Page 54 of Muerte

Did he not realize the contradiction in his statement? He must’ve, because his next words showed he was well aware.

“I will hurt you. I won’t pretend otherwise. And more often than not, the pain will be intertwined with pleasure, even if you bleed for it. But I would never intentionally harm your heart.”

There was a disturbingly endearing quality to his honesty. His emotions and ways of thinking were not bound by conventional norms and defied simple classification.

His promises of devotion, the way he persistently declared his claim over me… it was all too overwhelming.

“What will happen to Nicolette now? Will she be okay?” Her situation was a safer anchor for my thoughts right then, a much-needed lifeline in the tumultuous sea that was Alexander.

“She’ll be fine. It's not an unusual occurrence, Lolita. It was actually requested by her betrothed."

His casual tone did little to quell the shock that rippled through me. The notion that such punishments were commonplace here left me reeling. "Why didn't he handle it himself?" I asked, trying to grasp the logic.

"Being disciplined by me is seen as a privilege," he explained. "It's a way to ensure she doesn't falter in her responsibilities."

I was dumbstruck. The concept was beyond my comprehension.

The thought that I might someday face such a punishment, the crack of a cane against my skin until it split open…

"I would never do that to you," he stated firmly, as if reading my thoughts.

His assurance didn't quite convince me, but I knew better than to challenge his perspective. My mind was more occupied with Nicolette's fate. "So, what happens to her now?"

"She'll receive care and then return to assist you. I’d prefer she cease to exist, but her father is a good man and would somehow feel responsible for her failure. Esther also intervened."

“They seem like good friends.”

"She didn’t do it for her. She did it for you.”

“Me?” I questioned disbelievingly.

“If Nicolette were to be reassigned, it would be seen as a direct affront to you.”

“And that would mean?”

“It would mean she offended you, and offending you is one of the greatest disrespects to me. She’d be ostracized, which is as good as being dead.”

I took a breath and ran a hand through my hair, carefully choosing my words. “That seems rather extreme.”

He scoffed in clear disagreement and wrapped an arm around my waist. “She got off far too lightly.”

“But you did let her off,” I pointed out.

“Are you trying to humanize me, deliciae?” he asked with a hint of amusement. “The only reason she is still breathing is because my sister didn’t want her death on your conscious. I happened to agree.”

“How kind of you.” Leaning back into the chaise, I processed his words, a tumult of thoughts swirling in my head. The doctrine's teachings echoed in my mind, yet the sheer extremity of it all was hard to digest.

Wronging me, even in a petty manner, was apparently an offense grave enough to warrant death.

That was madness.

I didn't want this kind of power, this responsibility that came with one man’s obsession. My emotions were a rollercoaster, far from his steady control. At the rate I was going, I’d have a dozen people dead within a week’s time.

“She upset you.” His voice cut through my thoughts. A statement, not a question. I felt compelled to respond, anyway.

Nicolette's words seemed like something I’d heard eons ago instead of hours. The thought of her possibly suffering further because of them, and thanks to me, was unbearable. "Yeah, she said something that got under my skin, but it wasn’t so bad that she deserved what just happened to her."

His smile was faint, knowing. "Aren’t you curious how I knew?"