His Liege

Marionette

Stelian woke up disoriented. He stared up that the ceiling, slowly regaining feeling in his limbs before coming back to himself enough to try to sit up. A soreness in his neck had him dropping his head back on the pillow with a groan. He raised a hand to the aching area, his fingers running over the juncture of his neck and shoulder. When he felt a sharp sting, his hand jerked away from his neck, and he stared, horrified at the blood coating his fingers.

He flung himself from the bed, smearing his blood on the sheet, rushing to find a mirror. When he found his own reflection in the mirror, he was startled to discover the gnarled bite mark that would forever mar his skin. He looked so pale, his lips chapped, the only color stemming from the fear in his blue eyes.

Millions of thoughts raced in his mind, yet he could not decipher a single one. Pictures flashed across his mind, the color red, the rabbit mask, the red haired women, snow, Lucian, fangs, black, teeth, mate, Lucian. Lucian. Where was Lucian? The bite mark throbbed achingly, and Stelian pulled his eyes away from his startled reflection as the floor got closer and blackness once again swallowed him.

When he came to, he heard a rather loud knocking on the door. After several tries, he got himself up, and staggered towards the door. He had barely opened it when he was shoved back and the redheaded woman burst into the room, followed by servants carrying boxes and bolts of fabric. Not knowing what to do, Stelian stood still, or as still as he could while he remained in the clutches of pain's delirium, as the redheaded women's nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Were you raised in a barn, boy? The room is a mess." She complained. Stelian stared at her blankly. She waited for him to say something, before huffing impatiently. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"My apologies for not cleaning, I have a rather large neck wound that no one seems to be concerned about." He snarked tiredly. The redheaded woman's eyes narrowed.

"That neck wound, as you stupid humans call it, is a gift from the gods bestowed upon you lowly creatures. A mating mark, that binds you to our king, though you are hardly worthy of him." She huffed, and Stelian flinched. That one stung a little.

"Enough chatter!" She yelled suddenly, and Stelian started from the loud noise. "His majesty has entrusted me with your wedding fittings. Strip him down!" She ordered the servants, who then pounced on Stelian's weak body.

Once he was mostly, and unwillingly, stripped down to his undergarments, the red headed woman walked around him, poking, pulling, and prodding where she saw fit. The seamstress followed behind her, measuring every part of his body that could be clothed, and scrawling in a messy hand into a worn leather notebook.

The red headed woman stopped in front of Stelian, reaching her cold hand to grasp Stelian's chin. Their eyes locked, and Stelian stared back at her, trying very hard to ignore the throbbing pain in his neck.

"I suppose you are quite pretty, almost like a doll." She murmured, brushing her claw like nails over his cheek. "I wonder how long it will take for the king to tire of playing with you, and throw you out like all of his other toys." She said, her voice light and soft. She gave him a cruel smile, before snapping her fingers, and turning to leave. The seamstress and her servants then followed the red headed woman out the door.

When the door shut with a loud thud, and Stelian sank to the floor, hand clasped against his neck. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, but ignored his blurred vision as he forced himself up to his feet. He slowly made his way to the bed, wrapping himself up in the thick fur laying atop of it. Stelian stared up at the vaulted ceiling, a single tear rolling down his cheek, and onto the bloodstained pillow.