The next several days were a blur of pain, dreams, and drug-induced slumber. At one point, I began thrashing so violently that Physician Matino ordered the guards to cuff each of my wrists to a bedpost, so I wouldn't exacerbate the cuts on my back. I remembered only snatches of reality — the tall guard spoon-feeding me, Physician Matino lathering my back with more salve, Niako's inscrutable gaze.

The bed was comfortable and the hands on me gentle, but the Day of Truth replayed through my mind like a never-ending nightmare. During the day, I wondered how Aunt Mitzy and the rest of Fooja would respond to this betrayal — or if the entire Kingdom already lay in ruins. I fell asleep imagining Finny hiding alone in the dark, scared and hungry, and awoke choking on the smell of burnt flesh. And in between it all, Niako's ominous words.

I've got better, more pleasurable ways to teach him obedience.

The memory of wanting — even craving — what Niako now threatened to do made the idea all the more odious. That night I had almost kissed him, was he already imagining what he would do after he Claimed me? How could I have allowed him to manipulate me so easily?

Almost a week after the Claiming Ceremony, I awoke to fingers skimming my back, delicately pressing the newly-formed scars. The hands felt warm and reassuring, like how my mother once traced my back while I fell asleep. My skin stirred under the touch with goosebumps of pleasure. But when my eyes slid open to meet Niako's dark gaze, I recoiled.

I jerked against the cuffs, still chained to the front two posts with only a foot of moving room. Niako's hand stilled.

"Good morning, Claimed. It appears your scars are healing well."

So this was it. Niako had waited for me to recover first, but it seemed my grace period had ended. Though I knew it was of no use, a desperate threat ripped from my chest.

"Don't you dare touch me, or I'll — I'll —"

Niako raised his eyebrows. "Or you'll what?"

I tugged at the cuffs again, and relentless pressure pulled back against me. Despair and defeat swelled inside my chest. I hadn't been able to save my father. I hadn't been able to save Finny. I couldn't even save myself. My eyes stung, and when I squeezed them shut, cool tears trickled from the corners.

Niako's voice became tentative. "...Toom?"

I blinked back the wetness, bracing myself to meet Niako's triumphant gaze. But his eyes held no triumph. Instead, he looked alarmed.

"What happened?" he said. "Why... why are you..."

"I know I can't stop you," I said, "But please don't. I will do anything. I will even call you..." 

But I still couldn't force the word out.

Niako's hand tensed on my back and then pulled away. "Stop. Don't say it."

Swallowing bile, I let my eyes close once more. If Niako no longer cared about being called Master, I could do nothing to dissuade him from whatever he planned to do to me.

"You really think I would..." Niako's voice sounded oddly strangled. "Don't flatter yourself. When I have my choice between so many willing men, why would I choose you?"

My breath hitched in my chest. I opened my eyes again. "But at the Claiming Ceremony, you said —"

"I said what I had to say to appease the crowd."

Relief flooded my chest, but I pushed back against it, wary of false hope. "Then why Claim me?"

"You know that already. I want to watch you suffer."

I thought of the misery deep in my bones, the acrid defeat on my tongue, and the suffocating weight on my chest.

"In that case, you must be very pleased."

His jaw clenched. "Yes. Very."

He pushed to his feet and left the room.

* * *

During the next week, Niako did not touch me. The guards uncuffed me to give me a tan tunic that matched the trousers. Then they cuffed only my right wrist to a rung on the floor beside the bed with several feet of chain, allowing me to stand up, eat, and relieve myself more easily.

Physician Matino continued his daily ministrations, even though the pain from the lashes had already faded to an irritating itch. I made numerous attempts to ask Matino questions, but he shook his head and nodded toward the guard at the door. 

Then one day, he finally spoke.

"The scars will remain, of course, but your back is almost completely healed." 

He didn't sound pleased. Perhaps he was worried about the same thing I was: we were about to lose our last chance to communicate.

Physician Matino turned toward the tall thin guard who leaned against the door.

"Tibo," said Matino, "Would you be so kind as to bring me some fresh rags?"

