Reshina
Arthur was unwell.
It was clear by the stiffness in his shoulders—the edge in the way his jaw flexed as he chewed the braised beef Piffle had prepared with red wine and a melody of carrots, onion, and potatoes.
He’d developed a tick since I’d seen him last—returning the book of poetry where I had annotated my thoughts alongside his.
He’d changed his clothes as I had mine, and each time I turned to look at him, his eyes would dart away with a sharp turn of his head.
“What bothers you, Arthur?” I asked, daintily slicing into a golden potato.
“You,” he answered in a clipped tone.
“Me? I’ve done nothing to—”
“Your choice of gown, Goddess. It seems Piffle is out for blood.”
I glanced down, observing the newest dress.
With a silky black bodice and heart shaped neckline, my shoulders were exposed, a tie wrapping around each of my arms and trailing down the gown.
The set of teeth marks just below my neck and a red slash along my shoulder were bright red and a decent replacement for any jewelry the gown needed.
“So I must cover myself or sit at dinner with a man who sulks?”
“Wear what you like. But I may sit here sulking in order to control the Beast while you do. Your wound is still fresh. I can smell your blood. I’m doing everything I can to keep him from launching from this seat, Reshina.”
“Sorry to disturb your peace, then. Suppose I could take my meal elsewhere.” I rose swiftly, egging him on and picking up my plate. I was growing rather fond of this teasing.
“Sit. Down.” Arthur enunciated each word while his hands gripped his fork and knife.
I admired his hands—the way the veins surfaced across his skin.
The way his knuckles shifted from red to white as he bared his teeth in more commands I had no intention of following.
“You will finish your meal. Then, you will slowly leave. You will not turn your back. You will not retire in the library. You will go to your rooms and bar the Goddessdamned door.”
“Hm,” I huffed. “I think not.” I set my utensils down on my plate, picked up my glass of wine and took a sip while still standing. “I have a proposition for you, actually. One I think both you and the Beast will thoroughly enjoy.”
“Reshina…please…” He met my eyes, his voice pleading.
“Since you seem to be on the edge of ferocity, I’d like to offer something in exchange for my help with a small…project.” I set my glass down, slowly, careful in my movements. “I will allow the Beast to bite me again and for you to ease the fever that follows.”
He certainly wasn’t expecting it. His hands relaxed and he shook his head slightly, dumbfounded for a few precious moments.
“If,” I continued, taking a short step away from my chair, “you help me capture an Underfae.”
“No.” He returned to his meal, head down, slicing into his meat with careless abandon.
I took another step back. “Oh? Surely you and the Beast want what I offer.”
“The Underfae cannot be captured.”
“I have ideas on that front.”
“And I will not risk the Beast’s bite on you again. You nearly died.”
“And you were there to save me,” I appeased, taking another step and adding bluntly, “With your mouth.”
Arthur slammed the point of his knife into the table and bolted from his seat, the chair flying out behind him.
The knife handle swayed at the force, making a warbled sound between us.
He pointed at it. “Take it. Take it and drive it into my chest. Ease me from this madness.” His breathing came harsh as he stiffened his arms, his hands lain flat on the surface of the table.
He shuddered as he breathed, letting his head fall between his shoulders.
I took another small step towards the arched exit.
His eyes darted in my direction, his face surprisingly stoic. “I am a gentleman,” he began.
“You’re hardly one of those.”
“A Beast, then,” he snapped. “Whatever I may be, I am bound to you. And you to me. Whatever notions you have that the Underfae can help you leave—”
“I need their venom.” His eyes narrowed but I continued.
“Whatever was in their bite, it did not allow me to heal for some time. You retained their marks as well.” The distance between us grew as I took one more step away.
“If the Beast can be…poisoned for a short while, I will have more time to escape him. I need only thirty more seconds and I can leave the boundary of this land before he can catch me.”
Arthur’s eyes fell to the floor, his mouth settling into a frown. “You will not kill me, but you will poison me?”
“I do not want you dead, Arthur. I just want you…slow.” A shiver ran through me, images of the double entendre dancing through my mind.
“I will do it,” he conceded. “I will help you without the bite.” He turned back to his chair, lifting it from where it fell on the floor. “Go. We will discuss the details of the plan in the morning.”
“You do not wish to bite me?”
“It is unnecessary and risky.”
“Tell me, did the Beast settle after he bit me? Was your mind clearer, your ability to hold him at bay stronger?”
“What of it?”
“I’ll need your clarity. I’ll need you. I cannot have you roaming the surface for half the day when it comes time to capture the fae and extract its venom. If that means the Beast must get his taste for my blood to ease from yours, so be it.”
“Reshina,” he growled, refusing to look at me.
I took several steps back, slipping out of my heeled shoes in the process. “You see my logic and yet you refuse what you want. I’m offering myself to you.” I reached the stone archway that led into the corridors. “Take it.”
His head turned slowly, eyes black as an obsidian night, replacing the steely blue. The planes of his face hardened, and the corners of his lips lifted as he gave me his answer. “Run.”