Chapter 9

    “ Just relax,” he said, his tone softening again, though it did nothing to ease my panic. “ You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

    I glared at him, refusing to give in, even as my body betrayed me. “ I’ll never relax around you.”

    He chuckled softly, a sound that sent another wave of fear through me. “ We’ll see about that,” he replied, reaching for the rope he had just pulled down.

    The tension between us was thick, neither of us willing to back down. After what felt like an eternity of staring each other down, a knock came from the door, breaking the standoff. The Barbarian’s gaze flicked to the door as he reached into his trousers, retrieving the key. He unlocked the door, and a young girl with fiery red hair entered, carrying a tray of food.

    “ Thank you, just place the food on the table,” he ordered, his voice curt. The girl obeyed, setting the tray down without a word. She gave a small bow before quickly exiting the room. The Barbarian locked the door again, the sound of the key turning echoing in the silent room.

    He walked over to the table, picked up the tray, and brought it to the bed, setting it down beside me. The scent of the food was tempting, but I was too wary to trust it.

    “ Eat,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

    I looked at the tray, then back at him, suspicion clear in my eyes. “ How do I know it isn’t poisoned?”

    His expression shifted, darkening as if my question had offended him. “ If I wanted to kill you, I would have left you in the dungeon,” he replied firmly, standing tall with his hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of authority that was hard to challenge.

    I held his gaze, trying to keep my voice steady. “ I’m not hungry.”

    His eyes narrowed slightly, and I could sense his patience wearing thin. “ Either you eat, little one, or I’ll feed you myself,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet threat.

    I knew he wasn’t bluffing. My stubbornness flared up again, but I was too drained to keep fighting him. With a sigh, I picked up a piece of bread from the tray and took a reluctant bite. He watched me closely, satisfaction evident in his eyes as I chewed.

    “ There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmured, almost as if speaking to a child. The condescension in his tone grated on my nerves, but I stayed silent, focusing on the food instead.

    As I continued to eat, my mind raced with thoughts of escape. But for now, I had to conserve my strength. One thing was clear—I had to find a way out of here, and soon.

    After I finished eating, the Barbarian removed the tray and placed it back on the table. I could feel his eyes on me as I wiped my mouth, trying to avoid his gaze.

    " Now, sleep," he ordered, his tone firm but not harsh. He turned away from me and walked over to a large couch opposite the bed. With a casual grace that seemed at odds with his size, he slumped down onto it, spreading his arms along the back of the couch as if he owned the place—which, I realized, he probably did.

    I stared at him, my mind racing. The idea of sleeping in the same room as him was unsettling. " Don’t you have your own sleeping chambers?” I asked, the unease clear in my voice.  He looked at me with a hint of amusement in his eyes.  

   “  This is my sleeping chambers,” he replied simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

    I frowned, my mind racing. “ And you expect me to sleep in here… with you?”

    His eyes held mine, steady and unyielding. “ I expect you to sleep. Whether you do that peacefully or with my help is up to you.” His words were calm, but there was an underlying edge to them that made it clear he wasn’t making an idle threat.

    I didn’t know what to say. The bed suddenly felt too large, too soft, and far too close to where he was sitting.   I hesitated, torn between my need for rest and the fear of being vulnerable around him.

    “ Sleep, little one,” he repeated, his voice softer this time, but no less commanding. “ I won’t harm you, not unless you give me a reason to.”

    There was something in his tone that almost made me believe him. Almost. But exhaustion was winning the battle over my instincts. I crawled under the covers, keeping a wary eye on him as I settled into the bed.

    He watched me for a moment longer before leaning back on the couch, closing his eyes as if this were a routine he was well accustomed to. I lay there, tense and alert, waiting for him to make a move, but he didn’t.

    Minutes passed, and his breathing slowed, deepening into the steady rhythm of sleep. I forced myself to relax, knowing that I needed rest if I was going to figure out a way out of this.

    But as I closed my eyes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Barbarian was still watching me, even in his dreams.

The next morning, I woke to the warm sunlight streaming through the glass doors of the balcony. I wanted to stay in bed a bit longer, but then I remembered the Barbarian. I jumped up, scanning the room—if you could even call it a room, since it was bigger than my whole house back at the farm.