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And it’s one I don’t intend to repeat, even though it’s far too late for me. I’m already ensnared and there’s only so much I can do about it. I see these demons now for what they are, and I just need to remember it.
Several more elves swarm behind us. My heart has been thumping steadily, a drum beat in my ears. But at this, it pounds wildly. It feels as though I am being ganged up on, overwhelmed and soon to be overtaken by their thorough attention.
They wouldn’t hurt me now, would they?
He is their master, and they must do as he says, right? His direction was to clean me. Unless… a horrid thought breaks through the cacophony in my brain.
Do demons eat humans? He doesn’t mean to clean me like- like food…
Does he?
I blanche, suddenly feeling faint at the idea. My skin goes clammy, and my throat starts to tighten. I can barely breathe over the waves of panic washing over me.
We reach a room, and they push me through the doors, tearing off my clothes before the lock clicks into place behind us. Hot tears spring to my eyes, the only sign of panic I allow at having no idea what is happening. But I soon notice that they aren’t hurting me. They’re rough in an abrasive, clinical sort of way, but there’s no harm being caused.
I’m a rag doll, just bouncing between them as they preen and groom me. I’m too dazed and numb to resist, and my mind is still full of the worry that I might become dinner. It’s hard to concentrate, and since they don’t seem to be intent on killing me now, I just let them work.
Before I know it, I’m fully nude. A few of them scurry off, and the female who I started with is dragging a comb through my hair. The snarls and knots are significant, and she has her work cut out for her.
I’m a bit embarrassed to realize what bad shape I’m in. I know it’s not my fault, and not anything that I could help. I haven’t been given much time for my hygiene lately. Still, it’s hard not to feel a sense of shame.
She doesn’t seem to be either judgmental, or compassionate. She still has that stoic indifference, that she has a job to do. She doesn’t care about me, and I realize that I don’t really mind.
At least she isn’t bullying me.
The tears spring back a few times as she paws through my hair. But finally, she’s done. In a whirlwind, I'm pushed into another room, and tossed into a scalding hot tub. Hands seem to come from every direction, still pulling me this way and that to clean me.
I should be glad that I’m at least finally getting the dirt off, knowing that it will make me feel better.
But all I feel is numb.
38
REJ’THOREK
“It is done, my Prince. You’ll find the specimen has already been delivered to your residence.” the butcher says, having made quick work of the razorfiend’s corpse.
After the day I’ve had, it's hardly a consideration, any longer. “I appreciate the effort,” I say anyway, glad that the meat can go to some use among the city’s residents. “You always do fine work.” I wipe the sweat and blood from my brow, my skin still bright hot from the fight.
My new prize isn’t the only one who needs a bath.
I think about how my father reacted to my win, wondering vaguely if he intends to retaliate after the show I put on in the arena. It wouldn’t be in his best interest, since the crowd thoroughly enjoyed it. There are few things left to enjoy on this island, and it keeps them from murdering each other out of sheer boredom. I did a service to the Crown.
He should be thanking me.
After my khopesh is gleaming once more, I return to the privacy of my home, ascending the steps on a heavy gait. I avoid the servants as they rush about, preparing for the evening and slip into my private quarters to bathe.
In a matter of an hour, I am presentable again.
My dark flesh is clean, and I find a simple tunic and vest, much lighter than my heavy leather armor. I tie my hair back at the base of my skull and observe my sharp features in a mirror on the wall. I wonder if she’ll recognize me as the same demon who felled the Gilak?
My heart skips a beat.
She’s just a human, I remind myself, forcing my anticipation down. A slave, first of the dark elves, then of the demons. “Now she’s mine,” I whisper, the hint of a smile curling the corners of my lips. “And I’ll have her as I please.”
With that knowledge, I adjourn from my private rooms and descend the steps to find that dinner is finally ready. But it’s not the meal that causes me to pause, but the curious method in which my servants decided to prepare her.
There are dishes surrounding her, of cuts of binmou and silverleaf between her trembling knees, but she is laid upon the table, a silken sash tied about her head to hide her charming gray eyes. Her limbs are lashed to the table, her legs spread to reveal her naked form, barely covered by a sheer cloth.
