“How was your evening?” Adamantia asked Selene as she sat down, with a slightly raised eyebrow, as if she knew already and was asking for her own amusement. I felt myself become flustered, before remembering that Adamantia couldn’t have known what Selene and I had done together.

“I heard there was an incident with Katrina, the new servant girl.”

“Yes,” Selene replied and reached across the table, pouring me a glass of orange juice.

No coffee at the table. I was disappointed. I felt like I needed the pick-me-up.

“Is that all you give? Only an acknowledgement that something indeed happened, but no details?” Adamantia asked, sounding almost affronted.

“I would be surprised if you weren’t already fully aware of what took place,” Selene replied.

“Leave her alone,” Sasha said. “Selene has never been one to talk about such things.”

“Our niece was hardly grown last she spent any considerable time at Ardens Estate, and was far less interesting—other than her womanising had already begun,” Adamantia joked.

Selene’s response was a deathly silence.

“Your promiscuity was such a short-lived adventure. Not yet at your twenty-fourth year, and already settled,” Adamantia added, and gave me an apologetic look.

“Do we have any report on the body from the maze?” Selene asked. I felt Sasha still beside me.

“Yes,” Adamantia sipped what I assumed was blood. It was too early in the morning to be wine.

“And?” Selene pushed. I could hear the frustration in her voice.

“A male, approximately early twenties. Shifter from his eyes, though we do not know what content,” Adamantia said.

There was an odd silence. Not awkward—the air seemed to be charged—while Adamantia and Selene locked eyes. Their stares were rather intense, and I wondered if they could communicate like Heidi, until Selene broke the silence.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

Sasha grabbed my hand. “Would you like to go for a walk, Percy? The morning air is crisp and the grounds shimmer in the frost,” Sasha said.

“Uh, no,” I said, and pulled my hand from hers, not liking at all how quickly she tried to remove me from the room.

“My pet remains with me,” Selene said, never removing her eyes from Adamantia. “Out with it,” she demanded, and Adamantia laughed.

“Marchioness or not, I’m still your aunt and elder. You will show me respect,” she reprimanded.

Selene’s hands fisted and she frowned.

“I am Marchioness, and to be your Queen. You will not keep any details of the goings-on of Ardens from me. It is I who is experiencing disrespect here, Aunt,” she hissed in response.

“I feel it would be best if Percy was not here for this,” Sasha said.

“I agree with my love,” Adamantia said. “Send the girl away, and then we’ll speak.”

The growl that Selene unleashed was fierce and loud.

“Percy is mine ,” she warned. “You will not tell me what to do with what is mine. Anything you have to say can be said while in her presence.”

“Very well,” Adamantia took another sip. “A photograph of Percy was found on the body,” she said.

“A photo of me?” I asked.

Sasha took my hand again and squeezed.

“Why would they have a photo of me?” I questioned.

“Exactly the question,” Adamantia said.

It hit me so fast I felt nauseous.

“Percy?” Selene asked, already out of her chair and at my side.

I turned to her and gripped the fabric of her jumper sleeve.

“Do you think—it’s not—he wouldn’t be so stupid. Neither of them. I need to see them, to know,” I was rambling. I felt like I would throw up.

“What’s the matter?” Sasha asked.

I watched Selene’s face screw up in disgust.

“Percy has a shifter friend who is obsessed with her. She is worried for him,” she answered, and pulled her arm away from me. “I will view the body and check if it’s the boy,” she stated.

“No!” I said quickly, reaching out for her, but she stepped back. “Please, I need to see for myself,” I told her.

I wasn’t sure if Selene would tell me even if it was Dylan—she hated him so much. Even the mention of him had her pulling away from me, and the rejection stung.

“A lack of trust?” Selene asked, and looked away from me.

“No, I just have to know for sure, for myself,” I said.

Selene walked away from me and the table.

“What are you waiting for? Come,” she said as she headed for the door.

I stumbled from my chair to follow her.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I caught up to her.

“To the morgue,” she stated.

“Ardens has a morgue?” I asked, though I wasn’t surprised. The mansion gave a haunted feeling—a morgue was keeping with the atmosphere.

Selene didn’t respond.

As we walked, all I could do was picture Dylan—his wild blond hair, his boyish looks and carefree smile. I couldn’t imagine him gone.

He was obnoxious and stupid, but he was also kind and caring and did what he thought was right.

And he didn’t deserve to die. Even if he wasn’t a very a good friend this past summer, he was still my friend.

I tried to take Selene’s hand for comfort—my legs felt like pasta, not the fresh kind but the kind of sticky half-wet, half-dry kind that’s been left out too long. But she withdrew her hand out of my reach.

