I’m frozen to the spot, fighting tears, fearful of turning around and confronting the heartless man who just sent my only support system away for the next month.

“Don’t stand with your back to me.”

I pivot. “Why did you send them away?” Anger vibrates in my limbs, rushing through my blood until I’m brimming with it. I embrace the sting in my eyes, unwilling to shed a single tear in his presence.

He appears unmoved by my outburst, his expression wooden as his stride brings him within arm’s reach. “It’s not your place to question me.” He points to the floor. “Kneel.”

I go down, my mind flashing back to a month ago when my uncle forced me to my knees for the chancellor. Unwittingly, my attention darts to Mr. Bordeaux’s zipper.

Unlike Liam, he’s not aroused.

I cling to that small favor.

“Down on your haunches.”

My ass meets the back of my heels.

“Bow your head.”

Aiming my gaze at the floor, I follow his movement from the corner of my eye as he wanders behind me.

“Hands on your thighs, palms up.” He murmurs his approval after I do what I’m told. “Good. This is how you’ll kneel in my presence. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Bordeaux,” I say, lifting my head enough to peek at him as he approaches the other side of me.

“I see you’ve learned a little respect since our meeting in the chancellor’s penthouse.” Three more steps brings him full circle. “But there’s room for improvement.”

My pulse ratchets as one word blares in my mind, as loud and panic inducing as a scream.

Dungeon.

“I’ll do my best to learn, Mr. Bordeaux.”

Anything to get through the next thirty days unscathed.

“Queens are to be seen, not heard. You will not speak unless spoken to. Do you understand?”

I don’t understand at all.

“Do you understand, my queen?” he enunciates slowly.

I stutter out an answer. “Y-yes…but…what if I need to say something?”

“It’s yes, Mr. Bordeaux.” His ire lands in the thump of his shoes as he circles me once more. “If you feel the need to speak, then you’ll raise your hand, and I’ll either grant permission or deny it.”

I lick my lips, eliminating the question weighing on my tongue.

The one I can’t ask.

The one I’m afraid to learn the answer to.

What happens if I break his rules?

“We’ll begin with a training session in the dungeon. You need to know this isn’t a punishment. I’m giving you the necessary information and training so you know, without a doubt, what your duties and boundaries are.”

Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe his cold detachment will mean more distance between us. The lump of dread in my belly warns otherwise.

Mr. Bordeaux thrusts out a hand. “You may rise.”