23. Rorin
Rorin
She slipped away from us easily with the distraction of her slamming her glass down. It took us a moment to notice she was gone at all. I restrained myself from running after her out onto the floor and dragging her back to the table but now, as I watch her, I wish I had. I’m irritated at how unbothered she is with the amount of sweaty bodies moving around, grazing against, and clinging to her when she usually seems to be so averse to touch.
“Problem, lover ?” She asks, her voice sweet and sour all at the same time.
“Only with the ceaseless gyrating of the idiot behind you.”
Her cold laugh trills down the seal while she presses herself further into him and the others surrounding her. Her arms drift up into her hair and her head drops back a little. “A little early to get territorial wouldn’t you say, princeling?” My eyes rove all over her body and I think I hear a distant Will attempting to get my attention but it’s like I’m frozen, refusing to take my eyes away from her until a set of fingers snap in front of my face .
An all too knowing look from Axel comes into view. “You’re ogling, princeling.”
“I am not ogling. I am watching your charge to prevent her from getting herself into any trouble.”
Axel looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “She’s the Queen of Obsidian, if the drunken fool is unaware of who she is then he is no better than a unsuspecting fly roving too close to a spider’s web.” He snags my ale mug from me. “This is better than the shit at court, I’ll give you that. Look she makes terrible decisions. I think I’ve mentioned that before and if she can get herself in them then she can get herself out of them.”
“Most of the time.” Maxwell chimes in from behind me.
Axel bops his head to the beat, agreeing with Max. “Most of the time. So with that concern out of the way, we resort to the fact that you were ogling. Understandable after the performance you two gave earlier.” His eyes glint with suspicion.
“Are you always this annoying, Axel?” I ask.
“Only when I’m right.” He replies. When I look back out to where Eveera is on the floor, I see only random patrons in varying degrees of drunkenness. My eyes scan the room for her, but the damn woman is so fucking small it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. That is until the crowd parts just enough for me to see her sitting back at the bar, taking shots of suspicious blue and gold drinks. “That can’t be good.” I grumble mostly to myself. If she blacks out, I have a feeling she will find a way to blame me for it, which does not bode well for the star-crossed lovers ruse we are managing.
The painted bartender behind the counter skims his hand across her lower back. I wait for her reaction but nothing happens, she remains either unaware or purposefully ignorant of his boldness. The image of him suffocating from the the poison that courses through me flashes in my head, catching me off guard. Who touches her back should be none of your concern. I think, but at this point…there is a sinking realization that’s settled into the pit of my stomach. That from the moment she walked into her throne room - drenched in blood - I knew she would somehow become the center of every single one of my concerns.
“Oh boy.” Max murmurs into his drink. “You seeing this?” He asks, nudging Axel. Axel gives him a nod, shifting on the bench to stand.
“What? What’s wrong?” I question.
The three of them give each other a look before Orem bursts out into laughter. “Her little hip swaying and the sitting on bartops are going to be the least of your problems.” He comments, his head jerking towards the floor. In the two minutes I turned from her she made her way back onto the floor and completely tangled herself up with the same dancing idiot as before, who's hands have dropped precariously low on her hips teasing the slits in her dress.
I groan. "What’s my biggest problem then?”
“She tends to like clothes a lot less when intoxicated.” Axel’s snickering does not help the next thought I have, of course she fucking does.
I feel a knot starting to form in the back of my neck from this woman. “So you three figured she needed an escort when she went to get drinks, but you’re just going to casually let her drink herself until she gets naked?” The words are sharp, their expressions turning defensive. I don’t give them the time to argue back their bullshit explanation. The table wobbles as I storm away from them, making my way out to her on the floor.
Whatever the fool has said into her ear causes her head to fall back onto his shoulder her chest rumbling with laughter. His wandering hands drift up from her skirt and skate along her ribs. His first mistake was touching her to begin with, his second was where he thought his fingers were headed next. “What the he—” his words stop short when I grip both of his wrists in my hands, a line of poisonous smoke snaking up his arms and straight into his nostrils. I don’t often take pleasure in the sound of someone choking for air, but this time the sound calms something down in me.
Her big golden eyes lazily look up at me caged in between me and the man gasping and struggling in my hold. She drags her fingers down my chest, “aw, sucking the fun out of things are we?” She glances over her shoulder at him, his expression urging for her help that she won’t give him. I let him go before he passes out onto the floor and creates an even bigger scene, he gives us startled looks before darting off into the crowd gasping for his breath.
Her lip exaggerates into a pout and her words are loose from the alcohol. “And he was being so devout.”
