Aria clenched her jaw, trying hard not to launch at one of these women as they pulled the door closed behind them. “You sent for us milord,” the tall blond said softly, her eyes fluttering just a little too much for Aria’s liking at the prince.
He nodded toward Aria. “I want her cleaned up.”
Aria bristled, her eyes narrowed as she turned her animosity on the prince. She was not a dog for Christ sake; she was perfectly capable of bathing and cleaning herself. She most certainly did not need the help of these “women.” The women’s eyes slid toward her, widening slightly as they fully noticed her presence amongst them. The blond eyed her with open disgust, the redhead seemed completely indifferent, but it was the pity in the small brunette’s eyes that truly angered and riled Aria. She did not need anyone’s pity, and she didn’t want it.
She turned away from them, unable to look at them any longer. They repulsed her even more than she repulsed them. “Of course,” the blond purred.
“I will have clothes sent up for her. You know where the bathroom is.”
Aria started, jumping back and tearing her arm away as someone touched her elbow. “Don’t touch me!” she snarled, feeling no remorse as the redhead shrank fearfully away from her.
The three women eyed her wearily, apparently trying to decide if she would be a danger to them, something that might actually be a possibility. “You will allow them to clean you,” the prince ordered.
“I can clean myself!” she snapped back.
The women gasped, shrinking farther away from her as she deliberately, and loudly, defied their leader. A fact that could result in her instant death. She didn’t care though, she was angry, she was frightened, and she was tired of being treated like something worse than an animal. She was completely trapped and at the mercy of the man standing across from her, staring at her as if she were something that he had never seen before. She supposed that he was not used to being defied, and she also supposed that such defiance often resulted in severe consequences, but she didn’t care anymore. Just an hour ago she had been wishing for death, now she found that she might truly be on the verge of it.
The prince took a step toward her, using his massive size to try and intimidate her. Aria clenched her jaw, she tilted her chin defiantly up as she glared at those thick glasses. She hated the fact that he was wearing them, she wanted to look him in the eyes, wanted to see what they looked like when she told him to screw off. He stepped closer to her, giving her no choice but to retreat if she did not want to be touched by him. And she most certainly did not want him touching her.
She retreated again as he pushed closer, nearly bending over top of her as he closed in on her. “Stop it!” Aria hated herself for crying out in protest, for letting him see just how much he did rattle her, but she could not stop the words as he backed her into a wall.
His hands slammed into the wall on either side of her head, causing her to jump in surprise. Her heart leapt and lurched wildly as for the first time she truly began to fear this creature. Until now she had not known what to make of him, or what he wanted with her. But one thing she now knew was that he did not take well to being defied, and she was a little afraid that he might just rip her heart out. Something she knew he could do without hesitation, without reservation, and before she could even blink.
“You will either allow them to do this, or I will do it.”
Aria’s eyes widened; she swallowed heavily at the terrifying thought of what he was saying to her. She had no doubt that he would drag her into the bathroom, strip her, and dump her into a tub of water. Unfortunately she did not respond to him as quickly as he apparently would have liked. He grabbed hold of her arm, practically dragging her from the room. Aria hurried to keep up with him, stumbling behind him as he pulled her rapidly forward.
He led her through another door; she caught a brief glimpse of books, a desk, and leather chairs before she was pulled into yet another room. This one left her stunned and gaping. There was some strange, rather large round white thing in the middle of the room. It was gleaming, bright in the lights reflecting off of it. There were golden handles and some sort of spigot coming from it.
He released her abruptly before striding across the room. He spun the handles, causing water to burst free. Aria gasped; her hand flew to her mouth as she stared at the thing in amazed wonder. What kind of wonderful, strange contraption was this?
The prince turned toward her, confusion marring his brow as he studied her. “Oh,” Aria breathed as steam began to rise from the water, alerting her to the miraculous fact that the water was hot. She had never seen this thing before, but she felt that she was going to thoroughly enjoy it as most of her baths were always cold. It was rare to have time to boil water to fill the wooden tub they had hidden within the caves. Most of the time she did not bother because of the time and effort it took, but every once in awhile she would treat herself to a warm bath.
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.