I stood there and watched as this purely gorgeous man approached me, his steps slow and measured. At first, he had appeared impossibly tall, his height towering over me like the walls of the actual room itself. But as he took each step closer, something odd happened—he fell a little, so that I would not have to draw my head back so far. I was shaking, sweating in the palms of my hands as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
Venetia ducked her head, clearly showing deference. She didn't even try to glance at him, and I found myself wondering—is he a prince or something?
And then he said something in silky rich tones, "How are you, love?"
My mouth fell open and I blinked in surprise. Wait… who is he talking to? He must be confusing me with someone else.
Against my better judgment, my heart skipped a beat. I then berated myself. Yes, he was handsome, but this was the last thing I should be doing right now. I had to go and search for my friend Amelia, who was somewhere within the outside world.
"I'm not okay, sir… Mr." My voice faltered, trembling and disjointed as I belatedly realized I had no idea what his name was, let alone how to address him.
He smiled weakly. "My name's Derek." His voice softened, though strings of worry lingered. "Why? What is it? Why aren't you okay?"
Tears I had tried to keep at bay streamed down my face. "I have to return… to help my friend." I shook with fear, and I sniffed freely involuntarily.
For a moment, he glared, as if he didn't understand why I was crying over someone else. But then he approached me, and with a surprisingly gentle move, he wiped the tears from my eyes with his thumb.
"There now," he took a deep breath, as if insulted by my own misery. "Who is this friend of yours?"
"Amelia," I struggled to speak, hoping he'd comprehend. "We were in the room they punish you in. before I passed out and woke up here."
Derek raised an eyebrow, his black eyebrows shooting upwards. "And what exactly do you plan to do to save her, love?" His tone wasn't unkind, but it hurt. Was he ridiculing me? Did he really think I was capable of nothing?
I so much wanted to beg him for assistance, but pride prevented me, so speaking out was a challenge. So headstrong, I stuck out my chin. "I'll be fine," I maintained, although I did not know, I had no energy, and no idea where to begin.
There was something in his eyes, a glint, but I couldn't quite discern what it was. Finally, Derek nodded, but I wasn't sure if he was being courteous or if something was wrong. My gut turned over. What if I was swapping one captivity for another? Would I be held captive here too?
His eyes scanned me, and I blushed, knowing why. I looked down at myself in shame. I was still wearing my frayed slave garments—or what remained of them.
My frayed rags failed even to tuck around my body, a sloppy piece of clothing, held together with twine, resembling some semblance of a skirt too short for modesty. A thin strip of fabric curled around my waist, covering my breasts but leaving my stomach, ribs, and shoulders bare. I was supposed to be petite, gaunt, and dirty.
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to cover myself, but it was a losing battle. The mortification washed over me.
Derek's expression darkened, and he shot a sharp look at Venetia. "Why isn't she dressed yet?" His voice turned icy, almost menacing.
Venetia trembled, nearly collapsing to her knees. "I–I'm s-s-sorry, young master," she stammered, her fear making it hard to understand her words.
Derek raised a hand, quieting her immediately. "Enough. Bathe her, dress her, and meet me outside." Then he turned back to me, his voice softening. "I'll be waiting," he said, brushing his fingers briefly against my cheek before striding out. The heavy door slammed shut behind him.
I stood there, my cheeks flushed with shock at his unexpected touch. His hand was comforting, almost protective, but I caught myself instantly. I couldn't afford any distractions. Amelia was still missing.
Venetia's calming voice filtered through my stunned brain. "Please come this way, Miss Aria."
"Wait," I shouted, eyes squinting. "Is that the master you mentioned before? The one who got you here?"
"Yes, Miss Aria. That's Young Master Derek… the third prince of Naal City."
I gasped. "Prince??"
"Yes, Miss Aria," Venetia reassured me softly.
"So why call him Master Derek and not Prince Derek?" I asked, still struggling to keep pace with this crazy world.
"Because Master Derek doesn't want anyone to call him Prince Derek… not even his own relatives," she clarified, already leading me down a very long corridor.
We arrived at a stunning bathroom that took my breath away. Shimmering walls of finished stone and gold hieroglyphs glinted in candle light. Soaring pillars draped in patterns finely carved rose up to the ceiling, which glowed softly with twinkling star lights. In the middle, there stood a ginormous sunken bathtub, holding ten people, with a gold edging and lotuses carved into its surface. Bronze braziers wafted the scent of myrrh through the air.
It reminded me of the extravagant images I'd once seen of Egyptian palaces—ornate, intimidating, almost divine.
Venetia turned the handles on a lion-head spout, warm water rushing into the tub as steam spiraled up. Once the tub was full, she turned to me.
"Please take off your clothes, Milady."
I froze. "What? Do you… want to bathe me?"
"Yes, Milady," she replied without a moment's hesitation.
