Thorn Queen Page 0,110

bed and collapsed into an ungraceful pile on the floor. Cariena was there too, holding a bundle of clothing, and started to come help me. Art shook his head, and she froze.

"Looks like you won't be killing me today," he said.

"You fucking bastard," I said, tossing one arm on the bed and attempting to pull myself up. "How long was I out?"

"Oh, an hour or so. That's usually the worst part of it for humans. Now that you're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Cariena's going to help you look respectable."

I glared at him. I didn't know who'd stripped me down to this T-shirt and underwear, but if it had been him, he'd die extra slow. The scathing look he gave me suggested, however, that he found as little pleasure in me as I did in him.

"You can't keep me here," I warned, managing at last to sit back on the bed. "Someone's going to come looking for me."

"Who?" he asked. "You were the idiot who wandered off from your people. None of them saw you taken. None of them saw me or any of my companions-well, except for your two meager guards, and they won't say anything to anyone ever again."

With a sinking feeling, I knew he was right. Nobody knew what had happened to me. I'd mentioned the Yellow River theory off and on to a few of my friends, but none of them had any reason to suspect that was connected to my post-battle disappearance. If anything, they'd probably think there'd been another demon on the loose.

"Who the hell were your companions anyway?" I demanded, recalling the trained fighters. "Did you hire a mercenary army or something?"

Art only smiled. "Cariena, get her dressed." To me, he said, "Cooperate, or she'll be the one who suffers for your disobedience."

He left, shutting the door behind him. I heard the snick of a lock. Across the room, Cariena watched me with big, terrified eyes. She feared both me and Art. I sighed. "It's okay. I'll get dressed. I don't want to run around in my underwear anyway."

Visibly relieved, she stepped forward and unfurled what she held: a dress. A gentry-style dress.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said. "Isn't there something else?"

Cariena cringed. "It's all he gave me."

I eyed the bedspread, almost wondering if I could go all Scarlett O'Hara and make something for myself. Then, seeing Cariena's pale face, I yielded again. I wouldn't let Art beat her or give her to some guy because of me. I took the dress from her but discovered I couldn't put it on without help, not with my weak muscles and groggy motor control. Being in that state infuriated me. I hated being helpless. More upsetting still was that I was essentially free, unbound and able to move about...but I had no means to fight or defend myself. I could barely even stand. I was a prisoner in my own body.

The dress was a mix of lavender and pale blue. I guess you'd call it periwinkle, which I'd always thought was a dorky name. It was made of smooth, clingy velvet that hugged my body and laced up the back corset-style. The sleeves were long and form-fitting, and the scoop neckline was much lower than my usual style. I'd only wear something that showed that much cleavage if I was going on a date with Kiyo-or trying to coax a favor from Dorian.

Kiyo and Dorian. It sounded pathetic and all damsel-in-distress, but I would have given anything to have them here right now.

Cariena clasped her hands and studied me almost adoringly. "You look beautiful, your majesty. I see now why you have so many suitors back in our world."

Our world. "Well, I don't think my beauty plays quite as much a role as you think."

She produced a brush and undid the knotted ponytail in my hair. "I don't know if I want to be beautiful or not. I used to think I did. But since I'm not, no one will take me from here." She sounded grateful.

"You are beautiful," I said sharply, angry at what Art had said. "And someone is going to take you from here-me."

Cariena gave me a small, sad smile, but for the first time, I thought there might be something like hope in her eyes. A knock at the door startled her back into timid mode as she leapt up from where she'd sat beside me. "Oh! He's here."

"Who?" I asked. Surely Art wouldn't have knocked.

The lock clicked, and the