Chapter 66
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Next to her Esti made nervous conversation with the Prince, her words vocalized through a servant. The girl attempted, every few moments to snatch his attention away from her father and brother who would otherwise monopolize the conversation with talk of the politics of their two lands. Usoa wished she would let them speak. It would be a nice break from the game that stretched into it's second hour.
The canopy above them kept out the worst of the sun and servants with large fans kept the air flowing and cool around them. Her father sat in the center in his large chair flanked by her older brother and the Prince. Next to the Prince sat Esti with the servant who translated for her at her feat. Behind Usoa, Ochoa sat and every few minutes the sounds of muffled giggling would pass to her ears as he flirted with some daughter from a minor house. At least someone is having a good time, she thought to herself, grouchy and already hungry. She sipped on fruit juices supplied by a servant throughout the game. In front of the Prince sat Lloren.
He wore a lighter robe, still black but in thinner material more suited for the heat of the desert. He had braided his dark hair and she could see his profile clearly from her vantage point. His eyes were focused on the game, his expression relaxed. She forced herself to turn her attention away from him to the same place his eyes rested.
In the field before her, the hard packed ground that some earth-wielder had moved for them years and years before, two teams fought over a ball. There were goal posts at either end and between them, men wearing color coded skirts ran back and forth in a show of power and skill. The light-wielders among them using their own powers to create doubles and illusions. It would last until the late afternoon, ending around the evening tea so that they all could prepare for dinner.
The game annoyed her more than usual as she found, upon arrival, that she had to at least pretend to pay some attention as Ferren, it seemed, had been drafted into playing. To play before a visiting dignitary was a great honor, Usoa was not surprised to see that he had volunteered. He cut an attractive figure on the field, his skin, pulled tight over well formed muscles, gleaming in the sun. She was sure that he would notice, somehow, that she was not paying attention.
So she watched as he ran and pushed players while twisting the light to his needs. Not as strong as some of the men he shared the field with but he showed promise, from what she knew of the game.
Still, she wished that she could speak with the Prince and her father about Dark lands. She wanted to know, even as she feared her departure. Her curiosity twisted and scratched at her making her lean to listen at every question and comment she heard which meant that she caught more than her fair share of awkward conversation starters that had fizzled out quickly.
She glanced behind her at Ochoa who leaned towards a pretty girl wearing a bright green dress that showed off her dark skin and long limbs. Her brother winked at her before turning his head back to the girl. Usoa rolled her eyes and growled, crossing her arms over her chest wishing she had some form of entertainment.
The air moved strangely over her fingers as she swept them from her lap and she rubbed the tips together, a velvety feeling between them like the hide of a horse. She focused on them more, keeping her movements small and found the air shifted subtly around her fingers, she could feel a brush of something around her ankles, under her skirts.
Dark, the word came to her slowly as did the shape of it, long, thin tendrils that slid gently over her skin, wrapping itself around her arm. She looked up again, caught by the sound of her sister's translators speaking to catch the green eyes of Prince Guifre, locked on her, his lips slightly down turned.
Him, she wondered for a moment before dismissing it. The gaze was right but the feeling felt like the touch that had reached for her in the darkness of the court. She turned, his profile just the same as it had been, his eyes locked on the game ahead of him but the touch of darkness, his darkness, still played on her skin, bolder now that she had noticed it.
Her heart pounded and she stood suddenly. Guifre's eyes followed her, his frown shifting, his lips opening as if he meant to ask something. Esti turned her features twisted.
"Yes, daughter?" her father asked, his disapproval clear in his tone. "Is there something wrong?"
She forced a smile. No, father, my apologies. I am overheated and need some air, she explained quickly. A lie, a poor one, but she couldn't think of anything better. Before anyone could ask, let alone stop her, she turned, sweeping out from the canopy.
She moved quickly across the grounds, the touch of darkness brushing against her until she turned back into the palace. What, her thoughts began but dropped before forming a full idea leaving only the gentle pounding of her heart and flutter in her belly.
She slipped deeper into the halls, walking aimlessly until she reached a small garden. She sighed and sat on the edge of the fountain. She brushed her fingers along the water, just wetting the tips, as she took deep breaths, forcing herself to calm, to regain her composure.
My mother will be so upset with me. The Prince was staring at me, everyone would have noticed but Lloren, she paused in her rambling thoughts and brushed her fingers over her wrists where he had touched, that feather-light feeling still along her skin and she shivered. She turned back to the pool.
