Loveology
CHAPTER 40
You push in on the button. It resists at first but finally clicks into place.
The door is unlocked.
You push it open. It creaks and groans but gives way under your pressure. You step aside the room. Even in broad daylight, this place gives you the spooks. You step inside anyway, your heels clicking against the cracked concrete.
"Hello?" You call out, not really expecting a reply. "Is anybody here?"
You manage to take another step forward before you see a figure out of the corner of your eye. Before you can react, though, an arm snakes around your waist and pulls you against a broad chest. You take a deep breath to scream out, but the man's hand goes to your throat.
"I don't want to hurt you," a voice whispers into your ear with more softness than you expected. "Tell me who sent you, and I'll let you go."
Even in your fear, you can recognize that your captor's hold is loose. He left you a clear escape route, and it wouldn't take much for you to take advantage of it.
You push the thought out of your mind. You don't want the man coming after you. Besides, he doesn't seem to mean you any harm.
"Who are you working for?" he asks again, his breath tickling your ear.
"No one, I swear," you answer in as calm a voice as you can manage. "I was just looking around and found this factory. I don't know who you are. I don't mean you any harm, I swear."
The man says nothing for a moment, considering your words.
"What's your name?" he asks finally.
"Princess Kathleen of Vallasea," you answer immediately. There's no point in your lying. It would only cause further problems.
The man pushes you away, turning you to face him in the process, his strong hands on your shoulders. As he examines you, you do the same to him. His blue eyes peek out from underneath his mop of dark hair, surveying your face to determine who you are. His strong features have no doubt been chiseled by whatever forces led him to accosting young women in abandoned factories.
Satisfied with your identity, he steps back. "Your majesty." His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he bows. You roll your eyes.
"And you are?"
"Dunstan's the name," he says with a mischievous grin. He turns serious when you curtsy for him. "I am sorry for attacking you, ma'am. I, uh, don't have a place to stay," he explains, shame clear in his features. "I've been living here temporarily. Just trying to protect what's mine. I shouldn't have hurt you."
"I'm perfectly alright," you answer sympathetically. "Perhaps... perhaps I can arrange to give you some supplies."
"No, no, ma'am," Dunstan replies. "You don't have to do that."
"Perhaps I want to," you respond with a voice of steel. "Not every man would let a princess walk free after she invaded his home."
He laughs at that.
"Alright, princess," Dunstan says, at ease for the first time since you arrived. "I'll accept your charity. And I hope I'll be seeing a lot more of you."
"Likewise."
You push in on the button. It resists at first but finally clicks into place.
The door is unlocked.
You push it open. It creaks and groans but gives way under your pressure. You step aside the room. Even in broad daylight, this place gives you the spooks. You step inside anyway, your heels clicking against the cracked concrete.
"Hello?" You call out, not really expecting a reply. "Is anybody here?"
You manage to take another step forward before you see a figure out of the corner of your eye. Before you can react, though, an arm snakes around your waist and pulls you against a broad chest. You take a deep breath to scream out, but the man's hand goes to your throat.
"I don't want to hurt you," a voice whispers into your ear with more softness than you expected. "Tell me who sent you, and I'll let you go."
Even in your fear, you can recognize that your captor's hold is loose. He left you a clear escape route, and it wouldn't take much for you to take advantage of it.
You push the thought out of your mind. You don't want the man coming after you. Besides, he doesn't seem to mean you any harm.
"Who are you working for?" he asks again, his breath tickling your ear.
"No one, I swear," you answer in as calm a voice as you can manage. "I was just looking around and found this factory. I don't know who you are. I don't mean you any harm, I swear."
The man says nothing for a moment, considering your words.
"What's your name?" he asks finally.
"Princess Kathleen of Vallasea," you answer immediately. There's no point in your lying. It would only cause further problems.
The man pushes you away, turning you to face him in the process, his strong hands on your shoulders. As he examines you, you do the same to him. His blue eyes peek out from underneath his mop of dark hair, surveying your face to determine who you are. His strong features have no doubt been chiseled by whatever forces led him to accosting young women in abandoned factories.
Satisfied with your identity, he steps back. "Your majesty." His voice is dripping with sarcasm as he bows. You roll your eyes.
"And you are?"
"Dunstan's the name," he says with a mischievous grin. He turns serious when you curtsy for him. "I am sorry for attacking you, ma'am. I, uh, don't have a place to stay," he explains, shame clear in his features. "I've been living here temporarily. Just trying to protect what's mine. I shouldn't have hurt you."
"I'm perfectly alright," you answer sympathetically. "Perhaps... perhaps I can arrange to give you some supplies."
"No, no, ma'am," Dunstan replies. "You don't have to do that."
"Perhaps I want to," you respond with a voice of steel. "Not every man would let a princess walk free after she invaded his home."
He laughs at that.
"Alright, princess," Dunstan says, at ease for the first time since you arrived. "I'll accept your charity. And I hope I'll be seeing a lot more of you."
"Likewise."