I want to deny him, but Tristan’s warnings echo in my mind. The only rule of this place is total obedience. Denying the king could easily lead to my death.
With shaking hands, I slowly reach up and pull down the scraps of my shirt from my torso. They fall to the floor in a blood splattered pool.
Caleb watches, his heated gaze tracing over every each of newly revealed skin.
“Your skirts,” he commands. “That’s where I will need to inspect.”
Keeping my chin high in an attempt to maintain dignity, I undo the band holding my skirt in place and push it down my hips.
Caleb’s watchful eye catches a scar on my belly. Lifting a hand, he traces his fingers across it. “What is this, then?”
“It’s an old injury from an accident when I was young.” What does he think it is? A C-section scar? It’s n
