Unbound

Descend

The velvet clung to Analise like a second skin. As a princess, she was hardly used to wearing such scandalous attire. The fabric clawed her curves, niggled her breasts; and each step she took caused her to fight her instinct to scurry around the corner and righten its roving hemline.

Her hands sought the dress’s soft, tawdry neckline. Nearly all her chest was exposed and her breasts cowered in a scant sheath. Agnar would clutch his heart at the sight. And the council? Her head gave a grave shake.

Lucinda beckoned Analise through dark, winding halls. Scant light, save the dim flickering of candelabras, caressed the halls. Her flinched at each unexpected turn. Indeed, such a lack of lighting led her to a degree of madness. Would she trip, fall – injure herself? Hell, how any could discern anything through the pitch was insane.

“We’re almost there, your highness,” Lucinda whispered.

Analise nodded and paused before carpeted steps. An elaborate, winding staircase laid before her. It descended below, where haughty voice carried into the rafters. Luckily, it seemed to be better lit. Several guards flanked the staircase. Their eyes were fathomless black pits, the white within them demolished.

A small gasp escaped her lips.

How were such eyes possible?

The voices downstairs stilled, and the guards turned toward her as one. Pits surveyed her; one head bobbed in Lucinda’s direction.

Lucinda whirled around Analise in response. Space blurred as she zoomed; her fingers skimming over invisible impurities and rearranging the untamed crimson waterfalls that streamed down Analise’s back. Lucinda lifted a small bunch of hair forward, adjusted it to fall amid the plunging V at her neck.

The servant sighed gaily at her work. Stared down at the floor and whispered a blessing in an unknown tongue.

Lucinda gestured down the stairs, doe eyes wide.

“I’ll be right behind you, your highness.”

Somehow, a being who disappeared in mirrors at her back wasn’t soothing.

She mustered a sardonic smile and placed a heeled toe on the first step. The guards turned their heads down in unison as she disembarked, hands folded dutifully behind their backs.

The stair carpeting was a lush purple. It threatened to eat her heels, causing her uneasy stumbles. Lucinda’s hand strayed lightly at her back – a whispered reassurance she wouldn’t collapse.

Yet, as an opulent throne room appeared and her foot dared the last step, she lunged into the dark. A blinding swatch of dark colors swathed her. An icy-cool touch seared through her waist, and she peered into gold, gold eyes.

“My fallen angel,” an ancient voice crooned. “Welcome home.”