Fatal Fascinations

Chapter 14: Golden Lies

Annalina's POV:

My eyes fluttered opened, pulling me dreadfully from sleep. The sound of loud snoring filled the small room.

I sat up fast, taking in my surroundings. The last thing I remembered was the purple haired vampire launching herself at us, her starving eyes intesely focused on me. I slightly recalled being dragged through a doorway, but it was so dark my eyes could barely adjust.

Turning to the source of the snores, I saw Roland passed out on the end of the bed. One hand dangled from the side and his mouth was hanging open. He was still in the brown suit he wore in the throne room, but his jacket had been thrust aside. Now, his cream colored button up shirt was wrinkled, and small dots of red splattered on the very front.

He let out of low snore, so deep and hearty it sounded like a chortle.

A laughed bubbled up quickly inside me. Before I could stop myself I had laughed unscrupulously loud, causing Roland to jump to a start.

His green gold eyes flashed brightly as he sat up, wiping drool off his chin. His eyes drooped closed again before he forced them to full attention.

I laughed again, amused by the prince in disarray. His chesnut hair was mussed, his cheeks red with color and heat from sleep.

"Lina," he yawned, stretching his long arms. "How are you feeling?"

The use of a nickname seemed more personal than he was allowed, but I let it slide.

"Better," I said, my throat scratchy. I needed water.

Roland mouthed curved upward in a boyish smile.

"What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You have major bedhead," he informed me, his eyes sparkling.

I institictively reached to my hair, combing it down with my hands.

"Is the castle secure?" I asked. Are my friends safe? Why were we both asleep? What happened?

"Yes," Roland answered. "We would know if the prisoners were still at large."

I nodded at his answer, surveying the small tower room. It was a complete circle, holding one queen sized bed. Several large mirrors rested against the wall, covered halfhazardly by a white sheet. Three windows curved around the tower, the moon shining dimly through them. A candle burned low on the nightstand next to me.

"Where are we?" I asked Roland, hugging my knees to my chest. I still had my gray converse on.

"One of the few long forgotten rooms of Avolire," he told me, scanning the room with a sort of affection. Roland sighed.

"Only one other person knows this room exists because its hidden so well," he said sadly. The corners of his mouth turned down and he gently fingered the soft quilt on the bed.

I hadn't noticed a thick upturned book sitting next to him, the pages spread out across the bed.

"What were you reading?" I asked him, attempting to make conversation.

"Frankenstein."

"Interesting," I said, rasing my eyebrows. "Do you like to read?"

"Sometimes its all I do," he responded honestly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

My heart stirred at his sheepish smile. This is the leader of the Mercari I reminded myself.

The thought immediately cut off any sense of comradery I may have felt towards Roland over our shared love of literature.