Author's Notes: Man, I sure miss the old Amelia. I think I'll bring her back for a bit.
Summary: After living in seclusion for nearly three years, the only thing that Zelgadis wants is to continue his life in such solitude. But the nightmares that have been plaguing him for months became too painful to ignore, and he finds himself traveling the familiar path to Seyruun once again...
Chapter Three
'betrayal'
You stand before me, now we stare eye to eye
Before another second clicks away, one of us will die.
3 Doors Down
- -
When she awoke, it was to a most peculiar combination of scents that laced the air – lavender and sandalwood, she realized, dreamily inhaling the aroma. Her eyes lazily slid open to seek out the source of the intriguing scents, but upon scanning her room, she found none.
That's odd. I only use vanilla perfume. A tiny, persistent itch in the back of Amelia's mind told her that there was something different about the room, but she just couldn't put her finger on it.
Dismissing the subject with calm indifference, she heaved herself out from under her cozy satin cocoon and sighed in wonderful contentment when she stretched her arms upward, bouncing happily on the balls of her feet. Despite the horror of the night before, she had slept amazingly well – a surprising fact, considering that she hadn't had a good night's worth of sleep in several weeks. She wasn't sure why the previous night had been different from the others; she only knew that she had felt cared for and protected, as if something had been watching over her.
How silly, she teased to herself, and shrugged it off before sauntering over to her bathroom for a quick shower.
Once she emerged in a fluffy blue robe feeling more refreshed than she had in ages, she practically skipped into her walk-in closet to get dressed. Usually the maids would come in and lie something out for her to wear while she was in the shower, but it seemed that she had awoken before they had the chance to do so. It didn't matter – Amelia was happy to choose her own outfit. The dress she chose was of a stark white color with bulbous off-the-shoulder sleeves that ended at the elbow and a skirt that gracefully swept the floor. A silver sash around the waist finished off the look. It was a simple dress with no design embroidered into its downy chiffon material, but it looked just as lovely on her as any extravagant ball gown would.
She gathered her dark hair into a high ponytail and secured it with a white ribbon before settling down in front of her vanity mirror to prepare her make-up. While she applied the various blushes and powders, she gladly noted that some color had returned to her cheeks, and a light smile was constantly playing across her glossed lips.
It's amazing how a good night's sleep can rejuvenate you! I'll certainly need the energy later on in the week.
She cheerfully bounced on her velvet perch at the thought. Lina Inverse's twenty-first birthday was fast approaching, and Amelia had asked her father for permission to throw a party. Philionel agreed, of course, because it would have been unjust to deny the world's savior of a decent birthday celebration. Lina and Gourry weren't going to arrive for another several days, which was just as well since Amelia still had many preparations to tend to.
She gingerly picked up a white gold chain and clasped it around her neck. The sapphire gem that adorned it had once been sewn into her old mage's outfit as a brooch, but she had removed it after her travels to wear it as a necklace.
Her eyes glimmered with sadness when she remembered who she had given one of the matching bracelets to.
"Here," she said, holding the dainty piece of jewelry in her outstretched palm. "A parting gift, since you can't come back to Seyruun with me."
He was shocked by what she was offering him, and quickly stammered a refusal. "I couldn't possibly take that, Amelia."
The princess didn't waver, and only grinned cheekily as she reached her hand out even farther. "I'm only loaning it to you, Zelgadis-san. I want it back, okay?"
He stared at the presented piece of jewelry, hesitation clearly showing in his eyes. And then, very slowly, he lifted his hand to retrieve the gift, his rough fingertips lightly grazing across the smooth skin of her palm. He had expected her to flinch at the contact, she could tell, but she didn't respond at all – she only kept smiling as her arm dropped back to her side, pleased with what she had accomplished.
Only now it seemed more like a failure.
Refusing to let her spirits drop so easily, she shook her head and donned a pair of dangling sapphire earrings and a simple tiara to match, and then bounced away from her vanity, drifting towards her door to greet the day. It was when she reached for the knob that she suddenly froze, slowly turning to face the interior of her chambers once again.
What had been different about the room before had finally become apparent, and her brow creased in puzzlement.
When Amelia had come in from the balcony the night before, she had left the doors open like she did every night. It was a habit that she had grown accustomed to performing for a couple of years now, to help put her mind at ease from feeling claustrophobic. No matter how big the room was, she always felt more comfortable with some outlet that led the way to an escape.
But now, the doors were closed.
