Captured (The Captive #1)(9)
The prince was studying her, the perplexity on his face more than a little disconcerting. She could not meet his gaze as an unexpected wave of shame washed through her. He was studying her like that because he knew that she had so very little, and knew so very little of the world outside of caves and woods and streams, hunting and death that made up her life. And now, he fully realized this, and pitied her for it.
Yet, as she looked back at him she did not see pity on his face. Instead, she saw an understanding that left her rattled and unsure. She could not grasp this strange creature in front of her, but it seemed that they were even as he did not seem to understand her either. “Allow them to do this,” he said gruffly.
Aria swallowed heavily, unable to find words for him. She simply nodded mutely before he left the room.
CHAPTER 3
Aria shifted uncomfortably as she tugged at the collar of the sweater she wore. It was the softest material she had ever experienced, it felt wonderful against her skin, but she could not get used to it. Her clothes were always rough, ragged, and nowhere near as warm as this gentle cloth. She tugged at the scooped collar again, unnerved and frightened by how much of her skin it exposed. Even in the summer she wore long sleeves and collars to avoid bug bites, scratches, and other hazards amongst the woods, and within the caves.
But the sweater was not as bad as the skirt they had put her in. It fell to just above her knees in gentle black waves that swayed and flowed as she walked. She could not get used to the feel of it, or to having her legs exposed like this. She even slept fully clothed, just in case there was a raid; she always needed to be quick on her feet and moving swiftly. Wearing this though, she would not be able to move fast, and would almost surely be caught as the sweater was a bright red homing beacon to her location. They had scrubbed her clean, had even removed the hair from her legs with a razor, but they could not take away the bruises and scratches that marred her skin. She looked ridiculous in the skirt, with her battered lower limbs and knobby knees, but it was the clothes that had been brought to her.
The women fluttered around her, brushing her hair out as they talked softly. They had not said another word to her, nor had she spoken to them for the past few hours. They exchanged gossip, talked of men they liked, and spoke in whispered reverence of the prince. From all of their excited chatter, Aria learned that the blond fancied herself amongst one of the prince’s favorites and often spent time with him here, in his apartment.
Aria tried not to think about the discomfort and confusion that revelation caused her. She should be relieved the prince had other women to keep his attention; maybe he would simply just want blood from her, and nothing more. The thought was repulsive enough, but until she could escape, she felt that she might be able to bear it. Aria winced; flinching away as the blond, Lauren, brushed her hair just a little too roughly nearly tearing it out at the roots. Aria glowered at her, but the woman hardly noticed as she continued her assault on Aria’s hair.
“When was the last time you brushed this mess?” Lauren muttered.
Aria clenched her jaw and her hands, refusing to answer the vapid woman. The brunette, Maggie, gave Aria a sympathetic glance as she finished applying some kind of strange color to Aria’s nails. She stared at them in confusion, not understanding why anyone would want to do that to their nails, but apparently it was popular as all three of the girls had it on. Julia, the redhead, brought forth a pair of shoes that Aria was certain had been designed to kill her. Who walked on such a long and pointy shoe anyway? Whose ankles could take those things?
Aria remained unmoving as they applied their final touches and stepped back to examine her more closely. Aria’s gaze slid away from them, hating the sight of the bite marks that marred their necks and inner wrists. It was apparent that they willingly, and apparently from the way they were talking, eagerly gave their blood away. She wondered if it was just the prince that they gave it to as they appeared very much at ease in his place, and seemed to know where everything was located, or if they gave it away to any vampire that asked.
“Why do you think he choose her?” Julia inquired, tilting her head to study Aria more intently.
“I don’t know; she’s most certainly not anything to look at. The prince must have decided that it would be good to have a blood slave available to him whenever he was hungry,” Lauren replied. “Though we’re always available.”
Julia giggled, her eyes sparkling brightly as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Yes, we are.”
Aria managed to keep her face impassive, she wanted to smack the insipid women, but she forced herself not to react to any of their vindictive words. Though Aria felt that she was no competition for the voluptuous women, it was more than apparent that Lauren felt threatened by her for some reason. Aria was not going to reassure her that she did not have to fear Aria’s competition; she wanted nothing to do with this place.
“Bony little thing,” Lauren muttered.
Aria rolled her eyes, biting back her sharp retort. Julia knelt before her, thrusting the tortuous shoes onto Aria’s feet. She winced as her foot was twisted and crammed into the awful, painful things. When Julia was done, she grasped hold of Aria’s arms and pulled her to her feet. Aria cringed, hating the uncomfortable things strapped to her. She stood, wobbling and uncertain, and trying hard not to grimace in pain.
“You will get used to them,” Maggie said softly, patting her arm reassuringly. Julia and Lauren rolled their eyes, but decided to keep their snarky comments to themselves this time. “The prince is waiting.”