Текст книги "Prince of Demons"
Автор книги: Nora Ash
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
She’d never given much thought to who she’d marry. If she’d marry. Sure, when she was young and had felt alone and overwhelmed with the responsibilities her mother had foisted on her, she’d harbored dreams of some modern-day prince sweeping in and taking her away from all the difficulties. But as she grew older, it just hadn’t felt realistic. To fall in love? To find someone who understood her, cherished her? No, that had never been in the cards. Not for her.
A firm knock on the door pulled her thoughts to the present. She drew in a deep breath, steeling herself, and turned away from the mirror just as the door swung open.
Kesh stood in the opening, dressed in his leather armor and with an iron crown decorating his brow. In his human disguise, he looked like a beautiful warrior prince straight out of a fairytale, and the sight of him made everything numb tense up inside her.
For a long breath, they stared silently at each other. Georgia’s pulse thudded in her temples, down her body and deep into her core where she still felt the sweet ache of their illicit union. A cruel reminder of those haunting moments where she’d thought…
She forced a breath through her nose and deep into her lungs, raising her chin in defiance. There was no point in poking that wound anymore, and certainly no reason to let him see how much it still hurt.
“Are my suitors here, then? Take me to them. I wish to meet my future husband.”
40
Georgia
Kesh’s only response was to hold out his arm in silent invitation to join him.
It felt like a mockery of chivalry, the way his posture remained arrow straight and his face a blank slate as he waited to lead her to her Courting. Like he’d never touched her, never been inside of her. Never called her love.
The skirt of her dress swished as she crossed the room and, hesitating for only a moment, placed her hand on his offered arm.
For a long breath, he remained still, frozen with her hand resting against his leather arm guards. She dared a glance up and met his eyes. And for a moment… for a single split second, she could have sworn she saw… something in those black pools.
It was gone before she could decipher what it was. If it was even more than a figment of her imagination.
Without a word, Kesh began walking, leaving her to keep up with his long strides.
He led her down long corridors with worn, red carpet still present from the days when the casino’s upper floors functioned as a hotel. Apart from taking out the slot machines on the lower floor, installing his imposing throne, and boarding up the windows, the prince really hadn’t done much to change its 90s-style free lobster buffet aesthetics.
As he pushed open the double doors leading to the stairs, a low murmur of voices drifted up from the throne room.
Her waiting suitors, no doubt.
“How many are there?” she asked, hesitating at the top of the stairs as she realized she’d never asked. Her previous courting had been just a handful of males. This… this sounded like a lot more.
“Just under fifty. Thirteen of whom were on the fence about whether to support us or the Europeans, until the chance at winning your favor arose.” He began descending the stairs, expecting her to follow.
She did, despite the knot of anxiety in her tensing with each step.
“Oh. Well… That’s good. Your brother must be pleased.”
“Yes. He must.”
He was such a fucking dick. Her cheeks pulled up in a mirthless smile. What the hell was she doing, aching at every clipped word he offered? He’d told her to grow a spine multiple times. It was time to do just that, because this? Fretting and worrying about a man who was happy to hand her off like a maiden of old in exchange for military support? This was beyond ridiculous.
“Right. Well, I guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.” She snatched her hand off his arm and brushed past him down the stairs, hiking up her skirts to allow for a fast descent.
Kesh made a displeased noise from behind her. She ignored him and continued to the bottom of the stairs and straight ahead, toward the double doors leading into the throne room.
“Georgia!”
Without looking back, she let her skirts drop and pushed both doors open with more force than needed.
They swung open with dramatic gusto.
There may have been just fewer than fifty demon lords present, but there were far more males in the large throne room. Servants, bodyguards… fucking goblet holders, for all she knew. Maybe three hundred, at her startled estimate.
Every single one of them turned to look at her, the murmur of voices dying to complete silence at her appearance.
There was a clench of terror at being their sole focus, a primal human need for self-preservation stirring somewhere deep down. The need of prey to flee and hide. She pushed it away with a force of will.
Women with spine didn’t cower.
“Hello, boys.” Georgia raised her chin and stepped forward, into the throng of demons.
They parted for her like the Red Sea, creating a clear path all the way to Kesh’s throne elevated on the dais straight ahead.
Well, why the hell not?
