Chapter 72 Seventy two

Chapter 72 Seventy two
I startled awake, unsure of where I was, my head throbbing as I moaned in pain, my body tense and weak. I fought hard to remember why I was in pain, knowing that it had something to do with the prince, he did something to me, I felt different. I wasn’t sure what exactly had changed, but I was certain that it couldn’t be good. He … He had taken some of my blood and replaced it with his own to help my arm heal quicker, but he had taken too much; more than he needed to for the transfer of strength. I turned to look down at my arm, the flesh still slightly swollen, but as I tested my fingers and bent it at the elbow, I realised that it was healed, that the bone and muscles had mended.

I stretched, wincing at the sharp pain in my head, suspecting that my body was scolding me for using up all my strength, I had overexerted myself and now I hurt. But that didn’t mean I could stay in bed until the pain was gone, after spending a night in the dungeon, I needed a bath; I needed to change and wash. I dread to think what I looked like in this moment, and I didn’t even what to know what I smelled like.

With a heavy sigh, I used one of the posts to my left as leverage to pull me towards the edge of the bed, standing painfully slow so that I could test the strength of my legs. I wasn’t sure how long I slept for, but it only felt like a few seconds ago that I closed my eyes. With another sigh I began to walk towards the bathroom that was attached to my gilded cage, pleased that I could have some privacy, though I was shocked to find a long-sleeved crimson dress and a towel laid across the sink. Though I wasn’t about to complain as I shrugged, shutting the door behind me.

I used the wall as my aid as I steadily walked towards the large bath, turning the hot tap as allowing the steam to fill the small room. I undressed as the bath began to fill up, sneaking a small glance at myself in the mirror. I was covered in my own blood as well as Silas’ the pale gown I was wearing caked in it, the elegant dress now utterly ruined; there would be no hope of getting it out now it had dried onto the material. No, the dress would have to be thrown away.

Shaking my head in frustration, I hoped that I wouldn’t be blamed for the ruined gown, if I had known the prince was going to drain blood from me, I would have prepared. Perhaps worn black. I slipped myself into the hot water, sighing in relief as it eased the agony in my aching body, the gentle smell of lavender bubble bath assaulting my senses, allowing me to relax.

I closed my eyes, trying not to think of Blanche, of what Elizabeth did to her body, did witches even get a funeral? Did they give my mother one? Or do they simply burn the corpse and leave it at that? Maybe that was why I couldn’t move on, I hadn't had the closure that other get, that I craved. I didn’t know why or how my people became enslaved to the vampires, but a tremendous amount of me wished that all witches and warlocks could be free, that we could choose the life we wanted, that we could choose whom we love and want to marry.

Though I guessed that wasn’t an option, the vampires would never let us go, whilst they were immortal and incredibly fast and strong, they had no magic of their own, that’s why they needed us. Why we will never be free, they used every one of us for their own personal gain, striking us down and killing entire bloodlines when we dared to disobey. To rebel.

I dunked my head under the water, allowing the alluring silky bubbles to block out most of the light, watching the water tremor above me before I had to resurface to breathe. Yawning heavily, I began the strenuous task of washing my hair and scrubbing the dirt and blood from my skin. I had to drain the water three times before I was completely clean, and the bath was back to its sparkling self.

I climbed from it, my legs unsteady, and I stumbled towards where the towel and dress lay across the sink, shivering at the sudden change in temperature. I dried my hair and body to the best of my ability whilst clinging onto the side of the sink, I side glanced the two small puncture wounds in the side of my neck, hoping that the crimson dress would conceal them, the brand on my collar bone red and angry. Reminding me that I couldn’t trust the prince ever again, I couldn’t allow myself to make the mistake of being comfortable in his presence. I was his slave and the brand only solidified that. My auburn locks were still damp as I slipped into the high-neck gown that covered my feet, curling my fingers around the long sleeves as I covered the back of my hands.

I folded the towel and placed it back onto the sink where I had found it, wondering for a moment if someone had organised it while I was asleep, I didn’t remember seeing the dress or the towel their when I was last in my chamber, but I couldn’t be sure, most of it was a blur. After quickly emptying my bladder, I decided that I couldn’t hide in here all day, I would have to face my fate sooner or later, and honestly; I was starving.

I walked back into the bedroom area, the fluffy carpet soft under my feet as I flexed my toes, humming happily at the feel of it.

“Miss?” Called an unfamiliar feminine voice, causing me to jump and slam back into the wall beside the bathroom, I hadn't heard another enter.

I glanced around, noticing that a plump middle-aged woman sat in the armchair beside my bed, her deep brown eyes sparkling in amusement as she watched me, her hair that was the same shade of her eyes scrapped back and clinging to her scalp in a tight bun. She had a tray of food in her hands, and I could see bacon, scrambled egg, one sausage and a single slice of toast. My stomach groaned hungrily as I watched her, wanting the take the tray and devour the breakfast, but unsure where it was for me.

“Hi.” I whispered, deciding to stay where I was.

“You may come forward child, I am not an undead, I am like you.” she murmured in the same soft tone, tilting her head as her eyes roamed over my small body, the dress covering each of my curves, making me look more like a plank of wood that a woman.

“Thank you.” I replied, keeping my tone low and I approached her and sat in an identical armchair, my hands placed neatly on my lap.