Chapter 18 Rorin
Rorin
Eveera looks completely unbothered, as does Millie. I can't wrap my head around the possibility that the two of them had time to plot and scheme. Not that they're incapable — but as far as I was aware, Eveera was still giving everyone the silent treatment.
Or maybe I've only thought that because she's made it painfully obvious that her list of priorities does not include — me.
Across the table, the princess stares blankly ahead. Her chair sits at a distance, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. What are they up to…
"A-hem.” Her — our — councilwoman, Alina, clears her throat, looking expectantly in my direction. “Well?"
"We obtained her in Suram. She's here as our ward, not our guest, regardless of the Queen’s… display. “ The words come through gritted teeth while Eveera quietly laughs in her seat.
Her cheeks grow red, and she turns her accusatory glare onto Felix. "Did you know about this?"
Felix shakes his head, his lips in a tight line as he straightens in his seat.
"I can only advise the Queen and her Consort on what they ask of me.
If they didn't see this matter as a matter fit for discussion," his voice is hard as he enunciates the last few words, dark eyes locked on Eveera, "then it's none of my business. "
"None of your… none of your business? You've ruled this kingdom longer than she has! You would think that the girl would owe you some respect for what you and this council ha—” SQUELCH!
A sharp scream rings throughout the room as Alina's words are cut squarely off, her tongue now sitting atop the plate in front of her. Her eyes are wide as she gasps and chokes on the blood pooling in and out of her mouth, the appendage mocking her from the table.
"Don't you ever get tired of listening to yourself?
" Eveera snaps, the tendril unfurling from around the muscle and disappearing back underneath her skin.
From my right, I can hear the sounds of someone retching and am surprised to find that this time it isn't Will, but one of the other council members.
My men look horrified at the flailing woman in front of them, while Max seems unfazed, and Pruella looks like she's going to join the sick councilman — her mouth open in shock.
"Eveera," Felix says sternly, and she rolls her eyes, waiting a few seconds before complying and waving over a few guards.
They help escort Alina out, hopefully to bring her to Marjorie, though I'm not sure what even she can do for the loss of tongue. At least she’ll be able to give a remedy for the younger guard tasked with carrying the severed organ and his upset stomach.
SLAM!
"That was barbaric." Will snaps, his hand hitting the table hard as he finally comes back to himself, the color resurfacing on his skin.
She lets her magic pool in her palm, manipulating it to wind around her arm, and levels her golden glare at him. "Would you like to join her, Mousy?"
"Eveera." Felix snaps again, this time more harshly than before.
"What?"
"One is enough." He reprimands, downing the contents of his drink and slamming the chalice on the table.
Will sputters over in his seat, pushing away from the table and his plate. "You're all going to sit here as if that did not just happen? Like, there isn't a pool of blood garnishing her abandoned plate of food?"
"Rorin, I would strongly advise you to make your man aware that my influence only goes so far with the Queen. I may not be able to dissuade her a second time."
Will folds his arms across his chest, his glare locked onto the three of us. "I can hear you."
"You can hear the words I am telling you, Sir, but that does not mean you will heed them."
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
A few hours after Eveera’s dinnertime outburst, I found myself pacing in front of Millicent's door, trying very hard not to stare at the cloak of magic shielding the end of the hall. I rock back and forth on my heels before knocking more insistently.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNO–
"Hello— oh. Rorin." She looks up at me, her fingers wound around strands of golden hair.
"We need to talk."
"I— oh… kay." She sputters as I push past her, making a beeline for her table of drinks."What do you need to talk about?"
My head shakes back and forth, pouring myself two fingers of the clear liquor. "No, not just me," I say, pointing my finger between the two of us. "We. We need to talk."
"Alright." She snaps for me to pass her a glass, and I pour out the same amount, handing it back to her. “One.. two… three.” Millie whispers before she tosses the fiery liquid back. "What do we — gods that's awful — need to talk about?"