She sailed forward, chin up, spine straight, regal as fuck. The only sounds that followed her were the swish of her dress and the clicking of her heels. When she reached the dais, she hiked her skirts to ankle height and took the two low steps up, then turned around and sat down on Kesh's throne like she belonged there.
From her new perch, she had a clear line of vision to the open double doors she’d just marched through. Kesh now stood in them, taking up the entirety of the frame. His face looked like a thundercloud.
Sick satisfaction thrilled up her spine. With just the tiniest hint of a smirk, she leaned back on his throne and cocked one ankle on her knee in imitation of how he’d sat when she was first brought to him, broken and terrified. Spineless, as he’d called her.
Asshole.
Kesh’s nostrils pulled up at the unspoken provocation. Black eyes locked in hers, displeasure rolling off his wide frame in waves. Without a word, he stalked down the cleared path toward her with long, sure strides. Like a warship on smooth water.
He didn’t stop until he was right in front of her.
Georgia tipped her head back to look up at him, but made no attempt to move out of his seat.
The silence in the throne room was deafening.
His eyes narrowed in warning.
She narrowed hers in response.
His lip curled up, bearing the faintest hint of what now looked like a blunt human fang at her, but before she could mimic the gesture, he grabbed her by the upper arms and hoisted her off the throne.
Georgia gave an indignant squeak, then a huff when he took his seat and placed her on his lap.
“I was sitting there.”
“You were. And now, I am.” His strong hand curled around her hip, holding her in place, before he directed his attention to the gathered demons.
“Forty-nine lords have been invited to court the most recent Pure Breeder to surface. Yet my throne room is packed with six times that number of males. If you are merely here to gawk at the girl, this is not the time nor the place. We’re at war. My lords, please dismiss your entourages to the perimeter of the building. If you wish to court the Breeder, you will do so alone.”
Mutterings rose from the crowd, then a stream of demons began filing out through the double doors. When movement finally stilled again, she could see guards stationed around the entire perimeter of the large hall. Fifty men remained in front of the throne. Like Kesh, all had that same air of barely concealed power thrumming under their skin. Bar none, each of them had his gaze fixed on her.
Georgia lifted her chin higher. They may look like barely leashed predators in human disguise, but she wasn’t prey. They were here to win her favor, not tear her apart. Unlike the male whose lap she was perched on.
“Your Highness… The invitation stated there would not be an auction, but a courting of this lovely girl. Perhaps it would be prudent to explain what this will entail?” The one male in the center of the room whose eyes weren’t glued to her bowed his head respectfully at Kesh.
The prince exhaled an annoyed sigh. “What does it entails, Governor Maell? Do our most powerful, most clever lords really need instructions on how to win a woman’s favor? It’s a courting. Present your case to her. Tell her why she would be happy at your side, in whatever manner you see fit. In the end, she will choose the man who most appeals to her. The only rule is that you will not lie to her. Whatever life you offer, you will be bound to provide. Should you be proven to have lied in order to gain her favor, you will lose your right to her. Claiming mark or no.”
A murmur rose up among the gathered males. The shock was palpable in the room.
Something tried to soften behind Georgia’s ribs. Something ridiculous that she wanted no more part of. But still. This stipulation…
Even if he didn’t care about her in the way she’d been stupid enough to think for a few, precious moments, he did care enough to ensure she wouldn’t be tricked into a life she didn’t sign up for.
Yes, what a fucking hero he is.
The wave of irritation at her heart’s attempt to soften for the brute who’d broken it only a day before made her able to push down the small spike of gratitude.
“She will choose?” a large, red-haired male asked from the crowd. His handsome but brutal face was drawn in outrage. Georgia made a mental note to stay far away from him.
“You would break an established mating claim!?” another gasped.
“Yes, the Breeder will choose her mate from among you herself.” From behind the throne, Kesh’s father stepped forward to stand by their side.
Without conscious thought, Georgia shrank back against Kesh, her newfound no-more-fucks-to-give attitude not quite matching up to the eerie aura this particular demon gave off.
Kesh tightened his grip on her hip, a soft rumble escaping his throat. It cut off abruptly, and she got the distinct feeling the soothing sound in response to her unease had been as involuntary as her instinctive urge to seek his protection. He did, however, keep his tight grip on her hip.
