Bride To His Darkness
Chapter 41: Discomfort Of The Dress

Chapter 41: Discomfort Of The Dress

{Music Recommendation: Wildest Dreams by Duomo}

Taking Samantha away from the dumb-stricken prince Nichole, the young woman’s heart skipped a beat, but it was one filled with fear, surprise, anticipation and a tinge of anger. She had only come down to get some food, but this man! His actions tonight would definitely draw the attention she had been trying so hard to avoid. They hadn’t even started dancing yet, and some of the guests were already eyeing them.

"Cursing me silently?" Ivan’s honeyed voice made Samantha hide her glare. He stopped walking and turned to look at her. "Were you expecting me to seek permission?"

"I just wanted...."

"To have a conversation with some Prince? Is that your next plan for escape?" His red eyes staring intensely into hers only made Samantha gulp down her retort.

"Little Lamb, will you dance with me?" He asked, and Samantha’s heart involuntarily sped up. She felt her cheeks flush, and her eyes widened in their sockets. Samantha didn’t want to believe he was asking her to dance merely because he felt like it, no matter how he said it, or how gentlemanly he acted, no matter how compelling it felt, she knew he had ulterior motives behind asking her for a dance tonight.

But what could it be?

"Of.... Of course, my Lord." She stammered, amazed at herself for saying anything coherent, and to her greatest awe, she noticed the way his lips curved into a slight smile.

Holding her tender palm firmly in his gloved hand, he led Samantha to the dance floor that was occupied with some of the guests who were already dancing. So far, no one’s attention had drifted towards her, and she felt glad that no one was paying close attention to her and Ivan....yet.

Stopping in the middle of the dance floor amidst the soft notes of the orchestra. Ivan’s gloved hands led Samantha’s hand to his shoulder, placing it there, and his own hand slithered around her tiny waist, pulling her close, whilst their other hand was firmly entwined.

Samantha’s pupils dilated when she realized he was doing this on purpose. That foxy look in his eyes, he only stared at her that way when he wanted to plot something that would embarrass her.

"I hope your waltz is as good as your dance." He taunted, further leaving Samantha flustered till they started moving on the dance floor. By this time, the guests, who had never seen the Prince dance with a female before, were left speechless by the sight, so much so that they gave him some space. Alistair, who was enjoying himself in a corner with Tobias by his side, nearly spilled his drink on Tobias who hit him with a slight glare.

"Has Ivan found himself a bride?" Alistair asked his brother whose gaze had shifted to Ivan, and he hummed. "Isn’t that his blood servant?"

Noticing the gazes that were now fixed on them, Samantha’s nerves made her steps clumsy and awkward, but the Vampire Lord, who took notice, perfectly maneuvered her around.

"Have you ever been asked out by a man before?" The prince questioned as they twirled around. Samantha’s face had the urge to show her spite for this man, but she half-smiled and said. "Unfortunately, I’ve been too busy working as a slave and receiving services in a Brothel. I wasn’t able to interact with sensible men."

Samantha clutched his arm tightly so she wouldn’t stumble.

"Are you comfortable? Seems to me you are not fond of the dress." Ivan calmly remarked, noticing her fidgeting, and Samantha wanted to blame him for making her wear it in the first place, but at the same time, she felt really embarrassed that he had noticed, since most girls her age were already accustomed to dresses like this.

Although her life before the slave establishment wasn’t completely perfect, this type of thing never bothered her. She didn’t have time to think about dresses when she had a Father and a younger brother to care for and feed. Making sure her younger brother was able to receive proper education had been half of her responsibility alongside her Father, so dresses, ornaments, she didn’t have time to think about all of those.

"I’m not used to wearing gowns like this." She simply told him, her cheeks reddening in pure embarrassment, but Lord Ivan only hummed and and twirled her forward once more, making the hem of her dress swish elegantly, and then she twirled back to the point her back met his chest.

"You look lovely, nonetheless," he told her, "and your discomfort makes you look cuter." His tone, which was normally cold, sounded velvety, and more pleasant to her ears.

Samantha couldn’t believe he just said that, but when he turned her to face him as they regained their earlier position, the look in his eyes was even harder to read. She felt something flutter inside her as they continued to dance until the song ended.

They parted with the usual bow, and Ivan’s gaze followed the woman as she walked away with quick steps, her lousy attempt to run away from him. Watching her hurry to the buffet table where Prince Nichole patiently waited for her, his expression frowned, but then it took a while for him to realize that she wasn’t interested in the prince, but the food.

Stopping one of the servants, Ivan reached for a glass drink that was being carried in a tray. As his gaze continued to watch the woman, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something special about her. He felt it the first time he saw her, and he couldn’t forget her face since then. Maybe it was just the novelty of her, but he felt drawn to her in ways he couldn’t explain.

He had never felt this way in a long time, and this feeling strangely unnerved him.

"I hate this." Muttering his annoyance, he gulped down his drink in one go, feeling more pissed with himself. One of the courtiers approached him, and Ivan decided to spend his time indulging in conversations with these people, this way, she wouldn’t find her way into his head.

Princess Claire, who didn’t miss the little show, gritted her teeth in anger, and Ivy, who quietly stood beside her, was also not happy with what she had witnessed. She and Ivan were undeniably close, but not once has he offered to dance with her, but he proudly showed off his blood servant to a crowd of aristocrats.

"That servant!" Claire let out a disdainful huff before folding her arms, "I missed tonight’s soiree all because of that servant. Why do I feel Ivan did this majorly to spite me? Dancing with a servant... if Grandmother was here, I wonder if he’d still be brave to do something so outlandish." She arched a brow, finding Ivan’s behavior unusual and suspicious.

"Maybe he’s bored?" Ivy simply guessed, not willing to believe what her mind had suggested as the truth. "Now I feel better for turning down his proposal, I really won’t be able to handle this." Ivy’s lips twitched in displeasure, unable to hide her jealousy, and then her eyes widened.

"Isn’t that prince Nichole?" Ivy blurted out, and when Claire looked in the direction of the buffet table, her eyes impulsively widened to see the Prince she had been following for years now, speak with a lowly servant. The way he kept staring and smiling at the servant as they indulged in small talks aggravated Claire, and her hands balled into tight fists at her side.

"No, I won’t accept this!"

"You can’t go down there." Ivy reminded her, "the marks on your skin are yet to fade, and it will be wise to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. Let her be for now."

Feeling irritated by the sight, Claire stormed off, heading back to her room, and Ivy’s glaring gaze lingered on the servant for a while before she also left the top of the stairs.

Since Ivan had to retire to his room early, he informed Abdiel about it so he could stay with the guests. When he looked around the crowd that still had the energy to mingle, Ivan waved Alistair and Tobias goodnight before going up the stairs.

Alistair, who was busy savoring the blood of his female blood servant, pulled back to meet Tobias disinterested gaze. "Slow down, or you might drain her completely." Tobias warned.

"She likes it." Alistair’s crimson eyes shifted to the blurry eyes of the beautiful dark-haired woman he had cornered against the wall, and the lust in her eyes seemed to have intensified. "Don’t you?"

The young woman nodded in response, and Tobias turned his attention to other things. Once again, he’s reminded why he hates celebrations and events.