- -
Zelgadis frustratingly tapped his fingers against the wooden table, chin resting in his other palm. He had chosen to eat breakfast in a small restaurant on the outskirts of the city, desperate to place some distance between him and the palace. He was incredibly angry with himself for getting so carried away the night before. He trespassed into a princess's bedroom, and even sat on her bed to watch her sleep. What in the hells had he been thinking?
With a weary sigh, he fell back in his chair and smoothed his hands over his face. He had just wanted to see her, plain and simple. It had been three years since they parted ways, and those damn nightmares had him driven with the intense desire to merely look at her, to make sure she was alright. He didn't want to admit it, but those dreams had affected him more than he would've liked.
Then I need to get a grip, fast.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you ready to order?"
Zelgadis looked up at the sound of the waitress's nasal voice and let his hands fall to his lap. "Yes," he affirmed, but then realized that he had completely lost his appetite. Or maybe he hadn't had one to begin with. "Er, I'll just have a cup of coffee, thank you."
The waitress nodded and wandered away, leaving Zelgadis alone to mull over his despairing thoughts once more.
He wanted to kick himself for actually falling asleep during the night. It was a stupid risk that he had taken; what would have happened if she had woken to find him there, curled up next to her on her own bed? Would she have even recognized him? No, not at first, Zelgadis reasoned. Thank goodness his body was used to rising with the sun due to Luo's all-day-every-day training schedule.
He resumed the rhythmic action of drumming his fingers against the table top. He needed to approach her before the day ended, and he had no clue how to go about doing so.
"Hi, Amelia, it's been a while. Well actually, it hasn't been that long for me because I flew into your bedroom last night while you were sleeping. I even zonked out right next to you. Hope you don't mind."
He snorted in disgust. Yeah, that was a great way to start off their reunion.
The waitress returned with his coffee, and Zelgadis gratefully lifted the porcelain cup to his lips. Coffee was always there for him. Coffee always made things better. As long as he had his coffee, everything would be okay.
Before he was even able to take a sip, however, he found his attention suddenly fastened to the tall figure sashaying towards him, garbed in only a slinky black dress that outlined a shapely set of curves and exposed a large expanse of golden skin. Her long, waist-length black hair flowed behind her elegantly, and her hips held a seductive sway as she gracefully kept her balance on a pair of high-heeled stilettos.
Before he could grunt in surprise or even blink, the woman drew herself onto his lap and lowered her head, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss that left his eyes as wide as saucers. The shock soon wore off, though; it was far from being his first kiss, and the sheer obscenity of it generated more anger than lust. He falteringly plunked his coffee cup onto the table before shoving her away.
"Wh-What do you think you're doing?" he sputtered irritably, leaning away from her and turning his head to one side in evasion.
The woman only threw her head back and released a string of obnoxious laughter, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She stood, lifting her own cup off of the table. "Enjoy your coffee," she spoke in a low, sultry voice, and strolled away from him, the switch in her hips drawing his gaze in once more.
Everyone else in the restaurant watched her retreat as well, and then turned their astounded gazes upon the ex-chimera quietly fuming in the corner. A few whistles and hoots erupted, mixed with grunts of disapproval and menacing sneers. Zelgadis felt his face become hot, and he quickly downed his coffee before dropping a few coins on the table and making a hasty exit.
I think it's time that I go face Amelia.
- -
When Amelia entered the dining room, Crown Prince Philionel was already seated at the head of the grand oak table with a loaded breakfast plate sitting in front of him. Fork and knife in hand, he looked up upon his daughter's entrance.
"Ah, Amelia! Are you feeling better this morning?" He quickly motioned to one of the servers to prepare another plate at his right hand, where his daughter was designated to sit. "I'm sorry I did not wait for you before starting breakfast, but I wasn't sure if you'd be coming down."
Amelia's smile was rather wan as she took her seat, but her father – engrossed with his meal once more – failed to notice. "It's okay, Daddy," she genuinely assured him. "And yes, I'm feeling much better."
"I'm glad! I wouldn't want you to be sick for Lina-san's upcoming celebration."
"No, me neither," Amelia agreed enthusiastically. A plate was placed in front of her then, and she tentatively picked up her fork. Her appetite had diminished a great deal since that morning's confusion, and she ended up only pushing her eggs and sausages around absentmindedly.
"Is something wrong, my daughter?" Phil asked after a few minutes, his intense gaze holding a strong level of concern. "You're not eating."
