Ares stood there, for a few moments, completely flabbergasted. She had no idea what to make of this Prince. Really. Who does that? Just walk up to some stranger, and say that they need to earn respect?
She felt like screaming out of frustration. However, she refrained from doing so as to avoid being noticed by a guard.
"Hell's Fire." she grumbled to herself as she went back to chopping down the grain like the man had shown her.
The prick.
The next few days Ares was assigned to house duties. She was to clean, and wash, and tend to every whim of anyone of importance in that shack. However, she'd found that she preferedto do the menial labor as opposed to the hard field work. Now she understood part of what Valcan meant when he said "Menial chores."
Late one night, as she was finishing delivering a guest's dinner, a door opened some ways down the hall and out walked the nervy man who approached her the other day. He looked tired and unhappy, even though he wore his neutral mask. It could be read in his movements.
He stepped into the doorway, fixed his collar, pulled his hair out from inside his shirt, and shut the door. Then he looked down the hall and then up it, towards where Ares was walking.
Ares didn't avert her gaze, nor did she smile. She kept a steady, almost challenging stare, as he looked at her face. As she passed him she greeted, "Prince" civilly, and nodded her head once. He, in turn, nodded as well and turned to walk the way she was going.
"Lady." he said as he came up to her side. "Are you down to House chores now?" his tone was polite, but Ares felt like he was mocking her. She kept her head forward and narrowed her eyes once without saying anything.
The man studied her profile for a moment. He smiled slightly, amused by her resolve to ignore him.
"Suffering from insomnia, Prince?" she asked, rather abruptly. Her tone was biting, even though she said the words in a light voice. The man tilted his head, looking at her still. "Excuse me?" he was genuinely puzzled. Then he felt a stab of energy flicker next to him.
"Why are you up at this hour?" Ares clarified, unhappily.
"I was finishing what was required of me." he said softly, but it was a challenging phrasing. Ares frowned on the inside, wondering why she heard sorrow through the tone as well.
None the less, she kept her pace. She was tired and wanted to sleep. Anything to make her forget about not eating for the second day.
"Lady Arelane, correct?" the man inquired after a long moment of silence.
"Yes?" she answered almost as if her patience was running thin. Honestly, why was she so snappish? Was it her lack of food, or the fact that he probably could have introduced his presence better that first day? What irked her so bad about him?
Before he could say anything more, she stopped moving and turned to face him. "Is being a Warlord Prince what makes you men not want to answer, or is it just because you're all jack-assess?"
The look on his face was priceless. He was completely taken aback by her insult and her forwardness. There weren't many in this Court below the Queens that taunted him to this measure.
Then that sly grin settled over his face.
"Why are you so angry, Lady?"
Ares' lips pursed and her face squished up. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"What is your deal?" she asked through a hushed voice, because if it were any higher, she would have yelled it. He rose an eyebrow.
"You come up to me, in the middle of a field, and tell me I need to earn your respect. Whatever the hell that means. Now you're following me. And on top of it, the one friend I make though this whole ordeal, I can't contact. There? Do you see now? That is why I'm pissed off. Because you are a jackass, and I haven't been fed in two days." she took in another breath and held it for a moment while she calmed her nerves.
Shit. Mood swings. That isn't good. She though to herself. That could only mean one thing.
The black-haired man kept his eyebrow raised. Ares didn't think he knew what to make of what she had just spewed at him. The sly grin returned and he looked her right in the eye. "Lady." he said quietly. Ares' ocean eyes snapped up to his. The expression on his face turned from sly and conniving to warm and apologetic as he bent down to one knee and took both of her shaking hands. "There." he said with a small chuckle. "You have earned my respect, Lady Arelane. I am sorry for upsetting you in a time of distress." he kissed her hand before he rose, and looked into her eyes again. With a graceful, fluid movement he rose from his kneeling position, turned, and continued walking down the hall, his perfection marred slightly by fatigue.
Once again, the young girl was left in frustrated awe by this man. And she was hungry.
The man left the witch Arelane standing in the hall. He walked down the corridor, past a few more doors before turning a corner and grabbing the door knob of the first door on the left. He opened it, and flung himself in, barely remembering in time to not slam the door. He ran for the couch on the opposite side of the room and vaulted into it. He needed to lay his head back. This was too much for him.
That girl.
