Fingers pick up a letter resting along table edge. His gaze is careful, ruled by torment, slaughtered when he registers its sender identity. "This is one of the letters she wrote me." Distrust rises at the realization; it hurts, a pain that shakes him to his core, an anger rising betwixt the gaps in rib cage. Chaos festers in his veins. "What is the meaning of this? Why didn't you tell me?" He halts into silence, tainted eyes focused upon the chancellor imposing figure.
the breeze hums in recitative joviality. its notes, imprecise within the atmosphere’s evasion of man’s perception, trail along ardyn’s neck as though a piano of the senses. such bliss never lasts — only tempts with transient serenity. ‘ the weather is changing , it seems . ’a fellowship of defective chills fester across flesh, a premonition. is it better to be guarded by this intuition? or, in possessing an immortal liberty to abuse one’s alternatives, is it more endearing to waver upon the ledge of fate? to allow this pitiable twist of instinct to broil in the unknowing? of what end does this forewarning preserve? only the draft is aware. respectively, ardyn closes all the windows.
pace hastens and slackens, an affordable elapse as the accursed’s ankles distract upon interval of ravus’s absence. time has kept him away; a delay unaccounted for by normative obsession. six minutes. thirty minutes. the floor will cave out beneath his stride before the fleuret makes his appearance. but why? where is he? fractionate jealousy belay’s the man’s neck — like a noose — before given the chance of entering the chancellor’s lodging. the commander knows better. so who would venture the risk, and filch their time together? surely it is another’s oversight, for the commander would not allow someone to occupy an evening intended for the chancellor. ravus has been taught, or so assumed. perhaps singular occasion was not effectual in its ‘ tutoring ’.
appendages cringe beneath tension of knuckles, suspicion unforgiving in the hostility of their cartilage. a strained modification of jaw accompanies grind of incisors, affronted hues encountering murmur of door handle with the velocity of a famished serpent. rancor delivers attention, only to be appeased by his acquainted weakness for ravus’s eyes. ‘ oh , how i hate it when you look at me like that —— ’
“ is there word from my sister ? ”
the grace of conciliation is drowned by mention of her. as though a corporal parasite, her fingers ensnare; wrenching at the spokes of his ribs and ravaging the perplexity of his chest. ‘ i sent her away , assured you of her safe passage , and still you regurgitate the subject ? is there no escaping that woman ? ’ a resistance passes under tongue — conscientious — though mangled by an offsetting requisite for poise. do not let yourself be seen, not by him. he needn’t discover the insatiable malice of the daemons betwixt your teeth. you need only nibble on his servitude; a morsel capable of slaking our greed.
“ your sister —— ? aaah , but of course ! i was informed just this morning that she had arrived in lestallum . such a pleasant city . you and i ought to experience it together , one day . ” heels carry deceit, lucid in their articulation. eyes discard posture of the fleuret for an instance, hues embellishing appendages as they shroud the waist of a goblet. scant attention defeats him, entertaining the guillotine of former trepidation. before sustenance of beverage reaches idleness of lips, ardyn recognizes an unnerving silence from behind. it hollows him; belittles his selection of taking the risk. he should have never let ravus come here.
“ this —— is one of the letters she wrote me . ”
how? how is this possible? reality disintegrates, oxidised by the heat of perfidy in his chest. someone befooled him. A TRAITOR. to hoax his disjointed psychopathy into a trap, via calculated resolve or ‘ coincidental fortune ’ — it did not matter. they will be repaid in kind. glass hovers against faltering charisma, tranquility of breath an inconsistent fog against its complexion. he cannot look to him. he knows what he shall see. the letter — a meager blunder of his spite. for reasons unidentified, whether to ridicule the morality of a compassionate sibling, or to sneer at his own, inverse history of familial trauma, it all returned to the same notion. her benevolence is a poison. it vexes, and embitters — trenching into his depraved stratagems. his vindictive mentality despises the oracle, a loathing formed not of his own intentions, as it is he who must now be branded by ravus’s discernment.
“ what is the meaning of this ? why didn’t you tell me ? ”
pretence adorns him. quaking within ear, rhythmic tinges of his pulse collate evenness within turn. his heart throbs with vulnerability, a rarity to be found only when a confounding variable outwits the chancellor. divergent eyes fasten to him, unyielding in their grasp so as to coerce honesty of response. hesitance defines, illustrating the lies of static lips.
“ you had not allowed me the opportunity —— i thought i would first offer you a drink , as you have worked far beyond budget this evening . of proper etiquette , no ? i wanted you to enjoy reading her letter , as we are not ourselves when par —— ravus !! ” the door instills a tremor throughout the room upon exit. a remorseless quaver of tainted anatomy — unnerving, belligerent, and mutinous — ascends the helix of abhorrence smoldering in amber gaze. he’s gone. placement of a letter he was certain to be hidden elsewhere, not on the frontier of table’s visage, could only mean one thing. someone moved it. was it a threat? a message? the accursed paid no heed. he knew where culpability prospered. there would be only one who committed this offence; only one with the audacity to enter his quarters without permission.
“ ———— DRAUTOS . ”
daemonizing posted this
