Belle was greatly occupied trying to find all the remedies she needed for the balm; busy feet moving from one place to the other, industrious hands opening one cupboard before the next, shuffling around a shelf too high up for her to see, opening drawers and checking labels. In the end, Belle had a number of ingredients on the kitchen-table in front of her, lined up, labels visible. She smiled to herself, satisfied that sheâd located everything, and that there was actually enough to make a nice portion too. Seemed like this wouldnât be the only time heâd need it. She had felt so bad, looking at those hands of his, and then glancing at her own spotless, soft palms she made a face. Life was unfair to some, and yet so fortunate to others. She had merely been lucky, where James hadnât been. It wasnât her fault, she knew that, but she couldnât help but feel a little guilty at her gentle, sheltered life.
As Belleâs mind quickly went over how to prepare each ingredient before finalizing an actual balm, she quickly got to work, that quilt still eating at her. Such a silly feeling really, but she couldnât shake it, and she supposed it was alright. She was a woman after all, and women werenât supposed to be tough. It didnât take her long to crush herbs, mash leaves and press the juice out of fruits. Oranges to be exact. She couldnât remember why the fruit was necessary⊠perhaps merely for the sake of scent, but she wouldnât be one to discard it anyway. Taking out a bowl sheâd noticed in a floor-level cupboard, Belle began mixing all of her ingredients in the exact order sheâd been told to do it many years ago. True, it had been a while, as this was childâs teachings for a noble female, but it was like riding a bike, really. Once you learned, you simply never forgot.
She hadnât even noticed that sheâd started humming a lullaby-tune until she stopped whipping the thick, green substance into how it was supposed to look, and stopped to take a breath. Her arms were way to thin and feeble for her to be doing all that manual work, really. They were already aching from the whipping. Granted, the balm was thick, but she still felt pathetic. She felt satisfied with the look of things, though. It had the right substance, the right smell, and the right colour, so sheâd be damned if sheâd made it the wrong way. Grabbing the bandages sheâd managed to find in a box on a top-shelf sheâd barely been able to reach, she turned, smiling at the dakrhaired servant sheâd decide to help. âYou ought to take better care of yourself, you know,â she said, playfully scolding him a little.
Then she took the bowl of balm in her free hand and moved to sit down in front of him on the floor, put the things down beside her and smiled at him. âThis should help, though,â she spoke, voice soft and friendly, eyes warm, as she gestured for him to put his hand in hers, âwith all the scar-tissue too. Iâm going to put this balm on your hands, and then put bandages around them, okay?â She explained it merely so she wouldnât shock him with anything she did. He seemed a bit jumpy, even though he didnât even know who she was. It made her wonder if maybe he suspected her status, or merely feared from everyone. If the latter was the case, then she truly felt bad for him. To live a life without trust or friendship? Yes, she knew he had to work hard to please the king, but had he really not a single person he could relax around? It saddened her.
Bowe smiled at Alara as she told him her name, truly grateful that the woman had chosen to correct her mistake. He didnât like cocky people â sure, he was an arrogant bastard at times himself, but that didnât mean he liked to be. It was merely a matter of need for him, as oppose to Narek who couldnât really help it. Their parents had spoiled him too much, so even when they were children, Narek had gotten everything. Truthfully it had initiating many of their childhood fights, as Bowen had not taken kindly to the fact that Narek got to just steal his toys. It was a long time ago, but as time had passed and Narek had become king, itâd only gotten worse. The was no changing the stubborn king. He was, and would always be, a spoiled brat, to put things mildly.
Other than the smile, Bowen kept his face plain and emotionless, listening to the woman. Disgust and annoyance pretty much flowed from her words, even as they somewhat polite⊠well, except for the taunting âlittle kingâ, which sheâd used several times now. Fortunately for her, Bowen had no need to defend Narekâs honour in such things. If he had to be completely honest, he was grateful someone told him off for once. And so, he almost chuckled when she told him to learn to keep his temper in check. It was like right out of Bowenâs own mouth, and has his admiration and amusement grew with the woman, he almost felt bad for âwarningâ her earlier, but soon beat the feeling down. He had a duty to his brother, and that was more important than anything. Especially some human woman, even though she truly was a tough one.