“Is that what you want? Someone devout? Someone to worship you?”
Her hand drops from my chest, her gaze darkening. “Who needs worship?”
I chuckle stepping closer to her, her hand quickly going back up to put some space between us. I knock it out of my way and grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger her breath hitching slightly as I bring her face to mine. Gods when she does that… “I didn’t say need. I said want. Plenty fear you, Eveera. But if you want someone to worship you? You need only to point me to the altar.”
I can feel her heart rate quicken through her pulse as my other hand comes around to cup her nape, pulling her into me. The walls she is trying so hard to maintain in her mind are faltering. “You once said you wanted me on my knees begging. But what if I were praying?”
She swallows thickly, scanning my face for something. “Are you praying, princeling? ”
A smirk tugs on my lips, “am I on my knees, Nightmare?”
“I could bring you to them.” She suggests, that heady stare drawing me in.
All teasing aside, I dip my face low. The alcohol mixing with her scent overwhelms me our lips skimming one another. Gods this damn fucking woman. “Is that what you want?”
She pulls back the look she's giving me now has the same hatred in it that she held the day we met in her throne room. The truth to her feelings regardless of her body’s inclinations are written all over her face. “Torture truly is your specialty.” I mutter.
“I’ve hardly tortured you, Rorin.”
I drop my hands from her, the loss of feeling her warmth beneath my fingers is immediate. “What do you think this is?” I didn’t stick around to see the change in her face. But I don’t miss her words that hit my back.
“A game.”
I step outside, the warm air sweeping over me.
The alleyways are crawling with serviceable women and the men desperate and drunk enough to pay for their company. I tug at the ends of my hair, the curls wrapping around my fingers still caught up in our exchange I briefly think of her fingers being the ones my curls wrap around.
What is wrong with you? My conscience hisses . She puts on one show in front of everyone and that’s enough to have you panting after her? Gods. I’ve never been one to trail after women for more than a night, but apparently if they hate me and tries to kill me as a fun daily activity then they’ll have me tripping hand over foot .
Drunken patrons stumble out of the tavern some searching for a basin to vomit in, others looking for a dark corner in which to debase themselves, delirious laughter rings out all around me. My head drops against the stone behind me staring up at the night sky. I have no idea how we are going to pull all of this off. The hand portals and written correspondence have kept us up to date with the front lines. Since our last update things have been eerily quiet. Certainly not because of my father and his orders, no, he has something up his sleeve and the prickling sensation under my skin warns me it’s nothing good.
I’d caught them off guard with my initial suggestion to obtain Obsidian’s help, and I threw them off further when I showed up, Obsidian soldiers and queen in tow.
For a kingdom with magic that Wields in healing and not in defensive measures you would think they would have a more efficient military base. And we did at one point, but he’s whittled them down to the bare bones. Now I’m whittling her men down too, something that I wouldn’t have to do if we had brought her dragon with us. Fuck, she has a dragon and we can’t even use it. With force like that we’d have taken Baelor’s men within the day and my father would be forced to admit that getting them on our side was the right thing to do.
“There you are.” Bennett stares at me from under the glow of a street light.
“Here I am.”
The crunch of the stones under his feet echoes in the alley. “You’re hiding, Rorin Collier. Course I can’t say I blame you. The woman is downright terrifying. Guess that’s how she got her nicknames.” He smiles crookedly at me and for a second I see the same boy I met in the courtyard as kids, wooden sword in hand.
-
“ Hi. I’m Bennett Haid and I’m going to be a soldier one day.”
-
Will came along after and the three of us - much to his chagrin - have been tumbling on a path together ever since.
Bennett blows out a breath, “they seem more relaxed.”
“Are they drunk?” I ask.
I can feel the weight of his gaze on my profile. "Probably. Ror – just curious but…what’s her endgame?” My brows draw together and my lips flatten tightly against each other. I wish I knew. “I could believe she is doing this because she’s clearly infatuated with you but I don’t think that’s the only reason.”
“Bloody hell, Bennett. In what gods forsaken world does she seem infatuated with me?”
He rolls his eyes down at me. “Oh come on, Ror. Why else would she be doing this? Why else would she bait you the way she does? Unless it’s because of course she already knows that you are the infatuated one and is one hell of a manipulator.”
Probably the latter, I want to snap at him. But instead I tell him, “It’s a part we both are playing. One that will get us the outcomes we each hope for.” If only I knew what her outcome she hoped for was. He looks poised to argue with me further but a scream comes from inside the tavern quickly followed by a few more screams and people fleeing from the building. “ Fuck.” I mutter under my breath. We both bolt back into the building, shoving and elbowing the mob of patrons to get to the source. I could just barely feel it before Eveera’s magic slams into us at full force.