My face colored. "No, thank you. I will wash myself."
Venetia looked at the door, then at me. "Milady, if Master Derek were to find out that I didn't wash you. I am finished." Fear crept into her voice.
My heart ached at her fear—not of me, but of him. "Don't fret. He'll never suspect a thing. Wait outside for me."
Venetia stopped, then bowed her head. "The towel is on the other side of the door. If you need anything, summon me. I'll be just outside." She vanished, closing the groaning door behind her.
I was alone, and I unwound the rags and let them slap onto the floor. I was exposed, but in some strange way, glad to be rid of slavery's grime.
As I entered into the warm water, a sigh was let out. "Oh, God… this is wonderful." The heat seeped into my sore muscles, chases off the chill which had lingered with me since the punishment room.
I washed myself clean, watching the dirt come away. I labored meticulously over my hair, washing gently until it smelled of jasmine oil dissolved in water. Clean and with a towel around my waist, I was beginning to feel more human.
I called Venetia, and she returned at once. She took me into a dressing room, which was illuminated by gold lamps all around. The walls were adorned with silk cloths and gems. She handed me a pair that comprised two loose white and gold pieces of material.
The corset was a tight golden top jewelled around the edges, baring my shoulders, and the skirt descended high-cut on the sides, revealing my legs as I walked. Golden chains dropped low around my waist, and the same bracelets jingled gently as Venetia fastened them around me.
I held my breath as I looked at myself in the mirror. The costume fit me like it had been made just for me.
But then I sneezed, and a shiver ran down my spine. "It's cold here," I complained, wrapping my arms around myself.
Venetia smiled kindly. "You'll get used to it, Milady."
She sat me down and began to cut my hair. I winced at the snipping of the scissors. "What are you doing?"
"I would like to braid your hair, Milady. It's the custom here."
Culture? I frowned but she continued. She hacked bangs straight across my forehead, braided my hair into neat strands down each side of my head, adorning them with gold pins and jewels so that I was as fashionably dressed as the temple murals' princesses. Gold chains flashed across my forehead, bejewelled bangles encircled my arms, and a collar set with gems against my throat.
When she finished, I hardly knew myself.
We left the room and entered a broad corridor. My sandals clicked on the gleaming marble as I peppered Venetia with questions, but she answered brusquely, her apprehension evident.
Along a corridor of considerable length, half-way, there came a figure. I gasped hard. A giantess.
She was gigantic, at least twice Derek's height, with radiating grey skin. Her pearl-beaded braided hair streamed behind her as she approached him. Blue eyes blazed with power, as did Derek's.
"Princess Astrid," Venetia breathed hastily. "She is the only daughter of the dynasty."
Astrid swept by, head held high, oozing confidence. Venetia and I bobbed low curtsies, my heart pounding. We brushed her hips. I felt tiny compared to anyone else ever.
The moment the princess was away from our listening ears, I asked in a whisper, "Where are the other princes?"
"Prince Liam and Prince Augus are hunting," Venetia responded in a whisper.
And finally we emerged from the castle into the fresh air. Derek stood waiting at the gates, conversing with another man—a tall, thin man with ash-grey hair that reached to his shoulders and grey eyes that pierced.
When we walked up, Derek swung around. His eyes brushed mine, traveling from head to feet and taking exactly a fraction of a second longer than it should have. I watched in wonder as my face grew warm until Derek's friend elbowed him. Derek blinked and grinned thereafter, the gentleness in his smile clearing the flush from my face. "Hi, love." He held out his hand.
I stood in front of him, my arms folded at my sides. I did not reach out to shake hands. I just stared. Why is he looking at me like that?
But I couldn't help but observe that he was gorgeous close-up. His blue eyes were piercingly bright, his face unyielding and elegant, and his black hair contained silver stripes like moonlight on darkness. He was a prince of princes.
"This is my friend, Magnus Hayes," Derek said.
Magnus bowed his head respectfully, and I nodded back. It was odd—almost disconcerting—to be treated with such deference by a male.
"I'll take you to your friend," he interrupted before I could get out a word. "I won't let you go by yourself."
Relief swept over me, only to vanish when he continued, "But first, there's something you ought to know about me."
I scowled, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean—"
I couldn't get the words out before Derek's body began to change. Bones cracked as his body twisted, skin rippling as fur erupted. In a split second, a massive grey wolf stood before me, icy blue eyes glinting.
I stepped back, heart racing.
And then, in an instant, the wolf form dissipated. His body distorted again, but differently—wrongly. His ears elongated into pointed tips. Enormous wings of dark hue bulged from his shoulder blades, spreading wide, feathers rippling like black glass in the sun. His body lengthened so he towered over Astrid.
I was rooted, backing away, knees barely still beneath me. I screamed in terror.
What faced me was neither man nor wolf. It was something other. Something grotesque. Something holy.
And it was staring back at me.