"Why am I so confused? All of this is wrong! That dark-wielder will get me into nothing but trouble! I need to end his teasing. If I just stop reacting, I'll tell him plainly that I don't want his attention," she nodded to her reflection her course set.
A fish, black as night jumped from the water. The sun caught its scales and they sparkled gold for a moment until it splashed back into the water and changed into a creature she had never seen with many arms and a fat body. This spun and popped, disappearing into inky bubbles.
She turned to find Lloren leaning against the entrance, a smile on his face.
Her mouth opened before clapping shut, it would do no good.
He stepped out of the shadow of the entrance way and walked slowly towards her. The shadows, dark now that they were alone, rolled forward as if hungry and spiraled around her ankles, reaching for her fingers and wrists.
"No one seemed to care or notice when I took my leave although your father seemed quite upset over yours," he chuckled as he settled on the edge of the fountain across from her.
She puffed out her cheeks, a pout on her lips that she had meant to be more a frown and held up her empty hands. She had no way to communicate with him.
He smiled and glanced away quickly. "Speak slowly. I understand the signs but my grasp is not as fluent as," he stopped turning back to her. "It is just not fluent."
Is he blushing, she thought as frowning at the slight color in his cheeks. No member of the court is to leave before the highest member present. It was rude of me to go like that, she explained.
"Will your father punish you?" he asked softly, his fingers dancing over the pool, small, dark fish appearing under his fingers.
She blew out a breath. Yes, but it will not be much. A night in my rooms, perhaps an afternoon working as the servants, she replied.
"A night in your room, that seems like a punishment for children," he moved his fingers over the fish he had created and their dark colored shimmered to gold.
She gasped, the half insult left unchecked. How did you do that, she asked excitedly. The dark-wielders constructs were sturdier, solid magics but they were formed of shadow and stayed that way. The colored fish were an impossibility.
He smiled, pleased that she was pleased. "You can find all colors in the darkness. You just have to be careful in separating them. As I'm sure with enough work, there must be someone in your land who can make your illusions real."
She had never heard of such a thing, not like this. Some light-wielders could make threads or platforms, her father for instance but not a something like the fish that could be touched, handled. She stared at the fish, fascinated with gold scales that should not be.
"You like this?" he asked softly, creating more adding new colors.
She nodded his head and he rewarded her with a soft smile. Her joy emboldened his darkness which crept up her thigh and wrapped around her hips.
"Your dress is very beautiful," he said softly, his eyes still on the pond, his fingers just touching the water as his darkness searched along her arms and up her body. She sat still, letting them explore, a warm feeling traveling through her body at their touch.
"It is much better than the last one, the color, even when you are still is wondrous against your skin," he his voice made her shiver more than the touch that had found its way to her neck, wrapping lazily around her, reaching for her face.
Does he mean to swallow me, she wondered lazily, her mind abuzz as if she had drunk too much wine. Something thumped in her chest, near her heart but not quite and he gasped suddenly, turning back to her.
The fish faltered, sunk back to black and the threads of shadow uncoiled as he pulled them back to himself, all at once.
Usoa took a shuddering breath and came back to herself, heat rising to her checks at the liberties she had allowed the shadow-wielder to take against her skin. What, she asked slowly, was that?
He touched is face, his mouth slightly open and a look a little like awe in his eyes as if he had just seen her, really seen her, for the first time. "I can taste what you are," he finally spoke, his words slow and deliberate, "in the air. Is it not the same for you?"
She moved to shake her head and stopped. In the Veil I can feel you, your energy is different, she explained, guilty as if she had been keeping some grand secret.
He frowned. "This is nothing," he announced. "An infatuation of our power."
An infatuation, she thought for a moment before she smiled. His words made sense, there was no other reason why she had been so befuddled by the strange man. She nodded eagerly, agreeing with him, the weight lifted off her consciousness. So whatever I feel for Ferren is just confused by this, she determined to herself.
She looked back at Lloren. The sun caught his gray eyes, turning them to glass. It tripped down his face and she was again struck with how young the man appeared. His lips twisted into a frown, his brows knit together. He is handsome, Porras would like him very much, she mused.
"I've scared you," he said suddenly, turning back to her. "I've been strange. Forgive me, it's the shadow, it's making me think things that aren't there to think."
She laughed, he sounded so formal now. It's alright, she signed before pausing. Wait, since we're alone, can you tell me about the Dark Lands?