She was something special indeed. He felt it the first day he spoke with her. It was very faint, and that was why he approached in the first place. But once she touched his arm, he felt it. He felt what seemed faint. She must have accidentally dropped her guard. Maybe the fatigue added to that.
Whatever it was, it was immense. Her power had washed through him with her touch. First it was like an ice hand had clamped around his wrist and then surged though his veins, singing to his blood. The Darkness in it...
He was shocked.
However, when she shook his hand, he didn't feel the power. In fact, what he did feel was very faint, almost imperceptible.
He pulled his head from the back of the couch and braced it between his hands on his knees.
It had puzzled him too greatly. He couldn't have just given her his name like she so foolishly did. The other thing that stopped him from acquainting her was when she hesitated before calling him 'Prince'. He didn't need a girl who would be afraid of what he was.
But after she lost her temper, he saw she wasn't afraid of him, she was just terribly shy. He had forgotten how stressful the first weeks or even years of slavery could be on someone. Especially someone her age.
Oh, what a fool he was to provoke her like that.
The man got up from the couch and began to unbutton the collar of his shirt. He slipped his boots off, and threw his white shirt on the floor by the couch. He proceeded to walk to his private bathroom, undid his navy colored trousers and threw them across the room too. The sound of running water ensued and finally, he stepped into the shower to wash off the unpleasant stench of sweat from the day, and the psychic scent of the witch he had just served.
As he carefully combed his raven's wings hair and dried himself, he decided there and then that tomorrow he would make amends with the young witch. There was something wrong, and she needed all the help and guidance she could get.
4
The next morning, The Prince found Ares in the kitchen, scrubbing the floor by the pantry. He walked over to her with his usual aloof grace, smiling casually at the other servants and cooks.
"Good morning, Lady." He said in a smooth voice. Ares' hand stopped for a brief moment, but then resumed to scrubbing the floor.
A little hurt by her ignoring him, he cleared his throat and said softer, "Lady." With no answer still, he moved to her side and squatted in his nicely tailored navy pants near the puddle of soap.
"Lady Ares, please accept my apology for my behavior the other day. I admit it was not the best way to make an impression on someone." He waited for her to look at him.
Finally, with a heavy sigh, she turned her head to look at him.
Ares saw his face, saw his golden eyes, and suddenly, she just couldn't find it in herself to be upset with him any longer. His face just looked so hopeful, so like a boy who just wanted to be friends, that she just couldn't find any words.
What could it hurt? She thought to herself. She did need a friend here. The Darkness only knew how long she would be a slave here and she had no one to talk to. They could help each other, and his strength as a Warlord Prince could prove helpful as well.
With that, she let out a tight breath, and managed a shy smile. She sat back onto her ankles and looked him in the eye. She knew he was sorry for what he had done and he wanted to make amends. So she wiped one soapy hand on her dress and held it out to him.
"Prince, I accept your apology. I am sorry for the way I acted as well." He looked at her hand for a moment, a spark of shock in his eyes, but then he placed his in hers, and grasped it.
What a relief it was to feel that cold energy.
Knowing they were out of sight of the other staff in the room, the Prince leaned forward, still grasping her hand, and whispered into her ear, "And my name, Lady, is Malakaie."
Then he leaned back, gently lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over her knuckles. When he managed to flicker a gaze at her expression he was slightly amused by the small glow in her cheeks. However, the calculating look she gave him made his smile falter. He panicked for a brief moment.
"Prince Malakaie." she said in a low voice, testing it. She looked up, finally, and stared into his gold eyes. He felt as if that oceanic stare was seeing far past the muscle. Down into the Abyss, seeing his naked Self for what he truly was.
Then she blinked and took a deep breath before finally smiling at him, as her stare became less intense. "I hope we can make the best out of this relationship." she said gently.
But Malakaie heard something deeper in her tone.
Yes!
I LIVE! The NYU application was sent in last week andI have been recovering from the stress and fatigue since.
By the way, it was 'The Fatigues' episode of Seinfeld tongiht. "I sent 16 of my own men to the latrines that night!"
Yes, so what happened? Yes.
We meet Malakaie, her Hayllian Warlord Prince counterpart. Snap!
Now all we need is some Creedence to celebrate!
I'm sorry I've been a bad updater. I shall make it up to you with words.
another time.