Chapter Two


"Good evening," Marisa's sweet greeting cut through the conversation.

She addressed it not to Asriel, but to Lord Roux, the man with whom he was speaking.

Kissing Lord Roux warmly on each cheek, as was the fashion, she threw Asriel a glance over her shoulder, as her golden hair tossed then settled perfectly about her shoulders.

"Marisa," the man smiled, his eyes alight and his beard twitching with pleasure at the affectionate greeting she had so graciously bestowed.

At their feet her golden monkey and Stelmaria were already carefully circling each other; a prickle of tension between them.

But Marisa kept her hand on Lord Roux's arm and tried to keep the excitement from her face as she enquired,

"My dear Cornelius, it's been too long; who is your new friend?"

Asriel's eyes, having made a sweep of her body, were fixed on Marisa's face. They remained there as he thrust out a large rough hand,

"Asriel Belacqua," he offered. She could tell he wasn't the kind of man who was accustomed to trying to be friendly. She could also tell he was trying, for her.

She took his strong hand in both of hers and squeezed, meeting his deep intent eyes.

"And you're…"

"Marisa," she supplied. Somewhere in her periphery she could hear Lord Roux complimenting her, listing her remarkable qualities for Asriel's benefit, gushing how thrilled he was that the two of them had met. As his woodpecker daemon watched their two daemons tentatively circling, there was just the smallest glint of jealousy in her sharp eyes.

Marisa paid no attention to this. She was captivated by Asriel's impossibly handsome face, the smooth planes of his nose and cheekbones, the curve and fullness of his lips, the freckles and scars that chiselled unique character into his features.

She could tell by his expression he was partly listening to Lord Roux wax on about her brilliance, but his eyes held hers.

"Just Marisa?" he asked; curiosity laced with mischief. Her stomach fluttered. She felt her golden monkey's silky tail brush against her legs.

"For now," she purred, raising a perfect eyebrow. Stelmaria extended a paw towards the golden monkey. He considered it thoroughly before taking a few steps closer. He walked cautiously and a little dazedly, as if in the pull of a very strong magnet. Stelmaria rumbled soft and low in her throat; sounds of encouragement.

"It's a great pleasure to meet you Asriel," she avowed, smiling truly; whole heartedly.

"I agree," he returned a warm smile. "The greatest of pleasures. Certainly you are the most exciting person I've met all night."

Marisa tucked a wave of golden hair behind her ear and smiled teasingly,

"Oh, I'd hope to be more interesting than that," Asriel raised his eyebrows,

"This place is full of bores and gossips, if you'll pardon me, Cornelius," she chuckled. Lord Roux, however, had already sensed his presence unnecessary and moved on to a different conversation.

Suddenly they both felt the pull to look down at their daemons.

Stelmaria was bent low, her head bowed, her watching eyes steely passionate. The golden monkey, crouching trembling at her side, reached out a shiny black hand and began to softly stroke Stelmaria's outstretched paw. It was unusual to see him so gentle and reverent.

Marisa felt a trickle of warmth fill her, from the pit of her stomach outwards.

And still the fluttering continued. Her introduction had gone perfectly, but now she felt shy and girlish. She tucked another strand of golden hair behind her ear—an unconscious nervous habit—and saw him delight in the gesture.

He reached out the large warm hand she had held and brushed his fingertips along the strand.

Feeling treasured wasn't a new experience to her, but mutual treasuring was.

Her heart was beating very fast and her breath was making her light-headed. With every inhale she could feel the intense presence of Asriel, so close to her.

She needed to regain some control over her body. She needed to engage him in conversation; keep things in a realm she could manipulate.

She gathered her breath before speaking so that her voice wouldn't slip and falter. Pulling ever so slightly away and resting an elegant, jewelled hand on the hard muscle of his lower arm, she began,

"I hear you've just returned from the Royal Arctic Institute."