“Selene, please?” I cried as we reached a door that led outside.

She took a coat from a hook and turned to me, holding it open.

“Put the jacket on,” she commanded, and I allowed her to help me into the coat, zipping it up.

She took my hand.

“I don’t think I am capable of offering you comfort, not over him,” she told me quietly as we stepped outside. “The morgue is next to the maze,” she told me. “It’s believed that a place for the dead has always stood in the same spot since the creation of the maze. It is a much more modern building now, but in need of some renovation,” she explained as we walked through the neatly trimmed lawns and past decorative pieces.

The morgue was a brown stone building with green ivy coating half the building. The windows were small black wooden panes, and the door was the same shade of faded black. A guard stood outside.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” he said as we approached.

“Good morning,” I replied weakly. My legs felt heavy. Somewhere in the small building there might lie my friend.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to go in, but I had to. I had to see.

Selene nodded to the guard, who held the door open for us.

Inside, there were three rooms: an office directly to our left that had a window for greetings, and two more rooms directly in front of us.

A wiry, thin man walked out from one room, with his head down, writing something in a note book.

He looked up, only just noticing us, and got a bit of fright, dropping his notebook and pen to the floor.

“Sorry,” he said, and bent down for his notebook and pen. “How can I help you?”

He seemed confused for a moment, and then lowered a pair of large circular glassed that were resting atop his head.

“Oh dear—yes, my Lady. Miss Marchioness—I mean, my Royal Highness,” he stuttered.

“The body from the maze. I am here to view it,” Selene answered, sharply. She didn’t have much patience. I could tell she wanted to get this over with.

“Yes, yes,” he turned swiftly around on his heel and held the door open he had just come through. “Right this way. The corpse is on the table,” he explained.

Selene turned to me then.

“Are you sure you want to see for yourself? Those that the maze spits out are rarely as they once were in life,” she warned, and I was warmed that she cared for me so in that moment.

I hesitated. The prospect that Dylan lay on the table within the room was suddenly almost overwhelming. Our last interaction hadn’t been pleasant. I hadn’t been able to speak to him since the night of the summer ball. We had so much left to discuss and work out.

What would I say to him if he was lying cold and gone behind the door? I didn’t know.

Nothing would be right—only, goodbye, and a wish for a safe journey.

I was sure Selene would not deny me the chance to give him a coin for Charon.

“I have to see for myself,” I told her, steeling myself for what was to come.

She nodded and we followed the man into the room.

The room was as cold as outside, all white tiles and a silver metal table in the centre of the small room. A body-shaped lump lay under a white cloth.

“Are you ready?” the man asked.

Selene turned to me and I nodded.

“Is the face intact?” she asked.

“It is,” the man answered.

“Only reveal the face,” she instructed.

“Yes, of course. Identifying the body then? Think you might know who it was?” he asked.

Selene did not answer, and the man swallowed awkwardly and took hold of the white cloth.

He revealed the face and my knees buckled. Selene’s arm wrapped around my waist, holding me up.

Short brown hair, and the thin hollow face of a stranger.

“It’s not him,” I cried in relief.

“Let’s leave,” Selene said, guiding me from the cold, sterile room.

“Is that all?” the man asked.

“When will you have the results of the testing? I want to know his clan, and if his DNA or that of his relatives are in any system,” Selene said when we were back in the entrance space.

“The results should be back within three days,” he answered.

“Bring the results directly to me. No in-between. Do you understand?” she demanded.

“Yes, my Royal Highness,” he replied and bowed his head.

We left the morgue, but Selene did not lead us back to the mansion immediately. Instead, she led us to the Man at Work statue and the stone bench for viewing.

“Why would he have a photo of me?” I asked.

“I do not know, pet,” she replied. “It concerns me, but it might not be anything nefarious,” she said.

“Nefarious?” I questioned.

“You are my pet. There is a certain amount of attention that comes from being associated with me—an odd sort of popularity,” she explained. “In the past there have been those that have developed a sort of obsession, following me around, desperate to interact with me in some capacity. It is rare, thankfully, but not something I am unfamiliar with. You, my pet, since the summer, seem to have developed a following of your own.”

I looked at her, saw the corner of her lips twitch, and I wasn’t sure if she was suppressing a grin or grimace.

“A following?” I asked.

“Yes. Your arrival at the summer ball did not go unnoticed. You aren’t a noble. It seemed some put two and two together and miraculously got four. A non-noble wearing a custom dress made by the same designer as was my own, arriving in a vehicle chauffeured by my guard, and an off-the-record retelling of how close I kept my new pet—and well, there were a few columns following the ball that featured you and the suggestion that there just might be something more than Mistress and pet going on,” Selene explained.

