Magic?
No.
“The seamstress is here to prepare you for the king’s presentation of his soon to be promise,” Seven says on a grave tone.
Prepare me for the king. Oh, no.
And then I vomit all over the floor.
The splatter of it flicks across my calves, and I hold my stomach hard with the realization that the nervous energy I felt was most definitely not magic.
Everything settles with an uncomfortable silence, and I don’t want to look up. I’ll just remain staring at the mess rather than face anyone ever again.
“Ew,” Someone whispers.
Seven’s dark brows are lifted high, and he stands in stunned silence, his attention going from me to the puddle at my feet and then back again.
I wish I was the puke right now. I wish I was a puddle on the floor. Because everyone in the room is already looking at me like I am.
“It’s alright,” he tells me, and the sound of his voice alone could convince me... if I let it. He grabs a cloth from one of the women’s hands and lays it across the mess. It seeps into the barf rather disgustingly, and all I wish right now was that the king just ate me the moment I arrived here to avoid the embarrassment I feel right now. “Out of sight, out of mind...”
“Let’s take this to my room, shall we?” the young girl behind him proposes. “I’m Delilah.” She extends her slender hand, but when I wipe my palm on Rorrick’s white button-down shirt, she quickly pulls back her offering and just smiles tensely.
How is it that every single day of my life feels worse than the last?
I close my eyes slowly and take a deep breath.
Soon, I’m going to be given away. I’ll be Promised to a terrible, disgusting old man. And eventually, he’ll kill me.
Puking in front of strangers won’t matter then.
“We should have fed you. I’m so sorry.” Seven whispers. “Christian said humans eat often. I just didn’t know he meanteveryweek.”
Heels clack across the flooring toward the door. A steady hand slides into mine, and when I open my eyes, my lashes are damp. I swallow down all the flooding emotions and let Seven guide me out of the silent bedroom. We trail through the dimly lit halls, and it’s only when I hear voices that I take in my surroundings at all.
A door is up ahead, and distinct rumbling laughter calls out to me as we walk nearer. Through the open door, Rorrick stands with his back to me. A slender blonde pushes her palm across his bare chest. Scars etch over his arms and back. The broad span of his shoulders holds a tense line down the length of his spine, and I hate the sound of his rumbling amusement as she whispers something quietly to him.
My lips part, but then I see more. Christian’s steely eyes meet mine. Red bleeds into the pretty gray just like it does in Seven’s. He follows me, gaze heavy against my body... even as another woman slips into his lap. Her nails drag along his neck and down the hard lines of his bare chest. He grips her wrist, holding her at bay from pawing at him. But he doesn’t remove her from his lap.
And still, he watches me.
Until we pass by the open door entirely.
My stomach turns even more, but this time it has absolutely nothing to do with my own fate or hunger.
I feel stupid. So fucking stupid.
I’m a human girl. I’m nothing to these men. So they were nice to me when I was their fucking hostage? That doesn’t mean they care.
I have to get out of here. They’ve distracted me.
Not anymore. I’m leaving.Tonight.
I pull my hand away from the coziness of Seven’s. I feel his curious attention, but I can’t look at him.
We turn another sharp corner, and Delilah opens a door there for us. That tense smile is still in place for me when I pass her by. She’s sweet and I see that curious calmness in her soft features.
The seamstress wastes no time laying out her armful of heavy fabrics in greens and blacks and reds. The room here is similar to Christian’s. Four solid walls greet me inside. But the décor is much more alive than his. A beautiful shimmering black rug lies beneath the enormous bed frame. The tassels of the rug glint with threads of gold that match the plush blanket on the mattress. Sleek black pillows are piled up at the headboard that’s made up of many vines intertwined together to make points like a crown.
