| XXIII |

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Ashelin woke in a daze, warm and wet. Her entire body jerked and splashed.

"It's okay dear, you're safe now." A male voice, with a vaguely British accent. She whipped her head to the left to see a blonde man perched on an ornate silk chair dressed in a bright pink suit.

"Where am I? Who the fuck are you?" Ashelin swatted a hand away from her, realizing there were two naked women in a bath with her. It was more like a lagoon than a bath, really. Did this guy get off on watching two slaves bathe an unconscious woman?

"You are in the once wondrous country of Kyrat, of which I am the King Pagan Min." He spread his arms and bowed in his chair. "I've liberated you from that hell of an island to my palace."

"Liberated?" Ashelin scoffed, and swatted another hand, shooting one of the women a death glare. Pagan snapped his fingers and they vacated the water, grabbing towels and heading out of the spacious room. "Don't you mean you bought me?" she continued. "Five mil, I hear. I'm flattered, but you're going to be disappointed."

"I didn't purchase you for me." Pagan crossed his legs and leaned back. "My son is on his way to overthrow my crown, and I thought he could use a nice North American wife. He'll treat you better than those pirates."

"Those pirates were treating me just fine." Ashelin snapped.

The King raised an eyebrow. "Being raped and sold into slavery is fine?"

"I wasn't raped or sold until Hoyt got his hands on me." She stood up defiantly, unashamed in her nakedness. "Vaas was hiding me from him and when Hoyt found out, he tortured him and then made him watch as I was abused and taken away. To you!" In the absence of anything to throw, she heaved water at him in her anger.

Pagan blinked at her, and slowly stood up, water dripping off his now sopping form. "I could have you killed for that."

"Go ahead," she challenged. "Vaas is probably dead now anyway."

He clicked his tongue and stalked from the room.

Ashelin wasn't sure what to do. A sob escaped her and she screamed, smacking the water a few times to try to vent her pent up emotions. It worked a little, or at least enough that she swallowed her tears and straightened her shoulders.

She didn't know for sure that Vaas was dead. She couldn't give up yet. But she had to take things one at a time. First things first—get out of there.

She scanned the luxurious bathroom and spotted a shelf in the far corner with some towels and a stack of folded up fabric. She dried herself off, ignoring the stiffness in her body from Brock's brutal invasion.

She absently remembered how she'd woken up after her first night with Vaas in a bath as well, and her chest tightened. How exhilarating that had been. Now she just felt empty.

She clenched her fists. Brock would be the first to die. Then Archon.

Then Hoyt.

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