Captured (Page 13)

It would only be a matter of time before she went crazy from it.

Aria wandered silently into the library again. She studied the walls of books, her gaze running over the thick leather bindings. She often found herself in this room, curious as to what the books contained within their depths, wondering about the stories within them. She moved slowly toward them, trailing her fingers over their covers. The leather was cool, soft and nice beneath her fingertips. She wished she knew what they said.

Oh, she knew a few words, not many, but enough to be able to decipher plans and most of a message, but even that was not enough to help her with these endless mysteries. She could make out most of the titles, but when she opened the covers she found that almost everything inside blurred into gibberish.

She slipped one of the books free of the others. It was the one that fascinated her most for some reason, the one she repeatedly returned to. She opened it, flipping slowly through the slightly yellowed pages as she picked out certain words upon them. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing that she could make sense of it.

Shaking her head, Aria released a soft sigh as she closed the book and slid it morosely back on the shelf. “Something against Ivanhoe?”

Aria jumped, nearly releasing a small shriek as her head snapped up. She had not heard the prince enter the apartment, but there he was, standing in the doorway, his head bowed as he studied her from behind his glasses. Aria swallowed heavily, not sure how he would react to finding her here, and certainly unsure as to what Ivanhoe was.

“Ivanhoe?” she asked softly.

He remained unmoving for a moment, his eyebrows drawn sharply together. “Yes, Sir Walter Scott’s tale of Ivanhoe. It is quite entertaining, and something I thought you would enjoy as he was a bit of a rebel himself.”

Arianna couldn’t help but smile at the teasing tone in his voice. Though she was lonely, and lost here, she found that his company was oddly comforting. Probably because he was one of the only two people that she had to talk to in this strange, uncertain world. “Oh,” Aria glanced back at the novel, glad to finally know what the title of it was. “I see.”

He moved away from the door, coming slowly toward her. Stopping beside her, his arm brushed lightly against hers as he reached for the book that she had just replaced. Aria’s heartbeat picked up slightly, she still did not trust him, still despised his kind, but he had been nothing but nice to her over the past few days. And the longer she was here, the more fascinated with him she became. She hated the feeling, she thought it had something to do with the fact that she was trapped here, but she could not shake it.

He pulled the book slowly from the shelf, holding it before him. “It was one of my favorites when I was younger. I think you will enjoy it.”

Aria swallowed heavily as she stared at the fascinating book. Her fingers were trembling slightly as she reached out and took it slowly from him, unwilling to admit that she didn’t know how to read. He already thought her unmannered, ill kempt, dirty and possibly a little backwards. She didn’t want him to think that she was stupid too.

“I’m sure I will,” she said softly.

His finger was gentle beneath her chin as he nudged it upward. “Arianna, do you know how to read?” Her gaze darted wildly around; she looked everywhere but at him. She could not bring herself to look at him as she tried to figure out how to answer him. “Arianna?”

She recognized the tone that he took when he was getting slightly aggravated with her. It did not happen often, usually only when she did not eat as much as he wanted her too, or when she tried to get out of having Maggie help her. For the most part he was patient, kind even, and she found herself liking him almost as much as she hated him for it. Because she was certain that something bad was going to happen, and that he would turn on her eventually. She was convinced that this strange kindness was just a rouse to earn her trust before destroying her completely.

“A little,” she finally admitted on a whisper.

He sighed softly; his finger momentarily stroked her chin before he released her. “Well we will have to remedy that. Come.”

Aria stared after his retreating back before he disappeared from sight. Remedy that? What did he mean by that? Arianna followed him from the room, moving slowly back to the sitting room, but he did not settle onto the sofa. Instead, he crossed to the window seat by the bay window and settled upon it. Aria hesitated, uncertain as to what to do or say. She folded her hands before her, rocking slightly back on her feet as she watched him intently.

His eyebrows rose slowly over his dark glasses, he patted the seat beside him. “I will not bite you Arianna.”

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him, not at all appreciative of his teasing words. She threw her shoulders back, thrust out her chin and walked swiftly toward him. His hand left the seat beside him, sliding away as she settled stiffly next to him. He studied her for a moment more before opening the book and placing it on their laps. Aria looked at the words, her discomfort growing as she stared dumbly at them. The words and letters swam before her on the page, blurring together before snapping back into focus; they still made no sense.

“It’s ok,” he said softly.

She turned slowly toward him, swallowing heavily. The force of his stare burned through her, even though she could not see it. His hand wrapped gently around her wrist, she jumped slightly, his touch searing into her skin. Her breath hitched in her chest, her heart leapt wildly. For a moment she could only stare helplessly at him, confused by the strange sensations and emotions coursing through her. Why was he toying with her like this? Why was he being so kind when they both knew that in the end he would only destroy her?

Deciding not to fight against it, deciding to go along with his games, she settled back in the seat. Perhaps it was best if he thought she trusted him, that she was not waiting for him to rip her throat out at any moment. His arm slipped briefly around her waist, pulling her gently against his side. His skin was cool to the touch, certainly not as warm as hers, but not freezing either. She found that she fit perfectly against him, and did not mind the touch of his cooler flesh against her; in fact she almost welcomed it. A fact that she felt she should hate herself for, but she simply couldn’t, it felt too right. She was willing to play the game, but this was so very intimate and cozy. It was something she had never experienced before, and it was unnerving, frightening, and exciting all at once.

She had to forcefully remind herself that he was a monster, that he was toying with her, and that he was taking joy in her discomfort, even if he didn’t appear to be. She tilted her head, her fingers twitching slightly as she studied those dark glasses. Not for the first time she wished he would take them off so that she could see his eyes. But in the week that she had been here, she had never once seen him without those dark shades.