If Kirigan noticed the effect he had on her, he didn’t pay it any mind. “And yes. Your words to her today are a binding contract. You know the queen’s wishes—this is the compromise that was reached with her. No one will break your sacred bond to your new mate if you ensure she is happy. Which was already the sworn duty of any male who claims one of our desperately rare Breeders.
“We have lost too many mates to careless treatment over the years. Yes, a broken mate bond is a fate that often leads to death. But at least it will only be your death. You will not end the life of a precious Breeder under your responsibility. She would instead be allowed a new Courting, and hopefully given to a more worthy male, capable of keeping his vow to his mate's happiness. I would think none here would have any qualms about this stipulation? After all—the mothers of our species must be protected above all else.”
The man who had spoken first—Governor Maell—bowed his head. “Wise words. And wise of our queen to recognize the disconnect between our old customs and our Breeders’ needs.
“My mating took place centuries ago, when times were… different. But I can admit in hindsight, things would have been… smoother over the years, had my mate chosen me willingly. Considering the blessing our king and queen’s union has brought both them and us, it would be foolish to disregard the value of changing our practices, however challenging it may seem to realign our very nature, no?”
There was another murmur of discontent among the gathered lords.
“That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t change the fact that she has spent days alone with the prince,” a man with long, black hair and a scar down his lip bit out, keen eyes remaining fixed on her, despite addressing Kirigan. “Days where he will have influenced her, given her pleasure… He branded her, did he not? How is this… courting… anything but a pretense to sanction another Pure Breeder falling into your family’s hands?”
This time, the murmurs rose to angry shouts of agreement.
“It’s unmatched corruption!”
“This is how you reward us for supporting your family’s claim to the Americas?”
“Silence!” Kesh’s voice boomed through the room, making Georgia jump. The gathered lords quieted, but the tension in the room was nearly physical. Lips pulled back in silent snarls, fists clenched. A sharp, pungent stench touched her nostrils, like a watered-down version of the smell that had encapsulated the sleepy fishing village in Maine during the battle there. The acrid spell of violent, dark magic, this time, waiting to be released.
“You abandoned the old king for his family’s treachery in attempting to steal an illegitimate mate to their bloodline. If you are so easily convinced I would do the same, you have chosen your allegiances poorly.” Every word out of Kesh’s mouth was tense, clipped. “I will not court this Breeder. She will choose her mate without a bid from me.”
Icy talons pierced her gut as the hall erupted in calmer, though clearly surprised, murmurs. She straightened her spine until it hurt, letting anger wash away the throb of pain at his words.
“And what motivation does she have to choose anyone?” the redhead from before asked. “If the choice is purely the Breeder’s, what’s to stop her from simply staying here, unmated?”
Enough. Full stop. Enough.
“First of all, ‘the Breeder’ has a name. It’s Georgia. Hi. That’s me.” She leveled the redhead with a stare. “As for what guarantees you have that I won’t simply opt out of your little arranged wedding scenario—you’re looking at him. Staying here would mean staying with this asshole. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, ‘kay? I’d quite literally rather poke out my own eyes than spend any longer than I have to with your so-called prince. I’m sure one of you can manage to scrape together some semblance of a decent personality and a non-rapey marriage prospect.”
A low, dark rumble vibrated from Kesh’s chest into her—nearly imperceptible to her human hearing, but she felt it everywhere her body touched his. Every hair on her body stood on end in response to the primal threat of that sound, but it was a sick thrill, not fear, that shot up her spine.
His thick fingers dug into her hip, hard, and for a short second, she thought he’d yank her back against his chest. Punish her.
A long, tense moment passed as the gathered lords stared from her to Kesh in utter shock at her open disrespect of their volatile prince. Awaiting his reaction.
Slowly, finger by finger, he relaxed his grip on her hip, then leaned back against his throne in utter dismissal, allowing her to get up.
Good riddance.
Georgia got to her feet, lifted her chin, and surveyed the forty-nine men there to court her.
Even blind to their true nature as she was with the mark Kesh had given her, it was impossible to pretend they weren’t something other. The low hum of power in the room itched against her skin, and the way they watched her with singular, unified focus was as preternatural as it was unsettling.
But they were also her future.
Her choice.
“Well? Are you going to court me, or what?”
41
Georgia
Another moment’s complete silence. Then, the black-haired lord with the scar rumbled a low laugh. “You’re a spicy little thing, aren’t you? Very well. Let’s get you courted, Breeder.” He stepped forward and bowed elegantly before the dais. “Please allow me the honor of a dance.”
