And since I don't know how to answer that, I cloak myself in silence. Let Xerxes blow kisses on my skin. I would have thought my mind was racing. That when I see Xerxes again, a hurricane will take me. But that's not the case. Rather, an unusual calm seems to prevail in me. Very hesitantly he touches my nipple with a finger. Circle these and a little teasing seems to be enough to get my body to respond. My nipple stands up. Xerxes notices this too and he snorts in amusement while brushing his lips over my collarbone. "Why do you let me live?" It's no more than a breath, and yet Xerxes stops mid-movement. He immediately looks at me and frowns. Xerxes is probably surprised at why I'm asking that I'm delighted that I'm not dying today. And in a way, even I can't understand why I can't just let it be. But it's simple: I don't want to be ignorant anymore. I don't want to anymore look away and not understand what is happening in front of my nose. But the thoughtful expression disappears from Xerxe's face. Instead, amusement takes its place. "Since you overheard me and Platura, you should know." He's still brushing his fingers over my skin. Xerxes is tender. It's beautiful. Really beautiful. But the problem is, I can't accept it. There's this little voice inside me that tells me it's a lie. That I don't deserve to feel genuine affection. So I shake my head, but I don't even take my eyes off Xerxes. "Yes, but why should you risk treason for a little understanding?" It's almost interesting how easy it is for me to speak openly. I probably really do suffer from a death wish. I can't explain myself otherwise He sighs softly and looks at my chest again. It's obvious that he actually wants to do something other than answer me. And yet he does not follow his urge, but straightens up a bit. "Why not?" Not a twitch in the face betrays Xerxes feelings. Only the green eyes lose some of the veil. And that's enough to give me even more security. "Because..." Yeah, what? In fact, I can think of hundreds of reasons I could come up with. That trusting a stranger like that is foolish. That it's dangerous to ignore all the clues just because Xerxes got lucky for once But with all that explanation, I'd stake myself in the heart. How could I argue against myself? And so I swallow hard. But Xerxes seems to know what I'm thinking. A knowing smile spreads to his lips and he shrugs, "Kalota, sometimes risks should be taken to gain something." I skilfully ignore what is meant by the something I mean. At least I'm trying. But it doesn't quite work that well. After all, Xerxes is saying I could be an asset. That's something no one has said to me before. I've been a burden, a burden, and a sin, but never a good thing. "And how do you know when the risk is worth it?" This question does not come from anywhere. After all, I also have a risk in my life. Zaret. How far I allow my feelings to him. Whether I really give him this power over me should. Xerxes takes a deep breath and rubs his face. He seems really thinking about the answer. That's a good sign. It shows that he takes me seriously. "I just know." He grimaces slightly apologetically and shrugs helplessly. And while that's not an answer that will help me, it's the best answer he could have given me. Because it is the truth. No beating around. No dodging. Xerxes just admits that he has no plan. That he's a human being with flaws. And that's really nice. *** A SMALL WARNING. THIS CHAPTER HAS A LOT. HOWEVER, I NEED IT SO THAT XERXES MAY BE UNDERSTOOD BETTER. I WILL MARK WITH (AND ITS BEGINNING AND END) WHERE MIGHT BE READ OVER. "I think you know the stories about my father?" Yes, many. Although I was too young to really understand how feared this man was. He is said to have been a cruel person many torture devices for the first time in our area, but that doesn't even surprise me that it has something to do with Xerxe's anger, so I nod slightly. "A few, yes." Uncertainty still resonates in my voice. After all, I shouldn't forget who he is and, above all, what I am. I'm the prostitute. He's the customer. I should keep that in mind It just doesn't feel like it right now Xerxes makes me feel like we're equals It's a beautiful yet incredibly dangerous feeling. Xerxes also seems to notice my prevailing dilemma. He gasps and shakes his head in amusement. Slowly rub your hand over my stomach. "Don't be afraid, Kalota." He gives me an encouraging smile and takes a deep breath. Leans a little closer to me and I can't help but believe what he's saying. I want to believe Xerxes Fear takes away, the feeling of being just a puppet of life, if only for a damn second. "I won't hurt you today," he murmurs, looking at me intently. It's clear that Xerxes wants to make sure I'm not smothered in my own feelings during this conversation. So I nod tentatively, maintaining his eye contact "Okay." For a moment, Xerxes seems to be considering whether I'm serious. But seems to decide that my one word is enough for him. He looks me over with a sigh before regaining some distance from me. "My father wrote a lot of scary stories." The voice is lowered. Seems almost dangerous and yet Xerxes manages to give me security with his eyes. Very slowly he brushes between my legs. Over my labia. But it doesn't seem like he would touch me there because he's aroused. More like it seems to have some sort of calming effect on him. His gaze keeps wandering to his hand and watching the fingers draw circles across my skin. "You know, his cruelty didn't stop at home either." Xerxes laughs again, but this time the sound doesn't seem cheerful. Rather condescending. Soaked in hate. "Except for me." And that makes me furrow my eyebrows. In fact, I would have thought Xerxes was beaten by his father. Maybe tortured too. That Xerxes had to put up with all these things that he now uses on others. "It was important to him that I become like him. After all, I was heir to the throne." The word heir to the throne is practically spat out by Xerxes. As