Chapter 110: 110
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Fangorn nods to himself, mulling over the facts I have presented him as he runs a finger absently over the rim of his pint glass, chewing the inside of his cheek with a visible frustration. Kal's emotions, however, are not so straight forward. Although his face remains an insufferable mixture of calm and blank thought, his heart pounds, tearing this way and that as the beat rises and falls with that same, unmistakable feeling I have witnessed so many times before. Kal is afraid.
The small white fox stares at Kal from across the room, ears flattened, as if also sensing the fear with swims in Kal's heart, taking it upon himself to tip toe his way across to room to butt his head against the dragons leg, a soft little purr rising up around the room. At once Kal's shoulders relax, his face falling as if suddenly every muscle in his body had lost all tension. It is a peculiar phenomenon to watch, but the lean dragon offers up his gratitude with a half dipped nod nonetheless.
I raise my brow in silent questioning.
"Why would a vampire attack her though, what would they have to gain?" Kal pipes up, pushing around the piece of meat on his plate with the tip of his fork, as though dissatisfaction had pushed him to playing with his food rather than simply chucking it away. There is a distinctly apprehensive twitch in his membranous wings that in the half light of the back room it might be easy to miss, at least to one not so perceptive to such emotions. But a vampire's eyes are keener than a hawk's on the sight of a mouse, so no matter how reserved Kal thinks he is, there are always some emotions that leak through his façade of being 'at ease'. Fortunately, it is Fangorn who answers, granting me a few more precious seconds to survey the unnatural disposition of my hosts.
"To claim Soren's hand in marriage. Without a Queen, perhaps they hoped Soren would take someone else, that his heart would turn as soon as she is dead. I expect they are also outraged by who she is- not a vampire. In fact, I half expected it to come sooner. There have been attempts on her life before?"
I purse my lips, mouth souring with the acrid nature of the memory.
"Plenty," I snarl under my breath. There have been an innumerable amount of attempts on her life this past week alone, the majority of which see has not the faintest idea about- though I would rather keep it that way for now. I have sent several careless vampires to an early demise this week- traitors are not people taken well in Sezeria, especially if they try to directly contend my rule to harm my Queen. One might have expected that by now they would have realised the futility of it all and given up hope of ever trying to gain my hand in marriage, but apparently the idiocy of some creatures surpasses that of even my immortal understanding. But it is no matter, they are all dead now- though it is a rather pitiful waste of life.
Before I can say any more, I am forced to halt myself, pausing to watch the tavern keeper bustle in with three drinks on a platter, throwing open the door with a large crack. The fox scuttles to curl under the table out of sight, perhaps assuming that the tavern keeper would be opposed to the small white fox scampering around his store rooms and presume the worst, but the old, wrinkled man says nothing of it as he swoops down to place our drinks on the table, trailing with him the pungent smell of alcohol and a drunken fever dream. Behind him, the sounds of the tavern echo into existence, previously barred off by the thick wooden door that forms an impermeable barrier to noise and disturbance. Giggling laughs capture in the stagnant air, light and distinctly female, though sounding oddly forced, as if trying to impress someone, or edge further away. The shouts of men have gotten rowdier, bolstered on my the keen influence of alcohol and heavy hours of non stop drinking that can send even the sanest, sharpest mind into a spiralling delusion.
Taverns like these always were wild places to be.
The tavern keep smiles, giving a fond glance to the fox that cowers under the table, despite the sign outside which says in embolden words 'no woodland creatures allowed.' Perhaps he even hand painted those words himself, one might have thought then he would have something to stand by- but it seems even those rules are going to shit. For the sake of politeness, I hide my smirk. People will turn a blind eye to anything given they have the right amount of money.
"Would you like anything else, Sirs, young Prince?" he offers, voice ringing with the indulgent, overly eager notes of someone who is overtly looking for something (likely my generosity), but I dismiss him all the same with a flick of vague acknowledgment.
