The clothes I wore nearly sucked the
life out of me, I could barely choke down air to my lungs. They put me in a tight black lace dress that barely covered my knees. The dress had one of my arms covered with a sleeve of see through lace patterns and the other exposed. To me the design of the dress was strange but if the Royals claim it's beautiful than it must be.
A choker circled my throat and a loop now hung from my punctured left ear. I miss my simple shirt and pants work clothes. This fabric felt unknown and strange to my skin. I didn't feel like myself at all, and for the first time ever I really actually hated being in my own skin. My arm still burned from being stripped of skin and drawn on, my ear throbbed from having a needled pierced through it, and my skin felt flushed from being exposed in so many areas. I actually have a cleavage showing! How was I suppose to work in a dress anyway?
Which reminds me, what exactly would I be doing as a personal maid? I study my tattooed schedule for the first time, and to my surprise its not a schedule at all. It was more like a list of rules or guidelines. I struggled to read each word, but eventually I understood it.
It read:
•Chores and labor will be instructed by the Royal you are assigned to.
•Never speak back in a harsh or inappropriate tone.
•Follow no other orders instructed by any other Royal other than the Royal you are assigned to.
• Take initiative to your assigned Royal's needs and wants.
•Only make eye contact if ordered to do so.
•Bow respectively whenever a Royal enters a room.
•Always listen attentively to the Royal you are assigned to.
•Never disobey or show hesitation towards demands or orders.
•~Property Of Daemon Victorian II~•
The last statement written on my arm filled me with annoyance. The whole thing was bullshit. This goes against everything I've been taught while working here. I was taught to never acknowledge the existence of a Royal. To be invisible and silent. Now I have to bow whenever he walks in a room? I might as well kiss the ground he walks on.
***
I stand on the outside of Daemon Victorian's door. The place he had offered for me to meet him only a day ago. To think if I had just swallowed my pride and my fear and taken his offer I might not be here now in the most sex appealing dress ever preparing to wait on him hand and foot.
I quickly go over the different ideas in my head to get myself out of this.
I could tighten this ridiculous choker around my neck and let death take me, that seemed like a simple way out. Or I could fail at my job all together, then he'd probably let me be a house servant again, or he'd kill me. Both ideas seemed inevitably tempting....decisions...decisions.
I take a deep breathe and decide to face matters head on, just to see how it pans out. My shaking hands grip the handle of the door, and I push open walking through the threshold. I walk in and my eyes meet with the the boy standing on the opposite side of the room.
It wasn't Daemon.
"Hey Angel."
"Seth?"
*************