You wish Claude'd killed you alongside the rest of his concubines. Living within his palace was no better. There was no freedom in his mercy. No salvation.
You're to stay put where and when he tells you. To keep the shackle on your ankle. You've learned not to ask why he keeps you. Why you're still alive.
"Well?" Claude's gaze is suffocating; prodding from across the table. He hasn't moved at all. He's waiting for you to eat--like he always does to make sure you're alive and breathing.
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