"No thank you," I say at last, trying my very best to keep the gruff tones of insistence out of my voice. What I would like is to be left alone, I think irritably to myself, but offer a trying smile anyway as I add: "We will call on you if we do,"
At that the man looks pleased, his enthusiasm abated. He nods once, and then twice more.
"Good good," he murmurs to himself, tucking his serving tray under his arm as he rubs his bulbous, red nose, sniffing a little as he dips his head. "Enjoy your drinks."
He leaves without another word. In silence I hand out the drinks I ordered- two blood wines for Fangorn and I, and a sparkling elderflower for Kal -which is more accurately known as just a fancy term for juice with a carbonated fizz. Despite this, Kal has the nerve to look mildly disappointed when I hand it to him, as though expecting something in more likeness to what Fangorn and I now sip between us. I raise my brow at him, urging him to challenge me. Fortunately for him, he decides better of it, sinking back down into his seat with a mixture of grovelling thankfulness for the drink, but at the same time a hint of spite or childish jealousy spikes in his heart as he stares longingly at the alcoholic beverages from across the table. As if he could even hold the alcohol! Even after hundreds of years, Kal never did acquire a stomach for it.
"Ease up on the envy Kal, we both know very well you can't hold your liquor," I say languidly, tipping my glass in his direction as I pose a knowing look over its rim. Kal fold's his arms, the swell of his lip protruding out into a comical pout, stance rigid like a statue, yet the absurd nature of his pose paints him as more of a comedy act than a majestic figurine. At last he straightens his crimson imperial jacket and takes a sip of his beverage, a look of relief swelling over his face at the taste.
I roll my eyes. Typical Kal.
"As I was saying," I start again, swilling the blood wine in my glass as I take another long dredge, suddenly feeling eyes pinpointed in my direction like thousands of little laser beams drilling holes into my body. Despite myself, I shiver a little, hoping to shake off the stares.
"Ever since she came to Sezeria she has been the subject of my people's hatred, jealousy, though I undoubtedly expected this. I presumed it would take several months for the situation to die down, or that they would finally accept the inevitability of it after I had the mating ceremony with her. But she wasn't in the palace that day, I couldn't protect her. I…" I pause for a moment, a sudden thought occurring to me. Hesitantly, I turn to the little fox who has since slinked out from under the table to sit and observe from the corner of the room, but as soon as my gaze turns to him, he stiffens. Panic flits across the dual toned colours of his eyes.
"What were you doing outside my palace, little fox?"
The foxes reply is instant.
We were searching for something, a rare herb that would help block your brother's powers since I am unprotected.
I narrow my eyes sharply at him before swivelling a one-eighty in my seat. Leaning my elbows precariously on the edge of the table I peer momentarily into the scarlet confines of my glass, swilling the thick liquid around the rim before lifting my eyes to the slender dragon boy in front of me. As soon as my golden eyes reach him a thick aura of dread shivers round the room, filling the space between us with a tremulous trepidation so that as we sit there, Kal looks like he would like nothing more than to slink back into the shadows and curl in on himself into a tiny, draconic ball. My nails ping out against the glass, sharp, quick, deadly.
"Kal," I say, slowly enough to cause the little dragon's heart to flutter in his chest with an anxious jitteriness that is a far cry from his usual relaxed exterior. A small bead of sweat forms on the side of his head, the glisten droplet catching faintly under the dark swells of light around the room, trailing a snail's path down the side of his forehead. "I find it rather curious that when I entered the room with my little fox friend here, your heart started to beat faster." I say slyly, slowing down the last few words as I draw them out with a tap for each syllable on the side of my glass, allowing for the rhythmic clink of my nails against the glass to add further weight to each word.. "And why, please do inform me, did your heart suddenly call out the names 'Serena' and 'Ithuriel'? Because last I checked, I thought, no, I was certain, that neither of you had met my fiancée. So what business could she possibly have associating with you?"