Amelia bit her lip and gently dropped her fork, the silverware making a quiet clink against the china plate. "Daddy," she began softly, hands clasped in her lap, "did anyone come into my room last night or this morning?"
Phil leaned back in his chair, roughly scratching his chin. "I don't believe so," he stated. "I asked everyone to keep out, as a matter of fact, because I didn't want you to be bothered."
"Really?"
"Yes. I even asked Trevor-san to post a couple of his guards out in the hallway to ensure that you weren't disturbed."
"…Daddy, how many guards were posted outside last night?" Amelia asked, trying her hardest to disguise her question for mild curiosity.
"Hrmph! It didn't matter how many were outside, since some of the lazy sods fell asleep on duty," Philionel grumbled and peered closely at his daughter. "Why do you ask, dear?"
Amelia immediately flashed a brilliant smile, picking up her fork. "Just curious. I want to make sure that the castle is well protected from any evil villains that lurk about!" she exclaimed, not unconvincingly. She would always be a champion for Justice, after all.
"Exactly right, my daughter!" Phil eagerly pumped a fist into the air, and then father and daughter both returned to the task of eating their breakfast. Amelia shoveled food into her mouth to please her father, knowing that her questions had probably ignited more than a few suspicions within him.
A thought kept clawing at the princess's mind, though, distracting her from the enticing meal. If guards were positioned outside in the hallway throughout the night to prevent anyone from entering her room, then the only other way to access her chambers was through the balcony. But no common person would have been able to reach it; there was no ladder or trellis for anyone to climb.
However, someone could easily have put a few guards to sleep and then flown in.
As Amelia's brow creased even further in worriment, a pageboy entered the dining room. "A man has requested an audience with Princess Amelia," he announced with just a hint of apprehension.
"What man?" Philionel asked authoritatively. "My daughter is not to meet with any suitors outside of royal functions."
Thankful for her father's protectiveness, Amelia continued eating with growing ease. She could barely even stand talking to those men at said functions.
The pageboy, however, slowly shook his head and cleared his throat. "He is not of nobility, your highness. He is simply a commoner."
"A commoner?"
"And what is his name?" Amelia finally spoke up, trying to keep her voice free of anxiety.
"I am sorry, Princess, but I do not know. He refuses to say."
"That's outrageous!" Philionel roared. "Surely he doesn't expect to meet with my daughter if we do not even know who he is!"
"I understand, your highness," the page assured him, bowing low out of respect and, even more, fear. The Crown Prince was a highly intimidating figure, and the pageboy did not wish to be on the receiving end of a Pacifist Crush. "However, the guards at the gate did let him through."
"That is correct," Amelia agreed, pushing away from the table. "I shall see him."
"Amelia!"
"Don't worry about me, Daddy," Amelia quieted her father's protests, grinning broadly. "I'm a lot more cautious than I used to be."
He picked up on the hidden meaning in her words with a jaw set in self-restraint. He did not look completely sated, but allowed his daughter to leave with a sullen nod.
"He is waiting in the grand foyer," the page smiled, relieved with accomplishing his task. "After you, milady…"
- -
To say that Zelgadis was nervous was a complete understatement. He paced across the beige carpet of the entryway with his hands wringing behind his back, heart pumping furiously. He still had no idea what he would say to the princess when she arrived, and for the millionth time that day, he scolded himself. If he hadn't had left that diner so quickly, he could have had more time to strategize. But he was just so wired from his encounter with the strange woman, and he needed to get up and do something before yet another female popped up in his life to mess with his head. With his luck, he would've stumbled across the Bandit Killer herself.
Hearing footsteps ahead of him, the swordsman abruptly stopped and looked up. He knew the sound of those feather-light footfalls; he had traveled with them stepping beside his own for months on end. If his heart had been beating fast before, it was downright hammering against his chest now.
The pageboy he had spoken to earlier strode into the room, stopping several feet before him. "Princess Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun," he announced, bowing and stepping out of the way to reveal the small form standing behind him in the hallway.
Time stopped for him. He had seen her asleep just the night before, but now she was here, right in front of him, awake and alive. Garbed in her flattering white dress, she had one palm gracefully pressed against the wall beside her as she stared at him with polite curiosity. Her head was slightly tilted, her high ponytail streaming down to just barely brush against her bare shoulder, and she offered him a welcoming smile.
"Good morning." Her voice was as clear and strong as he remembered, and just as warm and inviting. And her eyes…there was no evidence at all of the tears she had previously shed. They bore into him now, deep and unwavering, with just the slightest hint of hesitation – she had not recognized him yet.
