The High Halls were majestic in their beauty, both repelling and welcoming their latest arrival. Court had convened and Lord Anteela was once again in residence. She walked the halls slowly, easily finding her way to the section of the building claimed by her line when they deigned to reside here; which was far too often in the case of her parents and not often enough when considering her. As far as she was concerned, any place was better than here.
The hall she currently walked boasted a symphony of marble, glass, and gold. Various alcoves dotted the passage, containing fountains or benches: perfect for moments of silent contemplation or intimate conversation. The wards had been updated since her last visit, she noted, then cringed when she realized how long she had been absent. The doors that marked the entrance to her halls easily admitted her when activated. So close now, she could almost feel the warm water of the bathing room.
Weary from travel, she brushed aside the curtain that marked the entrance to her quarters. Entering, her thoughts were consumed by the prospect of a warm bath, fresh clothing and the comfortable bed that awaited her. Being so lost in the thought of her creature comforts, she failed to immediately notice that she was not alone. Barely here an hour and the assassination attempts have begun, she thought mentally rolling her eyes. Having been escorted by a fully armed guard, obvious weapons were not required which left her in the negligent state of being unarmed.
In the shadows stood a man. He observed her quietly, warily. His were arms hidden from site in the folds of cloth, perhaps a cloak or cape. His colors and crests were indistinguishable between his stance and the dim lighting. He wasn't familiar, so he most likely was not her peer. Was he a paid assassin, sent to secret himself in her room, to kill her quietly? Was he an underling of some sort who nursed a long past grudge? Who had she offended on her last trip? She didn't think it was anyone of import, where import meant one with the power and the resources necessary to execute this attempt. Biting back a weary sigh, she gave the first parry.
"Who are you and why are you here?" The ice in her voice was a warning belied by the casual stance she adopted. The more at ease she appeared, the more dangerous she was. To the stranger's eye, she was unconcerned. He responded at leisure, wondering how lethal this woman was; knowing appearances were deceiving and mistakes were costly.
"You must be Lord Anteela. I was to ensure that your rooms were in order before you returned. You are much earlier than expected." The velvet in his voice was a caress that washd over herbody and she truly regarded him for the first time. He appeared as any Barrani would; tall, pale, and beautiful. Perhaps his hair was a touch longer than most who serve. It was definitely blacker than most. Drawing herself to her full height, Anteela advanced on him, noting his slight height advantage. She also noted the width of his shoulders, broad for their kind and encased in the garb that her guards we issued. Strong shoulders, that begged her hands to run over them. Mentally, she followed his shoulders down his arms to his hands. Slightly larger than her, they appeared strong. She wondered if they could be strong and gentle, at the same time. How they would feel on her skin, running down her…damn. It had been too long since she last indulged her physical side, and now look at her, lusting after the first guard she saw. She must be more tired that she thought.
His delicate brow arched in response to the hint of lavender that stole into her eyes during her silent appraisal. Glancing over his shoulder, the source of his amusement became obvious. A blink and all evidence was gone. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she sat in the nearest chair waiting for an explanation, wondering why a guard would be given a servant's duties. As he returned her stare, understanding dawned. The temporary demotion must be punishment by humiliation for some minor infraction. It couldn't be anything major. He's still breathing. Obviously, he did not learn anything, either.
"If you are not able to produce any useful information," she began, testing his pride, "perhaps you could fetch my wine." His eyes flashed blue, but with great effort he managed to contain an outward display of anger. She smiled slowly at his reaction, indicating that she found him entertaining rather than offensive. The edge between the two was fine; for him, a familiar line. Stiffly he walked to the waiting decanter and poured the chilled wine into a delicately spun glass. He returned and set it on the table at her side. Then, remembering himself, he offered a deep bow.
"Rise." The short word was somewhere between boredom and annoyance. The mix of green and blue in her eyes was of no help in determining what sentiment was winning.
He hesitated as his eyes, intelligent eyes, raked over his new lord. The motion was quick, but took in every detail about her; the way she'd slouched in the chair, leaning on the armrest with her chin in one hand, how her low expectations filled her expression, as if nothing he can say or do will satisfy her demands, the dust that clung to the filmy layers of her emerald dress, even the delicate toe of the shoe that peeked from beneath the voluminous skirts. The whispers in the ranks, both of this lord and his previous one, labeled her as...different. Tales of her antics have entertained or infuriated the court and had filtered down to those who served. She would flaunt convention, just enough to make things interesting, not enough to lose her position. There was even rumor of a brief foray into the Arcanum. Serving this woman may be the adventure that would alleviate his perpetual boredom. Answers, however, would be the wise course at this moment, given the blue that was slowly taking precedence in her gaze.