Tibo frowned, flipping back his mop of brown hair to scrutinize the two of us. "I don't understand why Prince Niako is letting a physician from Fooja tend to the Claimed."

"I suppose I am the only one he can be sure the Claimed will not attack," said Matino.

"I'll be back in just a minute," said Tibo, "So don't try anything."

Matino rolled his eyes as he had once done upon seeing a new minor injury. But the moment Tibo shut the door behind himself, Matino leaned over me, body tense.

"Your Highness, all of Najila knows you are alive, and Fooja is declaring you the true king. Mitzy is recruiting soldiers in preparation for war with Rakim. Busk, Bund, and Kulas have refused to declare their loyalties yet, and Kalasiki is obviously supporting Rakim, but many independent tribes are siding with Fooja. Submit to Niako now — do whatever you need to do to stay alive — and all of Najila will one day submit to you."

For several seconds, my emotions warred, vying for supremacy. Then a single thought pushed the rest aside.

"What about Finny, Matino? Where is she? Is she alright?"

His face pinched, and his hair looked whiter, the creases in his brown skin darker than they had just a week before.

"I don't know, Your Highness. Some are saying she was killed, but the details seem to be healing quite nicely. No infection. I don't think I need those rags, after all."

I blinked at him for a moment before realizing Tibo had opened the door again and held a couple rags in his outstretched hand. His arm fell down to slap his side as he scowled at Physician Matino.

"Then I trust you will not need to see the Claimed again," said Tibo.

"Quite right," said Matino. "I'm sure he will manage just fine on his own now." He dipped his head toward Tibo and slipped past him out the door.

Tibo started to follow Matino, but I called out to him before he could disappear.

"Tibo, wait."

He turned back toward me with fists propped on his jutting hipbones. "This better be important, Claimed."

"I just need to know what happened to my sister. Please, if you know anything —"

"No." He shook his hair out of his eyes again and held up a skeletal hand. "Stop right there. That is not a question for a Claimed to ask."

"Please, Finny is my only —" I started.

He whisked out the door and slammed it behind him.

Matino had tried to give me hope of the nation's continuing support. Hope of a rescue. Hope that I could still one day be king. The truth was, only one thing he had said interested me at the moment.

Some are saying she was killed.

When the short guard entered my cell an hour later to bring in a new bucket for me, I tried again.

"Pafar, do you have a sister?"

He jerked and spun toward me, nearly dropping the bucket. Then he set the bucket down just out of my range and slid it toward the bed with his foot.

"Don't speak to me, Claimed."

"I need to know what happened to my sister," I said. "If you can just tell me that, I'll never bother you again."

He folded his arms over his chest, biceps bulging. "You're a Claimed. You don't have a sister. You don't have anything."

It seemed I would not be gaining Pafar's sympathy. I decided to change tactics.

"Well, I apparently have two guards who wait on me day and night."

He clenched his hands into fists hard enough that his knuckles cracked, veins screaming on his forearms. "You shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you."

"You wouldn't dare to touch me," I said. "You are scared of Niako."

His nostrils flared, and he took two steps toward me. A few more steps, and I could try to wrap the chain around his head and strangle him.

I would just have to hope he was carrying the key for my shackle.

As he swung, I raised my arm to block, but my muscles moved as if swimming through thick prak. I realized only then how weak I still was. My back may have healed, but my body was drained.

His fist caught me in the throat, and I fell back wheezing. His face loomed in front of mine. I struggled to raise my right arm high enough to whip the chain over his head, but he swatted my arm aside and raised his arm for another blow.

I kicked out at his legs. My bare feet shoved against the corded muscle of his thighs, forcing him to stagger back a step. He cursed as he toppled the bucket, then stepped forward with murderous purpose.

But when the door opened, Pafar froze in place.

Niako took one step into the room, shut the door with his heel, and said, "I would love for someone to explain what is happening here."

I forced myself to sit up and meet his gaze even as I massaged my throat.

