As the darkness settles over Chester-le-Ford, the sounds creeping in from the world outside begin to change from construction and busy trade to more subtle, yet harrowing, sounds making their way to the otherwise silent study room.
Duke Yùick sits, his arms folded across his chest, staring, quite obviously, at Liserett. He’s been sitting like this for a few minutes now, just silently staring, thoughts race through his mind. His eyes, normally ablaze with curiosity, are now blank, it’s impossible to tell what he is thinking.
The town’s mayor sits provocatively on her desk, matching his blank gaze, a strange contrast to the smirk she presents.
Considering the new King of Perth’s attack on her after the trial, Duke Yùick had decided to escort Liserett to her home, protecting his investment all the way. He had not been overly surprised to find a Slayers Guild member in the Villa, less so than Liserett, judging by her unguarded reaction. It seemed Arkelai had interests all over Hermertia. The Slayer would be used well in Chester-le-Ford with the increasing Enderman attacks. Not a word had been exchanged since their departure from Strathceard.
Eventually, Liserett sighs and breaks the tense silence. “Friend, I appreciate your company, but this silence is becoming rather boring. You have something to say, say it.”
Yùick’s eyes close for a moment before opening, his facial expression now radically different, a sudden, convincing friendly mask. “That was quite something, a trial for the world to see. How do you feel?”
For a split second, Liserett’s face twists with anger. “I am fine Duke, the prince had nothing on me, as was seen by all.”
“Oh believe me, that much was obvious. Even if any of had wanted to claim you were guilty, the evidence just wasn’t there. But that is not what I am referring to. I asked how you feel, not what you think about the prince’s accusation.”
Liserett smiles warmly, her eyes still empty of emotions. “Feelings. That is very quaint, Duke. Surely you know me better by now?”
The Duke laughs; a rough sound in comparison to her melodious voice. “Even the most cold-hearted of us have feelings, at least for ourselves. It is whether we choose to show them to the world, that is what makes them different.”
“You intrigue me Yùick, I enjoy this. Very well, if you must know. I feel angry, power hungry and I want revenge.”
“Well, what exactly do you wish to avenge?”
Liserett chuckles, bitterly. “Scrios was older than old, the man was ancient. His last exploit, getting me with child, most likely took whatever life the man still had in him. So yes, it is possible that he simply died of old age. At this precise moment, less than an hour before our wedding, a split second after downing a cup of wine. It is possible, but it is unlikely.”
Duke Yùick smiles, shaking his head. “I would say your speculations are incredibly justified. However, a wise man once said to me, Revenge is a dish best served cold. I would tell you the same thing, and warn you against any quick action. Take some time, fade into the background. Gather more information and prove what you believe is true. Do not be afraid, but rather be smart. In this I will support you.”
“Prove what I believe is true… I hadn’t thought of that. Look at you preaching honesty.” Liserett chuckles. “Yet you may be right. I am back to my original plan, Chester-le-Ford will rise and Perth can burn for all I care.”
At the word burn, Yùick’s eyes twitch for but a moment, yet long enough for Liserett to notice. “I am glad you’ve seen sense, it would do me no good if my newest ally were to fall before she was as strong as I need her to be.” He laughs seemingly erasing any disruption in his face.
Liserett slides to her feet and walks behind the Duke’s chair, her hand softly caressing his chest as she moves. “I shall not fall, Yùick. I do not have it in me. I take. And now I wish to take you.” On these words, her hand raises to his throat, firmly gripping him. The Duke swiftly reacts, turning to face her and rising to his feet in one movement, then grabs her wrists and secures them behind her back, forcing her body against his. Liserett, smirking, approaches her face to his neck and licks the blood slowly dripping from the deep scratches her nails dug on his throat.
Ever smiling, she whispers aggressively: “Let us continue this discussion in the next room.”
_________________ Gimpy/The Italian Stallion
It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door, You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." -Bilbo Baggins
Duke of Kaine
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