The Prince's Mistress

I hate you

Mata Hari

Had I lost my mind? Really. First I agree to sleep with the idiot- and now he's taking me out. Something sat in the pit of my stomach telling me that all this would end horribly. If the other staff found out...if my mother....

It was too much. I should just return to my quiet existence of hating Harry and hiding out in various places to read. In truth I don't think he's been counting how much money he's been giving me. Maybe if we rationed very carefully, I wouldn't need him any more. Yes! I'd sell little poems on papyrus to get the rest of the money.

"And get mugged by urchins in the inner sector?" My rational voice condescended.

If I had to say... sleeping with him was not SO bad. That burn he mentioned that first night, it wasn't a metaphor. Because my skin tingled in a way whenever he was near. And it fully engulfed me when he was inside of me, filling me deep with his cock until our skins made a loud smack with each rough impact. And then the words. Gods he was such a bullshit artist.

"Yours so beautiful"

"I've missed you"

"Please don't make me stop, you're almost there gorgeous"

"You're. Mine"

Bullshit artist.

**

I was in my room, sitting on my bed trying to gather myself. I couldn't get into the books I was reading because I kept thinking of Harry.

"Out for food! What a dumb idea"

Only nobility had that type of time to waste.

I'd tried to get out of it...

"I had nothing to wear!"

"I'll buy you a new dress."

"My ha-"

"Your hair looks great"
He reached up and squished a fizzed chunch of it between his fingers.

"Don't touch my hair."

"What are you doing now? The dress shops won't be open all day."

"I'll go alone!" I said defiantly.

"Okay then. Have it your way" he breathed through his nose.
"I and my worriers will be in the gymnasium training. If you run into any trouble-"

"I think I can purchase a dress without nearly dying", I said growing irritated that my lie turned into an errand.

"If it's any consolation, what you're wearing looks fine." He said as his eyes passed over my breast through my dress.

My skin burned at the compliment.

"I love the way you blush. You don't turn red but your nose wrinkles. Every time" he flashed a grin that sent me blushing, and apparently my nose wrinkling.
With that he laughed and was gone to the stables, dropping another ridiculously large sachet of gold in my palm before leaving.

**

I'd made it into town though my normal route.
In all of Laconia, young girls had more freedom of dress than in other parts of the world. On my way, I I passed the Olympic gym that Harry would be in. A few female athletes passed me with nothing but their wrappings on. Specifically in Sparta, clothing was simple and utilitarian, meant to allow for ease of movement during physical training and labor. However, on rare occasions, girls from wealthy families were allowed to purchase a dress for special events or ceremonies, and me too apparently.

I didn't pick the nicest dress shop in the shopping district. I was dressed in a tattered muslin gown with a stain from that mornings breakfast marking the collar, with old worn sandals and tangled hair. The shopkeeper, a long faced, slender middle-aged woman named Daphne, I assumed as the shop had a heavily graffitied carved wooden epitaph reading Daphne's Shop across its threshold.