Gulp. "Amelia…"
Amelia cocked her head farther to one side, confused as to why this stranger spoke as if he were familiar with her. She was no stickler for formality, but it was rare for a commoner to disregard it completely. Did she know him after all? Her gaze roamed over his form in search of a feature for her to recognize him by. He was undoubtedly handsome with his choppy hairstyle, prominent and chiseled features, tanned and muscular frame; and he had a canteen with an adorable pink bracelet looped around its cap…
Sapphire eyes widening to nearly impossible boundaries, Amelia's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh…"
Oh?
Zelgadis let out a slow, shaky breath and took a step toward her. "Amelia," he repeated, but she only stepped away from him in response, her trembling hand still covering her mouth. He licked his bottom lip nervously before trying again. "Amelia, it's me – Zelgadis."
Her hand slowly dropped from its position to brace against the wall again, this time with more dependence. "I know," she replied breathlessly. "I'm just surprised, is all." Quite the understatement.Amelia swallowed nervously. "What…what are you doing here?" Her voice was high-pitched and uneven, and she cringed at the immature sound of it.
Zelgadis took another step forward, and was satisfied when the princess did not retreat again. "I came to see you."
"To see me?" she repeated dazedly. Zelgadis had come to see her. After three years, he had finally come to Seyruun to see her. To see her. Just last night she had been pouring her heart out into her journal about how lost she felt, and now the source of that feeling of confusion was standing right there in front of her. And he was human.
Amelia longed to do so many things at once; she wanted to hug him, slap him, kiss him, cry to him, kick him, and profess her love to him, but she did none of those things. Instead, she did the one thing that she never thought she would ever do; the thing that classified her as something she despised to be – a damsel in distress.
She fainted.
"Amelia!" Zelgadis had just enough time to leap across the distance that separated them and catch her falling form in his arms. She collapsed in a heap of ruffled chiffon, and he effortlessly lifted her up off of the ground, distantly noting that she was just as light as she had been three years ago.
The guards posted at the entrance immediately rushed forward, and Zelgadis spun around to face them, the princess nestled comfortably in his arms. "I'll take her to her room," he firmly told them, and walked off in the direction he knew to be the way. He could hear the guards' hushed whispers as he ascended the grand staircase, but tuned them out. He had more important things to worry about.
Once safely stowed inside her bedroom, Zelgadis gently laid the princess on her bed, and took a seat next to her still form. He watched the rise and fall of her chest and reached out a hand to sweep away a lock of her hair, just like he had done the night before.
The night before…
Frustrated, Zelgadis stood and paced around the room, combing his fingers through his dark hair. This was not going the way he had wanted it to. Perhaps he should have given the pageboy his name after all, but the fear of Amelia's denial to see him pushed him into keeping it a mystery. However, this was obviously not any better.
He stopped his motions in resignation, choosing instead to occupy his thoughts by taking in his surroundings. Now, in the daylight, he noticed certain details about her room that somewhat surprised him; for instance, he had expected there to be an abundance of pink, but only white and gold decorated the walls, nicely matched with a plush carpet of royal blue. She had an elegant vanity set against one side of the wall, with rows upon rows of make-up and perfumes lined up beside one another. It seemed strange to him because she had never bothered with such petty appliances during their travels, and he vaguely wondered how many of those perfume bottles had been bought for her by the men he saw at the gala.
The rich paintings that adorned the walls were quick to distract him from that thought, and he stared at them in subtle amazement. He had never known Amelia to be an appreciator of art, nor did he expect her to have such fine taste. He approached one that he himself was familiar with, an oil painting crafted by one of his favorite artists, Iabban Nuald. It was a picture of any common sunset, the golden orb dipped halfway into the ocean and surrounded by the perfect blend of reds, pinks, and oranges. It was pretty, of course, but what really gave the painting its intrigue was the woman standing alone on the shore, facing away from the view. She wasn't posed in any intricate way; her face was downcast and her arms hung at her sides, while she wore only an ordinary brown dress. Her feet were bare.
Nuald gave his work of art a short and simple name, Ruin. You couldn't see it in the picture; you could only feel it.
He ambled over to her walk-in closet, curious to see how much her wardrobe had changed. It was packed with dresses and royal gowns and fancy slippers, but Zelgadis noted that it only contained a few pink apparels, which were shoved towards the back, indicating they're infrequent use. He instead found dresses of rich blues and greens and pure whites, and a few deep reds mixed in with bright yellows. Aside from the rack was a single hook, where only one gown was hung – one that was of a cream color with thin straps, and had pearls and tiny diamonds sewn into the satiny fabric. He assumed that this hook was used for upcoming events, which meant that she would be wearing this particular dress soon.
