Page 18 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
“If you won’t come voluntarily, I wouldn’t mind dragging you down there myself,” he replied calmly.
My jaw dropped at his audacity. “I dare you.” The disturbing urge to set him on fire truly worried me. I’d never wished anyone harm, but it wouldn’t have gone past me if the opportunity arose.
“I guess it’s a deal.” Francis walked towards the bed, carefully putting the dress on top. “Highness,” the man bowed at me once again before taking his leave.
I faced Florence who held an odd expression on her face that I could not make sense of. She quickly masked it, putting on her bright smile. “I have some errands to run, you are more than welcome to join.” Her eyes lightened.
“I would prefer staying here.” Perhaps I would never leave this room: now that I truly had nowhere else to go, nowhere to be.
Florence nodded in understanding. “I will see you later then.” She shrugged, sending me a smile of sunshine.
I returned the nod, getting comfortable on the bed—the only place that felt safe as of recently.
Waking up from an unsettling feeling of someone watching me, I gasped as a dark silhouette stood above me.
“I am here to deliver you to the ball as promised, Your Highness.” Francis’ accent broke through the darkness.
“Leave this room immediately!” I hissed at him, covering myself with a blanket—not that he hadn’t seen my nightgown already.
Francis sighed, pure annoyance written on his face as he took a step towards me, effortlessly picking me up from the bed. I had no time to react.
“You wouldn’t dare!” I pushed him away, trying to free myself. “Put me down right this moment!”
“A deal is a deal.” He shrugged, crossing the room in mere seconds. He walked as though I weighed no more than a bag of feathers.
I kicked and punched, yet it didn't seem to hurt him at all. “Put me down!” I shouted again, but all my efforts were in vain. The amount of arrogance this man had in his possession was ridiculous.
Francis didn’t acknowledge my demands as we left the room, even after my attempt at grabbing onto the door frame.
All the insults I came up with in the last few months flew out of my mouth, yet he didn’t bother sparing me a glance: reigniting the urge to set him on fire.
Music in the hall grew louder with each step. The laughter and orchestra playing impregnated the stone walls: we must have been close.
This was humiliating! Perhaps, that had been his plan all along: to humiliate me in a room full of strangers while covered in dirt head to toe. He must have been jesting. He wouldn’t have dared! Would he have?
“Fine! Fine!” I surrendered. That seemed to catch his attention as he slowly put me down, still not letting me out of his grasp; his eyebrows shot upwards. “Fine!” I hissed at him again. “I will go! Just let me change.”
Francis gave me a half smile clearly feeling triumphant. A long sigh accompanied my defeat. Surrender left a sour taste in my mouth.
“Don’t take long, or we will be forced to repeat our fun adventure.” Francis smirked as I slammed the door in front of his nose.
Groaning, I made my way to the bathing chambers attached to the room.
Who did he think he was? Why was he so adamant over my attendance? He had already ruined my life. Was that not enough? Clearly not. But what choice did I have?
Even if I managed to lock myself in this room I was confident he would still find a way to drag me to the ball as I was. He seemed just as stubborn as me, but I was not about to show up barely dressed just to win an argument. I was a princess after all. Or at least I used to be. Still! Just because these people knew no manners, didn’t mean I could forget my own.
Undoing my old braid, I glanced at the mirror in front of me preparing for the worst. A gasp escaped my lips: I looked... beautiful. Covered in dirt, of course, but still beautiful. It had been a while since I looked this healthy. How was this possible? I looked alive. Ironically, more alive than when I—well—was actually alive.
My fingers traced down my face as I studied the person in the reflection.
Still the same features but sharper or softer I was not quite sure. My eyes reflected the light from the candle, shining so bright. Inhumanly bright. My lips were as crimson as blood. Because it was indeed blood on my lips, I quickly realized.
Not wishing to look at it for longer than I had to, I quickly wiped my lips with the back of my hand. A constant reminder of my new being.
Disgusting.I turned to the bath and let the water run.
After the bath that—conveniently—took a while. I stared at the dress still displayed on my bed. The dress was gorgeous: bright red, with some gold appliqués running down the skirt.
