Chapter 6 His Command

Indigo stood before the mirror, staring at the clothes Gia had thrown at her as though they belonged to someone else. The top was too tight, the skirt too short, and the whole outfit made her hands curl at her sides, but the sting on her cheek from Gia’s earlier slap reminded her that pride had a price in this mansion. For now, she would survive first and feel disgust later.

She put the clothes on slowly and forced herself not to keep looking at her reflection. Earlier in the kitchen, Gia had made her wash dishes with sore hands and trembling legs, and when one plate slipped from her fingers and broke, Gia had slapped her before she could explain. That was enough of a lesson for one day. Gia wanted a reason to hurt her, and Indigo would not make it easy.

When her eyes moved to the wall clock, her breath caught. Caspian had ordered her to appear in his room within three minutes, but six had already passed. “Oh God,” she whispered, hurrying out of the room. As she moved through the mansion, she counted each turn and corridor despite the fear pressing against her chest. The kitchen was two corridors from the staircase, the servants’ wing seemed to be on the left, and Caspian’s room sat in a quieter part of the mansion. If she ever wanted to escape, she needed to know the house better than the people guarding it.

That small courage almost vanished when she stopped outside Caspian’s door. She knocked softly, and when his calm voice told her to come in, her fingers tightened around the handle before she opened it.

Caspian sat on a couch with an office file in his hand. The sight of it pulled her unexpectedly toward memories of her father, who used to sit with similar files when she was little. Whenever she asked what they contained, he would smile and call them important things. Indigo had never cared enough to ask more, but now she wondered if those papers had held the secrets everyone was punishing her for.

Caspian dropped the file beside him and stood. His eyes moved from her to the clock, then back to her face. “I said three minutes, Indigo. Three.”

“I…” Her voice failed.

“Kneel.”

Indigo hesitated for only a second, but Caspian crossed the room before she could fix her mistake. His hand closed around her neck and pinned her to the wall, forcing a broken gasp from her as her knees sank toward the floor. “I see how much you enjoy being punished,” he murmured, his voice low and controlled. “What you demand is what you get.”

His nails cut into her skin, and Indigo’s hands flew to his wrist as warmth slid slowly down her neck. “Please, Master,” she choked out. “I’m sorry. Please.”

Caspian’s face did not soften. If anything, the fear in her eyes seemed to drag something darker out of him, something that looked less like victory and more like an old wound reopening. “When I tell you to kneel, you kneel immediately. You follow every command I give. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Master.”

He released her, and Indigo dropped fully to her knees, pressing one hand to her neck while fighting the urge to move. The floor hurt beneath her, but she had already learned that in this room, even standing without permission could become another offense.

“The next time you disobey me,” Caspian said, turning away, “I will punish you until you beg for death.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

She tried to rise, but his slap caught her before she could stand. Pain spread across her cheek, and the taste of blood filled her mouth.

“You stand only when I say so.”

Indigo lowered her head, but the question that had been burning inside her refused to stay buried. Everyone in this mansion spoke as if her father had committed an unforgivable sin, yet no one had told her what it was. She lifted her face, her voice shaking but clear. “What was my father’s crime? Why don’t you just say it? What did he do that is so terrible I have to suffer for it?”

Caspian’s eyes darkened, and Indigo knew at once that she had gone too far. She closed her eyes, waiting for another blow, but it never came. When she opened them, Caspian was watching her with a cold smirk.

“You dare speak to me that way,” he said. “I’ll spare you this time, not because you deserve it, but because I want you to remember that my patience is not mercy.”

“Yes, Master,” Indigo said, lowering her gaze.

Caspian returned to the couch. “Stand.”

She obeyed.

His eyes stayed on her long enough to make her skin tighten. Then he gave another order. “Strip.”

Indigo’s fingers went cold, but she did not let herself cry out. She remembered Elena’s warning, Gia’s cruelty, Caspian’s hand around her neck, and the blood drying on her skin. If she could not fight him openly, she would survive him quietly. Her hands shook as she obeyed, but her mind held onto one thing he had just failed to hide.

Her question had hurt him.

Caspian’s next command came in a low voice. “Go to the table. Give me your back.”

Indigo moved to the table and gripped the edge, forcing herself to breathe slowly as he approached from behind. What followed stole the air from the room, but she refused to surrender the only place he could not reach: her mind. She counted each breath, fixed her eyes on one carved line in the table, and repeated her mother’s words until they became stronger than the fear.

Be strong. Be tough. Live first. Fight later.

Caspian said nothing. His silence pressed harder than his anger, turning him into something colder than a man and sadder than a monster. Indigo could not see his face, but she felt the restraint in him, the rage he kept locked behind his control, and the battle he refused to name.

Then he pulled away without warning.

“Get out,” he barked.

Before Indigo could speak, Caspian walked into the bathroom and shut her out as if he could no longer stand the sight of her.