The Desired Victim

Chapter 18: Replenish and Renew

Hey everyone!! This chapter isn't as exciting, but it's definitely necessary :) I hope you guys like it regardless!! Feedback is always welcome my loves, enjoy <3

Nicolas led me to the room where I would apparently be staying. To my surprise, it was nothing at all like I was expecting. Like Captain Cassandra's room, the suite was heavily furnished and looked as if it were meant for someone of great importance. It reminded me slightly of home, and my chest ached at the thought of never returning home ever again for as long as I lived. The room contained a silky bed, a closet full of expensive looking clothing, its own powder room with a small bathtub filled to the brim, and small vases of flowers decorated everywhere giving the entire place a relaxing and pleasant scent. 

I look around very confused.

Shouldn't I be in a cellar rotting somewhere? Or perhaps with the other prisoners, where Emory could possibly be . . . 

"You are permitted to stay in this room at all times," Nicolas was saying, interrupting my thoughts. He seemed so much more relaxed, probably because we weren't in the same room with the captain anymore. I noticed that I was slightly more relaxed as well. "I've been ordered to isolate you from the others, out of sight."

I jumped when he starting untying the rope around my neck, even though he did it gently. 

"There won't be any need for this, sí?"

I shook my head, staring at the floor. 

"Excelente. You have permission to change into whatever clothes you can find in that closet there, and you are welcome to bathe in the powder room."

I look at him, hesitantly.

Is this a game? Why am I being treated like some guest? I'm just cargo, property, a slave. No one has treated me like a human being since the night I was taken, so why all of the sudden treat me like one now? Perhaps the Hispanics have different ways of treating their human wares. But after looking at Nicolas, I have a feeling something else is going on here. And I'm not sure what it is.

As if reading my thoughts, Nicolas touched my cheek and softly whispered, "You're worth many fortunes, princesa. You should be treated as such."

I gave him the smallest of smiles.

Nicolas just stood there, holding his hand on my cheek for a few moments. I was getting uncomfortable until he finally said, "I'll go and fetch your dinner, please make yourself at home." And then he kissed the top of my hand. "Por favor . . . make yourself at home." He flashed me a handsome smile and left, locking the golden door behind him.

The first thing I did as soon as Nicolas left was submerge myself in the bathwater. It wasn't anything like the bath I had when I was back at the rat-maze with Gretel, it was even more glorious than I can describe. The warmth of the water renewed my body, and washed away all of my blood, dirt, and tears. The powder room even had soap I could use, and I greedily used it all over myself. I had forgotten the feeling of being clean, and I instantly felt ashamed at how quickly I'd gotten used to being dirty. 

I sunk my entire body to the bottom of the tub.

Why had Nicolas shown me so much kindness? Was it an act? Did he want something from me? I didn't know who or what to believe in this sort of world anymore, especially after Emory . . .

I bubbled to the surface.

No matter what I thought, my mind always traveled back to Emory. Where was he? Was he dead? Scrubbing the soap harshly against my body, I decided I didn't care. He doesn't care about me at all, and the sooner I can accept that, the better off I'll be. 

Feeling pleased with myself, I quickly got out of the bathtub, feeling like a new person as well. I didn't want to risk the chance of Nicolas coming back early, so I rushed into the closet and found the closest thing I could to a dress my size.

It was too large for me, it drooped over my shoulders like a blanket. It needed to be hemmed at the bottom too, I was practically tripping over it. But I'd much rather wear a thousand of these dresses than to slither myself into one more corset or revealing piece of clothing. Besides, it was a lavender color. I wonder if Emory likes the color lavender . . . 

Stop, Evelyn. I told myself. I have to stop thinking about him, he probably burned in the fire along with his ship. Good riddance. Nicolas has treated me better in one conversation, than Emory has the entire time I've known him. 

My face grew hot as I thought about Emory almost kissing me. 

Frustrated, I threw myself on to the bed and groaned. My frustration soon melted into exhaustion, however, after I felt how comfortable the bed was. It was the softest thing I had touched in what felt like years.

Aside from Emory.

I took a pillow to my face and screamed.

I don't remember when, but I eventually fell into a deep slumber without realizing it, and I dreamed of Emory and I dancing at a ball in a magical place far away from here. 

**********************************************************