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Fangorn nods to himself, mulling over the facts I have presented him as he runs a finger absently over the rim of his pint glass, chewing the inside of his cheek with a visible frustration. Kal's emotions, however, are not so straight forward. Although his face remains an insufferable mixture of calm and blank thought, his heart pounds, tearing this way and that as the beat rises and falls with that same, unmistakable feeling I have witnessed so many times before. Kal is afraid.
The small white fox stares at Kal from across the room, ears flattened, as if also sensing the fear with swims in Kal's heart, taking it upon himself to tip toe his way across to room to butt his head against the dragons leg, a soft little purr rising up around the room. At once Kal's shoulders relax, his face falling as if suddenly every muscle in his body had lost all tension. It is a peculiar phenomenon to watch, but the lean dragon offers up his gratitude with a half dipped nod nonetheless.
I raise my brow in silent questioning.
"Why would a vampire attack her though, what would they have to gain?" Kal pipes up, pushing around the piece of meat on his plate with the tip of his fork, as though dissatisfaction had pushed him to playing with his food rather than simply chucking it away. There is a distinctly apprehensive twitch in his membranous wings that in the half light of the back room it might be easy to miss, at least to one not so perceptive to such emotions. But a vampire's eyes are keener than a hawk's on the sight of a mouse, so no matter how reserved Kal thinks he is, there are always some emotions that leak through his façade of being 'at ease'. Fortunately, it is Fangorn who answers, granting me a few more precious seconds to survey the unnatural disposition of my hosts.
"To claim Soren's hand in marriage. Without a Queen, perhaps they hoped Soren would take someone else, that his heart would turn as soon as she is dead. I expect they are also outraged by who she is- not a vampire. In fact, I half expected it to come sooner. There have been attempts on her life before?"
I purse my lips, mouth souring with the acrid nature of the memory.
"Plenty," I snarl under my breath. There have been an innumerable amount of attempts on her life this past week alone, the majority of which see has not the faintest idea about- though I would rather keep it that way for now. I have sent several careless vampires to an early demise this week- traitors are not people taken well in Sezeria, especially if they try to directly contend my rule to harm my Queen. One might have expected that by now they would have realised the futility of it all and given up hope of ever trying to gain my hand in marriage, but apparently the idiocy of some creatures surpasses that of even my immortal understanding. But it is no matter, they are all dead now- though it is a rather pitiful waste of life.
Before I can say any more, I am forced to halt myself, pausing to watch the tavern keeper bustle in with three drinks on a platter, throwing open the door with a large crack. The fox scuttles to curl under the table out of sight, perhaps assuming that the tavern keeper would be opposed to the small white fox scampering around his store rooms and presume the worst, but the old, wrinkled man says nothing of it as he swoops down to place our drinks on the table, trailing with him the pungent smell of alcohol and a drunken fever dream. Behind him, the sounds of the tavern echo into existence, previously barred off by the thick wooden door that forms an impermeable barrier to noise and disturbance. Giggling laughs capture in the stagnant air, light and distinctly female, though sounding oddly forced, as if trying to impress someone, or edge further away. The shouts of men have gotten rowdier, bolstered on my the keen influence of alcohol and heavy hours of non stop drinking that can send even the sanest, sharpest mind into a spiralling delusion.
Taverns like these always were wild places to be.
The tavern keep smiles, giving a fond glance to the fox that cowers under the table, despite the sign outside which says in embolden words 'no woodland creatures allowed.' Perhaps he even hand painted those words himself, one might have thought then he would have something to stand by- but it seems even those rules are going to shit. For the sake of politeness, I hide my smirk. People will turn a blind eye to anything given they have the right amount of money.
"Would you like anything else, Sirs, young Prince?" he offers, voice ringing with the indulgent, overly eager notes of someone who is overtly looking for something (likely my generosity), but I dismiss him all the same with a flick of vague acknowledgment.
