Trio's hand shot to his mouth, pinching at the grin forming at his lips before he covered his eyes and laughed. "You can't be serious." He chuckled.
Aziel leaned against the doorway. He was serious. Of course, he hadn'tintentionallycaught the beast, but the tower was the safest place to keep it until he found another place for him. "He behaves well enough. He is a hungry little fucker, but he's learned some patience. I think one hunt a day should fare him well." He smiled at the beast in front of them before stepping into the room.
A curled serpentine form roused from it's slumber, it's blue eyes blinking at two separate times before it's head seemingly perked with excitement. It's white scales rippled happily, it's tail swiping back and forth against the wooden floor. The drake was about the size of a large dog now. When Aziel first found him, he'd just hatched and could fit in the palm of his hand. And while Aziel's research concluded that the drake would not get as large as their dragon cousins, the creature would certainly need to leave the tower within the next few weeks if he wanted it to survive. He knelt down beside the drake, extending his hand to thewet snout. From the doorway, Trio watched with an open mouth as Aziel began scratching underneath the beast's chin.
"Does it have a name?" Trio stammered, his steps cautious as he approached.
Aziel picked up a paw that was roughly the size of his head. Trio leaned down, examining the deformed extremity. Unlike the other paws, this one was much smaller with creases cutting through the flesh that looked like a rope had been tied far too tight around his developing limb. His confusion was replaced with understanding, his chest squeezing around the melancholy that'd formed there.
"His name is Tre'an." Aziel stated it with such pride that Trio had to do a double take. Aziel never looked like this at something before. Nearly twenty years of being at his side and Trio hadn't seen this man's eyes sparkle quite like they were now.
"Tre'an…" Trio repeated the name in a whisper, his own hand coming down upon the ridged flesh of the creature's head. Horns were starting to form in the raised places, all four of them just dulled white nubs. "Strong."
Nymiria looked at her features in the mirror of Dorid's study, her fingers trailing over the silver freckles along her shoulder when the door behind her clicked shut. She turned away from herself, pulling up her glamour. It'd been a long day and after what transpired between her and Aziel, her false skin felt heavy. She wished that Dorid would allow her to be herself, that he cared about her well-being enough to understand that her glamour was exhausting.
She didn't remember much about her magic lessons in the Beyond, but something that was rooted into them from a very young age about their powers was that each use of magic required energy depending on where you pulled it from. It was the price one had to pay in order to wield. Every Seelie child was born with the ability to glamour themselves, to take on a new identity as a form of protection. And aside from simple elemental powers and certain glamouring magics, havingan ability beyond those things—abilities that could physically manipulate the earth and living things—were considered Graces, gifts from the gods.
Still, despite the aching in her limbs, she turned to Dorid and forced a smile as she watched him take his seat at his desk. He was handsome, as always, in the way that villains were always handsome. But there was a distinct tiredness to him that hadn't been there this morning when they were breaking their fast with one another. He let out a relieved sigh as she approached him, her hands secured behind her back until he invited her to take a seat. She bowed and slipped into the chair directly across from him.
"I'm afraid this meeting will be rather brief, my dear. We've just received word of something rather disturbing." He explained. Nymiria nodded slowly, her fingers tugging at a loose thread on the sheer overlay on her gown. "Just the other day we had two hundred Mystics escape the camps overnight and now… I've received word of a band of fire wielders that have burned down one of the villages in Fairmont." A large hand came up and massaged his brow. He wasn't wearing his crown, which was usual after his days in council. "Have you made any progress with Aziel?" His eyes flickered up to meet hers.
Nymiria was quite used to his heated gaze. Especially when it was directed towards those who went against his wishes, but for her to be at the receiving end of those glares was a rare occurrence. She frowned. "Unfortunately, I've found myself having a bit of trouble being able to charm him, your Majesty."
