Page 27 of Caged By Dance and Desire

“I was busking,” I said, redoing my bun to give my hands something to do. “I didn’t attract attention on purpose.”

“No, you wouldn’t. But then you wouldn’t have to do it on purpose.”

I glanced over fast enough to catch the flash of pity in her gaze before it iced over again.

“Don’t care, and don’t mistake him for only a guard.” She curled her lip at me. “He’s pretty enough, and I’d bet he’s also kind, caring, open and affectionate—and your Lord has encouraged the friendship? Yes. He’s the perfect whipping boy. Anger your Lord, and you’ll find out your guard’s true purpose.”

She let me flee and I returned to my guard, tucking her words in the back of my mind.

“I made the showcase party,” I told Mathen, waving the invitation under his nose.

“Good news,” he said, and offered me a half smile as we left the building.

“Not just good news!”

Once we were on the street I turned towards him, throwing my arms around his neck and giving him my full weight like he was one of my brothers. He didn’t even brace. I felt like a teenager again.

“I know the mistress says this doesn't mean we have a leg up in the showcase, but we've all studied the odds. Eighty percent of the dancers who make this showcase are offered a position in the corps, and the last three principals were showcase party dancers too. She's just trying to be nice to the people who didn't make it.”

I twirled around him, spinning faster and faster until he laughed, sliding an arm around my back and herding me towards the coach.

“Save that energy for this evening,” he advised, squeezing my shoulder before opening the door and ushering me inside.

I leaped out of the carriage almost before it pulled to a complete stop, dashing into the townhouse and up the steps three at a time until I burst into my room. I hadn't had an excuse for this kind of excitement since learning I'd earned a spot in the program.

The party started at the equivalent of 8:00 PM which meant I had three hours to get ready and travel to the location. Wait.

I left my bedroom, heading to snag the first warrior I saw and asked her to inform Andrei of my plans for the evening.

Then I ran back upstairs and showered. Going through my entire grooming routine though all the particulars weren't quite necessary.

I used a fragrant oil in my hair and blow-dried it to hang in dark, shining perfection down my back, rubbed more oil into my skin, and critically inspected my fingernails. I kept them short and buffed for the sake of simplicity, but maybe I could hunt down one of Andrei's polishes. He'd worn a nearly transparent, opalescent hue the other day that wouldn't clash with my dress and also wouldn’t look bad if I applied it poorly.

I wrinkled my nose thinking of that cocktail dress as I left the bedroom wrapped in a fluffy white towel and headed to Andrei's room.

Entering his dressing closet, I headed for the vanity and poked around until I found the cabinet that revealed a selection of?—

Sweet Jesus. I never knew a person could own that many nail polishes. Did he collect them for fun, or did he actually wear all of them?

It took me too long to decide between five different shades of clear to white with some type of shimmer to it, but finally I plucked one out of its slot and turned, leaving the entirely too large walk-in closet. No one needed all these clothes, shoes, and accessories. Not even a High Lord.

I stopped short when I saw a drape of green fabric over Andrei's cloth of gold bedspread. I walked towards it silently, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet.

Long, the fabric going sheer towards the bottom of the high-low skirt. A fitted bodice, the deep v halter neckline heavily beaded in gold that would bring out the warmth of my skin tone.

Everything about this dress screamed bespoke, and expensive. . .and Andrei. The lace, beading, and sheer fabric were completely to his taste. I wondered if I returned to my closet to find the black cocktail dress, if it would be there anymore. My clothing had a way of disappearing in this house. He didn’t trash my clothes, because I’d checked. He probably burned them, or buried them in the gardens.

I glanced down and spotted the matching slippers, smiling because he knew I didn’t like to wear heels. My feet took enough abuse during the day.

Running the tip of my finger along the dress, I blinked back moisture in my eyes. I'd never owned anything this exquisite. And, sigh, I couldn't accept it. Could I?

I was already living in the man's house, eating his food, using toiletries he'd purchased, riding around the city in his coach guarded by his warriors.

I ran a hand over my face. Protesting a dress seemed silly at this point. It was time to accept what I was. . .his mistress. Though we hadn't had sex yet.

But that was the point. All of this was in exchange for becoming his lover. A bribe. Oh, he’d said it wasn't but. . .what else did I have to offer but my body?

My scintillating conversation? I barely talked about anything besides dance, and I was certain Andrei's interpersonal needs were otherwise being met by Constin.

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