The Prince's Pet Read Online Free PDF

down.
    I got to my feet as he opened
the heavy door in front of us, using a key from his belt. He stood holding the
door, and curtly gestured for me to enter.

Chapter
3
    I walked through the doorway,
keeping my head down and squeezing past the prince, careful not to touch him.
He took a final look out into the hallway, checking in both directions before
closing the door and locking it from the inside.
    I stood looking around in awe.
This room was almost as large as my family home had been. There was a round
dining table and four chairs of fine carved wood. A fire crackled in a hearth,
fronted by a stuffed chair and a long divan. The windows were dark, draped in
heavy red curtains.
    The soft glow of lantern light
filled the room and made a cozy atmosphere. Intricately woven tapestries hung
on the walls and thick patterned rugs lay on the floor. A short hallway
branched off from this main room, but I couldn't see what was down there.
    I turned back and saw the prince
was looking at me. His gaze traveled up my body and lingered on my scarcely
covered chest for a moment. He met my eyes unashamed, and I felt my face begin
to burn. I folded my arms in front of me, shielding my breasts.
    Prince Issander cleared his throat,
and I felt pressure from the chain pulling at my collar. I jumped as if
scolded, and moved my arms away, clasping my hands before me and bowing my head
in a submissive pose. But he only stepped close, and reached out to unclasp the
chain.
    As he stood in front of me I
noticed again how tall he was, my head only reaching to his shoulders. I felt
tiny and fragile next to him, and I tensed as he worked the clasp, trembling.
    He smelled of horse and sweat
and leather, and warm skin. It was not unpleasant. And I couldn't help but
notice the way the muscles of his arms flexed and moved, and his dark hair fell
in front of his face. It was dark, but streaked with lighter brown so that it
was impossible to describe the color.
    He seemed to take his time – or
maybe it only felt that way. When he was done he took the chain away. I raised
my hand unconsciously to touch the collar that rested against my skin. It felt
lighter now. But why had he unchained me? Was he going to send me away after
all? I looked up, ready to ask, but stopped short. He was gazing at me
shrewdly, searching my face. He had a look in his eye that was wholly
unfamiliar – like curiosity mixed with... what? Desire?
    He turned away, and I let out
the breath I'd been holding.
    “Eat.” He said, pointing to the
side-table where a large bowl of fruit sat. Somehow I'd missed it before, but
at the sight of it now my stomach let out a growl. “Go on.” He said,
impatiently.
    I didn’t need to be told again -
practically running to the bowl and taking an apple. I bit into it with relish,
and in several huge mouthfuls the apple was down to its core. I started on some
of the other fruit – it was small and brown and shriveled but as I bit into it
I found it was surprisingly rich and sweet. I made a sound of pleasure as I
chewed, forgetting to be modest as I brought piece after piece to my mouth.
    “I will have something more
substantial brought up.” The prince said, pulling on a chain by the door. He
sat at the small round table, pushing aside a pile of papers and stretching his
long legs out before him. As I ate, he continued to watch me.
    There was a knock at the door,
and Issander stood and opened it. A young boy stood without, standing at
attention. He wore an iron collar. I stood with my back to the side-table, still
chewing on fruit. The slave boy was about fifteen, and very curious about what
was going on in the room behind Issander.
    “I will take my meal in my rooms
tonight.” The prince said, leaning slightly to capture the boy’s attention as
he noticed his eyes drift to look over his shoulder at the room beyond. “A
double portion. I have worked up an appetite today.”
    “Yes Highness,” the slave
answered. He bowed, and skittered