"What kind of trouble?" His voice was a near-snarl, his eyes narrowing. When Nymiria acted taken aback by his tone, Dorid seemed to soften, raising a hand to his heart. "Forgive me, love. As I said, it has been quite a long and exhausting day."
She didn't care too much about his excuse. She shook her head and mustered the sweetest smile possible, shoving her thoughts into the vault in her chest and locking them away. "It's understandable. But to answer your question, it seems as if Aziel and I do not particularly get on very well with one another." She shrugged.
"What have you done to anger him?" Accusatory. Typical. Nymiria sank her teeth into her cheek to bite back a nasty retort, her hands curling to fists in her lap.
"Nothing, your Majesty. I have only been myself."
Dorid let out something between a chuckle and a scoff, his eyes cutting at her before turning to the gilded goblet perched on top of a set of books. "Well, my dear,yourselfis sometimes a lot to handle. Might I suggest you… dullyourself?"
She was going to explode. There was a reason she played the pretty pet—a reason that she was doing everything that he asked of her. She clutched to that reason harder than ever, like a lifeline, but her patience was fraying.
There is nothing wrong with you, Nymiria.A phantom voice whispered, caressing over her skin like cool silk. She shivered, keeping her eyes trained upon the king as he meandered around his office in search of something, mumbling to himself. She swallowed.You are beautiful, but you do not belong here. There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing wrong—
The sting of tears and the thickness in her throat alerted her, snapped her from her trance and from the flicker of golden hair and green eyes in her peripheral. "I will try harder, your Majesty."
Dorid turned to her, his expression hard as he leaned against the edge of his desk. "I want you training with Philter this week. Starting tomorrow. And I have arranged for your belongings to be moved to the tower that Aziel occupies. I do believe that being close to him will give you more of an advantage—perhaps you could even sneak up on him while he is sleeping. Philter will help you devise a plan. But," his eyes turned to thin slits once again, the deep ocean blue of them seemingly turning black the longer he looked at her. "I want Aziel dead within the month. If not, you will be removed from your duties as courtesan and placed with the servants. Is that understood?"
Her heart was pounding in her ears, her palms gathering sweat as she stared up at him. She was good at masking her anger, but the mask was starting to slip away. "Yes, your Majesty."
She had to do it. One way or another, she had to kill Aziel. And even though there was not a single shred of desire in her body to see him dead, she knew that this was the only way.
Dorid walked towards her with swaggering steps, shrugging out of his gaudy robe and tossing it into the chair beside her before kneeling down so that their eyes were level. Nymiria embraced his presence with loving eyes, looking at him as a daughter would look at her father. "You are my most beautiful creation, Nymiria. Though I am not your father by blood, I believe that I am your father in my soul. We are bound, you and I, by something incomprehensible to the simpler minds around us." His hand came up to her face, the pad of his thumb smoothing over the curve of her jaw. "Do not disappoint me. I am Aziel's father, too. Allow his fate to be a lesson of what happens when even my own blood decides to go against me."
There was nothing that she cared to argue in that regard. Her task was simple, no matter what lesson Dorid believed she could learn from this. He'd played the perfect tutor to her, but the killings he'd forced her to commit never taught her anything and only further proved how selfish of a man he truly was.
She could punch something. Or someone. If anyone crossed her path without having pure intentions, they would be faced with her wrath. That much was certain. Her anger bubbled in her chest, twisting in her stomach until she felt like she’d be sick.
Turning down the corridor that led to her room, she was startled by the bustling forms of servants that were weaving in and out of her doorway, carrying trunks that were filled with her belongings.
Your anger is not with them.The voice was back. And as much as she loved to hear that voice, in this particular moment it made her want to scream.
She had half the mind to pull that dagger out of its holster, hunt down Aziel Haze, and finish this job before she drove herself insane having to sit and listen to Dorid chastising her about things he was too cowardly to take into his own hands.
There wasn’t a time in the nine years she’d been killing for him that she asked questions aboutwhyher targets deserved to die, but the question of Aziel’s betrayal hung heavy over head.
