Legend of the Auruman- Chapter Six

Chapter Six

“This will be your bedchamber, you should find everything you should need in the wardrobe, but if you should need anything else, you need only ask.” Jameson offered, gesturing inside the room. It was as different from the room she’d woken up in as it could possibly be, he knew. The room was outfitted with a large wood framed bed, intricately carved and stained with the blood of an Azarath warrior. Not that Jameson planned on explaining that to Sydney, somehow he thought she wouldn’t appreciate the knowledge. In addition to the bed, there was a massive wardrobe that had been prepared for her arrival, and was filled with garments sufficient for any outing she might endeavor to participate in. Including a nightdress to be worn as enticement for mating activities. On that note, he wasn’t much pleased with his seeming lack of progress.

          Sydney was standing in the middle of the elaborate bedroom feeling a wave of nausea, accompanied by pangs of panic, and far too much emotion. It wasn’t easy going mad, she decided, which was a real shame. If she had to go insane, one would think one should have a bit of fun along the way.

          She hated to admit it, but she was feeling tired, which she shouldn’t be, seeing as how this was a dream. One didn’t get tired in dreams, did one? Perhaps a person could get tired in their dream if one dreamed of a crazy golden man who wanted her to tour what seemed like miles of castle. It had all been rather interesting, though she didn’t want to acknowledge that. In this world she’d dreamed up, everything and everyone had a place and a purpose. The people didn’t seem to know the meaning of superficial, though if the Prince had seemed to give a thought to his extraordinary looks he might have been considered so. He didn’t seem to notice, however, that he was absolutely stunning.

“Have you decided, finally, that you lust for me?” He asked her, seemingly out of nowhere, unless he was a mind-reader, which Sydney refused to countenance. And as to his question, well, he was the exact opposite sort of man she would ever go for, were she doing the selecting. Oddly enough, that didn’t seem to smother the strange feelings he provoked in her. She wouldn’t call it lust, exactly, though in the absence of a better term, it would have to do.

“I see you are experiencing the proper reactions to me, yet you choose to fight it. I am glad. I have admiration for your powers of resistance, yet do I know that when you succumb to me it will be that much sweeter.” His mouth quirked in what Sydney assumed was supposed to be a smile.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Prince. I am not attracted to you.” She lied. “Nor do I plan on “succumbing” to you!” She hoped.

“Lies do not become you lass.” He reproached.

“I am not lying!” She lied.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not, you arrogant ass!” She shouted.

“You will not call me such names, in our bedchamber, no less.” He informed her, superciliously.

“Our bedchamber!” She sputtered.

“Yes, it will be ours, you will share your bed with me willingly when your mind begins to function as it should.” He was calm in the face of her fury, which only angered her more.

“Men, no matter the species are exceedingly stupid! Obtuse! Fools, all of them! You arrogant, ignorant idiot! I have no desire to be in your bed, nor shall I ever change my mind!” She stabbed him in the chest with her fingers, and instantly regretted it. “Jesus Christ! I think I broke my fingers! What are you made of, steel?” He looked about to respond, so she cut him off, declaring, “Nevermind! I don’t want to know.” She bent over holding her injured fingers with her other hand, panting at the pain.
“Let me assist you.”

“Stay away from me. Just go away!”

“I shall not, not when you are in pain.” He lifted her easily off the ground, and placed her gently on the bed. He pried her uninjured hand away and examined the fingers.

“They are sprained, not broken. Still, I imagine it hurts. This desire of yours to gravitate towards violence is troublesome, for you and others. If you are so inclined, to fight with your mate, however, best that you hit with an open palm.” He lectured.

“Well you asked for it.” She used her good hand, and slapped him across his too-handsome face, palm open, just as he’d suggested.