Page 34 of Chasing the Night
Chapter Thirteen
The Truth
Messiah
It’d been a while since I had been struck like that. It was only words she had hurled, but damned if they didn’t land heavier than experienced fists. I took a deep breath and hunted for words. I wasn’t even sure for what… comfort? Scolding? She was a moment away from spewing family business to anyone with ears, but even the afflicted could have seen the pain that was openly bleeding from her.
She was the opposite of Reverie… and yet they shared the same grandiose fear of abandonment. Her golden eyes so prone to emotional disclosure had been keeping secrets from me.
It was my job to know people. Not to take names and addresses. No, my job, my very life’s obsession and continued existence, revolved around my ability to read the language of the human body.
Fuck Father’s orders.
She needed me, and I needed to study her. It was a done deal. Lust, love, and grief hadn’t managed to seal an attachment. In the end, it was the discovery of her natural born gifts that broke my reserve. I had to protect her. I didn’t have a choice anymore.
I canted my head in warning and snatched her by the hand. She took a sharp breath but didn’t bother wasting it on objections. Rather than the Villa, I turned about and marched her back the way we had come. Past all the market stalls and Lady Blazian’s winery. All the way out the gate.
That was when she lost her mind. The woman started scratching and slapping me like she had gone mad.
“Chalice! Chalice, stop. Be reasonable, woman. People are looking!” I hissed and danced with her until we were both red in the face; her from exertion, and me from embarrassment.
Realizing that she likely wouldn’t calm down until she saw that I meant her no harm, I proceeded to tug and haul her through the market. The crowd grew and thinned every few feet as curiosity was stroked. Of course, as soon as they realized who it was causing the commotion, they quickly put their heads down and tried to look busy.
“Go about your business, folks. All is well,” I called with a forced laugh. It took what felt like an eternity, but I managed to get her past the bridge. Once we passed it, she settled somewhat, but maintained the deadly glare and doubled fists.
I threw the door of my jail open and motioned for her to choose a seat. She looked past me, saw the cages and made no effort to move. With a sigh that took every ounce of patience I possessed, I smacked the door open and led the way in.
“Come. Come,” I groaned.
The door clicked shut, leaving me to stare at the handle or go out and chase her down.
The knob turned but the door didn’t budge, not for a moment, anyhow. She stood in the doorway for some time, unwilling to commit to being in such a building.
“You wanted to know about the family meeting. Change your mind?”
Her gaze narrowed on me until I was certain I had scared her off. She scratched her neck, cast a cautious glance over her shoulder, and stepped inside.
“Who did he sell me to?” she whispered, nearly placing her shoulder to me once it was verbalized.
“Chalice… no one will ever sell you. You are a free woman. A Lady of the highest House in Rochambeau.”
“Nayana’s is the highest house…” she quietly pointed out.
I swallowed a laugh and flashed her a reassuring smile.
“Never mind the Houses and the Buzzards that speak for them. I want to speak to you.” I ran my hand over the top of my desk, instinctively searching for that groove I always picked at. “None of us were born Krypt. Their biological children were all assassinated or executed. If we’re being honest, it was all part of the same big facade. Murder… I care not what fancy descriptive they try to paint it pretty with.”
She folded her legs modestly and settled back a bit. I had disarmed her, but she was still protecting something.
“A drink,” I quickly offered, as if it were my manners speaking.
She shyly nodded and took a slow look around the open floored office while I fetched two goblets and filled them with some Kingdom Isle Cognac. Almost the color of her eyes, it went down smoother than any liquor known to man. To the pirates with the rotgut, Cognac was for captains.
I flashed her a smile and trusted that her youth would inspire her to kill the double shot as I had. They never liked to appear inexperienced when it came to vices. As expected, she tipped her head back and downed the liquor without thinking. A faint cough was sputtered, and she smiled before nervously taking the room in again.
I refilled the drinks, drawing her attention back toward me with the subtle clink of glass on glass.
“You were saying?” I persuaded. “…before I rudely interrupted, that is”. I playfully rolled my eyes and sat back to laze with my drink resting between both hands.