“There’s no music.”
His lips curved up in a wry smile. Music taken straight out of a Regency movie began playing in the hall, summoned from thin air. He held out a hand toward her, palm up.
“Well, that’s certainly a more pleasant use for your magic than what I’ve seen so far.” Georgia took the first step down the dais, studying his features. He was handsome in his human disguise, and the way he looked at her as if she were a surprising puzzle wasn’t entirely unpleasant. If he had been human, no doubt he’d be several miles out of her league.
And yet, a knot of reluctance tightened her stomach at his outstretched hand.
Without meaning to, she glanced over her shoulder at Kesh.
He didn’t even look at her. He was staring straight ahead at the gathered lords, chin propped up on one hand, looking regal and bored.
Georgia drew in a deep breath and turned her focus back to the waiting lord. Carefully, she placed her palm in his.
He closed his warm fingers around her wrist, carefully, and gently drew her down the final step and closer to his body. “Do you know the steps? Modern women dance to different music, I know.”
She shook her head, and he smiled indulgently. “Don’t worry, little Breeder. I’ll show you.”
“My name is Georgia.” The tartness of her voice made him shoot her a chastised grin.
“My apologies, Georgia. Breeder is a title of honor, but I will use your lovely name if you prefer. Is it a shortening of Georgina?”
“Yeah. My mom was reading a book with a main character called Georgina at the time she found out she was pregnant with me.” There was an odd twinge in her chest at the thought of her mother being pregnant with her. She remembered her excitement when she was carrying Larry, but somehow the idea that she might have felt similar joy with Georgia was… alien.
She pushed it down, with the rest of the tense emotions she didn’t have the capacity to deal with. “And what can I call you?”
“I am called Arduk.” He slipped his hand to her waist and pulled her in close. A snarl rose up from several of the other lords. One of them took a step toward them, his nostrils hiking up in a silent snarl that made Georgia’s heart give an involuntary spasm of fear.
Arduk looked up over her head to the prince. “Your Highness—if we are to court lovely Georgina without… incident, may I request your tempering rule to avoid any interferences? I would so hate to rip the horns off Lord Haru and traumatize the sweet girl in my arms, but if he takes another step in my direction, I’m afraid blood will be shed in your hall.”
“You are monopolizing the girl!” the male who’d stepped toward them—presumably Lord Haru—snarled. Growls of agreement from the others rumbled through the throne room.
“You are the most powerful beings on this continent. You are what stands between us and destruction at the hands of our enemies, demons and gods alike. Yet this is how you behave? One whiff of a Breeder, and you need to be reminded what I will be duty bound to do to you if you put the girl in any whisper of danger? Form a fucking queue! You get five minutes each. I am not losing some of our most valuable allies over a cunt.” Kesh’s voice cracked like a whip, boredom giving way to irritation. Though his words weren’t aimed at her, they still cut to the bone.
She sucked in a slow, deep breath and, projecting her voice with her whole chest, snapped, “And just so we’re clear, anyone who would ever so much as consider referring to me as a ‘cunt’ doesn’t need to bother with their five minutes. I will not be considering your courting.”
“Noted,” Arduk said, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he led her a few steps away from the dais. “You wish to be treated with respect. It’s a fair request.”
“It’s not a request,” she growled as he began leading her in a few simple steps to follow the old-fashioned music. “It’s a bare minimum.”
“Hmm, a bare minimum? I’m intrigued. What else do you require from a suitor, sweet Georgina?” He moved her easily around the floor, making the others step out of their way. She felt their fury, though it was squarely aimed at Arduk, not her.
She arched an eyebrow at him. He was looking at her with equal measures of interest and amusement. She was beginning to get the uncomfortable impression he saw her as something akin to an exotic pet throwing a hissy fit in captivity. “Oh, you think I’m going to do the work for you? You’re a demon lord. I’d think you’d be able to do better than your average human man putting in bare minimum first date effort.”
This time, the rumble of his laugh was accompanied by a gleam of challenge in his dark eyes. “Oh, I most certainly am able to. Now, let me see… If you pick me, pretty Georgina, I will shower you with adoration. Not a day will pass without my expressing my gratitude that you are mine. I will kiss every one of your fingers, your toes. And I will kiss you between the legs before every mounting.”
