Redemption

Redemption Part 2

Lacy handed me my stiff princely clothes. I protested, but she said, "We must keep up appearances."

I mumbled that it was just my family, but then, it was my family's protocol to stuff me into formal clothes as many unnecessary times as they could get away with.

I peeled off my pajama shirt. I did feel a bit ashamed...I'd been wearing these clothes for days. No reason to change...beyond Lacy's gentle encouragement—and I wasn't doing much to get sweaty, other than have nightmares. But to not shower for days... that was a bit much.

It did feel good—the heavy thrum of the water against me, drowning out the hollow nothing sounds of my room, of those interminable days of being grounded.

As customary for a servant, Lacy held out a towel for me when I got out of the shower. Hastily, I snatched it away and swathed it around my waist before much of the mist could dissipate.

Then I wondered what was wrong with me. She was just glorified furniture. To be ashamed to be naked in front of an emotionless machine, just because she was in the shape of a woman? I'd even had female Ms help dress me for more elaborate rituals and thought nothing of it. Ms only had simulated emotions; they didn't feel anything, and even if they could, any...attraction toward me would be forbidden.

So what had changed?

It doesn't matter, I told myself, but couldn't avoid the shame roiling through me as Lacy held out my clothes.

I didn't want to let on that it bothered me. Didn't want Lacy to wonder what had gotten into me. Not that I really cared what she thought—but...she might tell Dad I was acting strangely. The last thing I wanted was for Dad (or anyone else) to know the whole truth of that day.

I dressed as quickly as possible, though I was still mostly damp, and tugged on my pants, then wrapped my formal shirt with its stiff gold-embroidered collar over my torso. Lacy helped fasten the golden clasps, closing the gap over my chest. My chest tightened, as if the clasps were too tight, then I realized I wasn't breathing. I took deep breaths, but sharp pain shot through my lungs and I pushed her metal hands from me, retreating back into my bedroom.

"I can do it myself."

Her protests sounded muffled, distant. I sat down on the edge of the bed, breathing hard, and leaned my head in my hand. I felt dizzy. What was wrong with me?

A hand—reaching toward me—lightning dancing over the delicate fingers—

Large golden eyes, fingers digging into my jaw, lips wresting a kiss from me—

No—it wasn't a kiss! I tore from that memory and sought the sky. It ached to look at it, but at least there the pervasive darkness wasn't clutching at my heart. Before I knew it, I was at the window, and I could almost imagine there was nothing between me and the sky....

It struck me, hard, that it had been my first kiss. A horrible feeling seized my throat at this. She'd stolen something precious from me. I could never get it back.

A memory of a holographic kiss from two years ago floated into my mind, but that had not been real. I'd tried to shove that painful memory away—but compared to this, that was just a vague shadow, and it had no real power anymore. That was one good thing about this! Ha!

It shouldn't matter. It wasn't even a kiss—not on my end—I didn't want her in the least. It was just a couple lips pressing together—that's all—

The soft, warm insistent pressure of her lips on mine. Her hand locking against the back of my neck. The slight salt taste of her lips—

I almost gagged. No. I've got a distraction now. If I start doing something—these memories will dissipate and have no power over me. They only loom so large because I've been trapped here, with nothing else to think about.