CAPTIVE by the Prince

Chapter Twelve

"What are you doing outside of your room, woman?!" Ivan demanded angrily as he tightened his hold onto the vampire's waist.

"Just hanging around, you know. I usually stumble down on stairs just for fun," he heard her answering sarcastically. "What do you think we're doing?! We were trying to carry my trunks inside my room if it isn't that too obvious for you to notice." She squirmed out of his hold and elbowed him on his stomach when he started releasing his hold on her. "If you don't mind, I need to help Erien."

The female started climbing the stairs and he only then noticed a female elf was standing in the middle of the stairs, struggling to pull a heavy trunk. He was slightly surprised to see a female vampire suddenly appear and help the elf. Now since when did vampires start helping elves? The other female—what was her name again? Ah yes, Anastasia—upon seeing the elf and the vampire were able to carry the trunk, started climbing down the stairs and pulled another trunk by its handle.

"If you two ogres there will remain to stand, then at least don't block my way!" he heard Anastasia demand, directing her ire towards the two sentry elves. She started dragging the trunk towards the stairs, and when she had reached him standing at the bottom of the steps she said scornfully, "Move, elf!"

Ivan looked up heavenwards and exasperatingly said, "Oh for the love of—!" He snatched the trunk from Anastasia's hold, addressed the sentry elves, "You two, start carrying those blasted trunks!" and effortlessly carried the trunk to Anastasia's room.

"Oh, now you two buffoons wanted to help? Oh, please, by all means, do so! But you won't be receiving any tips from me. Bad customer service!" Ivan heard the female scoff. Why was his normal and quiet life snatched away from him? Why would the gods play this infernal prank on him and hand him this difficult female to cause uproar in his life? Was he being punished for his transgressions?

His only sin was waging war with the vampires and the dark fae. But he was only protecting the kingdom! If anyone deserved to be punished, it should be Kristoff or his father, or those warlock bandits for constantly robbing the unsuspecting travelers. But no, the gods chose him to punish!

When the last trunk was all carried up in Anastasia's room, Ivan saw the vampire princess tapping her foot on the floor, arms crossed over her chest and looking ethereally lovely in an elven blue dress with her black hair hanging loosely and freely framing her face.

"What?" the vampire princess demanded.

"What's what?" Ivan asked innocently.

"You've been staring at my face weirdly," she answered. "Careful elf, you might fall in love with me if you keep on doing that. We don't want that to happen now, do we?"

The corner of Ivan's lips tilted to one side. Sassy little brat. One day, he would strip her of her cockiness. But it was not only her cockiness he wanted to strip from her body. One day.

He saw her rolling her eyes and instead of throwing another barb at him, she went to the two females standing on the other side of the room.

"Erien, Lucya," Anastasia started. "Thank you so much for your help. Now, why don't we call it a night—or a day, or whatever term is appropriate—and let's have some snooze, I mean sleep." The elf servant seemed to want to give her protest when Ivan heard Anastasia say, "No buts. I will be sleeping the entire day, most probably, so I won't need any lady's maid. Now you two go and get some sleep." Having no other choice but to obey, the two lady's maid made their curtsies and went out of the room.

He saw Anastasia crouching down and heaved the lid of her trunk open, absolutely ignoring his entire presence as if he was invisible. She continued to rummage on her luggage, oblivious of him standing at the side. After their last encounter—on her bed, to be precise—he avoided seeing her for the last three days. But he knew that she was sneaking glances at him whenever she was at her balcony, pretending to admire the mountains beyond the green meadows. And no matter how hard he tried to ignore her or to place a great distance between them, he just couldn't stay away from her that long. Granted, she was a vampire—a faction he detested the most—but he enjoyed her sassy comments and the ingenious insults she would throw at him. And he enjoyed seeing her slightly quiver with nervousness every time he placed his charms on the action and tried to seduce her. And he enjoyed very much the view of her chest rising and falling from panting after a long and torrid kiss.

His lips tilted to one corner upon remembering that kiss. Maybe he needed to make a repeat of that kiss. Now.

He saw Anastasia's brows form a scowl on her face. "Why are you still here?" she demanded, still crouched down before the trunk.

"Where else would I be?"

"Try hell."

He gave her a smirk. "I just passed by to visit you. A little bird told me you missed me."

She stood and eyed him levelly. "Tell me where that little bird is right now. I will shoot it with my slingshot."

He gave her a small laugh. He really did enjoy her responses. "Have pity on that poor little bird. You cannot punish any living creature from merely stating the truth. My men and I would often see you standing on the balcony clearly admiring the elves in their training—one elf in particular," he answered, giving her a knowing look.

"Ha! As if! Even if you'd pay me with all the gold in the world, I will never waste my time to spare you a glance, bud." She whirled around and approached her bed to sit. "Even if you were the highest-paid actor in the world, I would not waste my money buying tickets to see your movie. Unless, of course, if Chris Evans was in it, and you're the bad guy in the movie. Oh! I would love to see you get your butt kicked!"

"Who is Chris Evans?" He had heard her mention that name before.

"My boyfriend back home," Anastasia answered, looking slightly amused.

It was now his turn to scowl at her. "I don't believe you." But what if what she said was the truth?

She gave him a shrug. "Whatever. Believe whatever you want."

He made a mental note to investigate who this Chris Evans was. If what she said was the truth, then he might give this Chris Evans person a visit with his right fist breaking his nose as a gift from Ivan.

"Until when are you going to keep me here?" Anastasia suddenly asked, drawing him away from his imagination of knocking Chris Evan's teeth.

"Until I say so," he answered curtly.

"But I want to go out! I've been cooped up in this room for the last six days or so. I will be having my transition next week and then I will be avoiding the sun or else die." She gave a wistful sigh. "I want to see what's out there, enjoy the day—enjoy the sun—before it'll be all taken away from me."

Seeing her looking like that—sad and desperate at the same time—made his heart feel a tinge of pain. But why would he feel that way? So, what if she would never see the sun? Was that his problem? No. She was nothing to him, except as a future bride he planned on executing his vengeance on. But then again, why did he have this urge to please her and make her smile? That couldn't be right. He shouldn't have come here. Having her near him made him feel strange things he would rather not feel at all.

"That is not my problem anymore," he said brusquely and took long strides out of the room as he forced his thoughts about Anastasia away from his mind.