Chapter 2
They lay together upon a magnificent, black mahogany bed. Kathleen awoke, her eyes fluttered open. She jolted involuntarily as she took in the room around her. The sun was sweeping in gracefully through the elongated windows. The particles in the air sparkled like fairy dust in the light. Above her hung a sheer crimson canopy suspended by intricately carved bedposts. To her left was a closed, dark wood double door; to her right lay Shaddix with his hair in a disarray falling over his face, still peacefully asleep. She leaned in to brush away the tangled curtain of black that shadowed his features. She smoothed back his hair carefully to not disturb him, and sat up cross legged. She peered over at him curiously and tenderly began to stroke the side of his face. His breathing remained even as she withdrew her hand.
She took her sight off the sleeping prince to draw attention to the other things to the right. There was a dresser by the bedside with many objects arranged on it: a vase containing three long-dead red roses, a pitcher of water, three candles - red, black, and white, a silver necklace, and several leather-bound books. what an odd array of objects. she thought.
She looked beyond the dresser, her luggage was strewn next to it. On the far wall was a curtained doorway, the closet she presumed. She returned the gaze to her hands, and reached over to her side, feeling for her bear. She tentatively picked up the soft, fuzzy thing. She had the nightmare again. The small bear brought with him a fragment of her dream.
Her eyes glazed over as she turned to stare at the floor, no longer being able to focus on the bear. She was captivated by her own thoughts.
(Kathleen's thought train. Nightmare flashes occur as she thinks)
There is always that strange, frail girl in my dreams. She has a bear just like mine, the one daddy gave me. She always looks so vulnerable and scared sitting in her cell holding her bear. That girl reminds me of … someone, but I cannot place who she resembles. Those eyes are so peculiar, one grey, one violet - the unique marker of a crossbreed, but it does not seem like she has any abilities or she would have escaped… she must be human then…I know I'm meant to save her, but I don't know who she is . I try to rescue her time and time again, but she cannot hear me, let alone see me. Why can't I ever save her from that dungeon she's in? It is terrifying to have to look at her eyes as they come to take her again, for the guards to enjoy. "Fresh flesh" they call her, she cant be any older than I am… I've know what they do to her. She always comes back in beaten, shaken. Tear streaks leading back to bloodshot eyes as she hides in the corner. She holds herself and trembles. She is completely alone… her eyes filled with shame, her innocent beauty marred, her bright childlike eyes tainted…
Kathleen's trance was broken with the sound of a whimper and a weak, disoriented feeling. She realized it was her own whimper she heard. She had been crying and holding her own bear when she was absorbed in the daze. Revisiting the nightmare awake was worse than living it in her unconscious. Asleep she would scream and the nightmare would end until the next night. Awake - it would reoccur throughout the day and would follow her to sleep. She focused on her breathing and managed to thwart the urge to have a nervous breakdown. She slowly released her deathgrip on the bear and relaxed her muscles. She looked over at Shaddix hoping that he had not been witness to one of her private episodes. He remained unconscious.
She set her bear down on her pillow and threw her long legs over the side of the bed. She raked her fingers through her hair, and pulled the mass into a high ponytail. Ready to get off the bed she noticed that the room was covered in a plush, dark burgundy carpet. Upon their arrival they were drained from the teleporting and it was nighttime. They had luckily bounded into the right room, and their only action after that was undressing and sleeping. It was out of character for her not to have known the layout and detail of her surroundings. She stepped onto the carpet feeling the thick padding beneath her toes. She made her way to the door and found that it was locked. Confused and restless she trudged her way over to the curtained doorway which she thought was a closet. She pulled aside the thick fabric and slipped inside. She extended her arms to reach for a light switch, and found one to her right. She flicked it on. Her assumptions had been correct. It was an unusually laid out walk-in closet. She stepped in deeper through a narrow hallway to find that the closet ended in a room that was twice as big as her bedroom. The room was systematically organized and contained countless expensive outfits that dated back to the medieval times of the castle, when the castle had been in its prime. She took in a 360 view of the space in awe. There were accessories and other things she didn't quite find the use for, along with men's and women's clothing. She studied the dresses available; they looked clean, and surprisingly in her size. She got the urge to try on the one that caught her eye. She did not see the harm in trying it on, and as long as she kept quiet, Shaddix would not wake.
She held the emerald green dress out infront of her appreciating its soft coolness, "Dress up time!" she giggled.
She began to strip herself of her clothing, and slid the new dress onto her creamy body. The sleeves clung to her body like an airy second skin. The bodice of the dress adjusted and hugged her narrow waist and pushed up her breasts provocatively. The skirt of the dress skimmed the outline of her hips and flared out loosely about her feet, the fabric caressing her feet. She liked that it was comfortable. She admired herself in the mirror.
Meanwhile, Shaddix was just rousing from his sleep. The bed sheets rustled with his movements. He extended his right hand to the place that Kathleen had been sleeping; he felt nothing but cold sheets. He sat up groggily, yawned, and stretched. He fixed a disoriented gaze over to where Kathleen should have been, and saw emptiness. He rubbed his eyes, and looked again, still no kitten. It took him a moment to process that she was not with him, that he lay alone in bed. He looked toward the direction of the door, and got aggravated.
"Oi! The wench ran off on me!" he grumbled to himself, " I'm not good at hide and seek this early in the morning."
He jumped off the bed and walked to the door - it was locked, which meant that she had not disappeared too far. He realized that she had gone onto the closet, and felt relieved. He got to the curtain and peered inside. Without any noise, he crept from the corridor into the main room of the closet. He caught Kathleen playing dress-up. He leaned against the wall casually and enjoyed her little show. She was completely unaware of his presence, so she was twirling around the room in a (failing) simulation of a waltz. Clearly, she was not practiced at any sort of dancing skill, but it was endearing to him. He smiled at her awkwardness.
