Page 11 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

Time seemed to slow for Olerra as Andrastus fought her every step of the journey. When she tried to give him a history lesson, he talked over her, and so she gagged him. He would look anywhere but at her. To show that he wasn’t paying attention.

She tried to explain what their day-to-day lives would be like.

“In the mornings, we will dine together with the nobles. Afterward, I will resume my work with the queen’s armies, while you’re free to go to the gymnasium, where most of the husbands and harems spend their free time.

You are welcome to pursue any activities you wish.

In the evenings, we will dine together and enjoy the city together.

We will retire together.” Here she paused, gauging his reaction.

“After our nightly routine, we will separate until the next morning. You will have your own room. Most of your time will be your own, but I do need you to make appearances to impress everyone.”

“Fuck off!” he’d shout whenever she tried to remove his gag.

He was loud and obnoxious when he wanted to be, and she feared that he would be unsuitable for company when they reached Amarra.

For days Olerra tried to give him the information he would need. He ate from her hands. He gave her scathing looks. Nothing was changing.

She hadn’t expected immediate results, of course. But she’d hoped for something .

The night before they reached their destination, Ydra said, “We’ve tried your way, Olerra.

It’s not working. Gentle coaxing isn’t something the Brutes understand.

You need to show him the alternative. How he will be treated if he doesn’t behave.

Treat him as most of the court treats their men.

You can be gentle as a reward. For now, it’s time to show strength.

It may be the only thing he responds to. ”

Andrastus overheard their exchange, as was Ydra’s intent.

Olerra pulled her friend aside, this time out of earshot. “What do you propose?”

“Make a mockery of him when we arrive at the palace. He doesn’t want to act like a prince? Don’t treat him like one. Make him a plaything as the other courtiers do of their common men. Not in private. Just in public.”

Olerra looked over her shoulder to where he was still strapped to the cart. “I didn’t want it to be like that between us.”

“I know, but it’s not forever. Just until he comes around. You cannot deny that our ancestors perfected these methods. They’re used for a reason.”

Olerra took a deep breath. He would hate her even more for this.

But as long as that hate turned into want, it would be worth it.

The next morning, they removed Sanos’s shirt. It felt nice in the overheated Amarran air, but then he had to guess why they were removing his shirt.

“What happened to your chest?” Olerra said, outraged.

Sanos looked down his torso, where patches of hair were missing from the birthday party traditions.

“My brothers,” he explained.

Olerra looked to Ydra.

“No one will notice from a distance,” her friend assured her.

Next they removed his shoes, then hoisted him up like a flag and tied his bound hands to the back of their seat so he would be forced to stand.

Only then did they ride through the city gates.

Trumpets sounded, heralding the return of the queen potential, and Sanos bore the scrutiny of the masses as they clopped through the city. He felt his skin burning from the direct contact with the sun. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, and he could taste the salt in the air from the nearby ocean.

Women pointed and commented on his physique.

Men stood by their sides, holding groceries or other wares for their wives or mothers.

Those whose genders he couldn’t discern were in the mix, too.

Some appeared male but wore dresses. Some appeared female yet drew beards on their faces with makeup.

There were also unusual pairings in the streets.

Men holding the hands of other men. Women with women.

It wasn’t done in his country. Same-sex pairings were illegal, yet here they were in the open. Here they seemed to flourish.

The men paired with women wore peculiar armbands around their left biceps. Some were made with thin wires or twine. Some had rocks or seashells beaded through. Must have been some Amarran fashion.

He thought it peculiar that the men wore more jewelry than the women, but Sanos had more pressing concerns.

Despite his best attempts on the road, he was now in Zinaeya, the Amarran capital.

Escape would be much harder now, but he was determined to find a way out of this.

He would never stop fighting. He would not leave his family to their fate.

He would not allow this woman to make a mockery of him.

He would not wed her. He would not bed her.

In fact, he would slit her fucking throat the second he had the chance.

They pulled up to what must be the palace. Scarlet banners hung from the windows, the icon of a pointed helmet with long hair trailing down the back painted on each one. A retinue was waiting for them when the cart finally came to a stop. There was cheering and much more gawking directed at them.