“What?” I asked, shocked. “Papers were writing about me and you never said anything? I never even heard anything, no one said a thing!”

I levelled an accusatory glare. I didn’t like the idea of people I didn’t know speaking about me—gossiping, really.

“I didn’t want you to be aware,” Selene admitted. “I forbade anyone with regular contact with you from speaking of it. Being in the public sphere—in the tabloids and magazines, pet —it is not always complimentary. It can be damaging to ones self-esteem to be exposed to so much opinion. Such scrutiny can be overwhelming.”

“So you just thought you’d keep it a secret from me. What did you do? Threaten my friends not to say anything?” I asked, feeling myself becoming angry.

It was an overstep, to try and control my relationships.

She didn’t reply, which was answer enough.

“You can’t interfere in my relationships like that. No wonder Ana has been so hostile anytime you are mentioned! It’s not right. You can’t control my life like that. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to protect me,” I challenged.

Selene turned to face me, her eyebrows drawn in a frown.

“I can control any and every aspect of your life that I choose. I can decide every little detail of your day—from when you wake up, what you wear, eat, who you speak to, even when you use the bathroom. The freedom you enjoy is a gift bestowed by me.” She growled in frustration.

“It is my duty to keep you safe—physically and emotionally. You didn’t need to know, nor did you need to hear your friends and peers discussing what some nobody had to say about your shoes or hair.”

“Ugh!” I huffed loudly with my own frustration. “You don’t even understand that keeping this from me was wrong, do you?” I asked, raising my voice.

Selene reached out and gripped the hair at the nape of my neck in a tight fist. I whined quietly as she dragged me forward on the bench towards her.

“This behaviour, pet, is in need of correction,” she hissed against my ear. “You are being disrespectful, challenging my authority, publicly. We spoke of this.”

I swallowed hard, all my growing anger replaced with something else—not quite fear, but something close to it. A foreboding of sorts.

“I believe a public correction is in order,” she continued.

“W-what, what do you mean?” I stuttered out, nothing more than a whisper.

She did not answer me in words. Instead, I found myself being dragged across her knees, having to reach out with my hands to catch myself against the damp morning grass.

Before I could even begin to protest, I felt a dull thud of a spank against my clothed buttocks. The sound was loud, but it was not overly painful. I was stunned.

It was quickly followed by another on the same cheek, and another. The dull thudding seemed unbearably loud, and although we were alone, I knew we were not really alone—that other people would be watching, that others would hear the deafening sound of the spanking.

The hits themselves, while lacking the sting of skin on skin, were growing in heat—a painful building.

Shock kept me silent, but embarrassment drew forth tears.

After what felt like a lifetime, Selene dragged me back up by the back of my coat and sat me on my hot, aching butt on the cold stone bench. I rubbed the tears from my face quickly, not wanting her or anyone else to see that I had cried, not wanting to draw anymore attention to myself.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I eventually managed to speak, after the silence between us had began to ring in my ears.

“You know exactly why I needed to correct you, pet,” she replied.

“No,” I said, my bottom lip wobbling, and I was scared to look around to see if anyone was out and about and had seen the shameful way I had been disciplined.

I worried I’d hear the servants whispering about me and my spanking. I could almost hear it already, feel the knowing looks as I passed them.

“You raised your voice to me, you were disrespectful—neither of which is ever acceptable—but you chose to behave in such a way publically, you were corrected publically.

Be thankful for the cold, or I would have made you stand and remove your trousers and underwear before the spanking,” she replied.

And I felt myself grow inexplicably hot—from embarrassment and something else, something I didn’t want to even begin to explore.

Selene drew in a deep breath through her nose, her eyes flashing brightly momentarily, and I winced, fearful that she would put words to my bodily reaction.

I didn’t think I could withstand the embarrassment.

“I am owed an apology, pet,” she said, and I was relieved.

“I’m sorry,” I said. The apology much easier to give than confront what we both knew—that her threats of such public humiliation had turned me on.

“A more thorough apology,” she demanded.

“I am sorry for raising my voice and being disrespectful, ma’am.” I tried.

She raised one dissatisfied eyebrow.

“I promise to not do it again.”

I paused and looked away because the words felt like a lie. I would probably do something she deemed disrespectful again—it was basically a given. She’d probably make something up if I didn’t.

“I’ll try not to anyway,” I added.