-
“P-please don’t lock me up here again. PLEASE.”, “Stupid boy. An omen if there ever was one.”
The wave of power knocks her off her balance just enough for one of the unaffected Guards to slice his sword through her stomach. “Open those eyes, Nightmare. I need you to give me those eyes…”
-
The nightmares both new and old assault my minds eye. I hear Bennett’s wails next to me the most over the screams of everyone else. I push against her Wield, fighting through the crowd to get to wherever she is at the center of the floor. When I reach it, I find her standing over them magic out and wrapping around two separate men who flail about in her grasp. Her uncontrolled Wield fights for control over my mind, Bennett’s screams rising the closer we get to her.
If I were to guess, I would say the alcohol she drank is playing a part. The lack of inhibitions causing it to leak past her two initial targets which causes the rest of us to suffer alongside them. I see Max from the corner of my eye the electricity zapping at the ends of his fingers drawing my attention. His gaze keeps bouncing back and forth between the queen and a heap on the floor. It takes me a few seconds to realize the heap is Millie and Orem and Orem is cradling her unconscious frame.
I look around for Axel and Will but can’t find them. “MAX!” He doesn’t acknowledge me at first. “MAX!” I try again, his head turning towards my direction. “What happened?” I shout over the commotion.
His face is grim, “after seeing the two of you on the floor. They figured out who she was. They must have spiked her drink with something! Millie took a sip of it before Evie could and started seizing almost immediately. Orem caught her as she went down and now we’re here!” His voice is strained, well practiced as he may be against Eveera’s power it’s evident it takes effort to keep her out of his head.
I feel around her mind through the seal, her walls are fractured as all the focus goes into tormenting the two fools in front of her. I don’t have to look at her face to know her eyes are completely black, her serpents depth of color pales in comparison to the darkness flowing out of her in droves. Both men are writhing on the floor, whimpering and sputtering.
Stepping away from Bennett I move behind her. “Eveera.” I whisper against the shell of her ear, my hands falling onto the triceps of her arms. She doesn’t respond to my touch but a slight twitch in her scowl let’s me know she heard me. “You’re drawing quite the scene here.”
“Am I?” her words are tight, clenched between her teeth.
“Mmhm.” I drop my gaze watching her work. “We’ll bring them back with us. Doing this here is only going to worsen our position. We need them playing into our hands, remember?” Her eyes flit to the left towards where Millie and Orem are. “She’ll be fine. But we need to go now. I need you to pull back.” Her body tenses at that request.
I move around her assailants and cup my hand over the first man’s nose, my magic filtering through his nostrils until the twitching stops. When I moved onto the next man I recognize his face as the idiot who danced with her. A rage was already building for what they tried to do to her in the first place and ended up doing to Millie. But now that rage was close to boiling over when I think of his hands and body having been pressed against Eveera’s for half the night.
Her magic dissipates, her eyes returning to their gold hue. I meet them for only a second before dropping the second man’s head. The tavern has completely cleared out save for the gold-painted bartender whose pupils are blown. A state of shock is plastered over his face.
Orem is still cradling Millie, her blonde hair spilling across his arm. Max gives her a brief once over, concern etched across his face before looking to me.
“We should go.” The five of us startle at Will’s voice. He and Axel approach us, both of them looking perturbed. “Before it gets out further, who she is. We don’t need another…” He waves his arm to gesture at us and the now empty tavern, “this happening.”
Entering court without alerting anyone was a tricky enough task, but then we had to go about getting a healer mage in here. Armond and Ezra join us in my rooms while Millie is being worked on. They determined it was ragroot that was used and by this point it had drained all the color from her already pale skin. Her blue veins stand out in stark contrast. We all sit or pace quietly as the mage works on her. The glowing warm pulse of magic radiates over her. By the end of it, her color has brightened slightly, but she still looks half-dead.
I thank the healer mage for their help and discretion on their way out of the apartment. “Keep an eye on her. That concoction was strong, but she will recover.” The woman looks warmly at Millie.
Bennett and Orem haven’t moved from her side. The question of when Orem and Millie became so acquainted crosses my mind before Will bursts into the room. “Does anyone want to explain what the bleeding gods happened down there?” He looks directly at Eveera. “Well?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious what happened.” Max says his voice raw.
Will’s jaw slackens feigning disbelief, “no it’s not pretty obv—”
“Where are they?” Eveera’s voice startles us.