I give her a sidelong glance, "you, Eveera… Pruella. The stunt the two of you pulled bringing her to dinner."
Her stare shifts down, and she sucks in a tight breath, backing up to the edge of her bed. "Eveera asked for my help, and I wasn't going to tell her no. Besides, I babysat Pruella the entire time she was with us in Suram — it's not like I couldn't handle her."
Fair. I note, but still, there should have been no reason to handle her. "Earlier today, I had to stop her from torturing the girl. Now she's having you truss her up like a doll and parade her around court."
"She went back to her cell," Millie interrupts.
"Regardless." I sigh, choking down another shot. She eyes the closed door across from her again, and I notice her fidgeting with her hands. "Millie?" She snaps her focus back over to me, giving me a strained and practiced smile.
CREEAAKK!
Both of our heads whip around to find Max standing in the bathroom doorway with his hair wet and a towel slung low around his hips. From the corner of my eye, I see Millie’s cheeks burn bright red. "We were just talking about Eveera…" She says sheepishly, looking anywhere but at me.
"Ah." He nods, leaning against the frame. "I wouldn't worry about Evie too much. She's always a bit theatrical, and if she's parading around the princess, it's to prove a point.”
“I–”
“You brought a stranger into her home and expected her to be fine with it. But right now? Evie’s thinking that you found her too stupid to realize what you’d done. What did you think was going to happen?"
After my conversation with Millie and partially with Max, I found myself in the throne room, waiting for her to come back. The expansive room still smells heavily of charred flesh, but at least there’s no more bones adorning the floors.
I stretch out my legs, slumping further down into the cold obsidian throne, rubbing my temples back and forth.
"Your boldness grows more every day."
Her voice jars me from my thoughts, and I look down.
She walks around the base of the dais, a hand ghosting along the edges of the rock.
Eveera peers up at me through her dark, thick lashes, her golden orbs glowing.
Slowly, she slinks up the steps until she stands in front of me, her head cocking to the right as her gaze now peers down.
I refrain from reaching out and tracing the edge of her jaw and settle for dragging my eyes up and down her lithe frame.
"Well, your avoidance grows more noticeable.
I take issue with that." Her hair has fallen loose from the wind, and the black kohl she lines her eyes with is smudged underneath her eyes.
When my focus finds its way back to her face, those ruby red lips are pulled into a smirk, and both toned arms are folded across her chest. I push up from my seated position, her breath hitching – the sound as intoxicating as always – while I close the distance between us.
"I take…" She sucks in another breath, and I reach to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes tracking the movement the entire time. "Issue with you infecting everything in my life." She spits the words out, but they don't land as harshly as she'd like them to.
I suppress the laugh that builds in my chest because it was only so long ago that I thought the same.
My restraint snaps, and my finger ghosts down her cheek, hooking underneath her chin.
I dip my face down until our cheeks brush against each other.
Eveera goes still when my lips graze the outer shell of her ear, "you have infected every part of me for months, Nightmare. "
Her hand comes up and lightly grips around my wrist, aiming to remove my hold. Not in the mood for her rejection yet again, I grab hold of her shoulders and switch our places. With her back now to her throne, I take a step down, putting myself below her gaze again.
I walk backwards down the steps, her face stunned as she watches me walk away. "Stop avoiding me, Eveera.” I call out, “this punishment has lasted long enough."
A cruel and disbelieving laugh echoes throughout the room as I take myself out into the hallway, making my way slowly back to my quarters.
Once inside, I slide down the downs, my head falling into my hands. Every time I am around her – in her space – it takes an egregious amount of effort to not shake her and make her see that I’m not the enemy she needs to be fighting.
BUM! BUM! BUM!
"Rorin!"
BUM! BUM! BUM!