"No thank you," I say at last, trying my very best to keep the gruff tones of insistence out of my voice. What I would like is to be left alone, I think irritably to myself, but offer a trying smile anyway as I add: "We will call on you if we do,"
At that the man looks pleased, his enthusiasm abated. He nods once, and then twice more.
"Good good," he murmurs to himself, tucking his serving tray under his arm as he rubs his bulbous, red nose, sniffing a little as he dips his head. "Enjoy your drinks."
He leaves without another word. In silence I hand out the drinks I ordered- two blood wines for Fangorn and I, and a sparkling elderflower for Kal -which is more accurately known as just a fancy term for juice with a carbonated fizz. Despite this, Kal has the nerve to look mildly disappointed when I hand it to him, as though expecting something in more likeness to what Fangorn and I now sip between us. I raise my brow at him, urging him to challenge me. Fortunately for him, he decides better of it, sinking back down into his seat with a mixture of grovelling thankfulness for the drink, but at the same time a hint of spite or childish jealousy spikes in his heart as he stares longingly at the alcoholic beverages from across the table. As if he could even hold the alcohol! Even after hundreds of years, Kal never did acquire a stomach for it.
"Ease up on the envy Kal, we both know very well you can't hold your liquor," I say languidly, tipping my glass in his direction as I pose a knowing look over its rim. Kal fold's his arms, the swell of his lip protruding out into a comical pout, stance rigid like a statue, yet the absurd nature of his pose paints him as more of a comedy act than a majestic figurine. At last he straightens his crimson imperial jacket and takes a sip of his beverage, a look of relief swelling over his face at the taste.
I roll my eyes. Typical Kal.
"As I was saying," I start again, swilling the blood wine in my glass as I take another long dredge, suddenly feeling eyes pinpointed in my direction like thousands of little laser beams drilling holes into my body. Despite myself, I shiver a little, hoping to shake off the stares.
"Ever since she came to Sezeria she has been the subject of my people's hatred, jealousy, though I undoubtedly expected this. I presumed it would take several months for the situation to die down, or that they would finally accept the inevitability of it after I had the mating ceremony with her. But she wasn't in the palace that day, I couldn't protect her. I…" I pause for a moment, a sudden thought occurring to me. Hesitantly, I turn to the little fox who has since slinked out from under the table to sit and observe from the corner of the room, but as soon as my gaze turns to him, he stiffens. Panic flits across the dual toned colours of his eyes.
"What were you doing outside my palace, little fox?"
The foxes reply is instant.
We were searching for something, a rare herb that would help block your brother's powers since I am unprotected.
I narrow my eyes sharply at him before swivelling a one-eighty in my seat. Leaning my elbows precariously on the edge of the table I peer momentarily into the scarlet confines of my glass, swilling the thick liquid around the rim before lifting my eyes to the slender dragon boy in front of me. As soon as my golden eyes reach him a thick aura of dread shivers round the room, filling the space between us with a tremulous trepidation so that as we sit there, Kal looks like he would like nothing more than to slink back into the shadows and curl in on himself into a tiny, draconic ball. My nails ping out against the glass, sharp, quick, deadly.
"Kal," I say, slowly enough to cause the little dragon's heart to flutter in his chest with an anxious jitteriness that is a far cry from his usual relaxed exterior. A small bead of sweat forms on the side of his head, the glisten droplet catching faintly under the dark swells of light around the room, trailing a snail's path down the side of his forehead. "I find it rather curious that when I entered the room with my little fox friend here, your heart started to beat faster." I say slyly, slowing down the last few words as I draw them out with a tap for each syllable on the side of my glass, allowing for the rhythmic clink of my nails against the glass to add further weight to each word.. "And why, please do inform me, did your heart suddenly call out the names 'Serena' and 'Ithuriel'? Because last I checked, I thought, no, I was certain, that neither of you had met my fiancée. So what business could she possibly have associating with you?"