He lifted a brow, the corner of his mouth following suit. "What is there to tell? There are trees and water. Things grow there, not like this blasted desert."
Her brow wrinkled in anger. Things grow here! Flowers that you could never imagine! And we have crops and trees too!
He laughed, a full deep sound, "I'm teasing! Don't be so upset. Truthfully I don't know what to tell you about where you are going except that it is different. The very air of it is different."
She moved to ask another question, to find out what was so different when the sound of someone clearing their throat reached her ears. She turned to see a servant standing in the entrance way.
"Pardon me, your highness," he began, "But your father has requested you return to the field. Immediately."
She nodded. He wouldn't punish me in front of everyone would he, she thought. She had never done something so drastic to earn her father's upset.
Lloren stood, still facing the fountain. "Relax, it will be fine," he said in a low voice. In a breath of shadow he disappeared leaving her to walk back with the servant alone.
It doesn't matter, she thought to herself as she crossed the courtyard to the man and together they began the journey back. By evening tea they'll all be speaking about us. But, she paused, turning back to the fountain once more. How did he find me?
The question burning in her mind, she rushed after the servant, ready to meet whatever fate her father had prepared for her.
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Next to her Esti made nervous conversation with the Prince, her words vocalized through a servant. The girl attempted, every few moments to snatch his attention away from her father and brother who would otherwise monopolize the conversation with talk of the politics of their two lands. Usoa wished she would let them speak. It would be a nice break from the game that stretched into it's second hour.
The canopy above them kept out the worst of the sun and servants with large fans kept the air flowing and cool around them. Her father sat in the center in his large chair flanked by her older brother and the Prince. Next to the Prince sat Esti with the servant who translated for her at her feat. Behind Usoa, Ochoa sat and every few minutes the sounds of muffled giggling would pass to her ears as he flirted with some daughter from a minor house. At least someone is having a good time, she thought to herself, grouchy and already hungry. She sipped on fruit juices supplied by a servant throughout the game. In front of the Prince sat Lloren.
He wore a lighter robe, still black but in thinner material more suited for the heat of the desert. He had braided his dark hair and she could see his profile clearly from her vantage point. His eyes were focused on the game, his expression relaxed. She forced herself to turn her attention away from him to the same place his eyes rested.
In the field before her, the hard packed ground that some earth-wielder had moved for them years and years before, two teams fought over a ball. There were goal posts at either end and between them, men wearing color coded skirts ran back and forth in a show of power and skill. The light-wielders among them using their own powers to create doubles and illusions. It would last until the late afternoon, ending around the evening tea so that they all could prepare for dinner.
The game annoyed her more than usual as she found, upon arrival, that she had to at least pretend to pay some attention as Ferren, it seemed, had been drafted into playing. To play before a visiting dignitary was a great honor, Usoa was not surprised to see that he had volunteered. He cut an attractive figure on the field, his skin, pulled tight over well formed muscles, gleaming in the sun. She was sure that he would notice, somehow, that she was not paying attention.
So she watched as he ran and pushed players while twisting the light to his needs. Not as strong as some of the men he shared the field with but he showed promise, from what she knew of the game.
Still, she wished that she could speak with the Prince and her father about Dark lands. She wanted to know, even as she feared her departure. Her curiosity twisted and scratched at her making her lean to listen at every question and comment she heard which meant that she caught more than her fair share of awkward conversation starters that had fizzled out quickly.
She glanced behind her at Ochoa who leaned towards a pretty girl wearing a bright green dress that showed off her dark skin and long limbs. Her brother winked at her before turning his head back to the girl. Usoa rolled her eyes and growled, crossing her arms over her chest wishing she had some form of entertainment.
The air moved strangely over her fingers as she swept them from her lap and she rubbed the tips together, a velvety feeling between them like the hide of a horse. She focused on them more, keeping her movements small and found the air shifted subtly around her fingers, she could feel a brush of something around her ankles, under her skirts.
Dark, the word came to her slowly as did the shape of it, long, thin tendrils that slid gently over her skin, wrapping itself around her arm. She looked up again, caught by the sound of her sister's translators speaking to catch the green eyes of Prince Guifre, locked on her, his lips slightly down turned.
Him, she wondered for a moment before dismissing it. The gaze was right but the feeling felt like the touch that had reached for her in the darkness of the court. She turned, his profile just the same as it had been, his eyes locked on the game ahead of him but the touch of darkness, his darkness, still played on her skin, bolder now that she had noticed it.
