The Consort

The pounding in my head is the first thing I notice as I wake. Groaning, I bring my hands up to my skull as I push my face further into the pillow. The cushion is soft under me and smells faintly of flowers. I take a deep inhale of the scent, confused as my sheets typically smell old and musty.

Eyes closed, I flail out my arm in an attempt to grab the small clock on top of the dresser. Much to my surprise my hand instead lands on more mattress. My bed is a twin, and by no means wide enough for me to be able to stick my arm out like this without meeting the edge.

I jerk up into a sitting position as the realization sets in that I'm not in my own bed. I look around the small bedroom in a panic, not recognizing the space. Thankfully I am alone, but that doesn't do anything to soothe my anxieties. Did a Beast take me to his bed last night? Hesitantly, I look down at my body, tears filling my eyes as I realize that I'm not in the clothing I wore last night.

I rip back the blankets to get a better look, my shaky hands tugging at the giant gray sweatpants and black shirt covering my body. The clothing is huge on me, no doubt belonging to a man. Terror rushes through me and tears fill my eyes at the possibilities of what happened last night.

I remember playing a couple of games of chess with King Heloix, shouting things at him that I am sure to be punished for, but then everything else is a blank. It's as if my mind has been completely wiped.

Panic begins to set in as I try to recall my memories, only to fall short. The room I'm in looks eerily similar to those of the guards, just large enough to hold a queen bed and dresser. It's fairly sparse, with no belongings on the dresser or in the open closet.

Tentatively, I bring my hand down my pants and prod at myself, trying to find any tenderness or signs of rape. There's nothing of the sort, everything feeling normal, but I remain doubtful.

A small bathroom door is directly across from the bed, and I cautiously slip out of the sheets in case somebody is inside. I tiptoe through the room as I head to the exit, ready to make my escape. The floor is cold under my bare feet, and I quickly spot my shoes sitting by the door. I tiptoe over to them, careful to keep quiet as I slip them on my feet and rush out into the hallway.

Immediately, and to my relief, I notice that I'm not in the Beasts' corridor. Unfortunately, though, I'm not sure what part of the castle I'm in.

The hallway is empty and the guards haven't made it to their posts yet, signaling that it's still early and I'm not late for work. Despite being lost I begin heading down the corridor, hoping that I'll end up in an area that I recognize.

I can either head directly to the King's chambers and work to finish my cleaning early, giving me time to return to the servant's chambers and change while the humans are still out. Alternatively I can rush down there now, face their mockery as they take in the men's clothing covering my body, and be late for work.

It's a lose-lose situation, but the decision becomes easy as I round the corner and spot the King's door. I'm on the top floor? I spin back around to look down the corridor I just came from, realizing that it must be the King's empty wing. Whoever took me there last night must not have wanted anybody to see us.

I hurry over to King Heloix's door, sending a quick prayer that he is already gone, and head inside his room. The large lump underneath the covers of his bed is the first thing I notice as I enter, my panic rising as I realize that he's still asleep.

Figuring that I'll just come back later, I go to turn and leave, wincing as the door slams shut behind me. There's no way that I'll be able to heave open the door without waking him, so instead I decide just to wait patiently and clean his office until he wakes.

Glancing around the room, I search for any sort of clue as to what happened last night. The space seems perfectly normal though, and in fact looks even cleaner than when I arrived yesterday. Even the chessboard that I know we used has been tucked back into its shelf.

The King groans and rolls over before peeking open his eyes to look at me.

"Can you bring me some water?" He asks, voice rough.

I nod, heading to the kitchen and filling up a glass. The sink is empty, save for the glasses we drank from last night and a large metal bowl on the drying rack. I glance at it in confusion, not remembering having washed it.

I shake my head in an attempt to move on from the thought, the motion making my skull pound, before carrying the water over to the King. I slow as I approach, taking in his current state.

He seems pretty unhappy, a large frown on his face and arm thrown haphazardly over his forehead. Large bags are apparent under his eyes and his skin is quite pale. Despite this, a slight smirk is evident on his face as he watches me approach.

"Your dress is in the dryer." He murmurs, looking at my ill-fitting clothes.

My cheeks heat up under his gaze, having forgotten that I was not wearing my own items. I'm confused by his statement though. My dress is in the dryer?

The King must sense my confusion as the smirk on his face transforms into a frown.

"Do you remember last night?"

I shake my head. "No, sir."

"Hm." He mumbles, eyebrows furrowing. "Well, you spilled wine on your dress so I gave you something of mine to change into. I washed it for you and threw it in the dryer before I fell asleep."

I want to ask him about last night and what happened after playing chess. I'd also like to apologize for the things that I do remember, but his mood now seems quite sour and I don't want to ruin it further.

"Thank you, sir." I answer instead, hovering by his bed.

"You can leave after you get changed. I don't need you cleaning today."

He seems pretty upset, and I hold back a grimace as I realize that I must have really offended him last night. I hesitantly step towards him, pausing once I am a foot or so from his bed.

"Excuse me, Sir."

"Heloix."

I tilt my head, confused. "What?"

The King groans, scooching back against his headboard as he sits up slightly. He runs his hand through his hair, pushing the curls out of his face and giving his temples a quick rub.

"Just call me Heloix when we are alone."

My eyes widen in response to his words, surprised that he would give me permission to call him by his first name.

"Okay, Heloix," I murmur, testing out the word. "I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn't have spoken to you the way that I did while we were playing chess. I'm also sorry for anything else I did that was out of turn."

The King stares at me blankly, his lack of response making my palms sweaty. He eventually just rolls his eyes as he lays back down and turns away from me. I mentally curse at myself. I know I shouldn't have said anything.