if it were an insult. And maybe it is? I have no idea what burdens Xerxes had to carry during his childhood. Sure, he had enough food and Drinking. I guess I never had to freeze or worry about not surviving the winter. But I don't know what problems there are in the position of prince. “It was important to my father that I see people the way he does. As a lowly rabble, who should be glad to be able to breathe the same air as him." Xerxe's hands are still hovering over my skin. He strokes the bruises gently, applying a little more pressure to the areas that aren't marked are embossed. “He didn't make a distinction between rich and poor. Everyone was equally despicable to him." It's almost interesting that his voice sounds so monotonous. As if he's telling me a story that doesn't concern him. But that's not the case. This is Xerxe's life. So I just nod slightly I want to make him understand without a word that I can follow his words. “Only women were deeper in the food chain for him. If he could have, I think he would have tied everyone in one stall." Again, this is nothing new to me. A lot of people see women as something weak. Something just for fun and reproduction. That attitude isn't unique to ours Zeit." And that was particularly important to him. He didn't want me to fall under the spell of femininity." Xerxes laughs again and shakes his head. And this time he seems genuinely amused to remember it. "He always told me to always see the truth of a woman. That they're only there to be used." It all makes sense up to this point. I don't see why that would be interesting though. After all, that's not a reason for his behavior. I'd like to ask why he's telling me this, but I want Xerxes Don't interrupt. So I keep quiet and just look at him unperturbed. I notice the veil thickening a little in front of the green and I almost think I see something like sadness. "Did you know that I had a sister?" And this sentence makes me falter. A sister? I immediately rummage through my memories and want to find out whether a female name was mentioned in addition to Xerxes or his father's name, but nothing. The doorbell rings nothing on me. So I shake my head slightly. "No." A foreboding spreads through me and Xerxe's wistful smile makes it stronger. It's obvious that something must have happened to her. "She hasn't gotten old either." And now Xerxes breaks eye contact and looks at a spot behind me. Seems to lose himself briefly in memory. "She was my angel. An angel with black hair and dark brown eyes. So carefree. Just the way a kid should be." The smile on his lips widens even more and it looks real. Real and yet wrong. It carries both joy and sadness. Warmth and an irrepressible cold. "She always saw the good in people and was therefore the exact opposite of my father." And if there was something like cordiality in Xerxe's facial features, they disappear from one second to the next. "When I was five years old, my father started wanting to mold me." And now Xerxes looks at me again. But the veil remains in front of the bright green. Doesn't lift and it makes me chill. Still, I know that this veil is not for me, that Xerxes only puts on the mask to distance himself from what he is telling me. "He took me to the torture chamber. Showed me what people look like on the inside and how they sound when they realize they're dying." Xerxe's mouth pulls down slightly, showing that the memory still inspires disgust. "For a child, these are Hard to process pictures and it's only thanks to my sister that I didn't go insane." He pauses and looks at his hand again. How the finger wanders over my nipple, only to slide lower again. “My sister was just a baby then. She didn't realize what was tormenting me and that's how she gave me support. She gave me the strength not to become dull inside." Now I know the burden a prince must carry. At least part of it. That he has to carry on his father's burdens. Whether wanted or not. "But what she couldn't prevent was that I felt more and more angry." Xerxes snorts disgustedly from his nose, making it more than clear that this anger has remained to this day. "I heard people screaming. Always. Whether it was real or not, I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. They were everywhere." I nod slightly and hold my breath. It happens more subconsciously, but I don't want to overhear a word. This is too important for that. It doesn't matter that Xerxes still seems too neutral for what is said. "The problem was that I didn't hate the people around me, only my father. To the only person I couldn't take out my aggression on." An indefinable sound leaves his mouth and Xerxes stops. I don't even have to look at him to see that he's still struggling with it. It shows his full presence. That this one gets a little engaging. A little more of the dark wins. "And so something was brewing inside me. I was so angry, Kalota." He's still looking at me. Wrinkles his eyebrows slightly and seems to be thinking about what else he wants to say. "But I fought. I wanted to be strong for my sister. Allow her the carefree life that was denied to me." As Xerxes continues, I try to remember how his father died. I mean, it was an illness, but I can't say for sure. I was too young to remember the news for that. Especially since I had problems of my own. That must have been the time when my mother never got out of bed. “And then came my twelfth birthday. The age when my father decided I had to be a man." As Xerxes talks, I shake my head slightly. I shouldn't delve into my past. Right now, Xerxes' Experience is what should get my full attention . "My father woke me up in the middle of the night and took me to his and my mother's marital room." So far it doesn't sound spectacular to me. After all, they might have prepared a surprise. However, Xerxe's voice loses its monotony slight shaking can be heard. “He tied me to a chair and raped my mother. i should see it His words were that I should now learn what a woman is good