Fangorn nods to himself, mulling over the facts I have presented him as he runs a finger absently over the rim of his pint glass, chewing the inside of his cheek with a visible frustration. Kal's emotions, however, are not so straight forward. Although his face remains an insufferable mixture of calm and blank thought, his heart pounds, tearing this way and that as the beat rises and falls with that same, unmistakable feeling I have witnessed so many times before. Kal is afraid.The small white fox stares at Kal from across the room, ears flattened, as if also sensing the fear with swims in Kal's heart, taking it upon himself to tip toe his way across to room to butt his head against the dragons leg, a soft little purr rising up around the room. At once Kal's shoulders relax, his face falling as if suddenly every muscle in his body had lost all tension. It is a peculiar phenomenon to watch, but the lean dragon offers up his gratitude with a half dipped nod nonetheless. I raise my brow in silent questioning. "Why would a vampire attack her though, what would they have to gain?" Kal pipes up, pushing around the piece of meat on his plate with the tip of his fork, as though dissatisfaction had pushed him to playing with his food rather than simply chucking it away. There is a distinctly apprehensive twitch in his membranous wings that in the half light of the back room it might be easy to miss, at least to one not so perceptive to such emotions. But a vampire's eyes are keener than a hawk's on the sight of a mouse, so no matter how reserved Kal thinks he is, there are always some emotions that leak through his faade of being 'at ease'. Fortunately, it is Fangorn who answers, granting me a few more precious seconds to survey the unnatural disposition of my hosts."To claim Soren's hand in marriage. Without a Queen, perhaps they hoped Soren would take someone else, that his heart would turn as soon as she is dead. I expect they are also outraged by who she is- not a vampire. In fact, I half expected it to come sooner. There have been attempts on her life before?"I purse my lips, mouth souring with the acrid nature of the memory."Plenty," I snarl under my breath. There have been an innumerable amount of attempts on her life this past week alone, the majority of which see has not the faintest idea about- though I would rather keep it that way for now. I have sent several careless vampires to an early demise this week- traitors are not people taken well in Sezeria, especially if they try to directly contend my rule to harm my Queen. One might have expected that by now they would have realised the futility of it all and given up hope of ever trying to gain my hand in marriage, but apparently the idiocy of some creatures surpasses that of even my immortal understanding. But it is no matter, they are all dead now- though it is a rather pitiful waste of life.Before I can say any more, I am forced to halt myself, pausing to watch the tavern keeper bustle in with three drinks on a platter, throwing open the door with a large crack. The fox scuttles to curl under the table out of sight, perhaps assuming that the tavern keeper would be opposed to the small white fox scampering around his store rooms and presume the worst, but the old, wrinkled man says nothing of it as he swoops down to place our drinks on the table, trailing with him the pungent smell of alcohol and a drunken fever dream. Behind him, the sounds of the tavern echo into existence, previously barred off by the thick wooden door that forms an impermeable barrier to noise and disturbance. Giggling laughs capture in the stagnant air, light and distinctly female, though sounding oddly forced, as if trying to impress someone, or edge further away. The shouts of men have gotten rowdier, bolstered on my the keen influence of alcohol and heavy hours of non stop drinking that can send even the sanest, sharpest mind into a spiralling delusion.Taverns like these always were wild places to be.The tavern keep smiles, giving a fond glance to the fox that cowers under the table, despite the sign outside which says in embolden words 'no woodland creatures allowed.' Perhaps he even hand painted those words himself, one might have thought then he would have something to stand by- but it seems even those rules are going to shit. For the sake of politeness, I hide my smirk. People will turn a blind eye to anything given they have the right amount of money. "Would you like anything else, Sirs, young Prince?" he offers, voice ringing with the indulgent, overly eager notes of someone who is overtly looking for something likely my generosity, but I dismiss him