He had his hands in his pockets and looked right at me, following my every move. "The Great Hunt is in full attendance," Inanov muttered. I raised an eyebrow while the prince ascended the steps of the dais to take his seat. The vacant seat above him was the throne.
"The Great Hunt? Why do they go by that name?" I asked, the name sparked an unfamiliar interest in the deep depths of my soul.
"I would have assumed that you would have already known. Considering your rather intimate introduction with the demon back in Abdera," Adrion snidely commented. I threw him a sharp look and wondered if he could possibly still be jealous of such.
"It is entirely accurate that these abraax demons have been toRiaanand back. You feel the wind before you see them, they are as close to hell as you will ever get. They are demonic hunters, bred for the chase. They ride fire kelpies as horses and whatever it is they want, they always get. They never falter and they never fail." Adrion spat out the last words and then put his chin on his fist in boredom, eyes wandering the golden ball that was in full swing.
I wondered how many in his lifetime he must have attended. The music had a happy glee to it and yet was completely dull, my fingers began twitching, aching to take control of the damned instrument and make a much more fitting tune worthy of sound.
A sugary sweet voice came from below. I held my spear tight and moved my eyes downward without moving my head. "Adrion." Izlana bowed down, her violet gown was extravagant yet her skirts looked entirely too big for her small frame.
"Izlana." The prince reached out for her palm and pressed a kiss upon it, the action made me look away. I did not want to intrude in their private moments, not only because it belonged to them but it caused my blood to become warmer.
"You look extravagant upon the light's grace, my Prince," she complimented and I had to control the urge to roll my eyes.
Did she think the same of her brother?
"I must agree, the light does do something with your hair. Nearly blinded me from afar." A deep voice tsked. The chilling embrace of Diavelo's power circled us like prey.
"Is that a weakness I hear, demon?" The prince bit back. Izlana blanched at the sight of Diavelo and turned to stand beside Adrion.
"Wouldn'tyoulove to know if I had a weakness," Diavelo teased and ascended the stairs. I held out my spear, stopping him in his tracks. This spear would have done nothing to the likes of him but it would at least keep him at a distance. The tension around the ball was high, and everyone tried to continue their merry as per normal.
"Morana." His voice released my name with softness. "You are put to shame by having a title as simple as bodyguard when it is the title of a goddess that is better fitting." His eyes roamed my body. I cast my eyes to the side and found Adrion's face emotionless.
I controlled the burn on my cheek from the demon's words and responded, "You have Lorian to thank for that." The demon had a look of apprehension, as if he were trying to imply that it wasn't the clothing that he was simply complimenting.
"I assure you, I am not a threat to the princetoday. The king can surely confirm." Diavelo smirked and looked to the steps above me. I had been too distracted with the demon to have noticed the announcement of the King and to all who had bowed.
"You may put down your weapon, guard," the powerful voice of the king said from behind me. I swallowed and calmed my pounding heart which felt like it was seconds away from ripping itself apart. I retracted the spear immediately and cast my eyes down, feeling embarrassed.
The demon picked off an invisible lint from his sleeve and greeted the king. "Solaire, it is a pleasure to see you again. Thewelcome party was not entirely needed for our arrival." The demon did not bow and neither did he show respect in his words.
The king did not look amused as he took his seat, and replied in an uninterested tone, "This ball is not only for your arrival. It is for my son's conquest. And..." the king's fearsome eyes met mine, "for the selection of his bodyguard." Adrion ignored the conversation and pretended to be listening to whatever Izlana was saying yet his eyes were trained on the demon.
"Fascinating," Diavelo responded, making his way up. At first, I had assumed he'd be going to the king, but I was stunned when I felt him take his place by my side. His aura had my skin flaring in goosebumps and I had to swallow a nervous lump down my throat. I held my chin up, not showing the effect this demon had on me. "You and I have much to talk about," Diavelo lowly says, his sudden statement made my eyes widen. I had been used to his poetically cunning statements in conversation but to hear him be this blunt was a complete pallet change.
"There is nothing for us to talk about." I bit out softly and looked among the crowd, hoping I would see the familiar faces of my family. The ballroom was enormous, it extended to the garden which gave it a more open look.
"You're looking for them, but they aren't here. Are they?" he whispered and it made my attention snap to him.
"What are you talking about?" My heart thudded and then stilled. How did he know?
"Sun priestess." Adrion nodded his greeting to the woman wrapped in a white modest dress with a gold roped belt around her middle, I momentarily shifted my focus to the woman.
"It is good to see you after your travels, Your Highness." The woman gave a graceful bow and then dipped her milky white finger into the bowl of golden liquid to swipe against his forehead. "The sign of glory," she announced.
She then moved over to me and looked me up and down. Her emotionless face seemed to turn slightly sour as she dipped her finger into the bowl and brought it to my forehead. The liquid felt warm with her finger and it swiped down in a straight line and went above to make a circular shape. "The sign for alertness, warrior," she stated almost mockingly. The priestess then moved over to the demon and something knowing went over her eyes as she brought her palm up to his forehead.
With a flash, he caught her arm tightly. "Do not touch me. I do not need your backhanded blessings." His face was calm and collected yet he growled out the words. Her eyes widened and stepped away in fear.
A loud deep bell was rung and everyone had quietened, the priestess fumbled and then turned to the audience. "It is time for us to commence in prayer now that our ruler graces us with his presence." The priestess's voice was strong and yet lilting.
"Let us begin," her voice echoed.
For the Sun graces us
the eternal nectar of Apollo's blood
