The blonde girl smiled slightly at Jamesâs reply. The fact that heâd said it the way he had, implied that he was beginning to feel more comfortable with her, yet she had not expected any rude words to come from his mouth. Or, well, not exactly rude, but he wasnât being welcoming either, which made her want to go back to not asking him the question, but now that she had said A, she had to say B too. No way back. She was just about to ask her question when she spotted him beginning to fret about with his hands and paused to send him a slightly reprimanding, though lenient look, laughing softly. She didnât mention it, though. If they were bothering him, that was that, nothing she could do about it. Wouldnât keep her from trying again the next day, however. That was just the kind of person she was; helpful to the point of choking people. Well, sometimes⊠unless she didnât like them of course.
âI was just wondering,â she started, glancing at the windows, noting the dark of the night, before she looked back at him, âdo you ever wish that your life was different? Why did you come here in the first place, I mean⊠why did you take up service with the king? Everyone knows of his temper.â She almost kicked herself, bothered at the phrasings. She was supposed to seem his equal, not a peasant. She had been taught to speak proper and here she was, stuttering like some halfwit. She threw her annoyance to the back of her mind, however, knowing that it would not serve to let it show. Besides, it wasnât Jamesâ fault that sheâd somehow begun to make knots with her tongue. Furthermore, she couldnât really explain to him why she was aggravated without seeming like the noble snob she actually was. Eh, snob⊠such a terrible word, wasnât it? Well, that was her. That was Annabelle of Quarth, the Captainâs youngest daughter, except she didnât want to be that girl.
Belle smiled at James once more, though the smile didnât quite reach her eyes this time; she was preoccupied by thoughts of the person she wanted to be, and the person she was supposed to be⊠along with who she really was. It was all one big mess to her, and sometimes she preferred to sit for hours by herself, pondering her life and her choices â whatever few she had. There were many problems associated with being who she was, so many things she had to live up to, yet she didnât wish to compromise her own happiness in the process. A subtle balance, is what is was, and though she was over a century old, Belle still had quite the difficulties when it came to those things. How did humans ever manage to figure out their lives in such short spans?
The thing about James though, was that he inspired her in some ways, and in others she felt she had things to teach him. It seemed her had forgotten that there were joys to life. True, he had a sparse amount of freetime, but the fact of the matter was that work didnât have to be such a bad thing, not really. It was like heâd⊠hidden parts of himself, leaving only a fairly empty shell. Belle wanted so badly to fill it again, to blow some semblance of a life back into him, or heâd end up killing himself by the end of his current century. No one could go through life like he did now. Maybe that was what worried Bowe too.
As the kingâs green eyes found her once more, Lenaâs innocent brown ones glanced at the door. She could vaguely hear steps in the hall, and no one entered the kingâs wing without having business with said demon, so she had a feeling she would not have the chance to speak without anyone else in their presence. Though Sabine cared for her compared to how he treated everyone else, he still did not take any steps towards making her mentally comfortable. He very well knew that Lena hated to speak with him while others around, but heâd never cared about that, not that she was surprised. Sabine was who Sabine was and sheâd never sought to picture him as anything else. She was merely grateful he did not take out his cruelty directly on her like many others did. Not physically anyway, and honestly he wasnât that bad with her mentally either. She liked to think he didnât want her changed or more broken that she already was.
Lena had, in fact, had a little more voice when sheâd first arrived at the castle, not as Sabineâs personal servant of course, but a meager little girl who did the dishes. Then her virginity had been robbed from her and sheâd had to get past that, not able to speak of it. It had taken its toll, forced her to harden herself, as much as the soft, darkhaired girl could. Ever since, Lena had been quiet, a little mouse in the shadows, cowing at every turn. Well, until the king had taken an interest in her. At first she had been afraid that he would take her to his bed, as so many had, but Sabine had never made such moves, which in itself was a gift. Actually, Lena couldnât remember the last time the king had taken any woman, in truth. She knew he much preferred quiet and books â mental exercises, a lot like her, she thought. Maybe that was why he accepted her so, but she could only guess.
She soon found that she had been right about the steps headed towards the kingâs chambers, because just as Sabineâs voice formed words allowing her to speak, knocking sounded at the door. The little servant sighed softly to hear Yeremyâs voice follow the sound. She had seen enough of him tonight, and would much rather have a bit of quiet to gather herself and piece the little puzzles together. Maybe theyâd make up a pretty picture then, but she doubted it. Lene glanced at Sabine, awaiting his next words. She assumed he would let her speak before Yeremy, even though Yeremy was technically higher than her in rank. She had never understood why he did that â maybe merely to banter Yeremy a little, get a reaction from him. Whatever the reason, it should not be so according to every book sheâd ever read on etiquette, but hey, who was she to correct the king?
The king made a gesture towards her, silently commanding her to wait, which she would have done automatically. She had been around Sabine too long for her not to know what to do in certain situations. She assumed he knew that, but merely wanted to make sure⊠or maybe he hadnât really thought of to whom he was giving orders. The other servants had no feelings for situations like so, she knew. Perhaps she had been away from him for too long and heâd had to grow annoyed with someone else? She supposed it mattered little though. Lena then watched Yeremy open the door, handsome face peering inside after Sabine had given permission. No other than her was allowed to step in without one â a privilege she adored. She smiled vaguely to have her suspicions confirmed, the familiar green eyes landing on her once more as Sabine informed them both that Lena was to speak first.
