|Drucilla V. Henthorn|
"Miss Henthron?" A cavernous voice called from the door of my humble cottage.
"I'm not available right now! Come back in an hour, so sorry." I responded, fumbling around to find a decently fitting robe. Finding my silk crimson red robe, draping it over my naked body, and tying the string of the robe.
"Miss Henthorn, I'm not a normal client." The voice corresponded as I groaned, laying my body weight against the wooden door as I rubbed my temples, in an attempt to soothe the pounding headache ringing through my noggin. I lifted one hand away, aiming to rest it on the door as it began to spark every so slightly. A quick flame of light flashed from my fingertips.
God, I hate being hungover. Even though it had slowly become only a headache and a slight blur to my vision. It sucked, especially with these stupid hallucinations. Only royalty has powers, it was impossible for me to not be a delusion to some decree.
Unlike my fake powers, the very real knocking at my door continued.
"I have a deal for you. One that can save you from his life, the life your mother led. But, I need you to open the door." The voice grew relentless as I squandered the idea of letting them in.
"What if they kill me?" I conversed with myself.
"Worse. what if they rape me."
"Okay, fair play. But, they could be trying to help you. Your mother just passed, and people pity you. Use that." I truly am a genius, what can I say?
I giggled to myself as I unlocked the six locks leading up to my rigid door, leaving the three chains on as I creaked the door open with a slutty smirk.
"Holy fuck.." I gasped, my eyes slowly scanning the sensual man presented in front of me.
His caramel skin was saturated with a dewy appeal cast by the early morning sun. The man stood perfectly chiseled as if he was meant to be some sort of God. Perfectly organized in his attire, not messy or dirty, unlike the other men from this area. His abs stood through his white button up his strong arms almost bulging, almost as if he was permanently flexing. His chiseled jaw and his sad attempt at a peach fuzz only added to the endless appeal. As muscular as he was, it wasn't too much or too little. He looked as if he was perfect for hugging, picking you up, and twirling you like you were the lightest toy in the world. His bright emerald green eyes clawed me in. His silky black hair lay in a messy careless bun.
"May I come in, Drucilla?" The man asked as he swallowed, rocking on his heels with his hands set in his pockets.
"Depends." I shot, squinting my eyes to meet his intimidating ones.
"On?"
"How'd you learn my name, hot stuff."
"Ah. Well, when you market yourself off as a harlot, your name runs through the streets." The man pounced back as I smirked, unlocking the door, resting my dominant hand on the doorknob as the tall man walked by me, his head barely missing the doorframe.
"Thank you, Drucilla." He called my name again as I rushed to pull a chair up for the man, a smirk forming on his pink lips as he cocked his head.
"Yeah," I responded shallowly, struggling to keep my breast from escaping the grasp of my tiny robe. "How can I help you, Mister..?" I asked, crawling onto my dusty kitchen table. The old piece of junk creaked ever so slightly as I settled myself, looking into his cunning eyes.
"Oh, you're right, most people don't know me. I'm Ender Larnwick. I came to propose a deal."
"If you're a Larnwick.." The man gave me a friendly smirk, patting my head endearingly.
"You're the King?" I exclaimed, almost uphauled, jumping down from the table as the endless pounding in my head only grew louder.
"Yes, what's so wrong with that?" Ender questioned, keeping his hands to himself as I drifted around the cottage.
"You can't be seen anywhere near me, it'd ruin my reputation and unfortunately it'd ruin your family's shitty dynasty!"
"You're angry. I am too, that's why I'm here. Drucilla, hear me out. I'm not like my parents, I want to help you."
"If you're so sure, tell me about your proposal. What? You wanna have casual sex then fuck me over in the end?" I felt my blood boiling as I grew irritated by the blissful ignorance this man had.
"Be my friend." The man spoke, gripping my wrist firmly as he pulled me against him, his eyes meeting mine as his jaw clenched. His other hand rested on my waist as he held me close. Attempting to make his point as I try to seamlessly get away. His arms don't lie, the man was strong.
"I'm paying you to be my friend. Nothing more. I want to see you be more than what your mother was. I want what's best for my people, and if I can help you then they'll listen."
"So I'm a damn charity case to you? King Ender, you don't understand what I've gone through or why I'm here."
"Your not. I want to help you because you deserve someone's hand to hold. I was at the funeral. Your right, I don't understand, so make me understand. I need your help, Drucilla." I let out a threatening growl, ripping my hand from his wrist as he watched me, an endless flame burning in his eyes.
"Why do you need me?" I stated more than I asked, holding my ground as the King stood the tension in the air seeming to fill both of our lungs.
"Drucilla, you are the only person that I know will make them listen. Everyone's wrapped around your finger."
"Do you even understand why that is?" I questioned, gripping onto my rusty kitchen counter, his eyes stuck on my figure.
"Because you're their whore."
"Exactly. Why would they listen to me."
"All you have to do is tell them to lean into me. Maybe at the end of each session. Even beyond that, we're similar."
"This King has some fucking nerve." I thought to myself, quietly looking around for my painkillers.
"How. You're a King now, with parents that loved you and shielded you. I'm a fucking orphan! I was never shown love or compassion." The ballsy man scoffed, standing next to me as I struck gold, finding a loaded bottle of Tylenol.
"My parents locked me in a castle and ran away from me. They never cared for my opinions or my feelings. We were a dollhouse, falling apart at the stems." He stiffly responded as I scent two pills down my throat, cracking open a water and swallowing harshly.
"You sure?" I asked cockily, approaching the man again, getting inches away from his face as I panted. An angry glare met my own as I smirked.
"Positive."
"Sure." A tension-filled silence fell over us, his eyes glancing over my body. Trying to read me, my own trying to figure out why my hands continued to tingle.
"How old are you, Drucilla."
"How old are you, Ender?" I asked coyly as the golden man smirked.
"Seventeen, eighteen in a couple of months."
"Sixteen. Seventeen next year." The man eyed my body once more.
"Explains a lot."
"What does that mean?" I questioned as the man grunted in discomfort, rearranging himself in my wooden chair. "You're very, mature." I couldn't help but laugh, feeling a slit slip of tension. As if we somewhat understood each other.
"So, you're an orphan and a King. Weird blend."
"You can say that again." The man shed me a brief smirk.
I shook off the nostalgic feeling, cutting back to what really mattered.
"How much are we talking big shot," I asked, caressing his jaw with a gentle hand. I found it easier to gain control when a man was aroused.
"Anything you need. Anything you want, you have it."
"And what exactly do you need, King Ender."
"A friend, someone to keep what I say to themselves. Someone that cares for more than my dynasty. Someone that cares about me, on a personal level." He said bitterly, his eyes flickering from my lips back up to my eyes. That was easy.
"What's your wife gonna say when she finds out your running around with a harlot?" I questioned, trailing my hand from his jaw to his shoulders, tracing them ever so lightly.
"She is not my wife. There's no spark."
"Literally, or magically?"
"Both."
"Fine. You have yourself a deal. As long as this exchange is a secret." I cocked my eyebrow as he nibbled on his bottom lip, his eyes gleaming with delight.
"We have a deal, My dearest, Drucilla."
Perfect. The sooner I stopped having to make ends meat with my body, the sooner I could be something, anything.
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