Ch. 40
“Sign”
Zanir took my advice and went to my bathing chambers... to freshen up. Thank Nyx, can’t have someone I vouching for to be a bloody mess, although that is usually how I like my men, no my friends, no, fuck.
I need to figure out what in the world I am going to wear to this dinner. Nyx, can this night just be over already. I know Mother has been setting this up for at least a few days. Mother and Chaila would probably appreciate a nice frilly royal dress, that Nyx herself would gag in, but screams Mother is the queen and I am her only child, her only daughter, the princess. Fucking gross. I know Mother has invited some other officials. I overheard some of the royal staff blabbing as I marched my way to my wing of the castle earlier.
I stand looking in my armoire. Full of dresses, shirts, and clothing full of colors, textures, and too much stuff in general. I never wanted all this stuff. I push aside some dresses. “Oh, Nyx…” I land on a surprising midnight black flowy dress, with laced sleeves, and an open back. One I haven’t seen before. I reach for it and noticed a note attached to…
Mihaela,
I know your Mother is always wanting you to wear dresses. Even though I know you despise them. I found this one on my last mission. Try it out. Your favorite Red Head
Grigore
Oh, Grigore.
I must have missed him while I was gone. I wonder where Mother sent him to now. Unless he was in the dungeon, again, but given Mother overall mood, I doubt it. She always eased up a bit when he was around even if he was sent to the dungeons. I wonder if he is why no one was sent to retrieve me for a few days.
Grigore is like that fun uncle. I guessing, I don’t have any uncles, so I am just assuming he is what a fun uncle would be. He always told me, Mother was just being hard on me because she loved me and wanted to protect me, but he is also the one who taught me to throw rocks before daggers. I miss him. I haven’t seen him in months. I hope he isn’t gone too long this time.
I smile as I run my fingers over the satin material. My fingers are a light faded purple. Finger marks linger around my wrist. Thankfully this dress has long lace-like sleeves to cover them. The lace has a pattern of a snake crawling up the arms. Oh, Grigore. He knows Mother hates snakes. Sly, sly man.
I slip the dress on and am surprised that it hugs my curves. What little curves I have. I twirl in the mirror, and I don’t remember the last time I wore a dress that I actually liked. The back is open, and the runes Mother gave me when I was younger are visible, so is the Serpopard tail’s dancing on the edges of the open back, faint white scars of the Baldur’s teeth, and the burns from the wards are also peeking out. I grab the hem and twirl again while looking in the mirror. This is such an odd feeling. I have always been rough and rugged, so being in a dress first off is impressive, and second, the fact I feel good in it is unusual. I don’t feel like my crazy powers are trying to overtake me. I don’t feel like a trapped child. I don’t’ feel overwhelmed with everything. I just feel pretty.
I hear something hit the floor in my bathing chambers. I can hear Zanir rummaging through something…my stuff. Um, invasion of privacy, the fuck. I take a deep breath in…and out.
I use my wind to open my bathing chamber door, the wooden door rattles.
“Time’s up.”
He comes strolling out. Unbothered. That nonchalant character mask moving over him completely. A new smell, but also a familiar one smell fills my nose. He now smells like he got into some of my oils before coming out. Who does he think he is? Is it his sole job now to get on my nerves? I am reminded of what Oana said earlier. Was he trying to cover his smell? Our smell? This new smell that is going on. Nyx darkness, fucking shit. This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. “Did you use my oils?” I finally ask.
“The lavender and lemon, keep doing that, I like that. Also why does one with the power to wield fire, wind, and sometimes ice, need like twelve daggers?” He moves his hands across his shirt trying to unwrinkle the hem. A rim of blood on the collar of his shirt. Good. If I didn’t like how lavender and lemon smelled together, I would just request different oils just because he said he liked them. Gag.
“It is five…” I motion my head to the opal dagger that still sticks in the wooden post of my bed. “Plus that one. Never know when I’ll need to remind someone that my skills go beyond just my powers.” I glance back to the mirror and move my hands over the fabric, again. It is like velvet on my skin. “Plus, I have certain daggers for certain parts.” My damp hair leaving faint water drops across my spine.
“Your crystal dagger, I like that one. She’s out for blood.” So do I and yes, I agree, but it’s the wielder not the weapon that causes harm. I am debating if I should pick a new favorite dagger now. He is talking too much, and I am thinking too much. “I brushed my teeth, too.” He says with a smirk but doesn’t look up from his shirt.
“You did not.” Who does this man think he is? We are not buddies or pals. I will murder him, have him healed, and murder him again. I mean I am all for good hygiene, but I am going to have to burn my toothbrush now.
His eyes finally shoot to me as he is standing at the edge of the bed now. Only a few feet behind me. I can see him in the mirror. His eyes change as we stand there. Deep cerulean to a fiery orange. Thirsty. Nyx…
Little bat…His voice rings through my skull. His voice drawing out the syllables.
