The Gothic Vampire: I do try to have humor. So rare someone gets it.
Chichta: This chapter is for you, my violent friend.
Lady11Occult:Yes you're supposed to know nick. He was in the Beginning. Wayra's brother. And beta is were you get another author to read your work and say, hey stupid so and so is out of character, or your spelling sux... And mostly you just ask. If you really need one, I'm open.
Apricot Jones: sry bout the set up, but i had five minutes to update and no time to preview. TT
Voltaire sat in Wilhelmina's room, bewildered. The others were in the same shape she was in. She had begun to question Nick about what he had been doing for the past half a month, and all he had said was that he didn't remember anything after falling through the portal after her. He said it was like looking through a really dense smoke.
"What should we do?" Wilhelmina asked yawning. They really should be in bed. They had a long day ahead of themselves. All the ladies and their lords would be coming to swear futility to Wilhelmina tomorrow. It was going to be a golden opportunity to build bridges and find the next queen.
"I say he's a threat. I'm sorry, Voltaire. But he may be your friend now; who knows what happened to him during that time. Someone could've planted anything in his mind," Daemonar said to her. Voltaire glared at him mad. What he said made sense, but that sure as hell didn't mean it was right.
I hate to say it but I agree with him. He smells funny. Almost like one with the mean sickness.> Blackfury sent her an image of a member of his pack with what she knew was rabies. She didn't care. This was Nick, the one person who understood what it was like to be dropped into this place. Sure she had adjusted well, but hell, who wouldn't given the choice?
"I'll leave. It's clear that I'm a liability with my memories gone. Even with them gone, I understand by what a string you hang by," Nick said nodding towards Wilhelmina, who blushed prettily.
"N…No," Wilhelmina said quietly causing everyone to turn to her. She looked away. "I mean, he may be a weakness, but we should do something to help him get his memories. He won't survive long here with out some kind of guiding hand. I refuse to send him to his death. Would either of you wish to have his blood on your hands? You know what I say is true," Wilhelmina became more confident as she spoke. Daemonar hung his head, and Blackfury whimpered. Voltaire just nodded. It looked like Wilhelmina may not want to be a queen, but the blood ran through her veins.
"We'll work out a solution tomorrow. I feel like I could sleep for a week," Voltaire said stretching and walking outside. Wilhelmina nodded her a goodnight, and Nick bowed before leaving. Voltaire was halfway to her rooms when she felt someone following her. She turned around to find Daemonar leaning against a column. He had one of his daggers out and was cleaning his nails.
"What?" she asked raising an eyebrow. Great. More of this crazed Warlord shit. He looked over at her.
"I feel it, Voltaire. Feel what you feel for him oozing through the ring. Tell me, how long? How long have you loved him?" Daemonar's eyes were cold. Voltaire wanted to shiver, they remaindered her too much of his uncle.
"What? I've had a crush on him for years. It does mean anything. Are you afraid he's going to take your position with me?" she asked huffing. His insecurity about his status with her was driving her insane. He walked close to her, so close that her face was in his shirt, until she raised it.
"Don't joke with me, hun. You'll find yourself hurt," his voice was quiet, but had a sharp edge to it.
"Is that a threat, Daemonar?" she was mad now. Before it had been an inconvenience, now it was something else. She put her hands on either side of his chest and pushed. "Don't you ever threaten me. I like you, hell, I may even love you, but don't you ever say something you can't back up," her eyes narrowed as he moved a scant few inches.
"Oh, I can back it up. I know how you feel, but Damnit, you're mine, little witch, and I'll die before someone else touches you," he took one of her hands and brought it to his lips. She soften towards him slightly.
"Don't think I've let you off the hook," she said turning back down the hall. He just grinned back at her.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said to her back, and for some reason she shivered.
Ú
Voltaire woke the next morning feeling better. It was amazing what a good night's sleep could do for you. She was actually looking forward to meeting some of these people. She picked out a wine red tunic and black pants with a matching strip up the side out for the day. They would all be on their best behavior until Wilhelmina picked her inner circle; if, that is she stay long enough to pick one. Voltaire rolled her eyes pulling on her over shined boots. This was all like one giant game of chess. One with too many players, but the principle was the same.
She walked out in the hall, and started down it looking for breakfast. Unfortunately, this court had no stewards at the end of a hall to ask for directions. After about twenty minutes she was quiet lost. She was a bit angry as well. She glared at one of the young ladies hurrying down the hall so hard she stopped, and attempted to blend into the wall.