"I am called Tain," he began, idly wondering how many different shades he could bring to her eyes. "I commenced my service to your family shortly after you left for your lands. The reason I now serve..." His rehearsed story taxed her already short patience.
"I am not interested in the past." Her interruption was curt. She narrowed her eyes, sensing a set up. "Why were you sent to me? Never mind," she said, waving off the words that he would have begun had she allowed it, she moved to the door. "I will take my questions elsewhere. Continue your duties here." At her departure, blue eyes glowered at the untouched wine.
A careful search for her parents, one of whom had to have sent the bold stranger to her quarters, led Anteela to the forest from which the High Lord monitored his holdings. She wandered through the foliage, drinking in the harsh beauty. Large fronds waved in a gentle breeze, casting shadow on her path. Cautiously, she peeked into various groupings of lords with their ladies, ignoring the conversation and ill-concealed looks of disgust at her dishevelment.
She found the Barrani couple that produced her in a grouping close to the first tree. Thankfully, the throne beneath was empty. She still had not removed the travel dust from her body and clothing, and was not fit to present herself to the caste lord. However, once he laid eyes on her, she would be called forth. She hurried over the one only people who could, if they chose, answer her questions. Her arrival was immediately noticed.
"Lord Anteela. I see you found your gift and trust it is to your liking." The elegant man, also known as Anteela's father, watched her closely, almost begging a confrontation. How she'd like to give him one, if only she had the time. The goal was to get information and leave before the High Lord graced them with his presence.
"Your gift is most gracious. I am honored," and I don't trust it, she finished silently. Not given to kindness, this man never gave up anything without benefitting from the loss. While the Barrani were not known for their kindness, few took cruelty to the extent that he did. She wondered why his marriage to her mother had lasted so long. But then, as reluctant as he was to part with what he considered his, perhaps staying was the best choice. Rumor held that he had started the political war that had ended her brother's life, at her hand. There was no proof, of course, and it wasn't like they were close. Bards would never have written ode to them. But still, his presence had been…comforting. She still missed him in the bad hours. Those didn't bear thinking about.
"I took him from his previous lord. He was the strongest among the guard. I have decided that he will make a fine addition to your personal guard." Translation: After taking said guard it was discovered that he was too much trouble to deal with, but not worth the effort it would take to kill him. Therefore, he was now Anteela's problem. He must be insolent; hard to kill as well. Or perhaps her father tired of being a parent and saw this as a way to fix that little problem. Damn. Her head was beginning to hurt.
"Thank you for your consideration. Is there a way I may be of service to you?" She loathed owing this man a debt.
"Not a thing, my dear." This meant, at best, that the cost of this "gift" will be amusement at her expense while she figured out how to keep control of him.
"I am humbled by your kindness." She executed a quick but proper bow and retreated as quickly as she could while maintaining her dignity. The throne had become occupied during their conversation and the time for retreat had come.
As Anteela was seeking answers, Tain took a moment to consider the situation. After a quick glance toward the door, and a moment to listen for life in the adjoining rooms and hallways, He judged it to be safe. He snagged the untouched wine and lounged on the massive, circular bed. Looking objectively at her, he saw a typical lord, haughty, beautiful, and entitled. Even dusty and disheveled from travel, she still retained all the arrogance and entitlement that those who passed the test of name shared. She truly was a bitch, but she was powerful and that came with the territory.
At first, he was unimpressed, he though lazily, sipping on his lord's wine. It was a fine wine. It was robust, with a different but appealing blend of fruit. Her favored blend, he was told. He was told much about her. From the description he wasn't sure if he expected some sort of pampered, prissy bitch or a hard, seasoned woman. She was a blend, he decided. She appeared soft but strong, nothing like her sire. As if she preferred to think through a situation and consider her options, rather than lashing at the first offense. It made her… unpredictable. Any punishment she administered would be subtle and suitably harsh for making her take the effort.
That thought reminded him of her eye. The stayed mostly green, or some shade of, during their initial encounter. One time stood out, the unexpected moment when she shared her desire. First startled, and then intrigued by the lovely ring of lavender, a shade of which he had never seen before. Those eyes, that hue, haunted him as none had in so long. He wanted, no needed, to see if her entire iris could be consumed with it. What had happened to arouse this woman? Did he unknowingly invite the attention? If so, he would need to figure out what he had done.
Those who were called lord did not socialize with the ones who served them. They certainly did not consider any type of sexual relationship that didn't involve humiliation. Her obvious interest awakened something that had been long dead in Tain. It made him regard his mistress, not as lord, but as a woman. Dangerous territory for a mere guard.
However, dangerous was his favorite type of game. He began to wonder what he could do to entice and excite her; to make her desire him enough to let her guard down. A new game was forming in his mind. He corrected the bed coverings, taking the glass with him as he left the room.
