The echo of Selena's father's hasty departure still vibrated in the opulent air. The heavy silence that followed was a suffocating blanket, woven with threads of trepidation and simmering resentment. Leo, his expression an unreadable mask, turned on his heel. "Follow," he commanded, the word clipped and devoid of warmth.
Selena's heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Each beat was a frantic drum solo, a soundtrack to the fear that coiled tighter with every step she took behind him. What awaited her? What torturous game was he about to unleash? He exuded an aura of controlled power, a predator toying with its prey. She knew resistance was futile, at least for now. She followed, her footsteps echoing softly on the polished marble, each click a tiny rebellion swallowed by the immense space.
Leo stopped before a door that was larger and more ornate than the entrance to her family's entire living quarters. He gestured curtly. "This is your room."
Selena hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. She cautiously stepped inside, her eyes widening in disbelief. It was a sanctuary of pure indulgence. A massive four-poster bed draped in silk canopies dominated the space. The soft glow of strategically placed lamps painted the walls a warm, inviting hue. Beyond the sleeping area, she saw a lavishly appointed sitting room, complete with plush sofas, a writing desk crafted from dark wood, and a balcony overlooking a meticulously manicured garden. It was a world away from her own spartan room, a stark contrast that only amplified her sense of unease.
It was undeniably beautiful, exceeding her wildest dreams of comfort and luxury. The sheer size of the room dwarfed her, making her feel even more insignificant. Her own room felt like a cramped cell compared to this extravagant space. There was even a small, private training area, equipped with various weights and sparring dummies – better equipped than anything she'd ever had access to before.
Seeing her stunned silence, a cruel smirk twisted Leo's lips. "Consider it a perk," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "Benefits for a maid. Don't let it go to your head."
The words were a slap in the face, instantly extinguishing the flicker of awe that had momentarily softened her expression. A furious frown etched itself onto her brow. This insufferable man, this arrogant oaf, missed no opportunity to remind her of her supposed inferiority. He was determined to deflate her, to crush any vestige of pride she possessed. Stinky guy, she thought venomously, unconsciously pursing her lips in a childish pout. The opulent surroundings suddenly felt less enticing, tainted by his presence and his insidious attempts to humiliate her.
Leo, seemingly oblivious or perhaps deliberately ignoring her displeasure, retrieved something from a nearby wardrobe. He tossed it at her without a word.
Selena caught the bundle reflexively, her eyes widening in horror as she realized what it was. A maid's uniform. But not just any maid's uniform. This was a scandalously short, ridiculously revealing confection of frills and lace. The skirt barely skimmed her thighs, and the bodice plunged so low that it threatened to expose far more than she was comfortable with. It was more akin to a courtesan's attire than something a servant would wear.
Her cheeks burned with mortification. The fabric, a delicate silk, felt like a brand against her skin. This was deliberate, a calculated attempt to strip her of her dignity, to reduce her to nothing more than a decorative object in his gilded cage.
"I… I can't wear this," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. Refusal burned in her eyes, a defiant spark in the face of his blatant cruelty.
Leo's expression hardened, the casual amusement vanishing, replaced by a glacial indifference. "I wasn't asking," he warned, his voice a low growl. "Obey my orders, Selena. Don't test my patience."
His words were laced with a threat, an unspoken promise of consequences she didn't dare imagine. The fight drained out of her, replaced by a cold, sinking dread. She knew from the glint in his eyes that he wouldn't back down. He held all the power, and she was trapped.
With gritted teeth, she mumbled, "Fine." The word tasted like ashes in her mouth.
Leo nodded, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features. "Good. I'll leave you to change. I expect to see you in full uniform shortly." He turned and strode towards the door, pausing only to add, "And don't think about altering it. I'll know."
He left, the heavy door clicking shut behind him, leaving Selena alone in the suffocating silence, the offending garment clutched tightly in her hands. A wave of nausea washed over her. This was more than she had bargained for. This wasn't just servitude; it was a blatant attempt to control her, to degrade her, to break her spirit.
Minutes crawled by as she wrestled with her emotions. Resentment warred with fear, defiance with resignation. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, she began to undress.
