17. Languid
17
LANGUID
L uella stumbled into bed face-first.
A long-suffering sigh fell from her lips, and she tiredly pulled a pillow close to her body as she tucked her hands under her chin and allowed her eyes to drift shut.
Thankfully, she was alone. For the first time with a right mind in what felt like lifetimes. And it was quiet.
But her thoughts wanted to be loud.
She buried her face in her pillow, shoving everything deep, deep down. She couldn’t. Not yet. Not now. It was all too much.
So, she counted imaginary flowers in a field behind her closed eyelids, forcing her body to keep still.
The grip on her pillow relaxed, her breaths evened out, and finally, she drifted off.
No dreams took her captive in the night. And no vampires stole into her mind. It was a restful and dreamless sleep. No sounds of screams or sights of blood assaulted her, and no scent of mold and dank cells enveloped her.
But—
No hands intertwined with hers through iron bars. No lullabies soothed her to sleep. She couldn’t hear the rumble of faint snoring and smell that inviting scent of burnt cocoa, rich and warm.
The night was restless. Many times, she awoke to a dry mouth and a pounding head. It felt like she drank too much wine. Out of sorts and discombobulated, she had to reorient herself, sleepy thoughts filtering in as she reminded herself she wasn’t in the dungeons. She was not tucked away in her tower in Solis. But in a room of opulence, a cage of gilded edges, lying beneath a fluttering canopy amid jewels and soft beauty. Every time, her heart clenched anew.
In the late, cold, quiet hours of the night, Luella awoke to her arm stretched out, palm facing upward as it awaited a hand that would not come—from a body that was tucked deep below in the castle, fitfully sleeping on hardened stone, while she curled up in the finest of silks and nestled herself between fluffy pillows and luxurious throws.
Somewhere, a raven cawed. And she had no idea if it was real or imagined.
With a huff, she fell back to sleep, tossing and turning the whole night away.
Sun filtered through the glass doors leading to the balcony, the first sight she saw upon blearily cracking open her eyes.
From how she had kept her arm extended all night, subconsciously reaching out for Az, it was numb and tingling. She tried to shake the feeling back into her limbs as she sat up. Her gown was rumpled from her fitful rest, and her mouth was dry with thirst.
She hoped the King wouldn’t grow angry that she had ruined such a beautiful gown by sleeping in it. Or even worse, the maids.
Parting the canopy and rising from the bed, she arched her back, stretching her hands far above her. She let out a soft sigh of contentment from the night of rest, however fitful it had been, it was far better than the cold dungeons. Though she had slept in the bed the night prior, she didn’t remember much, too loopy from the potion. But last night had been much better on her aching body—save for the way she couldn’t get a certain demon expelled from her thoughts. She kept waking, thinking he would be right there, a strong and steady presence to ward off the shadows.
Luella skimmed her hand over the soft duvet, walking along the side and footboard until she stood in front of the glass doors that led to the balcony. The sun was high in the sky. It was late morning. She had slept for a long time. Even though she knew it would be a futile endeavor, she tried the handles.
She sighed.
Locked.
There was a swift knock on the door, and she turned, seeing the two maids from the evening prior enter in a whirlwind. It must have been their personalities, to be so high-strung and no-nonsense. The silent, lithe maid with glittery scales and the red-haired, arduous leader. The shorter of the two quietly sat a silver tray with a teacup and teapot down on the small breakfast table pushed near the window, while the other met Luella’s eye with a cold look and crooked her finger to beckon her to follow, sweeping into the bathing chambers with sure steps.
Luella obeyed, not wanting to invoke the fiery angst that she knew the red-haired female to have.
Inside the bathing chamber, the maid was bent over the small bath set into the ground, pouring two bottles of oil into the water, already filled. Tendrils of steam wafted from the surface, and Luella’s toes clenched in anticipation of the warm bath.
"Disrobe," the maid commanded. "Ina has your morning tea set out for you once you bathe. Then she will do your hair."
Ina, the silent maid with scales on her cheeks. Luella was glad to be able to put a name to the face. If there was one she thought she could befriend, it would be Ina, not the fiery force of a female in front of her.
Her hands fumbled as she tried to reach the ties of the corset behind her. The maid glanced up, jaw clenched, as she took note that Luella was still wearing the gown from last night as if the fact had just registered with her. She stood from her crouching position, walking closer to Luella, and she looked up at the amid. She was a strong and tall female—a few heads taller than Luella—and she forced her body to still as the maid forced her to turn, undoing the laces, before dismantling the ensemble of the dress, carefully laying it over the back of a chair near the mirror wall.
