Page 6 of An Intimate Excerpt from the Diary of Our Lady

I padded across to the table, removing the cloche to find a steaming bowl of chowder, a hunk of thick, crusty bread, and a dainty cupcake.

I frowned, immediately suspicious. I was a prisoner, and he fed me my favorite foods, complete with dessert? It hadto be a trap.

The flagon proved to be wine, which smelled like a vintage I adored. It was all too perfect. While the room didn't adhere to my personal preference, it appeared designed to comfort me. One wall was covered by floor to ceiling bookshelves, with books looking to be arranged by age. Farthest left, I could see some of my favorites from Earth, near the middle, more modern books from Earth that I didn't recognize, and to the far right were a selection of books written by my own people. In front of the shelves sat a large, dark wood desk. It was neatly adorned with a bunch of moonflowers, a selection of papers, writing implements, and a typewriter. Flipping through a notebook I found, I could see that all the pages were blank, though some had patterns swirling at the edges. Opening the drawers revealed an array of journals, sketchbooks, and sealing waxes. Perhaps I'd be given homework as part of my rehabilitation. Did Orcus not know that I adored study?

He could mean to use it against me,orhe could always use it as a reward. Yes, that must be it. This room was designed to tempt me, an incentive he'd dangle over my head for good behavior. It was smart, really. Though I shouldn't be surprised, he'd been made to be cunning.

The click of a door opening startled me, making me gasp and spin around. I was more nervous than I'd like to admit. Orcus sauntered in, leaning on the bedframe nonchalantly and leveling his dark eyes at me.

"Is everything to your liking?" he asked.

As if it mattered. Then again, if he meant to use it as leverage, I suppose it did.

"It's quite cozy." I allowed.

"You haven't eaten. Come, sit, you should eat—keep your strength up—you'll need it."

"I don'tneedto eat. Surely you know that."

"Ah, your body doesn't need to eat, but here? I assure you, you'll need to. I designed it that way, after all."

Hm. Well, what was it, but another hook ensnared into me? I'd trusted him to enact my discipline, my exile. I suppose I couldn't complain if he did so by plying me with the things I loved most, and then ripped them from me. Again, cunning.

With a grace that defied his size, he crossed the room and settled into one of the large chairs.

"Come." He waved me over, but when I was close, he patted his large lap.

"You can't be serious." I shook my head. What in the world washe playing at?

"Serious as death. Now, do as you're instructed. I'd hate to punish you before we've even truly begun."

Chapter six

IN WHICH A MEAL IS CONSUMED IN A FASHION MOST UNFAMILIAR

Rollingmyeyes,Idid as he bade me. The chairs were larger than I'd realized and even still; he filled it completely. Confronted with our size difference, for the first time, perhaps ever, I wasintimidatedby Orcus. I'd been afraid of him, certainly, but I'd never fathomed that he posed me any true danger. As much as I wanted to atone for my wrongs, I wasn'texactlylooking forward to it. What use would be punishment if it were pleasurable?

With a hop, I settled into his lap, trying to appear obedient. Beneath me, his lap was strong and broad; he felt stable and sure, in a way that I don’t know if I had ever felt before.I was a goddess. I was not born into a loving family the way most children are. I burst into existence from my mother's mind, based on an idea fully formed in that second. Beyond that, she’d shown mild interest in me, but it was almost academic. My mother had created me to see if it would work, not out of want of companionship—certainly not someone to care for. So Orcus’s stability was the first time I'd ever experienced such a thing.

Instead, sitting on Orcus's lap was the first time I’ve ever truly felt that I could place my weight upon someone else and they would hold it. It was nothing short of a revelation. The feeling of relief was so intense that I shook my head to remind myself where I was. Because I was not there to feel relieved, I was there to pay the cost of what I had done, for doing to my people what my mother had done to me, and to try to learn to do better.

I didn’t have long to wait to discover what Orcus meant for me. Reaching across my body, he picked up a morsel of food and placed it to my lips.

"I am capable of feeding myself, you know," I said.

Despite my protests, he didn’t move the spoon away from my mouth. "That remains to be seen."

I opened my mouth to receive the food, though what I really wanted was to say something in rebuttal. It was vibrant and citrusy, as if this flavor had been specially crafted for me. To soothe me, or, I considered, to lull me into complacency and obedience. With that in mind, I straightened my shoulders as I chewed. He was so close to me, I could feel his breath skating over my neck. As soon as I was done chewing, another bit of food was presented to me. He continued feeding me for several minutes, until I finally waved my hand in front of my face, pleading for him to stop.

"All done?"

"Yes, I don't think my stomach is ready for large portions," I gasped out. "This—is not like what I expected."

"I imagine not." He set the remaining food down and picked up a napkin. To my shock, he raised it to my lips and gently patted them.

"That is as it should be. I've found that what we expect, or assume we deserve, is rarely what we actually deserve."

"And what do I deserve, then?" I asked. I needed his answer, but I was terrified to know. After all, I couldn't forget that this was my punishment.