With speed she was in front of him, her hand on the handle of the danger, while her gaze burned down into his cold ones.
Her hands curled around the dagger, twisting it.
A normal person would be dead, would painfully let a grunt of pain slip, would furrowed their eyebrows in agonizing furry.
But he wasn’t a normal person.
She knew this wouldn’t kill him but oh, how much she wished it would.
She just felt so much bottled up rage towards him, hurting him or even the attempting it like this, pleased her greatly.
“Your problem is with me!” The words pushed out through gritted teeth, her lips curled into a snarl, her eyes dangerously flashing blue.
“Why do you punish her for a choice that is not her own to make? If you lay a finger on my own again and I will do the same to what you have been delusioned to be think is yours.”
She could hear Gwen mumbling in the distance, trying to tell her to stop, some gasps and mumblings asides hers, then abrupt silence.
The King stood up slowly, his hand on hers as he pulled the dagger out with blood dripping by the edge.
The tingles were always there.
The instinctive warm feeling of safety,
Damn them!
She yanked her hand away from his, holding the dagger firmly to herself.
He was standing straight now, his gaze boring down on her as he towered over her.
“I’m your King, you don’t speak to me in that manner.” His voice was controlled and powerful but she was too angry to be fazed by it.
Her eyes caught on the way his eyes darkned several shades and the zig zag line ink that spilled beneath the skin around his neck, up towards his face.
She remembered how he had done this in the car, in the hallway and to George.
She could hear thuds as the people around them dropped suddenly to their kneels, the force and dominating aura that rolled out of him in waves almost compelled her to do the same, but repelled against it.
She couldn’t even figure out where this strength to stand her ground was coming from.
Of course. His blood!
“My threat stands.” She took a step forward. “Leave Gwen alone.”
She took a step back then, a smile on her lips, her voice a little light.
“You may continue with your dinner. Lady Delice,” she gave her a smile and titled her head a little in a bow. “Laura.” Her smile broadened as she placed the dagger on the table, soiling it will the King’s blood. “I believe you must miss it by now. Don’t worry, I took good care of it while it was in my possession.” With a finger, she pushed the dagger by it’s handle, closer in Laura’s direction. “Yours.”
The Princess hissed, showing her fangs before her eyes raked over the dagger and her hands curled into fists on the table.
“Your Majesty.” She titled her head in a mockery bow.
He was still standing, looking at her with those cold eyes. Hopefully she would eventually piss him off enough to want to get rid of her.
After that, she turned and left.
“Your M-majesty, please fo-forgive me, forgive m–me. Th-is will never happen again. Punish me, my Lady is in a bad state and she can’t– please punish me.” Gwen begged, still on her kneels, tears flowing ceaselessly down her cheeks.
“You may go.”
Gwen looked up in absolute confusion, but she heard it, she was sure those were the King’s words. So without testing her luck any further, she ran right out of the dinning hall, going after her Lady to ensure that she wouldn’t do something so brash again.
***
The pride was immerse.
This was only the beginning. As long as she was here, she would ensure to make their lives hell.
For now, that would serve the King. There were some lines that he shouldn’t cross, he should know.
Suddenly someone bumped roughly into her but as she turned, the person was gone, instead all she could see was Gwen who was walking as quickly as possible to catch up with her.
She paused, holding Gwen’s by the shoulder and giving her a one over.
“Did he do anything again?” The time of her question did little to hide her underlying yet again dangerous intent. “I expected that you would follow me immediately.”
“That was brash, Milady.”
“Torturing you for something you can’t control is wrong. And if he tries one more thing, I would do just as I’ve said.”
As unwavering as her threat sounded, Zezi wondered if it truly held any standing, considering that she couldn’t hurt herself even if she tried, but he didn’t know that.
His lack of knowledge of that made the threat enough.
“Should I still get the trolley?” Gwen asked as they started walking towards her Mistress’s room.
“No. I feel full.” Her eyes twinkled with delight, as she slipped into her room and slammed the door shut behind her.
Feeling the need for a bath in order to wash off the King’s touch and any possible splash of blood from this late evening’s activity, she took off her gown and stayed in her undergarment.
Picking it off the floor to toss it in a laundry basket, a piece of paper of paper fell from it.
She smiled.
That must be the stick figures drawing of her family.
Picking it up, she wondered if framing it would be a nice idea.
She unfolded the paper and immediately tossed it on the dressing table like it was fire burning her skin.
It wasn’t what she felt that had made her do that… but she smelt.
Blood and wolfsbane.
Wolfsbane was dangerous to werewolves and very rare, as rare as the only creature that could acquire them.
Blood Witches.
Who could have done this? Show as a Blood Witch or knew a blood witch in this castle?
Zezi’s eyes widened as she remembered something.
The person that bumped into her in the hallway.
With her heart, she peaked to see if the paper contained any message.
It did.
Written with Blood and wolfsbane were these bold words in rough handwriting.
‘AN ENEMY OF MY ENEMY IS MY FRIEND.
HELLO FRIEND.’