Luella quickly stepped down into the bathing pool to cover her naked flesh. The water covered up to her breasts as she sank into the comforting warmth. It smelled of strawberries and vanilla, fresh and light and inviting. An incense stick was burning on the cart next to the pool—topped with a few extra vials of oil and soap.
Just like the night before, the maid quickly washed her hair and body, scrubbing her clean and roughly applying oils and balms to her skin once out of the water.
Luella was forced down into the chair in front of the vanity.
Ina traded places with the other maid—who went to nurse the tea—and heated the hairbrush with little sparks of her dragon fire before styling Luella’s hair to fall over one shoulder, the left side pinned back with a small, jeweled clip. A silky curl fell over Luella’s left cheek, and the heavy weight of her hair was laid over her right shoulder, the frizz tamed with oils and the hot brush.
"You are Ina?" Luella whispered, mindful of the other maid on the far side of the room. Ina’s eyes widened, but she gave a quick nod, the scales on her cheek catching the light that filtered into the room. "What is her name?" Luella softly inclined her head toward the other maid, careful not to disrupt Ina as she put the finishing touches on her hair.
Ina tapped her chin thoughtfully before resting her fingertip against the surface of the vanity. She slowly traced letters into the surface, and Luella watched with rapt attention.
"O…" Luella watched the female trace a circle on the surface of the vanity. She glanced up to meet her green eyes, and the maid nodded. "O… sa?" Luella questioned. A soft, pleased smile graced the maid’s lips, and she tucked a short strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Osa." Luella smiled, but they both flinched when the red-haired maid, Osa, set a cup of tea down on the vanity in front of Luella with a clatter.
Osa’s lip curled as she shot Ina a look. "Drink quickly now. It’s a hibiscus blend with honey and lemon extract to help with any lingering sickness. But it will be less potent than anything the Prima would give you."
Luella cradled the small cup in her hands, taking a sniff of the warm liquid before slowly sipping on it. It burned her tongue slightly, but the pain rid her of the last of her drowsiness, forcing her to awaken completely.
"Thank you," she whispered, taking another sip of tea.
Osa did not respond, the female simply went to the wardrobe and pulled out a gown from within. Ina urged Luella to stand, and Luella was handed a slip, the material thin and silky against her skin as she stepped into it. She steadied herself with a hand on Ina’s shoulder as the gown was pulled up her legs and the laces tied. Osa scurried around her, fiddling with the sleeves and making sure everything was up to her very high standards, no doubt.
"There," Osa said, spinning Luella to face a mirror next to the wardrobe, and she swallowed a gasp at the sight.
The dress was not as intricately designed as the one from yesterday evening, but still breathtaking. For the cold weather, it was a long-sleeved gown, warming her body. It was thick yet cozy, with sleeves that billowed out toward the bottom. A simple white fabric embellished with silver and gold lines intercrossing over the arms and bodice, falling like pieces of snow down the front to grow dense at the bottom. The fabric gathered under her breasts with a golden clasp, the material bunching up where it was kept held together—the focal point of the gown. The neckline was simple, a soft dip that rested right over the swell of her chest, not as adventurous or revealing as last night, but more than what Luella was comfortable with. Much more revealing than she normally would wear.
It was winter, as a dress. Coldness, as a gown. Like the faint sound of snow falling against the earth, it rustled as she moved, like stormy nights finding solace under a blanket and days huddled by the fire, it wrapped her up in its embrace, yet remained light as air.
Her hands fluttered over her hips, hesitant to touch the material of the gown. The female staring back at her was as foreign as another realm.
Osa gave a nod before looking at Ina. "No rouge or kohl?"
Ina shook her head in response, trailing the tip of her finger over Luella’s cheekbone and down to her jaw. Luella tried not to flinch back at the intrusive touch.
"You’re right," Osa commented, her tone bitter. "It’s not needed after a night’s rest. Sickening." She fit a hand on Ina’s shoulder and steered her to the door. Osa did not turn to look at Luella, but Ina did, tucking a piece of brown hair behind her ear, scales glimmering, before giving Luella a meek smile like she was apologizing for Osa’s harshness.
They weren’t gone but a few moments before the door opened again. Somehow, Luella knew who it would be before she even saw him.