Heat flamed her cheeks as discomfort crawled up her spine. “Really? That’s your idea of courting?”
His smile heated. “Naturally. You’ll be spending a lot of time underneath me. I want you to know that I will ensure that time is… pleasurable to you.”
Why was it always about sex with demons.
“That’s great. And how about if I tell you ‘no’? Will you respect that?”
Arduk’s gaze remained fixed on hers. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“You have a lot of fire, my lovely. It’s… refreshing. I suspect you would grow quite bored with a mate who caved to your every command, not to mention… it’s an unnatural state for a female to dictate the terms of mating. So yes, Georgina. Sometimes I will respect your no. And sometimes, you will learn to enjoy the female pleasure of complete submission.”
Considering her experience of Hell, it shouldn’t feel like a punch to the gut to be told he would sometimes rape her. But it did.
She’d been a victim then—small and helpless and tricked into signing a contract out of desperation. Here she was, in the prince’s hall, in her beautiful dress, spine straight, head held high, and powerful suitors vying for their five minutes of her time… and this demon lord still felt completely comfortable telling her to her face that he planned on ignoring her ‘no’ when it suited him.
He had to know it would do nothing to endear him to her, but he still smiled down at her, confident that this would not make her reject him.
Before she could make her mouth produce anything more than a wheezing sound, another lord stepped in between them, closing a firm hand around Arduk’s biceps. “Your time is up. Step aside.”
The black-haired demon’s lip curled up in a silent snarl at the other’s touch. The music stopped abruptly. “Get your hand off me, or lose it. Your choice.”
“Arduk. Play nice. You’ve had your allotted time. It’s Iye’s turn to court the Breeder.” The deceptively gentle chastising didn’t come from Kesh, but from Governor Maell.
Arduk’s nostrils flared wider, but after a tense moment, he released his grip on her waist and stepped back, allowing the other demon to take his place.
“My beautiful lady, I am Iye.” The demon took her hand in his, bowed deep, and placed a light kiss on her fingers. “Lord of the territory you know as Washington State. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Um… hi.” She tried to bring her focus from the unsettling moments with Arduk to her present suitor. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“Would you care to continue dancing?”
At least he was polite.
“Sure, why not.”
He placed a hand on her hip and took her other in his, pulling her in closer—still keeping just enough of a respectful distance between them. New music flowed through the hall, a low drumbeat unlike any she’d heard before.
“Arduk gave you a taste of the music from his youth—this is from mine,” Iye said, his dark eyes on hers, drinking in her every expression.
“Oh. It’s… beautiful, but very different from anything I’ve experienced.” She frowned slightly, trying to decipher the rhythm. It went up her spine, almost primal in its nature.
“It would be. I was born more than two thousand years before you graced this Earth, my lady.”
“Wait—two thousand years ago?!” Georgia gaped up at the deceptively youthful-looking being. “That’s… wait, is that… normal?” It struck her that she hadn’t asked Kesh his age. She’d assumed he was around her age, but in hindsight… Perhaps that was why he found it so easy to detach from what they’d shared. If he were anywhere close to this lord’s age, perhaps their time together barely registered as more than a blip in his conscience.
Without thought, she glanced up at the throne. He wasn’t even looking in her direction. His focus was on his father, who stood in front of the prince, bent to whisper something into his son’s ear.
“Normal? Perhaps not quite. It is not common to reach my age. The older we get, the stronger our inherent power grows. There is… let’s call it incentive to keep your rivals from growing too aged.” Iye’s smile held little warmth. “Unfortunately for my enemies, I didn’t prove exactly easy to kill. And now I am among the eldest demons on this continent.”
“That’s, uh, quite an age gap.” Georgia glanced at him before looking back up toward the prince and his father. Kesh’s nails were dug into the armrests of the throne, drawing deep grooves into the wood. Whatever he was being told, it clearly wasn’t sitting well. Probably something about their stupid war. “I’m not really sure what we would talk about. I must seem like a toddler to you.”
His warm fingers moved from her hip to her cheek, turning her attention away from the dais and back to him. “I assure you, you do not. Do not concern yourself that I might be unable to sate your hunger for conversation, my beautiful. All my age will mean for our mating is that I am strong enough to keep you and our offspring safe. Age does not work on our minds nor bodies like it does on human men. You will be well tended under my care.”