He had used the usual nickname for her,
little bird. She had never quite figured out whether it was an endearment or a degrading statement. Perhaps both. It would be like Sabine to have several motives even for the little things he said and did. Curious creature he was indeed. She didnât think sheâd ever grow bored trying to figure out why he did as he did. She pulled her quilt closer, brown eyes flickering across Yeremyâs face before ending up looking into her masterâs green ones, a slight smile adorning her features. âA note came from a spy about an hour ago. Of course your grace should have been informed of this sooner, and I apologize for not being here to bring it to you.â She said, well-knowing of the fact that bringing messages wasnât her job. It was something she did as a favor to the others (even though they didnât deserve it) as they were so frightened of the great king. In truth, it should be brought by a guard or another servant, if she was not available.
Apparently theyâd chosen to wait instead, which she honestly thought a tad foolhardy. Lena always took the blame, though â or attempted to. The king had this awful tendency to know when she was merely playing sacrificial lamb⊠again. She offered yet another slight smile, and then continued, âhowever, I assure you the message is of no hasty quality tonight.â She glanced at the door, wishing Yeremy would leave again. He might feel comfortable enough talking freely with her, but she did not with him. A soft sigh escaped her full lips as her gaze ones more found the king.
âApparently high born women of the vampire kingâs court have begun to disappear. This evening a letter arrived at his castle in Cruorem Orbis, stating that you, your grace, was the abductor in an attempt to turn the males of the court against him. However, the vampire king will not return home until morning, as is their custom, and neither will his adviser, so naught will be done about it until then as none of them are aware of the letterâs existence as of yet.â A lot of words, yes, and she really did despise having to say them with Yeremy there. Around everyone but the king, Lena was cautious and spoke very little. She thought about the situation, though, aware that it was not the first time a thing like that had happened; little âmisunderstandingsâ leading to war. Someone was playing a clever game, but no one could figure out who.
Playing on the women was the right move with vampires; there, women were cherished and valued. The men loved their women, much more passionately than human were able. It was a shame demons did not posses such strong emotions. It wouldâve been nice. The issue was that though everyone was aware of the games, no one was willing to talk things out. Every race hated the two others with a passion unmatched, and creatures such as Lykaes had this thing where they just rushed off into war and violence â probably had something to do with their impulsive king, Narek Tane. Sheâd heard that his brother and adviser, Bowen Tane, should have a clever mind though, but rumors were but rumors, and they were so rarely true.
The Lykae adviser remained expressionless as he listened to his brother, growing aggravated as well as quite weary. The king, no matter what Bowen said or did, would not see reason. Thankfully, he was able to grasp the fact that him going around hurting innocent was
bad here and was agreeing to cut down, but he was still being stubborn. Avenge him, would they? Break out of jail, would he? Well that was just great, except they
risked discovery! But what could Bowen do? He had tried so many times to talk sense into his brotherâs thick skull, but was unable to break though. If this kept up for many more centuries, Bowen was sure he would give up. But then again, after about 3000 years with
this one, who wouldnât? Bowen had the faint idea of strangling his dear brother, just to shut him up⊠keep the stubborn, proud words from exiting his mouth, but pushed it away again.
One more timeâŠ
âNarek,â Bowen said, sending his brother a âwhat the hell is wrong with youâ look reserved only for him, âwhat do you think will happen if you break out of jail, or if a horde of maddened Lykaes burst into the city, tearing everything, and everyone apart? Did you ever stop to think that we might have a problem staying on earth if you out us? We need earth, you know. We need a safeplace. Going here is like going on vacation from the war. This is the only place we can talk business, whenever the other races are compliable as well. Another thing; I did not say that it was unwise for you to enter the human world, merely for you to go out. Alcohol goes in and whatever little pieces of brain you have, go numb.â He was being harsh, yes, and he only said the words because no one else of their kin was near. Narekâs pride would not be able to take it if someone heard him being scolded by his little brother.
âAnd I donât want to âstop you from being kingâ, Narek. I want you to act as the king you supposedly are instead of a spoiled teenager. Those years are long gone, brother. You have an entire race of people to take care of. You have to protect them, and not merely care whether or not some human says boo at the wrong time. They are unimportant; cattle, prey to vampires, theyâre expendable. Their opinions and actions hold no meaning, but yours do, and I want you to stop and
think about that before you decide to tear someoneâs throat out next time.â He was ranting, but it felt good, even as fatigue and resigned indifference settled over his features, âah⊠why the hell am I even trying?â he finished, âit wonât help any.â
And with those words, the two royalties had reached their human mansion. Bowen cast his brother a dark look before opening the door and walking inside. He did not care to hold the door for his brother â Bowen was no servant and after this night, Narek deserved to do something by himself instead of having everyone else do his dirty work all the time.