"Good morning, pet. Or should I say good afternoon?" Bastian strolled into the room, suit dapper and mood far too chipper. He must have had some extra blood this morning. "What? You don’t want to speak with me? Not after I’ve kept you alive?" Bastian sat on the edge of her bed, fingers toying with the canopy, as he peered at her from behind a piece of sheer fabric. His reddened eyes were half-lidded, and the sensuality that clung to him made her flush. It was a seductive pose—with him sitting on the same bed she had slept on, face half obscured by the fluttery, sheer material of the canopy like he was beckoning her to join him.
She backed up, her thighs hitting the edge of the vanity. "N-no," she stuttered. "Good morning."
Bastian smiled, pleased, and dropped the fabric, standing quickly. "As much as I would like to lay on your bed all day and stay in this room with you, pet, I did come here for a reason." He drew closer to her, and she had nowhere else to turn to. She had backed herself into a corner. He slotted a hand against her cheek, thumb brushing over her skin. She inhaled his addicting scent, eyes fluttering shut.
"You smell divine this morning," Bastian revealed, head lowered and strands of his black hair tickling her face as he bent over her. "Did you rest well?"
"Yes," Luella nodded, mad that she did not have any rouge to cover her blushing cheeks this time.
The vampire hummed under his breath, and it rumbled through her with how close she was to him. He suddenly stepped back and offered out a hand to her. "Let’s go. I’m to take you to breakfast. Though, I’m not sure if it could be considered as such this late in the day."
She placed her hand in his, quietly allowing herself to be led out of the room and back to the dining room.
Along the way, Bastian kept his hand firmly wrapped around hers, refusing to let go, even as he sat her down in a chair and pushed it in for her, lifting a chair and moving it right beside hers. He sat down, his thigh pressing against hers.
No one else was in the room, just the two of them, and the table was not laden with an elaborate spread this morning, just a canter of citrus juice and a large platter of toasts with a few different types of jams and butter resting beside it, and the pastry tower stood in the middle of the table, a dwindling supply of sweet bread decorating it.
Bastian lifted a small butter knife and spread out some dark plum jam on a piece of browned toast, placing it on the dish in front of her.
"Eat up," the vampire instructed. He repeated the motion but chose a strawberry spread for his topping.
Luella tried to cover her shock as he took a large bite.
"You can eat?" Luella asked, peering over at him from under her lashes as she, too, took a bite of her toast, but a much smaller than the one Bastian took.
"Yes." He swallowed the toast and reached for two glasses, filling them with an orange-colored juice; he slid one over to her and took a sip of his own. "I can. I quite enjoy human food, in fact. It does nothing for me, though. Not like blood." He looked at her like he was waiting for her to grow angry at the mention of him drinking blood, but when she stayed silent, he continued. "Nothing will ever give the same satisfaction or nutrients as blood will, but solid food has its merits. Strawberries, for one." He winked at her, taking another bite of his toast topped with strawberry jam.
"Oh," Luella managed. She wished she had her study books with her to compare what she had learned of vampires and see if it was common knowledge.
They both grew silent as Luella finished her toast and washed it down with a few sips of juice.
She wondered why she felt so content and… almost safe … in the presence of Bastian, but he had not hurt her. Not like the King or Tharen and Graves. Something about Bastian reminded her of Az, a comforting presence. He had done her no harm, only gone out of his way to keep her safe, even if it was a nonconventional way of doing so. In his mind, trapped meant safe.
Luella reached for the bowl of fruit near the toast platter, popping a grape in her mouth. It nearly fell out of her mouth as a set of hands settled heavily on her shoulders.
"Hello to you, Princess," Tharen breathed over her neck. She quaked at the feeling of his hands on her shoulders, and he quickly swept a palm down her back before taking a seat at the head of the table—King Vale’s seat.
The Prima was shirtless, his tanned skin glistening with sweat. Luella had seen him without a shirt more than she had seen him with one. It seemed to be common for the warrior mage.
He kicked his boots up on the table and leaned back. Mud and dirt coated the bottoms of his boots, and she noticed a few red stains along his pants.
Tharen’s lips curved up into a dangerous mockery of a grin. A snarl masquerading as a smile, daring her to come closer, all while warning her to stay far away, lest she want to be torn to shreds by his glinting teeth and desperate claws. His eyes never left hers, even when he turned to speak to Bastian.
"Bastian," he taunted. "I see you got back safe, and where’s the first place you crawl to? Or should I say who ? Hm?"