Olerra and Ydra didn’t give him a look as they jumped to the ground.

“I’m to report to my aunt,” Olerra said. “See that the prince is bathed and readied for tonight.”

Those words sent a burst of anger through his limbs, but he forced himself to remain still as the servants came forward to untie him from the cart.

The second he was free, he tried to bolt. One of the men caught him around the waist and another slung a fist into his stomach. Even as the breath whooshed out of him, he still tried to fight. While they outnumbered him, it was clear that the men were not trained fighters.

Sanos struggled until his breath finally returned to him, then he struck out with his bare foot, sweeping the legs out from under one of the men.

“Ydra,” Olerra said lazily. “Put a stop to that, will you? He’s going to hurt the eunuchs.”

The what?

Sanos barely had a chance to look in Olerra’s direction before Ydra launched herself at him.

He prepared to snap her neck, but he’d barely made contact with her skin before Ydra threw him to the ground as though he weighed nothing.

She pinned him effortlessly, even though her body weight shouldn’t have been able to manage it.

Then she pulled back his arms and secured him with rope before lifting him off the ground and onto his knees without so much as a grunt.

A horrible sinking sensation took root in his body as Ydra turned him to face Olerra. He hated kneeling before her.

The princess tsk ed at him, as though he were no more bothersome than a fly.

“I understand that in Brutus, you men are taught to behave like animals, but we do not tolerate that kind of behavior in Amarra. Since you are still learning our ways, I will only deny you your dinner’s rations as punishment.

But should you fight like this again, especially publicly, you will be denied much greater necessities than food. Get him out of my sight until tonight.”

Sanos spat at her feet and muttered, “I will see you dead,” before he was gagged again.

Everyone laughed, but not because he was insulting the princess.

They laughed at him .

As though he were some great entertainment brought all this way for their enjoyment.

The princess leaned down to be at his eye level. She pressed her lips to his ear. “Are we making promises to each other? Unlike yours, I will actually keep mine. Soon, I will have you begging to be inside me. You will worship my curves, and you will love me.”

That was the last thing she said to him before they dragged him away.

Everything was a blur after that. He couldn’t take in any of his surroundings through the fury and hatred that clouded his vision.

He nearly fell down the stairs amid his distraction.

A heated sheen of air brushed against his skin.

He was in some sort of bathing chamber down low, low in the palace.

They cut his clothes away with shears. The men. The eunuchs. He knew exactly what that word meant the moment they undressed to properly bathe him.

They were missing their manhood. Had the Amarrans done that to them?

He could do no more than stare as Olerra’s words from before took real meaning in his mind. He would be denied much greater necessities than food. Gods, was his manhood what she’d meant?

They cleaned every inch of him, including his ass and foreskin, and Sanos was horrified to have another man’s hands in so many places. The eunuchs said not a word to him, nor did they look him in the eye, as if they knew what they would find there and would rather not have to blatantly ignore it.

Once they dried him with fresh, warm towels, he thought that would be the worst of it, but a man wearing nothing but a scarlet skirt came into the room to examine him.

“What in the gods’ names happened to your chest?”

Sanos looked down and saw the blank patches of chest hair. Since he was still gagged, it was clear that the man didn’t expect an actual answer.

“Bring me the shears and the wax.”

Sanos startled at that word. She’d threatened to take his beard. But surely they couldn’t mean to—

They tied him to a slab of rock, arms outstretched, as some too-hot, thick substance was rubbed onto his chest. The man laid a cloth atop it.

“Brace yourself, Andrastus. This will hurt.” Then the new man caught the cloth between his fingers and pulled.

Agony ripped through him.

The man in the skirt grabbed another section and pulled. Sanos was suddenly grateful for the gag; otherwise he’d likely bite off his own tongue.

Gods, but it hurt. Way worse than his birthday hair-ripping. This was fire. He’d swear it hurt worse than the time a sword tore through him during his first training practice with sharpened blades.

Uncontrollable tears ran down his cheeks, and it was only when they removed the gag that he realized what was next.