“Good girl. You are forgiven,” she said, bringing her hand to my cheek and turning my face to her, brushing her thumb over my damp cheek.

“You think the guy, from the maze—” I didn’t want to say dead man , it felt wrong to talk about him without a name— “was obsessed with me or something?” I asked. “And why would he be? You said I had a following?”

When I stopped to think about that, not being distracted be Selene’s meddling, it was actually quite concerning. Why would any stranger be interested in me? I wasn’t interesting. Selene was the most interesting thing about me.

And what was there even to write about concerning me in the tabloids?

“Perhaps,” she answered. “Do not worry yourself, pet. I will always stand between you and any that may pose a threat to your safety,” she promised easily.

“I don’t like that people know who I am when I don’t know them,” I admitted. “No one knew me without first being introduced to me before spring. It feels wrong—scary,” I explained.

“They do not know you. They know of you. They know your name and face and little else, other than whatever fantasy they have conjured. Yet fantasy, to some is as real as anything else. It can make them behave in dangerous ways. Stupidly entering an enchanted maze for example. One thing is for sure: the fool was not of Ardens or any neighbouring House, as none who know what the maze truly is—except for those seeking death—would enter,” she explained.

“I hope he wasn’t here for me,” I said sadly.

I couldn’t stand the thought that someone had died trying to find me. It would be such a pointless death, and I wondered if it was another death caused by me.

Evie, Remy, the delivery driver, the academy guard, and now this shifter boy who carried my photo with him.

A sickening feeling swallowed me, along with the idea that perhaps one day the list of deaths that could be traced back to me would be too long for me to count.

“I hope not too,” Selene agreed.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you two,” Adamantia said.

“Tell me, have we identified the boy?” she asked.

“No,” Selene replied. “The coroner will bring the results of the blood testing directly to me,” she said.

“Worried that I would keep information from you?” Adamantia asked.

“Is that not what you attempted at breakfast?” Selene replied.

Adamantia, stared sternly at Selene, and I was reminded that my first impression of her had been that of a schoolteacher. She pursed her lips, her high cheekbones hollow.

“I was merely trying to save your girl from worry,” Adamantia said. “I sense a lack of trust between us. We are family.”

Selene laughed and stood from the bench.

“Vasilios and his traitor son were also family, and it didn’t stop them conspiring to take my throne, or killing Mother,” Selene hissed.

Adamantia looked away with a painful expression.

“We are different,” she said, looking back and locking eyes with Selene. “We have never been at each other’s throats. I have never desired your titles. What new paranoia makes you distrust me now?”

Selene clenched her teeth and exhaled loudly, her eyes darted to me as if subconsciously checking I was there.

Adamantia’s gaze followed, and her hard stare softened.

“I see,” she said nodding.

“You see what?” Selene asked, and Adamantia gave her a knowing looking.

“You have something worth protecting now, and it was almost taken from you once before. Your vigilance is understandable, but do not allow it to cloud you judgement. You have so few allies, niece,” Adamantia warned.

“Come, pet,” Selene said, reaching out and taking my wrist. “I must meet the councillors that spent the night before they leave.”

She began to drag me towards the mansion.

“They are already at breakfast. They very much enjoyed the morning show,” Adamantia said as we passed her.

If not for Selene’s hold of me, I would have fell over my feet, caught so off guard by the casual comment. I knew she was talking of my spanking.

Selene laughed, the strained edge leaving her features.

“I knew you would enjoy that,” Adamantia smiled.

My legs felt numb as Selene continued to lead me away.

“I don’t want to see the councillors,” I whispered as we neared the entrance to the mansion. I desperately wanted to avoid interacting with anyone that witnessed my spanking.

Selene laughed again.

“Keep your eyes down, and you won’t have to see anyone,” Selene suggested.

“That’s not helpful,” I grumbled, and Selene stopped us just before we reached the door.

“Behave, pet. No more outbursts. You may say farewell to Fotis of Cliffwind—otherwise, head down and follow my instructions. Can you behave for me, hmm? Can you be a good girl?” she asked, tilting my jaw up.

I nodded my affirmation, hypnotised by her liquid-sliver eyes. Would there ever be a time that her eyes wouldn’t capture me?

I was rewarded with a quick but heated kiss.

After, she took hold of the collar of my coat and drew me near, dipping her head to my neck and checked her marking.

She had spent the better part of half an hour that morning, marking me before we left the bed. The skin of my neck was still sensitive, and a shiver ran down my spine and tingled my ears as her nose brushed against me.

She moaned softly, satisfied with what she found, before placing a gentle kiss against my pulse and lifting her head.