“'Your Highness',to you.” Lori stuck her nose up snootily.
“I'll call you what I please. You're no royal to me,” Lephas growled, surprised when the little faerieglowered back at him.
“Get back on the mat,” he instructed, rising to his feet.
“Or what?” she goaded.
“Or I drag you back onto it.”
“Alright, but only because the fire is there and I'm freezing.” Lori rolled her eyes at him before steadily crawling back across the room. Once she was comfortable, she examined the manacles.
“Before you ask, they're staying on.” Lephas crossed his arms.
“Did I say anything?” Lori replied, her tone short. She quickly ran her eyes over him. “What are you, anyway? Some sort of half-breed?”
Lephas snorted. “A half-breed? Half of what?”
“Well, I don't know, but you're not wholly demon, are you?” she replied haughtily. “Where's all the disgusting patchy fur, the slime and the poison claws? ...And you don't have fangs.”
Lori jumped and shuffled away as Lephas suddenly dropped and crouched to look at her.
“I don't know what books you've been reading, Princess, but I can assure you I'm all demon.” He fixed her with a glare. “And I do so have fangs.”
He snapped his teeth at her, making sure to flash the lengthy incisors.
“Y-you mean... All demons look like you?” she asked warily. Maybe it was just because she was sat near the fire again, but Lephas could have sworn the princess looked flushed... Embarrassed?
Lephas shrugged, getting back to his feet. “For the most part. What kind of horror stories are they telling you up the hill?”
“Well, let's just say the pictures in my father's books are completely inaccurate!” Lori laughed dryly. “Maybe if they hadn't been, I would have hadmuchmore interest in reading them,” she added quietly.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Lephas narrowed his eyes.
Lorisimply eyed him up and down again, but this time she smiled.
“Oh, nothing.”
Lephaswatched curiously as she carefully unravelled her braid. The faerie wincedas she shook loose the hair around her wound.
Demons generally tended to be dark in complexion. Though some were red-headed, most women Lephas had encountered had been dark, varying shades of brunette. They all chose to wear their hair short or tied back. It was a sad truth that few had enough coin to keep their hair well-groomed.
Lori's shone like silk, bright like the sun. Some streaks were so blonde, they were almost white. She casually ran her fingers through the knots that had formed, tousling her dampcurls in front of the fire's heat. Her hands paused and Lephas realised with a start that she was looking at him.
“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he stammered, coughing into his hand.
“Like I'm a prize pig at a fair. What – are all demon girls bald or something?”
“Of course not! I was just trying to look at your wound now your hair is down,” Lephas lied.
“Hm.” She sounded unconvinced, but turned her attention back to her hair. “It hurts. I don't suppose you have any painkilling herbs with you? Or, better yet, know any healing majick?”
“You know damn well that we don't,” Lephas growled.
It wasn't totally true – Haros had been sent to one of the underground majick schools as a child. He knew an array of basic healing majicks, which had come in handy more than once.
But Lephas wasn't about to sail his friend down the river. If this plan went sideways, he would hate to be responsible for the King's Guard picking up Haros.