“That’s all you can think about? Those men?” Will yells. “Millie could have died!”
A bitter smile crosses her face as she walks over to him, “well, Mousy, you asked what happened down there. Why don’t we go find out exactly what did happen.” His shoulders slump slightly in defeat but he moves to show her the way .
Looking over to Bennett, he shakes his head, his hand clasped around Millie’s. “We’ll stay here with Mill. In case she wakes up.” I nod following after Will and Eveera to the dungeons.
Despite their overall damp feel, they match the same gaudiness throughout the castle. Most of the cells are empty and look almost completely unused. Will quietly leads the group to the end cell. In the dim light two heaps - caked with dirt, gold, and sweat - lay unconscious. The door to their cell yawns open, the brass hinges screaming in protest at the motion. Eveera sweeps in, hovering over them. Her foot swings out and presses down on the larger of the two men’s throat. His body jolts from the pressure on his windpipe, both eyes flying open. The man’s hands dart up to try and grab her ankle but she is too quick for him. She repeats the process on the second’s throat. They try to scramble away from them but the poison in their system however makes their movements choppy and uncoordinated.
“Oh, stop your squabbling.” She barks, making them flinch at the sound. Taking a seat on the bench adjacent to them, Eveera looks over expectantly to Will, “well go ahead. This is your interrogation not mine, Sir.”
He clears his throat, stepping up to the men on the floor. “Last night or this morning, whichever way you choose to see it, the both of you decided to commit not only a crime against a Vellaran but an attempted crime against a guest of the crown and the queen of Obsidian—”
He’s cut off by Ezra’s growl. “Who sent you?” He asks his eyes vengeful. Armond pulls him backwards, muttering something into his ear that gets him to back off. I nod at Will to continue who sighs and turns back to the men.
“While I don’t appreciate the outburst from Commander Wake, his question stands. Who sent you? ”
The larger of the two men spits in the direction of Eveera, his saliva splattering on the stone floor. "She’s an abomination.” He snarls.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, dear.” She coos, making him spit at her again.
We do this back and forth for a while and the interrogation takes up most of the day with neither of them willing to give us an explanation as to why they spiked the drink. “I am bored with this. Is this really how you lot get information from people?”
Will huffs and glares at her, “you said this was my interrogation.”
“Well, that was when I thought you would actually incentivize them to answer.”
“I do not think your idea of incenti—”
“ENOUGH!” Both of them turn to me stunned. “If I have to listen to the two of you argue for another second, I’ll put the both of you out.” Eveera’s lips press in disapproval but at least she quiets. I crouch down in front of the accused men. “Let me be very clear here, gentlemen. You can give us the information we want, or you can die.” I wait for an argument from Will that surprisingly doesn’t come.
The bigger one of the two, who's named we found out is Zekiel, starts to laugh. His ruddy brown eyes are bloodshot and locked onto Eveera. “How did we miss you?” He asks. “You should have died the night she did.”
Eveera’s eyes flash and then something hot and sticky splashes across my face. I look down to see Zekiel’s head now on the floor at my feet. She is panting heavily in front of me, her eyes blackened and her magicked claws dripping with blood. I stand up and wrap my arms around her, pushing her back a few steps. The second man, Ryel, gapes in horror at his decapitated companion. “There.” She gasps her face turning into my chest for a moment. “Maybe we can turn him into a friend for Percy.” She half heartedly jokes while I switch the weight of her fully onto my left side.
I slip my hand down into the slit of her dress and reach for one of the daggers attached to her thigh. “I so wish I could have taken my time with you.” The words are low, he stutters trying to put together some half-assed argument to get out of this but those attempts are thwarted when the dagger sinks into his chest.
“Well, that was productive.” Ezra snaps storming out of the cell.
Once back in the room, Bennett had questions for us. Unfortunately, we had no answers to give.
Will rushed to the bathroom sick from the blood that splattered onto him. But I was less concerned about him and more concerned about the queen next to me. Her face is stricken, a mixture of hate, pain, and confusion. She didn’t bother closing her mental walls to me, those five words on a constant loop in her mind. 'How did we miss you?' What in the gods is that supposed to mean? I wonder. When Will returns, his skin has taken on a green pallor and he is wearing one of my night shirts.
We all wait in hesitation for her to say something as she paces back and forth the length of the room. “We end this fast. I want what is owed to me for my end of this deal.” Her voice is shaky as she says it.
“What exactly is owed to her?” Will asks quietly.
Her head cocks to the side, “I’m going to make our prince here a king.”