She steps back to admire her handiwork. I’m squirming before her scrutiny. I’m wearing a lot of clothes. Layers of them. Nearly every inch of me is covered. My face and hands are the only parts of me that are bare, yet I’ve never felt more … sexy? Alluring? I can’t find the right word for it. But it feels strange. I want to preen, and to hide.
I wish there was a mirror. Or actually, perhaps I should be thankful there isn’t one. I can feel how these clothes cinch in at the waist and flow over my ass. I can feel the soft silk caressing my skin. These clothes feel erotic. I don’t need to see it.
The complete and utter lack of underwear has to be contributing to my uneasy feeling, but since there is sod all I can do about it, it’s probably best not to think about it.
“You’ll do,” says the woman.
She turns on her heels and I fall meekly into step behind her, without the two men having to grab me.
They didn’t give me any shoes, but the carpet is decadently soft under my naked feet. It feels strange to be barefoot when not at home, but it is far from the worst thing that has happened to me today.
I’m led to the poshest sitting room I have ever seen. It’s all green and gold. Every surface is ornate. Even the wooden parts of the huge chairs, and what I think is called a chaise lounge.
“When you see the prince you must curtsey, like this,” she says as she flows down in a graceful movement I will never be able to copy.
“I thought men bowed?” I ask.
Her nose wrinkles. “You are not a man, you are a pet. Now curtsey!”
I’m not a man? I’m pretty sure that I am. And what the hell is a pet? Surely something is being lost in translation here. The prince called me a pet before dragging me away from work, but the word can’t mean what they think it means? Can it? I mean, it’s quite clear they think all humans are lesser beings, but as far as I know, they aren’t going around calling everyone pet.
The scary fey woman gives me an impatient glare. My frantic thoughts are going to have to wait.
Stumbling, I try to emulate the graceful movement she showed me. She laughs. A musical peel of mockery and disdain. I try again. And again.
Eventually she sighs. “That will have to do. For now.”
She shoves me through a door that is covered in the same flocked wallpaper as the walls and suddenly I’m in a huge bedroom. The dark carpet is plush under my bare toes. The fourposter bed is enormous and draped in dark green velvet and laid with rich brown furs.
She walks back out with my two silent escorts, and suddenly I’m all alone. Now is the time to think of an escape plan.
A hidden door on the far end of the bedchamber opens and the prince walks in. So much for escaping. He strides right up to me, stopping a mere two steps in front of me.
He is frigging tall. I have to tilt my head up to look at him. He is making the very air around him zing. It feels like a summer afternoon after a storm, when lightning has struck close by. My feet feel more firmly attached to the floor, as if the mass of his presence is so immense it is weighting down gravity.
He tilts his head slightly and assesses me calmly. Intensely. As if he is looking through my skin and critiquing the colours of my soul.
He is terrifying and magnificent. Like an imploding star. And I still have no idea what he wants with me.
Oh shit! I’m supposed to do that whole curtsying thing!
I pick up the soft silk of my clothes in my clammy hands and try to sink gratefully down. Damn it! I think that was my worst ever attempt.
I straighten and look back up at him. Not one muscle in his face has moved. I have no idea what he thinks of mydismal curtsy attempt. Is he enraged? Amused? Am I in trouble?
My heart is beating frantically against my ribs. I feel lightheaded. Oh gosh, fainting is the last thing I need.
“I expect obedience,” he says, and his deep voice makes me shiver. “Utter and unflinching.”
I stare helplessly up into his strange eyes. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could move a muscle.
The weird duality of hearing his foreign words yet also understanding them is fading. My mind must be adjusting. Or the magic is taking hold.
“The duties of a pet are simple enough. Do as you are told. Sit by my side. Cause no trouble.”
He is making it sound too easy. I’m not dumb. I’ve been shying away from it, but it’s quite clear. I’m wearing strangely slutty clothes. I’m standing mere feet away from his massive bed. He is calling me a pet.
My hand rises shakily and points over his shoulder at the monstrous bed. “And do other stuff?”