His ears caught the quiet sound of gentle rustling, and he hurried out of Amelia's closet, thankful that she opened her eyes only after he had emerged.
"Zelgadis-san," she mumbled, and he was by her side in an instant.
"Right here, been here the whole time," he hastily assured her, taking his now familiar sitting position on her bed. He cleared his throat and spoke more calmly, "I'm sorry if my sudden arrival overwhelmed you."
Amelia's eyes held a layer of confusion, which she slowly blinked away as she remembered the past events. "Oh…" She bit her lip and lifted herself up so that she was eye-level with her old traveling companion. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry if I caused a fuss."
Zelgadis felt the corner of his mouth turn upwards in a half-smile. Same old Amelia, apologizing for occurrences that weren't even her fault. "Please don't worry yourself over it."
Amelia nodded slowly, her azure orbs taking in his human features. A dazzling smile broke out across her face, and she latched her arms around his neck in a warm hug. "You're really here, Zelgadis-san. I can't believe it!"
Relieved by her acceptance, yet somewhat awkward with the physical contact, Zelgadis hesitantly wound his own brawny arms around her small waist. "Yes, it's been a while, hasn't it?"
She drew back suddenly and, to his surprise, cupped his face between her delicate hands. "And you're human! You found your cure! Finally…" She turned his face from side to side between her palms, surveying every physical feature it held. "I'm so happy for you! Of course, I thought you looked great before, but you already knew that…"
He wrapped his calloused hands around her thin wrists, stopping her actions. "Amelia, let me say something before you get too carried away…"
"And now you're back," Amelia beamed, bypassing his comment. "You're here…"
Zelgadis gulped nervously, dragging her hands away from his face to rest on his lap, and then covered them with his own. "Wait, Amelia. I have to tell you something."
Her cheerful expression gave way to a look of somberness then, and she nodded and gave him a sad smile. "Yes, I have a few things to share with you, myself. Just a few things that have happened since we last saw each other…but not just yet, ne? I'd rather catch up on good times."
He sighed. She certainly wasn't going to make this easier for him, not that he expected her to anyway. "I really need to talk to you about it now."
"You know, your hands are awfully rough," Amelia replied distractedly, her confused gaze directed towards their joined hands. Had they always been that way? Was it possible for stone skin to even callous? It was then that she noticed several thin white lines embedded within his forearms, some criss-crossing with each other, others trailing up beneath the sleeves of his emerald green shirt. "So, how long will you be staying here? Or…are you just stopping by?"
"Well, that really depends."
Scars.Amelia continued to inspect the markings, a knot of dread forming in her stomach. No, no…not you too. "On what?"
He saw the change in her demeanor, how her brows had come together in puzzlement as she stared down at their hands. What was she looking at? "We never have time to rest in this wretched world," he echoed the words of his trainer with an air of annoyance at the statement's accuracy. However, she didn't seem to be paying attention to what he was saying anymore.
Not all of those scars could have been there when they traveled together – his stone skin had deflected most blows. And yet, they were fully healed, as if they had been there for a while. And it would have had to have been a natural process, because healing spells didn't leave behind any scars. The one left on Amelia's abdomen was a rare exception.
Very slowly and without even lifting her head, she leveled her gaze with his. "Zelgadis-san," she whispered, "how long have you been human?"
Zelgadis could feel her small hands tense beneath his, and knew that he was venturing into dangerous territory. "I couldn't come back right away," he said in a quiet voice.
Amelia, however, was not satisfied with that answer. "How long?" she repeated, her voice equally as soft.
He stared back at her, trying to keep the remorse from reaching his eyes. I shouldn't feel guilty, I didn't do anything wrong. "About two and a half years." Not guilty, not guilty.
Two and a half years…
It took several seconds for his reply to sink in, and when it did, she violently wrenched her hands away from his grasp. "Two and a half…" she echoed, just barely above a whisper.
"Amelia, please listen to me…" Not guilty, not guilty.
"Listen to you?" Amelia's eyes suddenly glazed over and Zelgadis braced himself for what was to come. "That's all I've been doing these past three years. Waiting and listening – waiting around while I listened for an announcement that a letter has come for me, from you – one of my best friends. But I only received banquet invitations, gifts from suitors, marriage proposals…"
He felt his chest tighten at the mention of her personal life, but scolded himself for it. Of course she had been in other relationships; it was silly for him to think otherwise. But it didn't stop the unwanted and confusing pang of jealousy that stirred within him.
