Bound to the Prince by Deborah Court Page B

When she slid the musky smelling soap
over her belly and hips she couldn’t help but notice that she
seemed to have lost some weight. Elathan's training seemed to have
a good effect on her body, although it hurt like hell. If she ever
managed to flee from this place, she would make a lot of money with
a pole fighting workout DVD, she thought, grinning.
    Her muscles ached, but in a good way. She
felt them tight and strong under her skin when she moved. Actually,
her body felt good, for the first time in months. Igraine almost
felt … beautiful, especially when the prince touched her.
    No, she was foolish indeed to think of
herself as beautiful. How could a man like this, elf or human, even
look at her? She was sure that the passionate moment on the floor
had been caused by the excitement of the fight, but it also was
Elathan’s way of humiliating her. After he had left, she had rolled
to her side on the floor, feeling weak and crying with unfulfilled
desire. Without a doubt, he could use her for his sexual needs like
any slave, but he didn't really want her. And who could blame him?
He just was too perfect, too beautiful. If an elven man looked like
this, she could imagine how flawless the women of his kind must be.
Before he left, Elathan had clearly shown how much he despised her.
He had cruelly mocked her while she was so vulnerable, when she
wanted him so much, needed him desperately.
    Earlier she had seen that the elf had left
new clothes for her on the foot of the bed, so she put them on. The
garment was a knee-length, sleeveless dress made of soft, dark
green linen with tight fitting pants and a wide leather belt. It
fitted snugly but hugged her curves surprisingly tightly, and was
cut so low that a good portion of her bosom was revealed. After she
was fully dressed, she looked around and found a fine ivory comb
and a thin leather band, so she could arrange her still-wet hair
into a ponytail. There was some kind of rough sponge which she
believed was intended as a toothbrush, so she tried and was
surprised how clean her teeth felt afterwards. As a natural urge
made her look around the cavern, to her surprise she discovered a
smaller cave with a wooden door in one corner, which contained a
marble privy with an underground stream flowing beneath it. The
Devil's Society seemed to have provided their secret meeting place
with many amenities, indeed.
    Igraine's belief that Elathan hated her was
confirmed when the hours passed without Elathan returning to her
prison chamber. Even the following day and the next she didn't see
him at all, but magically found fresh food and water on the table
whenever she woke up from a deep, dreamless sleep. Remembering the
elf's lesson, she started to practice pole fighting by herself and
had the feeling that she improved quickly. After that, she grabbed
one of the swords and tried to swing it in a way that looked like
fighting to her. At first she went to the weapon rack out of
boredom. Later, she noticed that she actually enjoyed feeling her
body become stronger day by day. After what she estimated to be a
week, she should have gone mad staying in her candle-lit cell, not
having a single window. Luckily, her days were filled with hard
exercise and after that, she was so tired that she slept deeply
until morning. She was glad that she was kept from thinking too
much about Elathan this way.
    One night, however, she suddenly awakened
from a deep, exhausted sleep. It was pitch dark in the cave. All
the candles had burned down. Igraine sat up, wondering what had
caused her to wake up. She couldn’t hear a sound. But there was
something in the darkness, watching, preying on her. She nodded to
herself. Obviously, she was to die in this dark hole. But she would
make sure that at least it would happen while she was on her feet,
facing her death. She wouldn't die while lying helplessly on the
floor. Her knees were shaking, but she managed to get up and stand
there, motionless and quiet like a