"Stop it," Voltaire snapped at her. She had long black hair pulled away from her face, and shocking blue eyes. Her yellow dress almost hung off her. She bowed her head and moved reluctantly from the wall.
"I'm sorry, mistress," her voice was soft. Voltaire growled as she realized this was probably from tempering. The young woman eeked and did her best not to move, though she clearly wanted to.
"I'm not your mistress. I'm Voltaire, and I'm lost," Voltaire lifted her chin up intent on doing something to change this. The young woman's eyes refused to meet hers.
"I can take you to breakfast. I'm expected there," her voice grew softer at the last so Voltaire had to strain to hear it. She wondered what this girl feared so much about breakfast. She let her chin go, and motioned for her to take to lead. Voltaire frowned at her state of dress as she followed after her. The yellow dress was in good repair, but at least two sizes too big. She had nice curves, but they were all hidden, and her collar bone stuck out slightly. Someone was starving her. But if that was the case, why was she so afraid of breakfast?
Voltaire found out as the door to the great hall was opened. Rylina was waiting there in ambush. She grabbed the girl by her hair, and threw her onto the floor before the throne. There was a resounding smack as the girl's body hit the floor. She laid there groaning as Rylina stood above her. Voltaire looked around in horror at the others, who acted as though nothing was going on.
"Bitch! Whore! I know why you're late. You were with him again? You were given him your food!" Each sentence was punctured by a swift kick in the abdomen. Voltaire felt her temper flaring. Wilhelmina wasn't there yet, and neither was Daemonar. She knew that neither would stand for it, so she sure as hell wasn't. Rylina pulled the girl up by her shoulders, and reached back intent on hitting her. Voltaire had the oddest feeling as she reached over and grabbed the other woman's arm. It was like she was no longer part of her body. She was watching the events from afar. Rylina whirled around to face her in shock. Rage had contoured her mildly pretty face into a disgusting mask.
"How dare you, wench! I am punishing my servant for her misdeeds! This is not a matter that concerns anyone else," Rylina was in such a rage that she was breathing through her nose like a horse. The others in the room turned at her words to look at Voltaire.
"Misdeeds? You yell at her for giving another food, yet she looks like she herself hasn't had any in days! I bet, if she was giving him of he was worse off than she was!" Voltaire had yet to loosen her grip on the other. The young was doing her best to lifted herself off the floor.
"Are you questioning the treatment of my servants?" Rylina snarled. Why was no one doing anything about this rogue witch? She maybe powerful, but hell, that's never stopped males before. She began to struggle in Voltaire's grip.
"I'm doing much more than questioning how you treat them," Voltaire began ready to let her have a piece of her mind. Luckily for Rylina, Wilhelmina choose that moment to walk in. Rylina immediately saw a way out of this situation.
"My Queen, will you call off your hound?" Rylina asked so angry she failed to hide the contempt in her voice. Wilhelmina blinked a few times taking the scene in.
"Voltaire unhand her at once," as soon as the words were spoken Voltaire released the other, Rylina stumbling a few steps as she was. Voltaire went to the young girl who had managed to get herself into sitting position. She looked dazed and near tears.
"Are you alright?" Voltaire asked, not caring what it was that Rylina was telling Wilhelmina. She knew Minna wouldn't be hoodwinked by her. The girl let the tears go as she was asked.
"Please, please, I'm alright," she said sobbing. She latched onto Voltaire with desperation.
"What's your name?" Voltaire began placing her hands on either side of the girl's head. She needed to know if there were any internal injuries.
"Huathe," came the stuttered response. Voltaire hnned, feeling the 'boys' heading her way. She rolled her eyes as she finished checking, there was nothing worse than a few bruised ribs. She helped the girl rise, just as Daemonar entered. She gave him one look, and he was there, gently taking the girl into his arms.
"Voltaire," she turned as she heard Wilhelmina call her name. She knew she as more likely in some kind of trouble. "I know that you are at times ignorant of the way this court works, however that does not excuse you. Rylina was in her rights as far as punishing her servant goes. It matters not whether we agree with her methods," Voltaire opened her mouth clearly having plenty to say on that issue. "Luckily, Rylina has agreed to forgive the offense, and even offers you the girl if you are so concerned about her." Voltaire glared over at Rylina, who was smiling smugly. How could these people just let this happen? Just turn the other way? True she held no illusions about people, but she wanted to hope that someone out there would have to do something. Frustrated, she sighed.
"Thanks. I hope you'll ignore the outburst. I tend to get that way when people beat the shit out of others for no apparent reason," Voltaire said leaving all thought of food gone.