I can’t turn around. I feel my chest start to rinse and fall. My heart is racing. A warmth starts in my core. I can feel his graze. I can feel him. Mint fills my nose with a hint of lemon. Coldness crawling up my arms. Why? No, Nyx, I was kidding. Fucking shit.
Just because you are behind me doesn’t mean I can’t feel you staring, and it is rude to stare. I can actively see him, feel his eyes. Up and down. A subtle tug on the edges of his mouth, as he uses his teeth to try and contain it, biting.
Litte bat…just add that to my growing debt to your wrath… His voice slow and lingering within my skull.
I manage to turn around of my heels, finishing the spin I was doing admiring myself for the first time in a long time, and him doing the same is not something I am ready to deal with yet. I move to the bed post and remove my opal dagger place in a hoister I attached to my thigh before leaving my bathing chambers, then turn to him. I raise my finger to my temple, the one with the bond he gave, that middle finger running down the side of my face. “Get. Out.”
The fire in his eyes burns brighter as my finger finishes along my jawline. Vicious, vicious little bat you are…
I play dirty, Zanir. I will make you wish we hadn’t met that night in the endless forest.
Nyx, what is wrong with me? I am playing with fire and if I am not careful, or I will get burned…more so I will be the one doing the burning or freezing is more like it.
A growl echoes inside my skull, if I didn’t have a mortal eager vampire man in front of me while I wore a dark tight-fitted dress, I would have thought it was Kiza…who has been awfully quiet lately, which is strange.
Oh, little bat…
There is a heat rising inside me and I can feel it battling the coldness the dances with the snakes laced on my sleeves. The warmth isn’t mine, no it is…his. Is this another way we are connected? Nyx, we won’t be able to be in the same room let alone in the grand hall with who knows who else. Nyx, if our smell can be smelled. Shit. I need more oils.
I would suggest asking Iamys for a decent pair of clothing. Mother’s dinners are usually pretty formal. I don’t want to outshine you.
I need to change the subject, he needs to leave. Nyx. I need Oana to save me. I glance to the doorway. I can faintly hear her and Iamys talking, but my locket is in my bathing chambers. Shit.
Zanir is now leaning against one of the bed posts, staring. I tilt me head. I could literally destroy this man in seconds, even though most of daggers are in the bathroom, and I am in a dress… one that I would like to keep in one piece, too. The heat grows. Think, think.
I take a deep breath, and I see Zanir’s eye flash. I guess he knows what happens after that. May not be expecting entirely what I am planning though.
Ch. 40
“Sign”
Zanir took my advice and went to my bathing chambers... to freshen up. Thank Nyx, can’t have someone I vouching for to be a bloody mess, although that is usually how I like my men, no my friends, no, fuck.
I need to figure out what in the world I am going to wear to this dinner. Nyx, can this night just be over already. I know Mother has been setting this up for at least a few days. Mother and Chaila would probably appreciate a nice frilly royal dress, that Nyx herself would gag in, but screams Mother is the queen and I am her only child, her only daughter, the princess. Fucking gross. I know Mother has invited some other officials. I overheard some of the royal staff blabbing as I marched my way to my wing of the castle earlier.
I stand looking in my armoire. Full of dresses, shirts, and clothing full of colors, textures, and too much stuff in general. I never wanted all this stuff. I push aside some dresses. “Oh, Nyx…” I land on a surprising midnight black flowy dress, with laced sleeves, and an open back. One I haven’t seen before. I reach for it and noticed a note attached to…
Mihaela,
I know your Mother is always wanting you to wear dresses. Even though I know you despise them. I found this one on my last mission. Try it out. Your favorite Red Head
Grigore
Oh, Grigore.
I must have missed him while I was gone. I wonder where Mother sent him to now. Unless he was in the dungeon, again, but given Mother overall mood, I doubt it. She always eased up a bit when he was around even if he was sent to the dungeons. I wonder if he is why no one was sent to retrieve me for a few days.
Grigore is like that fun uncle. I guessing, I don’t have any uncles, so I am just assuming he is what a fun uncle would be. He always told me, Mother was just being hard on me because she loved me and wanted to protect me, but he is also the one who taught me to throw rocks before daggers. I miss him. I haven’t seen him in months. I hope he isn’t gone too long this time.
I smile as I run my fingers over the satin material. My fingers are a light faded purple. Finger marks linger around my wrist. Thankfully this dress has long lace-like sleeves to cover them. The lace has a pattern of a snake crawling up the arms. Oh, Grigore. He knows Mother hates snakes. Sly, sly man.
I slip the dress on and am surprised that it hugs my curves. What little curves I have. I twirl in the mirror, and I don’t remember the last time I wore a dress that I actually liked. The back is open, and the runes Mother gave me when I was younger are visible, so is the Serpopard tail’s dancing on the edges of the open back, faint white scars of the Baldur’s teeth, and the burns from the wards are also peeking out. I grab the hem and twirl again while looking in the mirror. This is such an odd feeling. I have always been rough and rugged, so being in a dress first off is impressive, and second, the fact I feel good in it is unusual. I don’t feel like my crazy powers are trying to overtake me. I don’t feel like a trapped child. I don’t’ feel overwhelmed with everything. I just feel pretty.