"Except for one time…and even then, your letter was more of a note, really. Three lines long." Her fists were clenched now, and she only realized it when she felt the stinging of her fingernails digging deeply into the flesh of her palms. "I don't understand. Where were you, Zelgadis? What were you doing?"
Zelgadis cringed at the sudden informal use of his name. "Just let me explain…"
"They should've left me in that box," she blurted, and her voice rose in the midst of her rage.
Now he was confused. "What?"
She sighed and briefly shut her eyes. "Nothing, I didn't mean that." When her eyes opened again, they held a brazen fire of betrayal that burned intensely for him. He didn't think it was possible for the ocean to carry flames. "How could you do this to me?"
'How could you do this to me?'
Zelgadis hastily leapt from the bed. "No…" he stammered, holding his hands up in front of him in a placating motion. Not guilty, not guilty. "I knew it, it's already starting. Amelia, I know you're mad, but just listen to me--"
"I'm tired of listening!" Amelia sprung away from her bed in suit, fists clenched against her hips as she glared at him, eyes bright with unshed tears. And then, very unexpectedly, she slapped his hands down from their gesture to calm her. "And I'm not a child!"
That action alone stung him, and he could only stare at her, dumbfounded. This is getting out of control. What's really going on here? "Amelia, just settle down."
But she wasn't done yet. "At least I had some small measure of comfort in knowing that you were still out there, searching for what meant most to you. And I hated that it was your cure and not your friends, but I grudgingly accepted it. Yes, I was sad, and I was very angry at your lack of communication, but at least I knew it was for your dream."
"It was, all of this was."
"No, I don't believe you. You could've written more, you could've made one trip after you became human. Why didn't you?"
He hung his head in guilt, but more so from the frustration that he fought to contain. "What do you want me to say? You have yet to let me speak."
"Just tell me why!" she demanded hotly. "Did you get hurt? Did you get yourself caught up in some sort of new quest? Did you find something else wrong with you that you just had to fix?"
Zelgadis's head snapped up at her last comment, surprise shown clearly in his eyes. Not guilty. But that was the only affirmation that Amelia needed, and with a muffled sob, she turned away from him.
"Oh gods," she cried out softly. "I don't even want to know what it was this time. When will you realize that there are more important things, Zelgadis-san?"
He had nothing to say to that, and only watched as she slowly retreated to the door, her dress trailing regally behind her.
Say something, anything. Don't just let her leave it like this.
But no words came, and he could only watch as she stopped in her tracks, just before turning the brass doorknob. "I'll ask the maids to prepare the guest suite for you," she whispered, and then turned to look over her shoulder, though her gaze was directed at his feet. "And for the record…I always keep my balcony doors open at night."
And with a flourish, she was gone, leaving only a confused, irritated, and forlorn Zelgadis in her wake.
Guilty.
- -
A mocking chortle arose from the great entity, and Kreoss cringed behind his lord's back. "You put something in his coffee?"
Kreoss gulped, but forced his voice to remain level. "Gromsweed."
His master took a moment to consider it, and then slowly nodded in approval. "A poisonous herb used to make someone fall prey to violent hallucinations and painful memories of the past," he recited. He eyed his servant carefully. "You know his past better than I do."
"Yes. There are certain events I wouldn't mind him…reliving." Kreoss turned away in frustration. "But some whore ruined my plan by switching their cups."
"Is that so? Do you think it was a mere coincidence?"
"He was just as surprised as I was, my lord. But it doesn't matter – it won't happen again."
"I see. Deal with him as you wish – just keep him out of my way."
"As I wish?" Kreoss repeated hesitantly. "So the other thing that I proposed sits well enough with you?"
Several seconds of silence stretched between them before he was granted an answer. "Do as you wish," he said again. But Kreoss suddenly found his neck in a vice-like grip, and he had to resist the urge to gag. "I know you are interested in her, Kreoss, but you'd do best to remember that she is mine. Whatever plan it is that follow through with, you leave her to me. You can cross paths with her, you can toy with her, but nothing more unless it is your wish to be flayed alive by my hand. I will not have another servant betray me."
Eyes wide in fear, Kreoss quickly nodded, and was abruptly released.
"Yes, my lord."
He would not end up like Booley.
Disclaimer: I do not own Slayers.