Page 99 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

He shrugs. “Ask me nicely, and I might help you dispose of them.”

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

“You’re a sweetie.”

She leans over and plants a kiss on his cheek.

Beyond the desks, Jane remains upon the mat.

Nearby, the mayor finishes so quietly that I almost miss it. Eliza, who had been lying there dutifully staring at the ceiling, offers him a radiant smile as he withdraws and begins fastening his trousers.

“Are we still having dinner tonight?” she asks.

“Yes. I’ll send a carriage.” He checks his timepiece once more before looking at her. “You’ll wear a dress? The king may be in attendance.”

“Of course I’ll wear a dress, silly. You know I always do.”

He smiles faintly. “You always present yourself well.”

“Well, I know how important appearances are to you.”

“They are.” He offers her his hand and pulls her to her feet.

Eliza leans in to kiss him lightly upon the mouth.

He blinks in surprise. Then his expression softens, his gaze lingering as though seeing her properly at last.

“Good,” he says. “Very good.”

Professor Zott lurches to his feet and hurries forward to shake the mayor’s hand, thanking him profusely for taking the time to attend.

“Collared students so often miss out on the practical component,” he says. “It truly benefits Eliza to receive instruction from her Master.”

The mayor offers Zott a restrained smile. Then he is gone, leaving Eliza standing there staring after him, her fingers resting upon the diamonds at her throat, a dreamy smile warming her delicate face.

I cannot fit what I have just witnessed beside the story she told me in the window alcove.

Perhaps he truly is kind to her.

Perhaps this is what kindness looks like here.

The possibility leaves me feeling even more unsteady.

Jane is far slower to rise.

Felix has left her where she lies without ceremony—not even the barest show of affection the mayor offered Eliza. Her socks remain pulled perfectly straight beneath her knees. One shoe has slipped halfway from her heel. She sits up and pulls down her skirt with shaking hands, tears sliding into her mousy hair.

I do not know whether she wants me near her. Whether approaching will embarrass her further. Or if anything I do can possibly help. But I cannot leave her there.

I cross the room and kneel beside her.

“Jane—”

“Please don’t,” she whispers.

My hand stops before it reaches her. “He hurt you.”