Sixty-three: Don't care what your genes say
Kiran came in to sit next to me and stroked my face and hair. It was kind of a nice feeling, but at the same time, it made me feel a bit like a domesticated cat. Despite his gentle fingers, he was not pleased.
"I told them and told them. It took them this long to go investigate and it was a close call. You might have died in there. Your friend, Mr Raring - Alistair, is a man of his word though. At least when I finally managed to pin him down, he promised to get to the bottom of things and actually followed through. I don't think much of his partner though," Kiran ranted and then softened. "I'm glad we've got him and not his idiot of a partner. You should have seen Alistair's surprise when he discovered that he's actually a full blooded Bosky. Of noble descent, no less. Related to the royal family. Old Rutilant will be interested to hear about it - they're relatives. Not many of the royal family survived the wars. And you, twice royal, but a slave? Huh. You're definitely worthy enough to be my queen, not that I was going to care what your genes said."
I closed my eyes and wondered when they would feed me. At least with Kiran here, I knew I was safe. Why I trusted him so much, I wasn't entirely sure myself. I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up again, Kiran was gone.
My stomach growled and I sat up to discover to my shock that I was naked. I clutched the blanket to me and looked around the neat room. I was in a different room from before, but still had a line going into my arm. The bed was made up of thin foam mats on the floor. Surprisingly comfortable and wide enough for two people to lay side by side. A second blanket lay spread out beside me. Lightheadedness assaulted me and I closed my eyes to try and prevent the swaying motion from turning into a falling one.
"Jean. Jean, you're awake. Are you all right?" footsteps hurried across the carpet and someone sat next to me, putting an arm around my shoulders to hold me up.
"Just dizzy," I muttered and felt the familiar pain of hunger gnawing at my stomach as the lightheadedness faded. Also, my bladder was full. "I'm all right now," I opened my eyes to look into Kiran's concerned ones. "I gotta go to the toilet."
"All right," he said, wrapping me tightly in my blanket and then picking me up, seemingly effortlessly. The IV bag was put in my lap. "You're not allowed to walk on your feet yet, so I'll carry you," he smiled at my squeak of surprise and kissed my equally surprised forehead that must have burned bright red after the kiss. I felt the flush of the blush. "After that, we'll go and eat. Or rather, I'll bring you food. We haven't any clothes for you yet. Nothing that would fit, anyway. The Doc is sewing an old blanket into a dress for you for now, until our next supplies arrive."
He sat me on a toilet, closing the cubicle door with him still inside with me, one hand holding me as well as the IV bag and turned his face away.
"Umm," I said, remembering the last time I was in a similar position. "Sorry, Kiran, but uh, could you please wait outside?"
"Are you sure you'll be all right?" he asked, concern creasing his brow.
"Yes," I said, catching the blanket before it fell off my shoulders when he let go.
"Then I'll be right there," he said. "Don't try to stand up on your own. Call me when you're done."
The toilet cubicle door closed again, this time with him on the other side of it, but his arm still inside, holding the IV bag. The door was held shut with his foot. I let loose with a sigh of relief.
While cleaning up, I discovered that I'd been dehaired down there. I checked my armpits. There as well. Pulling up the blanket, I looked at my legs and found they had been dealt with too. Who had touched me? Who had removed all my hair and why? I mean, there hadn't been much of it to start with and not that stripping my hair had improved my looks any, I poked at my sagging flabby skin and breasts. There was nothing to see, anyway. Who would have any interest in this sack of skin and bones?
A brown stripe had appeared on my lower abdomen and I wondered if it was drawn on or natural. Some people I knew had that stripe, although I'd never noticed it on myself before. What did it mean?
A faint memory of Kiran saying he was going to make me his queen made me pause. That had been a proposal, hadn't it? One of the worst proposals ever, considering he hadn't even asked my opinion. And wasn't that his bed I'd woken up in? Had he already touched me? I searched my body for any signs, but could neither feel anything or tell whether I had been raped in my sleep. You'd think a person would be able to tell if someone had done that to them while they were unconscious, right? Somehow I doubted Kiran had touched me in that way. Why would anyone touch a scarecrow like me anyway? I didn't think he was that kind of guy, but who knew?
I wrapped myself back up and called out, "I'm done."
My voice wasn't very loud and it was only on my fifth attempt that he heard me.
Picking me up, he carried me over to the wash basin where he sat me on the bench, holding my blanket around me while I washed my hands. Our eyes met in the mirror and he grinned, showing white, straight teeth. Were I not looking like a scarecrow, I would have thought him beautifully handsome. As it was, he couldn't possibly be interested in me beyond making sure I didn't escape. Maybe I reminded him of a little sister or something. Maybe he was just a decent guy who cared that I hadn't been treated well in the Compound.
But I remembered how he had confessed his love and dream to marry me before in the park. What was I going to do? What should I do?
On the way back to the room, it struck me that this place was very familiar. If it weren't for the sparse decorations and that I was seeing things from a different height and angle, I could have sworn this was my workplace and my new bedroom had once been Boss's office. See, there were little holes in the wall where there had once been a poster painting of a flower and that there was the interview room with the bent ventilation grill in the door.