InkSkin

A Prince

Prince LuSol looked every inch like royalty. He stood as regally tall as his mother, his silver white hair plaited and styled without a single hair out of place. His dark gray suit looked expensive and was tailored to fit his body like a second skin without a single wrinkle to mar the vision of perfection.

Alsuha stood stock still in the middle of the opulently furnished room. There were chairs that looked so frail Alsuha was afraid to touch them and the cloth they were wrapped in looked just as expensive as the Prince's suit. She was afraid to look at them let alone sit in one. She was convinced that the moment she went near one she would leave a trail of slime on it.

Get a hold of yourself. She mentally berated herself.

She kept her head down as the Prince walked over to her. He came to a standstill right before her but all she could see were the tips of his glossy boots. She could feel his gaze rest on her still burning cheek and locked her jaw tight. She fought the urge to ball her hands into fists. She was wise enough to know that she could not fight her battles here the same way she had in the Pitts.

In the Pitts her temper and her smart mouth had served her well. Yet, it was all she could do not to completely lose control when those boots started to move to her left and she could no longer see them. It took all of her self control not to turn and challenge him. You never let anyone stand behind you in the Pitts. It was as sure as a death sentence. Alsuha breathed a little easier when those glossy boots came back into her line of sight.

"I see you have made my mother's acquaintance," the Prince said as he gently ran the back of his knuckles against Alsuha's still burning cheek. Alsuha jumped at the gentle touch and was taken aback by the controlled rage in the Prince's voice.

"Her Majesty, Queen Drofan, wishes to present Your Highness with the gift of this Companion." Erif said with a deep bow.

"And where is my dear beloved parent?" Prince Lusol asked as he made a show of looking around. "I do not see her."

"Her Majesty sends her regrets. Her duties to your father, most beloved King Yraurd, have called her away." The Prince snorted a most un-royal sound. Alsuha tried not to fidget as silence filled the room.

"Leave us."

"Yes, Prince Lusol," Erif said with another bow, though not as deep as the one before. As formal and subservient as Erif was being with the Prince there was something, and Alsuha couldn't quite put her finger on it, which seemed as though Erif was mocking the Prince. She thought back to Erif's earlier interactions with the Queen and she thought she remembered the same something about Erif when she was around the Queen as well. Now that she had noticed it, Alsuha made a mental note to watch Erif a little more closely. She was intrigued and realized that perhaps the other Ink'd woman was more than she had originally thought.

"Erif?" The Prince called after her as she turned to go.

"Yes, my Prince?" she asked as she turned to him once more.

"Thank you."

"I will make sure you're..."

"No. Thank you. I know you are the reason she is here."

Alsuha had the feeling that something untoward was happening. She chanced a peek at the two of them and was surprised to see Erif returning the Prince's stare, a slight smile drawing up the corners her lips.

"You are most welcome, my Prince." With another quick bow, Erif was gone, leaving the Prince and Alsuha alone.

"You must be some kind of big deal for my mother to have pulled you out of the Pitts and given you to me with so little ... social grace." Alsuha was afraid to speak; there was too much rage in her for that.

"Don't you speak?" Alsuha watched those boots come towards her once more. "I must admit this will be a dreadfully dull relationship if I am forced to listen to myself speak for hours on end."

"You do not seem to have a problem with that," Alsuha snapped and immediately slapped her hand over her mouth and looked up, her eyes wide with dread.

Her eyes locked on to the Prince's and she could not look away. He has his mother's eyes. The thought rose unbidden, but where his mother's eyes were a cold dark red like old blood, his were warmer, kinder.

"Ah, so you do speak." And the Prince laughed, a rich sound that fought its way into Alsuha, making her smile unwittingly.

"I am sorry. I ... it just came out."

"Don't be sorry. I like a little spirit in people. Especially those I must spend a great deal of time with. So, what is your name? You've kept me in suspense long enough!"

"I am known as MC35687, your Highness."

"I meant your real name. You know the one that reads on your Ink."

"Oh, I ... I am called Alsuha."

"Hmmm ... It's pretty. What does it mean?"

"I do not know," Alsuha said as shame stained her cheeks.

"Do not know? I thought all Bonded could read Ink?"

"I cannot, but I am learning," she added hastily for some reason not wanting him to think less of her.

"I was very new to my Ink when I was Collared."

Why, in the name of the Ancient Ones, am I explaining myself to him?

"I thought all the children of Ink had died?"

"That is what I keep being told and yet here I am." The Prince simply stared at Alsuha. She felt heat fill her cheeks at his stare and fought the urge to blurt out another impertinent statement. She got the impression the Prince saw and knew what she struggled again; a small smile flirted with the edges of his lips.

"Yes, I do believe we will get along just fine. We will learn much from one another, I think."

"As you wish," Alsuha replied with a slight dip of her head. She was trying to channel Erif's calm grace.

"I've never met a Companion as young as you." And he laughed. "You are probably over a thousand years old."

"I am 2,012 years old... give or take a few dozen years."

"Mmmm," LuSol said as he searched his memory. "My last Companion was almost 6,000 years old when he... left me." There was a sadness behind the words that caught at Alsuha's heart and surprised her. Suddenly, she had the urge to ask if they had been close, but the words stuck in her throat.

How close can a Bland be to an Ink'd anyway? She mentally scoffed at herself.

"Well, I suppose the first call of order is to buy you a new wardrobe in my colors."

"Oh! I will do well with what I am wearing. Thank you though." The Prince laughed.

"You cannot stand at my side wearing my mother's colors. And you certainly cannot wear that outfit day in and day out. Come." He strode to the door.

"We might as well begin." He threw a grin at her over his shoulder as he disappeared through the doorway.