I hear something hit the floor in my bathing chambers. I can hear Zanir rummaging through something…my stuff. Um, invasion of privacy, the fuck. I take a deep breath in…and out.
I use my wind to open my bathing chamber door, the wooden door rattles.
“Time’s up.”
He comes strolling out. Unbothered. That nonchalant character mask moving over him completely. A new smell, but also a familiar one smell fills my nose. He now smells like he got into some of my oils before coming out. Who does he think he is? Is it his sole job now to get on my nerves? I am reminded of what Oana said earlier. Was he trying to cover his smell? Our smell? This new smell that is going on. Nyx darkness, fucking shit. This just keeps getting weirder and weirder. “Did you use my oils?” I finally ask.
“The lavender and lemon, keep doing that, I like that. Also why does one with the power to wield fire, wind, and sometimes ice, need like twelve daggers?” He moves his hands across his shirt trying to unwrinkle the hem. A rim of blood on the collar of his shirt. Good. If I didn’t like how lavender and lemon smelled together, I would just request different oils just because he said he liked them. Gag.
“It is five…” I motion my head to the opal dagger that still sticks in the wooden post of my bed. “Plus that one. Never know when I’ll need to remind someone that my skills go beyond just my powers.” I glance back to the mirror and move my hands over the fabric, again. It is like velvet on my skin. “Plus, I have certain daggers for certain parts.” My damp hair leaving faint water drops across my spine.
“Your crystal dagger, I like that one. She’s out for blood.” So do I and yes, I agree, but it’s the wielder not the weapon that causes harm. I am debating if I should pick a new favorite dagger now. He is talking too much, and I am thinking too much. “I brushed my teeth, too.” He says with a smirk but doesn’t look up from his shirt.
“You did not.” Who does this man think he is? We are not buddies or pals. I will murder him, have him healed, and murder him again. I mean I am all for good hygiene, but I am going to have to burn my toothbrush now.
His eyes finally shoot to me as he is standing at the edge of the bed now. Only a few feet behind me. I can see him in the mirror. His eyes change as we stand there. Deep cerulean to a fiery orange. Thirsty. Nyx…
Little bat…His voice rings through my skull. His voice drawing out the syllables.
I can’t turn around. I feel my chest start to rinse and fall. My heart is racing. A warmth starts in my core. I can feel his graze. I can feel him. Mint fills my nose with a hint of lemon. Coldness crawling up my arms. Why? No, Nyx, I was kidding. Fucking shit.
Just because you are behind me doesn’t mean I can’t feel you staring, and it is rude to stare. I can actively see him, feel his eyes. Up and down. A subtle tug on the edges of his mouth, as he uses his teeth to try and contain it, biting.
Litte bat…just add that to my growing debt to your wrath… His voice slow and lingering within my skull.
I manage to turn around of my heels, finishing the spin I was doing admiring myself for the first time in a long time, and him doing the same is not something I am ready to deal with yet. I move to the bed post and remove my opal dagger place in a hoister I attached to my thigh before leaving my bathing chambers, then turn to him. I raise my finger to my temple, the one with the bond he gave, that middle finger running down the side of my face. “Get. Out.”
The fire in his eyes burns brighter as my finger finishes along my jawline. Vicious, vicious little bat you are…
I play dirty, Zanir. I will make you wish we hadn’t met that night in the endless forest.
Nyx, what is wrong with me? I am playing with fire and if I am not careful, or I will get burned…more so I will be the one doing the burning or freezing is more like it.
A growl echoes inside my skull, if I didn’t have a mortal eager vampire man in front of me while I wore a dark tight-fitted dress, I would have thought it was Kiza…who has been awfully quiet lately, which is strange.
Oh, little bat…
There is a heat rising inside me and I can feel it battling the coldness the dances with the snakes laced on my sleeves. The warmth isn’t mine, no it is…his. Is this another way we are connected? Nyx, we won’t be able to be in the same room let alone in the grand hall with who knows who else. Nyx, if our smell can be smelled. Shit. I need more oils.
I would suggest asking Iamys for a decent pair of clothing. Mother’s dinners are usually pretty formal. I don’t want to outshine you.
I need to change the subject, he needs to leave. Nyx. I need Oana to save me. I glance to the doorway. I can faintly hear her and Iamys talking, but my locket is in my bathing chambers. Shit.
Zanir is now leaning against one of the bed posts, staring. I tilt me head. I could literally destroy this man in seconds, even though most of daggers are in the bathroom, and I am in a dress… one that I would like to keep in one piece, too. The heat grows. Think, think.
I take a deep breath, and I see Zanir’s eye flash. I guess he knows what happens after that. May not be expecting entirely what I am planning though.