Her heart pounded and she stood suddenly. Guifre's eyes followed her, his frown shifting, his lips opening as if he meant to ask something. Esti turned her features twisted.
"Yes, daughter?" her father asked, his disapproval clear in his tone. "Is there something wrong?"
She forced a smile. No, father, my apologies. I am overheated and need some air, she explained quickly. A lie, a poor one, but she couldn't think of anything better. Before anyone could ask, let alone stop her, she turned, sweeping out from the canopy.
She moved quickly across the grounds, the touch of darkness brushing against her until she turned back into the palace. What, her thoughts began but dropped before forming a full idea leaving only the gentle pounding of her heart and flutter in her belly.
She slipped deeper into the halls, walking aimlessly until she reached a small garden. She sighed and sat on the edge of the fountain. She brushed her fingers along the water, just wetting the tips, as she took deep breaths, forcing herself to calm, to regain her composure.
My mother will be so upset with me. The Prince was staring at me, everyone would have noticed but Lloren, she paused in her rambling thoughts and brushed her fingers over her wrists where he had touched, that feather-light feeling still along her skin and she shivered. She turned back to the pool.
"Why am I so confused? All of this is wrong! That dark-wielder will get me into nothing but trouble! I need to end his teasing. If I just stop reacting, I'll tell him plainly that I don't want his attention," she nodded to her reflection her course set.
A fish, black as night jumped from the water. The sun caught its scales and they sparkled gold for a moment until it splashed back into the water and changed into a creature she had never seen with many arms and a fat body. This spun and popped, disappearing into inky bubbles.
She turned to find Lloren leaning against the entrance, a smile on his face.
Her mouth opened before clapping shut, it would do no good.
He stepped out of the shadow of the entrance way and walked slowly towards her. The shadows, dark now that they were alone, rolled forward as if hungry and spiraled around her ankles, reaching for her fingers and wrists.
"No one seemed to care or notice when I took my leave although your father seemed quite upset over yours," he chuckled as he settled on the edge of the fountain across from her.
She puffed out her cheeks, a pout on her lips that she had meant to be more a frown and held up her empty hands. She had no way to communicate with him.
He smiled and glanced away quickly. "Speak slowly. I understand the signs but my grasp is not as fluent as," he stopped turning back to her. "It is just not fluent."
Is he blushing, she thought as frowning at the slight color in his cheeks. No member of the court is to leave before the highest member present. It was rude of me to go like that, she explained.
"Will your father punish you?" he asked softly, his fingers dancing over the pool, small, dark fish appearing under his fingers.
She blew out a breath. Yes, but it will not be much. A night in my rooms, perhaps an afternoon working as the servants, she replied.
"A night in your room, that seems like a punishment for children," he moved his fingers over the fish he had created and their dark colored shimmered to gold.
She gasped, the half insult left unchecked. How did you do that, she asked excitedly. The dark-wielders constructs were sturdier, solid magics but they were formed of shadow and stayed that way. The colored fish were an impossibility.
He smiled, pleased that she was pleased. "You can find all colors in the darkness. You just have to be careful in separating them. As I'm sure with enough work, there must be someone in your land who can make your illusions real."
She had never heard of such a thing, not like this. Some light-wielders could make threads or platforms, her father for instance but not a something like the fish that could be touched, handled. She stared at the fish, fascinated with gold scales that should not be.
"You like this?" he asked softly, creating more adding new colors.
She nodded his head and he rewarded her with a soft smile. Her joy emboldened his darkness which crept up her thigh and wrapped around her hips.
"Your dress is very beautiful," he said softly, his eyes still on the pond, his fingers just touching the water as his darkness searched along her arms and up her body. She sat still, letting them explore, a warm feeling traveling through her body at their touch.
"It is much better than the last one, the color, even when you are still is wondrous against your skin," he his voice made her shiver more than the touch that had found its way to her neck, wrapping lazily around her, reaching for her face.
Does he mean to swallow me, she wondered lazily, her mind abuzz as if she had drunk too much wine. Something thumped in her chest, near her heart but not quite and he gasped suddenly, turning back to her.
The fish faltered, sunk back to black and the threads of shadow uncoiled as he pulled them back to himself, all at once.
Usoa took a shuddering breath and came back to herself, heat rising to her checks at the liberties she had allowed the shadow-wielder to take against her skin. What, she asked slowly, was that?
