Wife II

Although Isabelle could very much sense the seriousness in his tone, she remained unwavering even under his cold icy eyes.

"I'm perfectly fine like this, I don't see any reason for a change of cloth..." She argued, her demeanor firm and unyielding.

Her rebellious character was something Icarus was slowly getting used to. This woman had barely spent twelve hours with him, but she acted as though she had known him her whole life, as though she knew he wouldn't force her to get sexual with him.

He was in no mood to argue with her anymore, it was already getting late, and he had duties to attend to in the morning. In a lazy tone he spoke to the stubborn princess, "Get off my bed, you're sleeping on the chair tonight."

Isabelle did not complain, she never planned on sharing a bed with him anyways. She had only settled on the bed because her princess instincts had kicked in over the period of time she was being attended to. Just for that brief moment, she had almost forgotten that she was a prisoner in this place, but his arrival had reminded her of that fact.

Slowly, she lifted herself from the comfort of the mattress and walked towards the long cushion. It wasn't too bad, aside from the size there was no difference between it and a bed.

Isabelle maintained eye contact with Icarus, watching his every step. The only times she kept her eyes away from him was when he got undressed to take a bath. And the same for when he finished in the bathroom and got dressed in his night clothes.

She laid still on the cushion, unable to close her eyes out of fear. Although he had no air of hostility around him, she still couldn't neglect the fact that he was a killer who wanted nothing but to exploit her. He did mention that he couldn't kill her yet, but only a fool would believe the words of the enemy.

Icarus turned to meet the eyes of his admirer still fixed on him. How on earth was he supposed to sleep when he could feel her pupils burning into the skin on his back. Was she waiting for him to fall asleep, so she could murder him in cold blood? It could be the case, perhaps sharing a room with her was not the best idea after all.

"Do you want something from me? Why do you keep staring?" He asked after five minutes of observation. Isabelle didn't reply, she merely turned her face around and stopped looking at him.

Satisfied that she had finally taken her eyes off him, Icarus walked towards the bed, but paused after something came to his mind. He turned towards his prisoner once more before announcing the news to her. "From tomorrow henceforth, you're going to pretend to be my bride."

Isabelle's shock was palpable. Her mouth fell open as if to speak, but words failed her. She had been living in a constant state of dread since her abduction, but this new development sent her heart pounding with fear and uncertainty.

This was not a happy surprise or a declaration of love. It was obvious Icarus had other motives, and she could feel the weight of his intentions pressing down on her.

Despite being crippled by shock, Isabelle managed to regain her composure and stared back at the man before her."What?" She demanded, but got no reply. In a fit of rage, she poured out her intentions regarding the matter with zero regards for Icarus's words. "I will not be a pawn in your twisted games. I will not pretend to be your bri—."

His cold, unyielding demeanor silenced the rest of her words, and her voice immediately failed to escape her lips. The small, sparsely furnished room seemed even more suffocating and the cold air of the night had suddenly become hot.

Icarus' lips curled into a menacing smile. "Oh, my dear, you misunderstand me. This is not a request. It's an order. From this night onward, you will pretend to be my bride." He repeated, this time fiercer than the first time.

Isabelle's heart raced with fear and anger, but she knew better than to openly challenge him. One wrong word from her and he might actually kill her, his aura alone made that abundantly clear. She clenched her jaw and fists, a silent display of her unwilling compliance.

"I'm glad we're beginning to understand each other better." Icarus said in a rather hushed tone before climbing the bed, his face alive with a mocking expression.

The room fell silent once again, and Isabelle returned to watching the man who lay motionless on the bed. The look in her eyes was not one of caution, but of anger and hatred. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to squeeze life out of him. But even in his sleep, she doubted if she was strong enough to accomplish that feat.

She rolled around in the cushion, finally turning away completely from him for the first time since he returned. She knew there was nothing she could do other than accept her fate. Any objection or resistance would be met with swift and severe consequences, and she was not built to endure torture or any severe punishment.

Although he kept his eyes closed and played asleep, Icarus kept his defenses up at all times. He had seen the look on her face and it was not a happy one. Although he didn't care for her feelings one bit, he was scared that she might actually try something if he really decides to sleep. He might be powerful, but he was nothing against the call of nature.

He had started the day rough and had wasted strength battling her father and his army. He hadn't had a shred of rest since then, and now his body was demanding the break it deserved. Slowly, not without trepidation, Icarus gave into nature's call while hoping that this wild princess would not kill him in his sleep.