Her eyes light up. “Well in that case, I guess I’m staying,” she laughs as she swings herself around the side of the couch and throws herself into the recently re-cushioned seat. “If I leave now and she sees me in passing, she’ll hound me through the halls once she’s done with you.”
Oraphia is… something else.
I’ll give her that.
Eve crosses an ankle over her knee as she settles into the seat, a smarmy smirk on her face.
“This isallyou,” she says, raising surrendering hands to her chest as she looks me over. “You’re a fucking mess.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” I reply, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“How ‘bout you tell me what happened?” she counters.
“I lost a raven.”
Her head tilts to the side in a slow tip with my answer. She gives me a scrutinizing stare as if I’ve spoken in a foreign language. And before she can launch the sharpness lying upon her tongue, I continue.
“I tried to save the damned creature last night.” Her scathing stare grows more severe. “I failed. It died. I kept it overnight to tend to it this morning.” I point to the overturned basket on the floor a few feet away.
She drags her stare to the basket and back.
“You lost… adeadbird?” Her question truly emphasizes the less than sane aspects of this whole situation.
Unable to find the right words, I nod.
I lost a dead bird.
Rather morosely comical now that I think about it.
I rub at my brow.
Pitching herself forward, Eve slaps my hand away from my face. “Stop touching your damn face,” she laughs. “You’ve soot all over your hands. You look like you’ve taken Ashdown too far.”
The door swings open and both our heads swivel, eyes wide.
Frozen in the doorway, Oraphia’s eyes bounce from me to Eve before taking in the whole of the room. With a strangling silence she closes the door behind her softly, careful of the basket perched against her hip. It’s filled with everything I need for a raven-sized funeral pyre.
Bracing myself for the lecture of all lectures, I suck in a deep breath and hold it tight. Instead, Oraphia smiles and I nearly cough. Eve turns her wide eyes to her folded hands in her lap.
I’ve broken Oraphia.
“Lady Ves,” she chimes warmly. “Having a rough morning?”
I stammer and Eve scoffs a disbelieving laugh.
A rough morning.
Let’s call it that.
?????????????
A kaleidoscope of colors streaming from the stained glass window above washes my hands and arms in an array of red, blue, green, and gold. I’ve stared at the slow-shifting colors for the past ten minutes, sitting at a table in the library as I wait for Lilith.
I’m less than excited.
I’ve been advised not to leave the castle grounds without the company of CyranorRyc thanks to Rowen’s news. Now there’s no chance of Ryc ignoring my little escapades and all the chance of him growing protective and territorial.
I understand why.