I stare at his back a second longer before turning around to get my dress and leave. It's in the dryer like he said, and I quickly snatch it out, tiptoeing to the bathroom to get changed.

Quietly shutting the bathroom door behind me, I set my dress on the sink and take a look at myself in the mirror. It's not often that I get to see myself, and I'm shocked at how unkept I appear. My hair is a tangled, greasy mess- long strands sticking out at odd angles and knots all throughout. I lean in closer, audibly gasping as I take in the state of my neck.

My wound is completely healed, not a scar or scratch in sight. I poke at the area where it once was, expecting to feel some pain or discomfort, and am shocked that the skin feels completely normal. Maybe the King gave me some more medicine or something to put on it?

As I examine my neck I notice that there are small purple marks scattered about. I lean in closer to get a good look but can't quite figure out what they are. The color is very faint and hardly noticeable, but I prod at them anyway in curiosity.

I've never seen anything like this before, and their sudden appearance concerns me. If they are still there in a couple of days I'll ask one of the older servants about it. Most here are under the age of forty as the older humans tend to get put down, so I don't know how much help they will be, but it's better than nothing.

Shaking my head, I tear my gaze from the mirror and slip off the King's clothing. My cheeks heat up as I remove them, unable to wrap my head around the fact that he was kind enough to lend me his personal clothing. Most Beasts would have just had me stay in my ruined ones.

My dress smells like laundry detergent, a scent I'm not used to smelling on myself, causing a large smile spread across my face. I can't remember the last time I had my clothing cleaned with actual laundry soap.

Usually, when we slaves need our garments cleaned we will just bring them into the shower with us to give the underarms and crotch a quick scrub with body soap. It's not ideal, but does the job.

I quietly exit the King's bathroom and check to see if he is still asleep. To my surprise the bed is empty, the King is nowhere to be seen. I glance around to see if he's lurking in the shadows somewhere and notice that the office door is shut. He must have gone in there while I was in the bathroom.

I make my way over to his laundry bin to throw the sweatpants inside. As I toss them in a pair of pants catch my eye, and I reach in to grab them. My nose crinkles as I pull them out and realize that they are covered in vomit.

"Oh no." I mumble to myself, bringing them in closer to get a better look.

The vomit on his pants is clearly a mixture of bile and wine, and I throw them back into the basket in horror. Did I get sick on the King last night? No wonder he doesn't want me around to clean today. I wouldn't either.

I make a note to clean the laundry first thing tomorrow morning before shutting his closet door. Glancing around the room, I look around once more in a desperate attempt to figure out what happened last night.

A part of me wonders if he cleaned up after I left to hide the evidence that I was even here. I'm sure the King is feeling ashamed to have spent any sort of quality time with me. Especially after the public accusations his guest made about him having a soft spot for me.

Sighing, I take my leave, making sure not to let the door slam shut behind me. The hallway is still pretty empty, save for a couple of guards stationed along the walls. I don't doubt that word has already spread about the mess of a dinner last night, and I'm sure that my not returning to the slave's quarters was noticed as well.

I wouldn't be surprised if John thinks that I've been killed or am sitting in the dungeons. It's what I would have thought if I was him. A part of me wants to go and find John to assure him that I'm okay, but I'm sure he's already in the Second's quarters by now.

Not wanting to get him in trouble or reencounter the Second after his interrogation yesterday, I decide to just head down to the servant's quarters and wait for his return tonight.

The guards eye me as I walk through the corridors, quiet sneers falling from their lips as I pass, but I do my best to pretend I don't notice.

"Well if it isn't the King's little whore." A guard murmurs at me.

I ignore his statement and continue walking, hoping that he doesn't bother me any further. Thankfully he doesn't, but another guard leaves his post against the wall and moves to stand directly in front of me.

I stop in my tracks, glancing up to see the Beast that I spoke to weeks ago when I was called to the guard's quarters. He doesn't immediately say anything, but looks me over with squinted, judgmental eyes.

"So, is it true?" He asks.

I frown, confused by his question.

"Is what true?" I ask, voice quiet so as not to draw the attention of the other guards nearby.

"That you're the King's whore?"

"No!" I gasp, shocked that he would even think this. I quickly look around to make sure that nobody is paying attention to us.

I could be killed for even suggesting or letting rumors spread about the King and I. He may not have found his mate yet, but there is no doubt that when he does she will ensure that all slaves that have been rumored to have been with him will be executed.

The guard continues watching me, probably trying to detect if I'm lying, before sighing and stepping aside to let me pass. I waste no time scurry past him, steps quick and I rush to get back to the safety of the slave's quarters.

I knew that there would be hushed whispers after last night's dinner, but didn't expect that I would be confronted by them so abruptly. Clearly that was a foolish assumption on my end though.

Gwen stands by my bed as I enter the woman's area, her long arms ripping at my belongings and throwing them into my sack. I run up to her, enraged that she's touching my things.

"What are you doing?" I ask, voice tight.

She spins around to face me, eyes looking me up and down in disgust.

"Getting your shit out of here." She says snarkily, rolling her eyes and turning back around to my bed.

I reach around and snatch the sack out of her hand, furious that she thinks that she can just throw away all of my belongings. "Why? Don't touch my things!" I snap.

It's already full, all my clothing and treasures having been haphazardly thrown inside. Gwen leans back against my bed, watching me with squinted eyes as I begin unpacking. I can't believe it. I'm gone for one night and she starts clearing out my things.

"Great, and you can explain to the guards why you're still in here." She sneers.

"What are you talking about?"

I turn to face her, watching as she dramatically throws her hair back. She's clearly enjoying making me upset, and it takes everything in me not to hit her over the head with my sack.

"The guards told me to pack up your shit and bring it to your new room. Apparently being the King's little plaything really pays off."