Pafar straightened and snapped his hands together behind his back. "Your Highness, the Claimed attacked me. I was only defending myself."

"Pafar, the Claimed is chained to the floor."

Pafar visibly swallowed. "I was defending your honor, Your Highness. The Claimed called you 'Niako.' Not Master. Not even Prince."

Niako's gaze flicked to mine, and his expression shifted subtly, though I couldn't decide what changed. "Did he?"

Pafar's head bobbed several times. "Yes, Your Highness. And of course, I couldn't tolerate hearing him speak of you as such."

Niako's eyes remained on mine for a few more seconds. Then he turned back to Pafar and nodded. "Worry not. You will never have to hear that from him again."

"Thank you, Your Highness, I —"

"But you will have to find a new job."

Pafar's voice strangled off as he stared at Niako. "I — what?"

Niako flicked his wrist. "You heard me. You are dismissed from duty. Now get out of my home and never come back."

Pafar took two shaky steps toward Niako, mouth flapping open and shut several times. Then Niako raised an eyebrow, and Pafar scuttled toward the door.

* * *

After failing to beat Pafar, I decided I needed to start building up my strength again. I ate as much of the gruel as they would give me, and I did stretches and exercises several times a day, from push-ups to sit-ups to tricep dips on the bed frame.

Pafar did not return, but Tibo brought my meals and carried the bucket in and out several times a day. And on the second evening after Pafar was dismissed, a different but familiar guard entered my cell.

For a minute, he just stood looking at me, the bowl of gruel forgotten in his hand. The slit of waning sunlight through the window played across the pockmarks on his face. His eyes scanned my body, locked on the collar around my neck, and then lifted to meet my gaze.

Finally, he said, "Hello, Toom. You look well. For a Claimed."

A spark of hope flickered in my chest. He called me Toom. Maybe he would help.

"Hello, Ruck," I said. "Where were you?"

"On vacation." He set the bowl down on the floor a few feet from the bed where I sat and then backed away again, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his trousers. "I go out sailing for one week each month."

I remembered the book Niako had been reading on that ledge ten years before — an adventure at sea. He steals all of my books now. The memory filled my mind with sharp discord. 

"Niako allows you to do that?"

He shrugged. "Not really his choice. I negotiated for it fifteen years ago."

Back when Makash was Ruck's supervisor. I had a sudden image of Ruck's long blink when I told him Makash was going to hurt Niako on the night of the Serving Ceremony. Then I forced the image aside. That was another lifetime. I needed to focus on what mattered now.

"Where's Finny?"

He shook his head. "Ask Niako. Not me."

"I tried asking him. He said it was not my concern."

"Guess it's not, then."

With a sigh, I drew my knees up toward my chest and leaned my head back against the bedpost. I watched Ruck out of my peripheral, waiting for him to leave. He only continued to stand there looking at me. A minute passed before he spoke again.

"You know, he's at the Coupling right now," said Ruck. "Because he can't have you."

My stomach flipped. The thought of Niako at the Coupling imagining he was with me was at once repulsive and absurdly enticing. Heat crawled over my body like poison. I kept my face turned away from Ruck as I answered.

"No. He doesn't want me. If he did, nothing would stop him."

"You have more power over him than you think."

I turned my head toward him and raised my eyebrows. "I am his Claimed. How could I have power over him?"

His lips twisted to the side in what looked like an ironic smile, but it was hard to tell on his mutilated face. Then he said, "The Serving Ceremony is tomorrow night. You're not allowed to eat today or tomorrow."

"I've already eaten today."

"No, you haven't," he said, "And I am not giving you any food tonight. Do you understand?"

My eyes dipped to the bowl of gruel on the floor before returning to his face. "I... think so."

"The Serving Ceremony starts with the Claimed washing the feet of their Masters. That's more physical contact than Niako usually gets at a Coupling."

"And so?"

"And so use it."

I huffed a humorless laugh and dropped my head back against the headboard with a dull thud. "If you're asking me to seduce him, I already tried that. It did not go well."

"Hmm," said Ruck. "If you say so."