Annabelle
Belle couldn't help smiling at James' awkwardness. He truly wasn't used to company, she gathered. How fascinating, how... interesting, and it was a challenge for a girl of her type. She would make sure this man felt comfortable in his own skin, though she had no idea how long it would take. She wanted to help him, she realized. She now understood why Bowen had been so adamant about the kid's survival. He just ignited some sort of instinct in her, not quite protective or parental, but more like the way you'd want to protect a fellow Lykae. She never had that; the Lykaes she knew would never need protection from one such as her. She giggled a little at his flustered attempt of talking to her, but didn't find him pathetic. Rather... cute. It was a concept unknown to the young female. Lykaes were not cute. They were handsome or good-looking, never cute and adorable. This halfling certainly was an abnormality. Luckily for him, she loved a puzzle.
"I know who you are," she said matter-of-factly, smiling at him. "And I'm in the mansion... here on earth, out of the simple reason that my father thought it would be good for me." She chose her words carefully, making sure she didn't exclude too much, but just enough not to lie to the man. Lykaes, nomatter how human, could sniff out lies like they could vampires. Often, as she'd been taught, the two were one. Lies and vampires. That's why they were at war; the two species were complete opposites. Where Lykaes valued honor and feelings, the Vampires were arrogant liars who took joy in drinking human blood. They even kept slaves. Slaves. She shook of the thought, returning her attentions to the man. She supposed she'd have to come up with some sort of explanation.
"The prince informed me that I was to keep you company, as he had other things to do." She then added in an explanatory manner. She hoped it was enough, that he didn't ask why her or something like that, because if she had to be honest... she had no idea why Bowe had chosen her over everyone else. It was as much a mystery to her, as it would probably be to the young male.
Lena
Lena had spent a little while making sure everything was as tidy as possible in the king's chambers. Then she'd positioned herself in the big chair at the huge windows and looked outside. The night was dark and without the sun she so dearly loved, but it was intriguing in its own right, she had to admit. There was just something captivating about the moon. She didn't know how long she sat there, but she'd lost touch with reality, retracting into herself to think, to take refuge from her current position. Yeremy ranked highest in the mansion right now, and she didn't like it. It meant there was no one to stop him from doing whatever he wanted.
However, as the door burst open, she was jolted back into the human world and straightened herself, trying to locate the intruder. The next thing she knew, she was looking into Yeremy's cold, angry eyes and fear hit hard. This was the Yeremy that scared her senseless. This was the man she knew he was at heart. The man who only had to look at her to make her run away screaming. Well, she had once upon a time. Now, as times had passed, Lena'd fears had subsided slightly, but they were still ever-present, and she hated it. Hated the control this monster had over her. His words, however, surprised her. He wanted her to go out with him? What kind of sick game was he playing now? She wondered, trying to keep the fear out of her expression. Problem was, as he grabbed onto her, she no longer had control of her body and it started shivering slightly, a cold chilly feeling running down her spine.
Get it together, Lena... you can handle this. You can. Just.. don't look at him, she thought, and so, seeing the reason in her own words, Lena took her deep breath and looked down at her captured wrist. No eye-contact, that was the way to collect herself. It didn't take him long to speak again, to her regret. Malice was evident in his voice, and she could almost feel the restlessness and irritation seeping from him. Oh god, was he punishing her for the words she'd said earlier? It would be just like him, to let her think she was off the hook, then hit her hard afterwards. This, and many more scenarios played through Lena's mind, but she knew she had no choice. She couldn't go hiding behind a king not present, so instead, realizing her lack of choice in the matter, she looked back into Yeremy's scary eyes, breath shallow and a little too quick. She would handle this; she would not let fear paralyze her. She was over 500 years old, for Christ's sake, she should've been hardened by now. She wasn't though, but she didn't want to admit it to herself.
So she nodded solemnly at Yeremy and got up. "As my lord commands," she said, aiming for casual indifference, but the shaky quality of her words betrayed her fear, so she took a deep breath, glancing at the big hand holding her captive. If only she wasn't such a weak little halfling. If only she'd been what her father wanted her to be. But, if's never got anyone anywhere, so she disregarded the hopeless thoughts. She merely hoped Yeremy would grow bored with her as he did everything. He never could keep his interest going for anything anymore. She really hoped she wouldn't become like him when she got older. Bored with life, bored with existence, people, and she supposed, even the sun. She didn't think he took much pleasure in anything anymore, but she couldn't be sure. Yeremy was hard to read. She wanted to ask him where he was taking her, and why, but she didn't dare.