The silk of the maid's uniform felt icy against her skin. As she fastened the numerous buttons and adjusted the ridiculously short skirt, a wave of self-consciousness washed over her. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly humiliated. Looking at her reflection in the ornate mirror, she barely recognized herself. This wasn't Selena, the proud warrior, the skilled fighter. This was a caricature, a cheap imitation of a servant girl designed to titillate and demean.
She covered as much of her chest and her thighs as she could, trying to add a little cloth to conceal her more exposed areas.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out, the echo of her own footsteps mocking her.
Leo was waiting for her in the sitting room, his back to her, gazing out at the manicured garden. He didn't turn as she entered, but she could feel his gaze upon her, assessing, appraising.
Then, he turned, his dark eyes glinting with something she couldn't quite decipher. He circled her slowly, his gaze lingering on every curve and contour.
"Tsk, tsk," he said, his voice a low hum that sent shivers down her spine. "Your attitude is atrocious, a constant thorn in my side. But I must admit, your figure is… quite pleasing."
Selena's cheeks flared, the heat spreading down her neck and across her chest. She was acutely aware of the way the fabric clung to her skin, of the exposed flesh that seemed to scream for attention. Being objectified, having her body dissected and judged, was a far more terrifying experience than any battlefield she had ever faced.
Before she could formulate a response, before she could even brace herself, Leo moved with lightning speed. He closed the distance between them, his hand snaking out to cup her chin, tilting her face up to meet his.
And then, he kissed her.
Not a gentle brush of lips, not a tentative exploration. It was a possessive, forceful invasion, his mouth claiming hers with an intensity that stole her breath away. His lips were hard, demanding, his tongue pushing past her defenses, exploring the delicate interior of her mouth.
Selena instinctively recoiled, struggling against his hold. She was a 1st Realm fighter; she was strong, agile, capable of defending herself against almost any physical threat. But in that moment, she was paralyzed, caught off guard by the sheer audacity of his actions. She tried to pull away, to break free from his suffocating embrace, but he held her firm, his grip unyielding.
She pushed and shoved against him, but he was too strong. He held her in place, and she was forced to endure his kiss.
Time seemed to warp and distort, stretching into an eternity. The world narrowed to the sensation of his lips on hers, the taste of his saliva, the pressure of his hands on her body. She felt violated, disgusted, and utterly helpless.
As the kiss deepened, something shifted within her. The initial shock gave way to a numb resignation. Her struggles lessened, her body going limp in his arms. Perhaps, she thought dimly, resistance was futile. Perhaps it was better to simply endure, to weather the storm, until she could find a way to escape this gilded cage.
His kiss continued, more rough and forceful now. His hands moved down her body, gripping her sides, and pulling her closer.
After what felt like an eternity, a gasp escaped her lips as he finally broke the kiss. A thin strand of saliva connected their mouths, a visible testament to the intensity of the encounter.
Selena stood motionless, her chest heaving, her mind reeling. She was a storm of conflicting emotions: anger, humiliation, fear, and something else, something she couldn't quite name, a faint flicker of… what? Curiosity? Disgust? She didn't know.
"You… you took my first kiss," she blurted out, the words laced with resentment and a strange sense of loss.
Leo smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, savoring the taste of her. "Consider it another perk," he purred, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "Your first kiss, your everything… is mine."
Before she could protest, before she could even gather her thoughts, he swept her into his arms and carried her towards the bed. The night that followed was a blur of sensations, a chaotic mix of pain and pleasure, resistance and surrender.
At first, Selena fought him, her body tense and unyielding. But as the night wore on, as his touch became more insistent, more demanding, something within her began to unravel. The fear subsided, replaced by a strange, unsettling awareness. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but also… strangely alive.
The initial resistance was almost forgotten as the passionate night went on and Selena started to mingle with Leo. At first, she resisted with her might, but after a while she slowly changed and accepted the situation.
The night was long and filled with heavy breaths, forceful grabs, and touches. At first, Selena hated it, but after a while she started to accommodate to Leo's rhythm and did everything that he wanted.
The moon climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the room, as she actively cooperated and mingled with Leo. The long night full of intimate moment finally came to its end and Selena could barely move or take a breath at this point.
The gilded cage had become her prison, and Leo, her captor, her master. But as the night drew to a close, as she lay exhausted in his arms, she couldn't help but wonder if she had become something more than just a prisoner. Had she, in some small, twisted way, become a participant in her own captivity? And if so, what did that say about her?