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“I’m afraid I don’t have any shoes your size. Once yours are cleaned, we will assess the damage, if necessary I will then see about making some of your size.
“Would it be possible to borrow clothes from another vampire?” I ask, disliking being surrounded by her distracting scent and clothed by her luxury. It was confusing and made each swishing step hard to cling to my hate.
“Absolutely not.” She said firmly, replacing the dresses she’d removed to their proper place before looking for her own gown.
“Why? Would it not be convenient to find someone closer to my size? Preferably with breeches and tunics instead of gowns?” I ask, trying to sound reasonable while not drawing attention to how poorly I’d laced the gown, or how much I disliked its limited movement.
“Regardless of convenience you are mine. You’ll either wear something of mine, and be allowed a limited sort of freedom, or you can wear nothing and be confined to my chamber. Either of those choices suit me.” What did she mean I was hers? Her prisoner? If not that, why didn’t she say that? Wait, did she say wear nothing?
“This is inhumane,” I responded, referencing the flustered confusion that idea inspired as well as the command she’d put me under.
“No. Murder is inhumane. Now, get on the bed.” She gestured to the purple canopy while she slipped on a silk gown embroidered with purple flowers over her shadows.
“What?” I panicked, the implications of sharing a bed too much for me to take in, even if it was large enough for four of us.
“I have business to attend to elsewhere and doubt it’s the type of business you’re amenable to witnessing.” She spoke so matter-of-factly I wondered if she meant torture, or murder.
She pulled me to her bed, the purple I admired previously now seeming to smack of poison. Rather than strangle me however she lashed the shadows to the post before patting my cheek. I pulled on them to no avail, there was only a few feet of slack so I could walk to the foot of the bed or roll across the entirety of the bed, no further.
“Maybe another time I’ll let you watch pet, but if you’re concerned about modesty, I doubt this is the type of entertainment you’d enjoy.” My heart stopped for a completely different reason. Of course, what had she said earlier? Her succubus nature needed more than blood. My cheeks flushed as she walked away slowly, her hips moving in a hypnotic rhythm. Unable to look away I was shocked when she turned back to face me at the door. I shot my gaze to the floor, hoping that was more natural than trying to meet her eyes.
“A Dreadling, or Nightmare Creature as you call them, will be sure to bring you some food and drink while I’m gone, I promise none of it’s poisoned so eat up. You’ll need it to replenish the blood you gave.” I looked up about to protest the idea of being left alone with one of those things but she was already out the door, turning the lock with a click.
Eight
The dreadling delivered the food quietly, making no move to approach my defensive crouch behind the bed, leaving the tray on the far side of the bed before leaving and locking the door. The food was simple but hearty and served without utensils. I alternated between tipping the food into my mouth and using the bread to scoop the meat into my mouth. The beef in the stew was especially filling, and I found myself using the last of the bread to wipe the bowl clean. It felt like heaven to be full again, and after placing the tray on the floor I laid down with a sigh.
I stayed motionless in her purple bed, enveloped in her Jasmine scent, I found myself incapable of sleep. My mind was unable to digest the events of the last week. How quickly I had gone from warrior princess of an entire kingdom to the prisoner of her mortal enemy… who had possibly saved her from a creature of myth? Should I be grateful? I was alive, fed, washed, clothed… and deemed hers, whatever that meant. I supposed if she wasn’t going to lock me up or torture me, perhaps I could get closer to her. I could pretend to play her games, let her feed, learn the layout of the castle, find the other humans, coordinate our escape, and make my final move. Falling into the planning felt like a game of chess where I could only see half the other players' pieces, but still I moved my own, wondering if there was a way that I’d be able to walk away from this unscathed.
The lock clicked open, hours later, and before I could decide how I felt personally about the entire thing. I wondered how much pleasure a succubus needed to survive, whether she’d gone to the giant or another succubus, or perhaps several at the same time. The Captain looked like he’d be loath to share, but then he did look like he’d die to please her.
“Do you need anything, pet?” She purred walking till she could lean against the bedpost. Her gown hugged every inch of her. My face turned red… again. I was not built for subterfuge, something my parents had seen early on. I’d happily thrown myself into combat. Simple, straightforward, killing. Even sleight of hand was more straightforward than facing and concealing the emotions that seemed to boil over when she was near.
“Don’t call me that.” I sat up, annoyed at my lack of sword and silver thorns.
“Oh? And what should I call you then?” She knelt on the bed with heavy eyelids. Was she still unsatisfied? The thought entered unbidden. Why did I care? I felt my annoyance turn to irrational rage and the first words that came to mind came spilling out.
“Slayer Rose, preferably, as you would have seen in your assault on my mind.”
“You’d like me to call you Slayer? In a keep full of vampires? Someone does have a death wish it would seem.” She raised her eyebrows at me before continuing, “As for the dreadling dives, you are free to stop our interrogations at any time by providing me with the information I require. Would you like to do so now?” At that she scooted closer to me eagerly.
“I can’t.” I puffed, still annoyed but flustered at the logic she had to remove my title.
“You can’t or you won’t?” she teased, as if this was just a game rather than my people, my life, and my entire purpose at stake.
“I can’t!” My frustration spiked again, stoked higher with the fear that I had no way of delaying or denying the dreadling assaults without putting myself at risk.
“Very well you can’t. Well, shall I simply call you Rose then?” she asked, deftly moving the conversation on, letting her eyes trace the rose she’d embroidered on my person.
I shook my head, the idea of being called Rose without my title or thorns felt… wrong.
I recalled her previous comparison of those thorns being a mere prick of nettles in comparison to her other enemies. Perhaps she wasn’t wrong, I’d been arrogant to think I could beat her with physical prowess alone. But while I didn’t roar or have claws that tore through a vampires flesh… I was going to succeed.
“You can call me Nettle,” I spoke decisively.
The corner of her lips tugged upwards as if she knew and was amused by the name.
“Nettle it is then. You may call me Mistress.”