I groan, rolling over onto my side, the sound of thumping disrupting my already tumultuous sleep. "Why…"
The door creaks open, and I feel something weighty drop on top of my covers. Annoyed, I peek open an eye long enough to see the glint of silver before someone grabs ahold of my foot and shakes me rapidly. "Ror-innn, get up. CHOP! CHOP!"
Bennett.
Tossing the covers back, I push up from underneath them and reach out for the hilt of the sword he dropped down. "What's this?"
He frowns, and a soft knock echoes, "is he ready?" Will asks, a tinge of eagerness in his voice.
"Ready for what?" I grunt, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand.
"It's morning." They answer simultaneously, before Bennett adds, "in the morning, we spar. Let's go, up up your Highness."
I gnash my teeth at the two of them, kicking my legs over the side of my bed and disappearing into the bathroom. Into the bathroom that has a mirror – and I look like hell.
There are dark, heavy bags underneath my eyes — I can thank my lack of sleep for those – and the exhaustion is clear through every line in my face.
Running a hand underneath the hot water, I splash the droplets up onto my face and rake my damp fingers through my hair, the curls slowly untangling as I work through them.
They’re both waiting for me, Will tossing my clothes at my feet while Bennett does the same with my sword. Quickly, I dress and Will, in an uncommon sign of familiarity as of late, dips his chin and clasps my shoulder.
The three of us walk through the dark hallways towards the sparring arena, the sounds of her army practicing ringing out distantly in the background, the closer we get.
“Will, moderate for us, will you?” Bennett chirps, unsheathing his sword and taking up a stance in front of me. He spins the hilt of his sword in his right palm and crooks his fingers at me with his left.
Cracking my neck side-to-side, I draw out my own sword and mirror his position.
He makes the first move, diving for my knees and cutting his blade down. “So, last night was… interesting.” His comment distracts me, and I jump away from the bladetip at the last second, his sword meeting stone instead of my ankle.
Spinning on my toe, I bring mine up and over, “she has her way.” I grit.
Bennett recovers quickly and brings his blade back up, the metal colliding loudly together.
"OOF!" He grunts at the weight of the impact, pushing him back.
“Her ‘way’ should not include mutilation daily. And of one of her nobles!” Will shouts over the clamor.
I shrug and circle Bennett, the two of us engaging in a game of chicken. “That was… a bit unorthodox.”
“Unorthodox? It was mental.”
I huff, “what do you want me to do about it now?” Bennett uses the diversion to kick out at my foot, causing me to stumble forward, "fuck!" I hiss, fighting hard to catch my balance.
There’s a snort of laughter, and the three of us pause, turning our heads. In the archway are Max and Millie snickering. I roll my eyes and focus back on Bennett. He shifts over on my left, and I lunge towards him, jamming the pommel into his ribs.
He sucks in a sharp breath, doubling over from the hit. "Don't… tell me you're going to start fighting dirty." He coughs out.
"A pommel," I pant, adjusting my footing and bringing my sword back up, "is just as dirty as a foot, Haid."
CLANK!
“What I want you to do about it–”
“NOT NOW WILL!” We both shout, sparks flying off the edges. We push our blades into an "X", the sweat visible on both our brows.
"You going to call it?" He grunts through clenched teeth. His eyes dart over to Will, who’s quieted himself on the sidelines. He waits a few beats, then nods, telling us to back off and regroup.
We split off the floor, and I head over to the weapons table, choosing which item I'll go for next.
A sharp gasp rings out from behind me, and a burning sensation spreads through the right side of my head.
A garnet droplet hits the blade gripped in my hand, and slowly I lift my chin to see a throwing star embedded in the wall.
Setting down the weapon, I bring my hand up to my ear, grazing the torn skin.
“Ouch!” I hiss, pulling my fingers away to see the sticky red liquid on the pads of my fingers.
Damn woman. I smile to myself, inhaling a big breath before I pivot around.
Eveera stands at the edge of the floor, a smug look on her bronzed face as she palms a second one.
"Now see, Bennett, that was fighting dirty.”