Perhaps this wasn’t the worst offer she could get. He was polite, he was promising actual conversation, and considering how they were at war, someone strong enough to keep any children she might have with him alive seemed like a solid proposition, considering the circumstances. So long as…
“And if I say ‘no’ to certain parts of this… tending? What will you do?”
His lips curled in a small smile. With a gentle caress to her cheek, he moved his hand back to grip hers so he could swing her around, returning them to the rhythm of the ancient drums. “My beautiful, I know you will ask this of all of us, but courtesy of the courting rules the prince has implemented, we cannot lie to you. I will not mistreat you. I will not savage you. And yet, ‘no’ is not an option for a demon’s mate. In time, you will learn to appreciate this.”
“Appreciate it? Are you nuts?” Georgia dug her heels in, pulling her hand out of his light grasp in the process. “What I appreciate is having a choice! What I appreciate is not having my free will ignored!”
Iye bowed his head lightly, entirely unfazed by her anger. “I understand. A Breeder’s lot is burdensome; but it is necessary for the mating bond that you learn to enjoy the power that lies in submission. If you become mine, I promise that any resistance will be met with gentle insistence, not brutality. You should ask your coming suitors if they can swear to the same.”
Georgia gaped up at him, not managing to make her mouth form any sort of response before he stepped away. He was immediately replaced by another demon—the redhead who’d been so outspoken about her right to choose her own mate.
“Pretty Breeder… aren’t you lovely?” He gave her a slow look from head to toe that immediately made her skin crawl.
“No. I’m not picking you.” She made to turn away from him—toward literally any other male—but his strong hand closed around her biceps, forcing her back around to face him.
“Do not turn your ba—”
He didn’t manage to get another word out. One second his hand was around her arm; the next it was gone. Fine, wet mist covered her face as she stared at the bloodied stump of his arm.
The redhead let out a pained gasp, but it was drowned out by the rumble echoing through the throne room.
“You dare lay a hand on her? Under my roof?” The prince’s rough voice was barely recognizable, the thunder of it vibrating off the walls. “You paw at a woman under my protection?”
Still in shock, Georgia turned toward the dais—as did the rest of the lords
Kesh was no longer lounging on the throne. No longer looking bored.
He stood at the top of the dais, both hands clenched into fists, and something bordering on insanity flaming in his black eyes. Dark shadows oozed from his hulking form and crept along the floor, slowly filling the hall.
“Lord Ithikan offers his deepest apologies. Does he not?” Kirigan stepped forward from his place next to the throne, placing himself between his son and the rest of the room. His eyes speared into the redheaded lord, who was clutching at his stump to stem the bleeding.
“Yes. My sincere apologies, Your Highness. I meant no disrespect,” he managed to grit out.
Kesh’s nostrils flared in response, but this time Lord Maell stepped in. “Your apologies are noted. Please allow the prince’s men to escort you off the premises. Your presence is no longer required at this courting.”
Ithikan’s face twisted in anger, but another look at Kesh’s darkly shadowed figure, and he bowed his head an inch. “Certainly.”
A soft murmur spread among the other lords as four of the guards stationed along the walls approached the maimed lord to escort him out of the room.
“Please, my lords—don’t let this little, ah, incident ruin the sanctity of such a joyous event. Who is next to court the lovely Georgina?” Governor Maell smiled widely at the room, ignoring the still-simmering prince behind him.
After only a brief hesitation, another male stepped up to Georgia, blocking her view of the dais, though being careful not to touch her.
“My lady. You are even more exquisite covered in blood.”
He made it sound like a compliment, but it wasn’t until then that Georgia realized what the wet mist covering her face was: liquified demon hand.
“Oh, ew! Ew, ew, ew!” She wiped desperately at her face with an arm—it came back smeared in red.
“Servants! Bring the lady a bowl of water and a soft cloth!” her newest suitor demanded at no one in particular, swiftly clocking on that ‘blood’ wasn’t her accessory of choice.
A bowl of warm water and a cloth made from silk arrived in seconds. She grabbed it without fanfare, dunked it, and for a good five minutes, her whole focus was on scrubbing demon off her face and arm. Once she was finally satisfied she wouldn’t accidentally swallow a few drops of Ithikan, she handed the bowl back with a shudder and glared up at the dais, toward the instigator of her impromptu blood shower.
