I’m a princess, locked in a golden prison. He says he’ll break me. He says, “Darling, I will break you.” I don’t look at him.
Slaps me in the face. That’s nothing new. But sometimes he catches me off guard, makes my eyes water, take a second to catch my breath. And then I see him take a breath. I know he feels immense pleasure when this happens but I strive to never cry in his presence.
Still, he lays out expensive clothes for me at the foot of the bed, for me to wear to breakfast in the morning. Tailored exactly for my body. When I come down, he has a smile on his face.
“Ah, my princess! La mia bella principessa!”
He’s in a good mood. We sit across from each other at the table. He chatters to his gloomy underlings, keeping an eye on me, insisting that I eat more.