Got back safe? Luella furrowed her brow, from her deep sleep and frazzled morning, she had forgotten all about what broke up the dinner from yesterday. The soldier who had arrived and informed the King of a siege on one of the villages. But that couldn’t possibly be right, could it?
Who would dare to instigate an attack on Serpentis? They were feared. They were the enemy, the cruel force of evil that threatened the other kingdoms. Who possibly would attempt an attack? And who could get away with it?
She wracked her brain, trying to remember her world history and politics lessons, but came up short. Couldn’t pinpoint any kingdom that had the means to stage an attack on Serpentis. Even the outermost villages, smaller and isolated, were still populated by fearsome dragon shifters with their fire and serpents with their venom, used as a defense to ward off attackers.
Bastian gripped Luella’s thigh. "And you, Prima? Just got back and look where you are," he commented. "Don’t feel invincible in your house of glass. You’re like the rest of us." He shifted his eyes to Luella, then abruptly changed the topic. "Where are the rest?"
"Around," Tharen drawled. He suddenly leaned up and reached over her, right for the tower of pastries. His bare arm brushed against her chest, and she suppressed a shudder.
The mage nabbed a pastry topped with a few fruit chunks. He looked up at her from under his lashes as he plucked a glazed, red berry from the top and sucked on it.
Bastian sighed heavily. "Fucking juvenile bastard."
Luella wasn’t sure what all the fuss with the berries was about, but this wasn’t the first time she had been taunted with the red fruit.
Bastian stood suddenly, offering a hand to her, and she took it, a little less hesitant this time. Tharen watched the whole exchange with rapt focus.
"Don’t gorge yourself on the berries, Prima. They can be sweet and tempting, but you can have too much of a good thing."
Bastian led Luella from the room, confident as he strode up the stairs, before depositing her back at her gilded cage, a lingering look in his reddened eyes and a hard set to his sculpted jaw.
Suspended in the false safety of her strange cage, every moment had been spent waiting, on pins and needles, for everything to come crashing down around her.
And she was getting tired of it.
There she sat, bare feet kicking against the side of the bed as she stared out the glass windows overlooking the beautiful mountain ranges and dimming light of the evening.
After Bastian had dropped her back off at her room once they finished eating, she had been left alone for hours. Not even the maids came to her. There was no clock to tell the hour, only the sun, as it fell lower and lower in the sky, gave her any hint of the passage of time.
She very well felt like she might go insane. Her mind was filled with screams from the gallows, blood pooling against the cracked stone stage; torn-apart limbs strewn across the marble of the castle floor assaulted her every time she closed her eyes.
The cawing of a raven followed after her like a phantom. At this point, she had no inkling if she was actually hearing the bird or if it was all in her head. But she swore she heard the faintest caw every now and again from outside the shut balcony doors.
She squinted, peering out into the dim evening. Nothing was there, just the faint puffy white clouds that dotted the sky, the moon rising slowly while the sun set. Even though it was nearly night, Luella was not tired.
No, she was very much awake.
No matter how hard she tried to fall asleep and forget it all, she was bombarded with the gruesome images she had seen in her horror-filled new life. She couldn’t leave this room and couldn’t sleep to escape. So, she sat. She tried to drown out the images that threatened to drag her under their spell with memories of warm touches and warmer skin. Lullabies and soft fingers that tickled against her palms as she drifted off, twirling strands of her matted hair—hair that should have been entirely off-putting but was touched like the purest strands of woven gold.
Luella flopped back against the bed, scrubbing her eyes with her palms like she might conjure up images of Az.
Her fingers tapped against her lower stomach as she thought of the demon. Her last memories of him were hazy in sickness, but one thing rang true: his worry-stricken voice calling out, I’ll come for you.
What if she could be the one to come for him?
Revenge simmered low, not at all forgotten. It had only grown as she sat in her misery and contemplation, hope withering and falling to the ground, listless, like the petals of a flower. Luella did not know how, why, or when, but she would have her revenge, even if it was the last thing she ever did. Which it would be. If she made it close enough to the King to hurt him and enact her revenge, she would have no chance of escaping with her life. Not with his watchful guard.
And certainly not with the Prima. Or his Advisor and the solemn shadow of Graves.
A fact she had resigned herself to was her death, one way or another.
But perhaps not…
Not with Az. Luella had never anticipated the protective demon. A friend in this palace of foes. With his strength and blood oath to her, she couldn’t fall to harm under his binding promise. She would have to find some way to get to him. Escape and plot, come back to finish what King Vale had started.
With a blooming hope in her chest, she drifted off to sleep.