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Xander answered the physician without so much as a glance at her.
    “She refused the first meal I offered. She did eat last night, at my feet. This morning, however, her appetite was wanting.”
    The physician turned to his pouch and fished out something that looked like an elongated egg flecked with green.
    “Since she’s not wanting to take much food, this is the best way to deliver medicine that will restore her appetite. There are also herbs in here to enrich her blood.”
    As the physician talked, he and Xander began to undo the restraints. Avin, still pondering how they expected her to swallow the large egg-shaped pill, realized the awful truth as they flipped her over. It was not a pill, but a bolus to be inserted into her bottom. Such treatments were not unknown to her, but she’d never been subject to one.
    “Please… no… you can’t mean to…” She couldn’t continue the sentence. Her hands and feet were bound once more before she could even think to fight her way free, and Xander lifted her hips as the physician placed a rolled coverlet beneath her. Her bare bottom was now hiked up, her thighs splayed. Her bottom hole, she knew, was as visible and accessible as her pussy.
    The king would, he announced, insert the medicine into her bottom. Avin buried her face in the bedclothes, trying to distance herself from the sensation of his finger pressing against her twitching bottom hole. The memory of the punishment she’d dreamt of the night before resurfaced, along with her shame and need. She felt the bolus, made of wax and fat and other ingredients, replace Xander’s finger. Avin tried to move her hips away, but could not. A hand slipped between her legs, steadying her with a palm that cradled her Venus mound. She could feel the bolus breach the tight ring of muscles, could feel her pussy pulsing at the familiar, forbidden sensation that evoked memories of taboo moments with the man she once loved.
    “It’s almost finished,” he said, and she felt his finger follow the bolus until both were buried in her bottom. “You were very good. Very good indeed.”
    The finger was withdrawn, and Xander stood and walked to the door. The physician followed him and Avin lay there, listening to their quiet voices. The bolus felt larger than it looked; she was aware of its presence, of the message he’d inserted along with the medicine: he could do as wished with her any time, at his leisure. He was the king. She was his slave, a thing to be used. Nothing more. She wanted to hate him, so why was her pussy all but dripping at the thought of her own helplessness to his power?
    When the physician had departed, Xander fetched a chemise, undid Avin’s bonds, and dressed her.
    “You are cruel,” she said.
    “I am not.” He sat down on the bed beside her. “And as you are in my care, your health is my responsibility.”
    “Oh, spare me your false concern,” she said bitterly. “If my health ever mattered to you, you would not have walled me up in my own castle. You would not have tempted my people with summer fruits, nor told them that the only way to end winter’s grip was to overthrow their queen and replace her with a king who would return spring to Windbourne.” She paused. “Your throne is built on a falsehood.”
    Xander stared down at her. Then he looked away and rubbed his jaw before looking back at her.
    She could see he was about to say something but instead, he stood.
    “Rest,” he said. “That’s an order. By this evening you will be moved to a chamber next to mine. Behave and you will be rewarded. Disobey and you will be punished. Severely.”
    Avin looked up at him, ready to offer a retort. But it died in her throat when she realized he was not meeting her gaze. Something was troubling her former lover, the king. But the man who would master her gave no indication as to what it was. A moment later, he was gone.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Cynric watched King Xander pace back and forth. There was