Page 71 of Princess Broken

“I hope you don’t mind,” Pierre says, “but Maria took the liberty of adding your dress to the brothers’ laundry, as well as the intimate garment we found in the living room. And with your permission, Maria would very much like to tidy the guest room. Your room.”

“Oh, that isn’t necessary.” Blush rises on my cheeks as I imagine one of them finding my underwear. “I’ve only spent one night in the bed.”

“Cleaning your room might not be necessary,” a female voice says, “but it would be my absolute pleasure.”

Turning, I see a woman, dark hair tied in a messy bun on top of her head, smiling near the room’s entrance. Her complexion is pale, and so is Pierre’s, making me wonder if they live underground. Are they trapped here?

“Ana, this is Maria, our other steward.” Flame urges me toward the woman who grins broadly, and then bows her head slightly as we approach.

“Very pleased to meet you, Ana,” she says. “Please, let me know if you need anything. We’re here to serve you.”

“That’s very kind,” I say. There were servants at the vampiric palace, but all were fellow vampires. I suppose one might consider our blood donors at the palace to be servants, but I never thought of them in that way. The blood donors were well remunerated for their nourishing gifts, and did not live directly inside the palace. I never put them in the same category as the staff who did the cooking and cleaning and kept the palace running.

While these two humans seem very happy with their situation, appearances can be deceiving, and the idea that they are trapped down here, enslaved, raises my radar for injustice. If Maria and Pierre are here against their will, I will save them. After I save myself.

“Maria.” I step away from Flame’s touch. “I have a gown that is badly soiled. I’m afraid it might be ruined and would appreciate your expert opinion on whether or not it’s salvageable. May I show you?”

“Of course.” Smiling, Maria nods and then steps to the side to let me exit the bedroom first. She follows with Flame behind her. As much as I feel the urge to be around Flame—all the time—at this very moment I’m hoping for a private conversation with Maria, one outside of Flame’s earshot.

I’m prepared to ask him for that chance, but before I can, he crosses toward the fireplace and starts poking the embers.

He turns back toward me. “You ladies take all the time you need. I’ll be out here.”

My stomach flutters at the sight of him, how the firelight highlights his handsome face and also his scars, which alter the shape of his lower legs below the robe. On Flame, even badly marred skin is sexy.

Maria opens the guest room door, and then waits for me to enter first. She follows me inside, and I close the door behind us, hoping that Gracen was right about the men’s code prohibiting eavesdropping. Flame could easily use his vampiric power to listen to everything Maria and I say, even given the closed door and the distance between us.

I’d guess Maria and Pierre are both in their forties, but I’ve never been skilled at guessing the ages of humans, only physically aging one month past my seventeenth birthday myself. Even though I’m much, much older in years.

“Is your gown in the wardrobe?” Maria asks.

“It’s in that sack of clothes, but first, can we talk for a moment?”

Her head turns toward me, her expression revealing surprise, but then she smiles and nods. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

“Let’s sit.” I gesture toward a pair of plush floral chairs in one corner of the room, and then hike up my robe to help me maneuver onto the oversized chair, settling with my legs tucked up under me.

“I’ll get you a smaller robe,” Maria says with a smile, as she sits at the edge of the other chair.

I want to tell her to relax, but realize that could come off as a demand—you will relax!—so instead, I vow to do my best to set her at ease. Our staff at the vampiric palace may not have been equals in every sense of the word, but they were treated respectfully at all times.

But clearly, that assessment is biased. I only saw the dynamic from my very privileged perspective. As the heir to the throne, I was the most senior individual at court every time my father was away. And my other frame of reference with servants goes all the way back to my childhood. Back then, our family had many, they outnumbered us by a huge factor, and most were extremely deferential. Our family moved around the house, around them, as if they barely existed.

Only after our family was imprisoned, did I realize how much I had taken our servants for granted. A few were held captive along with us, but only the ones who’d been in charge of the rest of the staff, the ones closest to my mother, the only servants who dared even speak to my parents or siblings. When I think of some of the bratty things I did as a child… The trouble I caused for the palace staff…

I will never treat anyone like that ever again.

“Maria,” I say softly. “First, I want you to know that you can be fully honest with me. You can tell me anything, and I promise it won’t get back to your…employers.”

“Great.” She shrugs. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Do you and Pierre live in Freetown, or just work here?”

“Oh, we live here too.”

I try to hide my reaction. They are captives.

I lean toward her. “If you’re in danger, or if you need my help to get free, I promise I’ll help you without alerting your masters.”

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