In all honesty, Bowen was glad he didnât have to ruin her, as he let her pass him, because he had a feeling she would become truly great sometime. A part of him recognized the traits in her and knew she was a fighter. How amazing it would be if Narek fell for a girl like that; someone who wouldnât just sit and take his crap, but rather tell him to shut up⊠that would probably cost her a head, but if that could be avoided, Bowe would be pretty content. Life was a constant battle at home, to everyone who spent time with the king⊠well, except for Bowen, who had the rare talent of being able to calm his brother⊠once in a while, anyway. When he heard the front-door shut behind Alara, he turned to Narek, frowning.
âReally? Again?â He sighed, âwhat was it this time then?â he asked, letting his irritation slip into his voice. He was literally the only person who got to speak to Narek that way, and that was only because 1; Narek knew that a fight between the two of them was evenly matched at best, and 2; theyâd grown up together. He wasnât used to respect and grovelling from Bowen, and even if he asked for it, Bowen would rather die. The only reason people hadnât banded together and thrown him over, was Bowen, because he repeatedly reminded them of honour⊠oh, and because he practically ran the kingdom. Narek ate, threw fits, and caused Bowe even more work. Oh, the joys of life.
As she watched Yeremy walk away from her, she almost called out a thank-you, but kept her mouth shut. He hadnât done anything for her yet, and she couldnât really be sure he would. Technically, he couldâve just been humouring her this entire time. She wouldnât know, would she? Lena sighed, pulling her thin cardigan closer as she walked the last couple of steps for the front-doors of her earthly home. Speculations regarding the puzzling man could wait. Right now, as heâd said, Lena should seek out the king, tend to his needs, if he had any, and if not, sheâd grab a book and join him in his chambers. Relaxing sounded really good to her right now, even though she liked to busy herself with work, she frankly required a little break. After this whole deal with Yeremy, Lena could honestly say her mind had need of air, and at this point, work wouldnât do the trick.
Lena entered the well-known abode, smiling softly as her flats hit floors, familiar clicks and clacks emanating with her feet hurrying up the broad stairs. She could tell her king was home from the eerie silence in the place. She wondered if he was in a bad mood perhaps, or if the others simply assumed that he was. Wouldnât be the first time. Actually Sabine was often misinterpreted by servants, guards and so forth, as he was hard to read in truth, unless youâd been around him as much, and as closely, as Lena had. She felt gratitude that heâd chosen to include her in his life the way he had, and maybe also a little proud that it had been her, and not a real demon. She was pretty confident it was merely one of Sabineâs weird quirks though. Wouldnât be the first he did something unexpected because he decided to change things up a bit. That was why people feared him⊠because they never knew what to expect from their cold king.
Before she got far, however, she was stopped by a guard who wanted her to deliver a message. Lena lowered her head the second he spoke, but listened closely. Male guards where cruel, cruel beings, and sheâd much rather just run along and join the king, but her ears perked at the words âletterâ and âvampiresâ, so she stood still until the guard grabbed her arm and whispered a little promise in her ear. She winced, knowing what âletâs have funâ meant in horny-guard, and decided in that second, that sheâd spend the night on the floor with the king. She had to protect herself somehow, and sheâd rather deal with a little pain in her back, than the guardâs hands and other parts on and in her. She was afraid the king would rather be alone this night, however, but as the guard left with a chuckle, goosebumps spread on Lenaâs soft skin.
She ignored it and kept right on walked. Couldnât let things like that affect her so much. Hell, she should be used to it by now. Sheâd rather they just did it though, no creepy warning or âpromisesâ to scare her half to death. Would be so much easier to deal with that way. She didnât want to spend hours fearing that he body would be ravaged and broken in a little while.
As Lena came to a stop in front of Sabineâs door, she knocked softly, just once, before pushing down the handle to push the door open. She closed the door behind her, turned to her kind and curtsied politely, even though it was sort of hard in this dress. She ignored the cold still prominent in her arms and legs, and smiled at her king, brown eyes pleasant as always. âWelcome home, your grace.â Simple words, but they were as they should be. Lena didnât talk more to Sabine unless he wanted her to. If her king desired conversation, she would do that, just like sheâd keep quiet if he so preferred. Her life was uncomplicated, truthfully.
Except for Yeremyâs weird outbreak. She wondered if maybe she should inform the king that his trusted adviser was not quite right anymore, but she didnât want to out Yeremy. Besides, he did his job as he should, and that was all she could ask of him, so Lena said nothing. If things got worse, Sabine was no fool and would figure it out himself, though she hoped she was able to help Yeremy before things got that bad. Thinking of Yeremy, she started wondering where heâd run off to.