all the same with a flick of vague acknowledgment."No thank you," I say at last, trying my very best to keep the gruff tones of insistence out of my voice. What I would like is to be left alone, I think irritably to myself, but offer a trying smile anyway as I add: "We will call on you if we do,"At that the man looks pleased, his enthusiasm abated. He nods once, and then twice more."Good good," he murmurs to himself, tucking his serving tray under his arm as he rubs his bulbous, red nose, sniffing a little as he dips his head. "Enjoy your drinks."He leaves without another word. In silence I hand out the drinks I ordered- two blood wines for Fangorn and I, and a sparkling elderflower for Kal -which is more accurately known as just a fancy term for juice with a carbonated fizz. Despite this, Kal has the nerve to look mildly disappointed when I hand it to him, as though expecting something in more likeness to what Fangorn and I now sip between us. I raise my brow at him, urging him to challenge me. Fortunately for him, he decides better of it, sinking back down into his seat with a mixture of grovelling thankfulness for the drink, but at the same time a hint of spite or childish jealousy spikes in his heart as he stares longingly at the alcoholic beverages from across the table. As if he could even hold the alcohol! Even after hundreds of years, Kal never did acquire a stomach for it."Ease up on the envy Kal, we both know very well you can't hold your liquor," I say languidly, tipping my glass in his direction as I pose a knowing look over its rim. Kal fold's his arms, the swell of his lip protruding out into a comical pout, stance rigid like a statue, yet the absurd nature of his pose paints him as more of a comedy act than a majestic figurine. At last he straightens his crimson imperial jacket and takes a sip of his beverage, a look of relief swelling over his face at the taste.I roll my eyes. Typical Kal."As I was saying," I start again, swilling the blood wine in my glass as I take another long dredge, suddenly feeling eyes pinpointed in my direction like thousands of little laser beams drilling holes into my body. Despite myself, I shiver a little, hoping to shake off the stares."Ever since she came to Sezeria she has been the subject of my people's hatred, jealousy, though I undoubtedly expected this. I presumed it would take several months for the situation to die down, or that they would finally accept the inevitability of it after I had the mating ceremony with her. But she wasn't in the palace that day, I couldn't protect her. I" I pause for a moment, a sudden thought occurring to me. Hesitantly, I turn to the little fox who has since slinked out from under the table to sit and observe from the corner of the room, but as soon as my gaze turns to him, he stiffens. Panic flits across the dual toned colours of his eyes."What were you doing outside my palace, little fox?"The foxes reply is instant.We were searching for something, a rare herb that would help block your brother's powers since I am unprotected. I narrow my eyes sharply at him before swivelling a one-eighty in my seat. Leaning my elbows precariously on the edge of the table I peer momentarily into the scarlet confines of my glass, swilling the thick liquid around the rim before lifting my eyes to the slender dragon boy in front of me. As soon as my golden eyes reach him a thick aura of dread shivers round the room, filling the space between us with a tremulous trepidation so that as we sit there, Kal looks like he would like nothing more than to slink back into the shadows and curl in on himself into a tiny, draconic ball. My nails ping out against the glass, sharp, quick, deadly."Kal," I say, slowly enough to cause the little dragon's heart to flutter in his chest with an anxious jitteriness that is a far cry from his usual relaxed exterior. A small bead of sweat forms on the side of his head, the glisten droplet catching faintly under the dark swells of light around the room, trailing a snail's path down the side of his forehead. "I find it rather curious that when I entered the room with my little fox friend here, your heart started to beat faster." I say slyly, slowing down the last few words as I draw them out with a tap for each syllable on the side of my glass, allowing for the rhythmic clink of my nails against the glass to add further weight to each word.. "And why, please do inform me, did your heart suddenly call out the names 'Serena' and 'Ithuriel'? Because last I checked, I thought, no, I was certain, that neither of you had met my fiance. So what business could she possibly have associating with you?"
