Okay, okay, wait. Before you all embark on this most awaited adventure, I have something to say.

"I've got somethin' to say!"

You must listen to Looks That Kill by the Motely Crue, only because it seems to fit... musically, not lyrically. That aside, thank you and enjoy!

4

"What were you doing in here?" Malia, the sister of the Queen Debra inquired after she flicked all of the candle lights on with Witchfire. Valcan was at a loss of an explanation for once in his life. He was always so good at making up some assinine excuse about one thing or another. Where was that ability now?

"No slave should be in the formal drawing room after dark. You should be in your stinking cell." she reprimanded with her hands on her hips.

Aha. Valcan thought, there it is. As a grin began to part his lips. He rose from the dark corner he had been hiding in during the conversation and kept his ice-blue eyes on the woman. Then he inclined his head, pushing some of his thick blonde hair from his face. Tonight, it was actually combed and tied properly.

"Mi'Lady," he said in his most courteous tone, "I was merely waiting for your beloved sister, so I could fulfill my duties and go to my bed, on the fourth floor." he said with a touch of emphasis on the last words.

Malia stood there, dumbly for a few moments, and then finally collected herself. "That still doesn't explain why you are in here." she finished with a glare.

Valcan only turned his head very slowly to the left, so to regard her with his other eye.

The woman's eyebrows pursed asshe stared at him.

Then it hit her.

Valcan could see her expression fall very slowly at the implication he was feeding her. He began to grin.

"Well, then. I guess I'll allow my sister her privacy." she said, looking towards her feet, with a small blush growing on her cheeks.

The woman turned around and headed for the door, but not before stealing a glance at the man. His grin had broadened and it infuriated her that he should out-do her, but she narrowed her eyes and stepped out, slamming the door as she went.

Valcan kept the obnoxious grin for as long as she was in the room. Mother Night, how he hated that woman. She was always in the business of the house and was always on the heels of every slave that entered the building. She could care less about the workers on the grounds outside.

That was why Valcan hated being assigned to 'House Chores' as the Lady so called them. Lady Debra was the Queen of the Territory and had a big ego to fit the position. She thought she was the most beautiful and powerful witch in all of Terrielle, when in reality, she was the most disgusting of all the women Valcan had had to serve. And he had some pretty bad owners. Even Lady Talia was a better woman than this one.

Valcan let the grin fall from his face, only to be replaced by a sneer, and strode over to the side door of the Drawing Room. He probed the other side of it for any presence and opened the door, finding it clear of anyone. On the other side of the Drawing Room Door, which was designed to look like a wall, there was a hidden corridor that Valcan had found while scouting the House one night. It had an exit in one place on every floor and lucky enough for him, the exit was 'hidden' by his room on the fourth floor. He had recognized it as a passage instantly when he walked by it the first day he was in the House, even though it was disguised as a large painting. When he had actually been able to explore it, Valcan found that the corridor was in ill repair and most-likely had not been used since Debra had taken the Throne.

The blonde-haired man stepped into the corridor and looked up and down it both ways, just to be certain there was no one there he would have to explain his presence to again. Then Valcan pivoted on his heel and turned towards the west side of the House, towards the stair well that lead upward.

As the man walked, he began to hum a wordless tune to himself. He had always liked to sing. He knew an assortment of melodies for particular events and feelings. Since he had become a slave, he found that he sang dirges and songs of mourning more often.

Tonight, however, Valcan hummed a soft tune he remembered from when he was a boy in Glacia.

He was glad that Ares had finally been able to contact him and that he could answer. It was a shameful business being a male servant in this House. Valcan had been preoccupied almost every night with 'other' business that he couldn't return the sendings with out being caught.

Ares seemed well. Her tone was the same as it had been back in Raej. But who was this Malakaie she spoke of? Immediately at the thought of this other male, Valcan's temper began to broil. He didn't understand what was making him so possessive of this little witch that he only met for three days, but he didn't mind it that much. He liked feeling possessive for someone else. It gave him an awkward feeling of hope, knowing that there was someone else that he knew. He wasn't so alone and didn't feel pointless.

Not to mention that he was a Warlord Prince. That in itself was self-explanatory.

A slight grin parted his lips as he hummed his wordless tune.

Yes. Motley Crue... as much asI was grappling with myself over what to name this chapter,I had a NIN song or this one. And if you think about it, I was completely phibbing, and leading you on.

So, so sorry. That you thought someone was going to die... tonight... ha.. muha, ha hahahahahaha...

ButI did like writing this installation. I just love how Valcan is an ass and I like how he looks in a suit.

And I know it was all very short and for that, I not only prostrate myself before you, but beg for your forgiveness too, because it has been a while since I last updated, proving I'm, indeed, a schmuck.

ButI received many very encouraging reviews from several new readers that left me just... giggling.

I was very happy to have such nice and competant volunteers join my Legion.

And before I leave you, my wonderful Legionaires, how is it, EXACTLY, that you spell the term 'blonde'?

Isn't it if you're talking abouta female, there's an 'e' at the end, and if not, it's just 'blond'.

HAS FRENCH TAUGHT ME NOTHING THESE PAST 5 YEARS!

Again, I bid Adieu, My Legion.