Trophy Babe
~Ashina's POV~
Lobo stared at me with hate, his eyes cold and dark. I felt terrified as I feared for what would follow.
"You trash, you think you can talk back to me and disobey me? I own you bitch." He spat as he looked me in the eyes like a predator or a prey.
"Please stop, it's your child I'm carrying. Doing this to me would just hurt the baby. Please stop choking me..." My voice trembled as tears streamed down my face.
Lobo was unmoved, he wasn't interested in what i was saying, all he was concerned about was the fact that i disobeyed him and he needed to teach me a lesson.
He tightened his grip on my hair and pinned me to the wall, "you think you can oppose me? You think you have a smart mouth?" He asked in a husky, yet frightening voice.
With so much strain, I tried to speak. "No, it was never my intention to upset you. Please," I paused as i held his hand, "let me go, you're hurting me." I begged him.
He let me go after looking at me for a few seconds. I fell to the ground, my knee hitting against the floor. "Estel will be in here to help you prepare for the function, you better not waste time." Lobo said to me and walked out of the room without looking back.
He didn't care about the state I was in, which made me feel so broken. I crawled up from the floor and went to bed. I needed the bed to help massage my body and relieve me from the strong impact it had on the floor
The idea of parading myself like a trophy beside him left me feeling both anxious and resentful. I hated every bit of it but I still didn't have a choice but to be a walking trophy.
A soft knock on the door broke my thoughts and I knew without looking that it was Estel, available as always, she came to prepare me for the event. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself before calling her in.
“Come in, Estel,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
The door creaked open, and Estel stepped inside, what happened earlier made her overly reserved and i felt bad for her but what happened happened. I could sense a tension in her movements.
I nodded, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The cool marble floor sent a shiver through me, and I quickly made my way to the adjoining bath chamber, Estel following close behind.
As the tub filled with steaming water, infused with fragrant oils, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. The heat seeped into my bones, easing some of the tension. Estel's gentle hands gently washed my hair and scrubbed my skin.
“You seem tense, is everything okay?” Estel asked quietly, her fingers massaging my scalp.
“I suppose I am,” I admitted, closing my eyes against the sting of the soap. “There’s a lot going on, but can I complain?” I asked her rhetorically.
“Lord Lobo will be pleased to have you by his side,” she said, a hint of reassurance in her tone. She was trying to create a conversation, probably to ease the tension hanging in the air.
I sighed, leaning back against the tub’s edge. “It’s not just about pleasing him, Estel. There’s so much more at play. The pretense is suffocating, It’s exhausting." I lamented.
“I understand,” she said simply, her hands pausing while washing my hair. “But you are strong, and you will do well at the function, as you always do.” She encouraged me and continued to wash my hair.
Her faith in me was touching, even if I didn’t fully share it. Still, I appreciated her words and allowed myself to relax, if only for a moment. She didn't sound offended about the wrong accusation I threw at her earlier.
As soon as I finished taking my bath, Estel wrapped me in a towel and led me back to the bedroom, where the gown I'd be wearing was. It wasn't there before I went into the bathroom but I was certain that Lobo had brought it in.
“Lord Lobo chose well,” Estel said, holding up the dress for me to look at.
“He always does,” I murmured, though inwardly I bristled at the idea of my husband selecting my clothing. It was just another way he exerted control over my life. Was there ever a time that he did not seize the opportunity to control my life?
Estel helped me into the dress, her nimble fingers fastening the delicate clasps and smoothing the fabric. As she worked, I studied her in the mirror. Her facial expression was sad but I didn't know what to say or how to start a conversation to address what had transpired earlier. Irrespective of the fact that I had made her feel bad, I could see the flicker of something deeper in her eyes—concern, perhaps, or maybe an understanding of the burdens I carried.
When she was finished, I turned to face her. “Thank you, Estel. I don’t know what I would do without you.” I said to her,
“You’re most welcome, my lady,” she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'll always be here for you. Can we move on to your hair?”
I nodded, and she guided me to the mirror, where an array of pins, combs, and jewels lay. As she began to weave my hair, I allowed my thoughts to drift again.
They were all random thoughts of my pathetic life and the possible easy escape from it. I couldn't think of any apart from suicide. No matter how much I tried to take my mind off it, it was my only available escape.