Kathleen stumbled over her own feet, and started falling. He stepped forward and caught her before she caused any damage to herself. He gave her a curious look, then her mind read his thoughts: "Angels can fall? Aren't you supposed to be graceful?"
Kathleen looked up guiltily, embarrassed by the whole ordeal. She looked as sheepish as a kid caught in the cookie jar. Shaddix was the first to break the silence.
"Can I have an encore?" he laughed.
"I.. Um.. NO!" she stuttered.
"Aww, don't be a stranger. You aren't shy, are you?" he said
"I'm not! You just, just surprised me, that's all." she said hotly.
"You looked rather cute doing, whatever it is you were doing," he joked, "Can I have this dance, m'lady?"
"Sure, why not?" she replied, all her annoyance forgotten.
He led her into a proper waltz, and twirled her around the room effortlessly.
"Do you always woo girls into dancing with you?" she asked amazed.
"Not often, only the ones I like. This opportunity was just too hard to resist. And you have to admit, you DID set yourself up for this one." he grinned
"I did not think you would wake so soon. And I did not intend for you to walk in on me like this either." she said.
He looked down at her. She continued, "I meant to get back into bed before you knew I was gone, or that I had played dress up. I thought you would get mad at my curiosity, and exploration."
He laughed, "No, I'm not mad. I was just confused since I did not know where or why you ran off. Now I see that you have been charmed by my closet."
"Yes, I have." She beamed at him.
"You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?" he asked as his stomach grumbled.
"I want.. Hmm.. omelets!" she said as her own stomach growled in response.
He took her hand and led her back to the bedroom. They walked across to the locked doorway. Shaddix slid his hand across the handle and worked a demonic charm, it opened smoothly. He gestured for Kathleen to walk out first.
"After you." he smiled.
"Why, thank you. Such a gentleman." she teased.
"Well, I was taught proper etiquette. My mother was a princess you know." he joked back.
He led her through many grey hallways covered in paintings and décor. The thud of their footsteps reverberated as the only sound in the castle. They finally made it into the "kitchen". It was a spacious room that had been modernized with the century's cookware and fixings. At one end of the room was a small dining table set up for simplicity and convenience. Kathleen sat down as she watched Shaddix get to work. He took his supplies from the fridge: eggs, cheese, and assorted vegetables. Then he grabbed the routine utensils, and began to methodically prepare everything. He reminded Kathleen of one of the chefs on Food Network. His movements were all precise and sure. Kathleen wondered where he had learned to cook.
The large skillet received the mixture of assorted vegetables to be sautéed for the omelets while Shaddix cracked and whisked the eggs. When the vegetables had browned nicely, he added the eggs and lowered the heat. He turned his back on the stove and leaned against a counter, then turned his attention back to Kathleen.
"The food will be ready soon. I hope you like it." he said brightly.
"Mmm, it smells delicious; but I have to warn you, I will be a very unsatisfied customer if you don't give me ketchup. I might just have to stab you with a spoon." she said.
"No need to get feisty, I'll give you ketchup." he laughed.
"Ok, thanks. I'm addicted to the stuff. I think I pour it on almost everything." she joked.
"Alright, whatever you say. Just please don't have a drug trip, and we'll be good." he chuckled as he flipped the omelet in the air.
Kathleen's eyes grew huge, and in her excitement she yelled, "Whoa! Oh my god! You did the chef-flippy-thingy!"
He laughed at her remark and said, "Yes, it is easier to flip it this way. It's less messy if you know how to do it right." He then topped the food with cheese and left it to continue to cook.
"One question" she said.
"Shoot." he said.
"Who taught you to cook?" she asked.
"My grandfather," he said, " He was quite the food genius, it was our favorite thing to do together."
"Oh, Surprising. I didn't know that kings knew how to fend for themselves. That is because they are always being served." she commented.
"My grandfather is an eccentric old geezer - one of a kind. We had to be sneaky with our love of cooking. We would disguise ourselves as servants to play with the food. If any of our family ever saw us doing such a 'degrading' task, they would have had a fit." he replied as he reached into the fridge for ketchup. He set it on the table, then proceeded to serve breakfast.
He sat down and handed Kathleen her plate.
"Thank you. I'm so hungry I could eat a cow. Well, I lie. That's mean. I wouldn't eat meat; I was speaking metaphorically." she smiled.
He quirked an eyebrow, "You don't devour cows?"
She met his gaze. "No, of course not. I'm a vegetarian."
"Oh." he replied dumbly.
She doused her eggs in ketchup and took a bite.
"Yummy! This is so good!" she mumbled as she covered her full mouth with her hand.
"Thank you, I'll pay my respects to the chef… or maybe not. He would hang me for what I'm doing right now." he frowned.
"Yeah, that's true. Anyone with common sense and a sense of self preservation would do the same. You are crazy, you know that?" she remarked.
"Yeah, I've been told." he stuck his tongue out at her.
"Ok, this is random. But let me get this straight - you can fight, you act like a gentleman, AND you can cook?" she asked in disbelief.
"Yes. I also sing, and play a couple of instruments." he added nonchalantly.
"I think I may just be in love with you." she mused.
"Who isn't?" he joked.
They finished their meal and continued their chat.
They decided that the day was young, and they would take a walk; perhaps refine their skills with a friendly match. They got dressed and accessorized with their weapon's belts. They look like they were casually uniformed for the same team. They both wore black with hints of red from head to toe.
They rushed down the many flights of stairs and out the door joyously. They were both filled with energy and happiness of having time to themselves without any hassles or worries. The solitude was comforting, and disconcerting at the same time.