for." I swallow hard and do everything I can to ensure that my facial features don't escape me completely. However, Xerxe's encouraging smile shows that I probably didn't succeed in this project. But instead of that "It wasn't really anything new to me. My father raped all the women in our castle. Their screams always echoed through the corridors at night." Xerxes shrugs like it's not worth mentioning. But that's not true. Not at all. "I didn't hear my mother's cries for help for the first time that evening either. The only thing that was new was that I could see the blood between her legs. That I saw her tears." Xerxes smiles at me and gently strokes my cheek. It almost seems as if he wants to comfort me. I should do that to him. Right? To be honest, I don't know which is the most suitable reaction. But I'm starting to understand how Xerxes can treat me like this. How could someone who has never been around anything but brutality ever understand that there is another way? "And when my father was done with my mother, he just pushed her off the bed." Xerxes nods slightly. It seems like he's trying to confirm to himself that what he's saying is true. getting the memories together right, that it's like me with the iron maiden, what happened is against a veil that can hardly be penetrated. "She lay on the floor in a heap and only her sobs showed that she was still alive." Xerxes grimaces in disgust and I? I remember my rape. I can remember that I too was just lying on the wooden floor and I wished I could die. So what must it be like when something like this keeps repeating itself? When your husband keeps giving you this nightmare and there's no escape? And so I don't have to ask myself how Xerxe's mother died .I know it without any confirmation. "But my father didn't care what he did to my mother. He didn't care that I was crying too. He unseated me from the chair and said that now is my time to be a man." And with that, Xerxes' mask slips. There is pain. Really, an abysmal pain. "He dragged me into my sister's room and that was the last night I saw her small torso heave slightly with her breathing." His voice lowers. Losing strength, Xerxes almost seems fragile. That that I never would have thought it possible. But I cannot feel pity. What has been said has too much power for that. Too cruel a content. "Did you rape her?" It's not more than a breath, but Xerxes understands me. He immediately shakes his head. "No, I refused. My father did it," he pauses again, seeming for the right words to search. As if he was having more and more trouble recapitulating what had happened. "But it was too big for her. Way too rough." - BEGINNING Xerxes is still looking at me and yet he doesn't seem to see me. It seems as if he is looking right through me and sees something behind me that can hardly be surpassed in terms of brutality. "She screamed." He swallows hard and at that moment I know that Xerxes is looking at his sister again. But not the little girl who is carefree, but the girl who must have suffered unspeakable torment. "And I with her. That evening it wasn't women's cries for help that echoed through the empty corridors, but two children's." Xerxe's veil lifts from his eyes. He probably doesn't realize it, but right now he's letting me see inside. Show me his own hell. The hell his father created. "I just looked into her eyes. I wanted to give her strength and my father laughed at me. He called me a weakling. While he kept raping my sister, he made fun of me. Taunted me." The words of Xerxes are silent. Too quiet. I barely understand him and it seems as if he is no longer aware of my presence. Why aren't there tears in his eyes? Shouldn't he be crying by now? Mourn his sister? "She looked at me. Gave up and said goodbye in the only way we had left." And with that I realize that Xerxes isn't crying because he can't. Just why that is so, eludes me. Is it disgust that prevents him? That too many tears have already flowed because of it? "Hate took control of me. And when she breathed her last, I became a reflection of my father." I have to bend over to hear the last part of the sentence and want to hug Xerxes. Tell him everything will be fine. But that's not true. How could I tell such a lie? So I keep shrouding myself in silence. "When my little sister died, my inner monster was born." He swallows hard and the sadness in the bright green grows bigger by the second. END "My father stole my last reason to be a good person," he whispers, and I can finally break my rigidity. Without thinking about it, I stroke his cheek. Move a little closer to Xerxes. "You got that done right." As I speak, Xerxes flinches. Suddenly he seems to notice me again. As if I had catapulted him from the past back into the here and now. Still, he needs some time to answer me. "No I haven't. If I had done what my father asked, she would still be alive." I actually didn't consider this fact. Xerxes is right. Or? Maybe his father would still have raped her and killed her. It could be. But Xerxes has probably already thought about it. And as if he heard my thoughts, he goes on: “I didn't realize then that there was actually no longer any hope for me. But she would have had one." The pain in the green grows. It almost seems as if it is spreading to me. Making me feel what Xerxes is feeling. "She would have hated me, but she would have lived," he adds quietly, and now the sadness resonates in his voice. For the first time I hear someone speak who is plagued only by unspeakable remorse and who also admits it. A quality , which is rarely encountered. "So you regret the decision you made then?" The words come out easier than they should. I'm about to ask Xerxes if he regrets not raping his sister. That should shock me. But it doesn't Probably because I haven't properly processed what I've just experienced. Xerxes leans forward a little more. Really fixes me and seems to want to make sure I'm actually hearing what he has to say. "With every damn breath."