He touched is face, his mouth slightly open and a look a little like awe in his eyes as if he had just seen her, really seen her, for the first time. "I can taste what you are," he finally spoke, his words slow and deliberate, "in the air. Is it not the same for you?"
She moved to shake her head and stopped. In the Veil I can feel you, your energy is different, she explained, guilty as if she had been keeping some grand secret.
He frowned. "This is nothing," he announced. "An infatuation of our power."
An infatuation, she thought for a moment before she smiled. His words made sense, there was no other reason why she had been so befuddled by the strange man. She nodded eagerly, agreeing with him, the weight lifted off her consciousness. So whatever I feel for Ferren is just confused by this, she determined to herself.
She looked back at Lloren. The sun caught his gray eyes, turning them to glass. It tripped down his face and she was again struck with how young the man appeared. His lips twisted into a frown, his brows knit together. He is handsome, Porras would like him very much, she mused.
"I've scared you," he said suddenly, turning back to her. "I've been strange. Forgive me, it's the shadow, it's making me think things that aren't there to think."
She laughed, he sounded so formal now. It's alright, she signed before pausing. Wait, since we're alone, can you tell me about the Dark Lands?
He lifted a brow, the corner of his mouth following suit. "What is there to tell? There are trees and water. Things grow there, not like this blasted desert."
Her brow wrinkled in anger. Things grow here! Flowers that you could never imagine! And we have crops and trees too!
He laughed, a full deep sound, "I'm teasing! Don't be so upset. Truthfully I don't know what to tell you about where you are going except that it is different. The very air of it is different."
She moved to ask another question, to find out what was so different when the sound of someone clearing their throat reached her ears. She turned to see a servant standing in the entrance way.
"Pardon me, your highness," he began, "But your father has requested you return to the field. Immediately."
She nodded. He wouldn't punish me in front of everyone would he, she thought. She had never done something so drastic to earn her father's upset.
Lloren stood, still facing the fountain. "Relax, it will be fine," he said in a low voice. In a breath of shadow he disappeared leaving her to walk back with the servant alone.
It doesn't matter, she thought to herself as she crossed the courtyard to the man and together they began the journey back. By evening tea they'll all be speaking about us. But, she paused, turning back to the fountain once more. How did he find me?
The question burning in her mind, she rushed after the servant, ready to meet whatever fate her father had prepared for her.
Next to her Esti made nervous conversation with the Prince, her words vocalized through a servant. The girl attempted, every few moments to snatch his attention away from her father and brother who would otherwise monopolize the conversation with talk of the politics of their two lands. Usoa wished she would let them speak. It would be a nice break from the game that stretched into it's second hour.The canopy above them kept out the worst of the sun and servants with large fans kept the air flowing and cool around them. Her father sat in the center in his large chair flanked by her older brother and the Prince. Next to the Prince sat Esti with the servant who translated for her at her feat. Behind Usoa, Ochoa sat and every few minutes the sounds of muffled giggling would pass to her ears as he flirted with some daughter from a minor house. At least someone is having a good time, she thought to herself, grouchy and already hungry. She sipped on fruit juices supplied by a servant throughout the game. In front of the Prince sat Lloren.He wore a lighter robe, still black but in thinner material more suited for the heat of the desert. He had braided his dark hair and she could see his profile clearly from her vantage point. His eyes were focused on the game, his expression relaxed. She forced herself to turn her attention away from him to the same place his eyes rested.In the field before her, the hard packed ground that some earth-wielder had moved for them years and years before, two teams fought over a ball. There were goal posts at either end and between them, men wearing color coded skirts ran back and forth in a show of power and skill. The light-wielders among them using their own powers to create doubles and illusions. It would last until the late afternoon, ending around the evening tea so that they all could prepare for dinner.The game annoyed her more than usual as she found, upon arrival, that she had to at least pretend to pay some attention as Ferren, it seemed, had been drafted into playing. To play before a visiting dignitary was a great honor, Usoa was not surprised to see that he had volunteered. He cut an attractive figure on the field, his skin, pulled tight over well formed muscles, gleaming in the sun. She was sure that he would notice, somehow, that she was not paying attention.So she watched as he ran and pushed players while twisting the light to his needs. Not as strong as some of the men he shared the field with but he showed promise, from what she knew of the game.Still, she wished that she could speak with the Prince and her father about Dark lands. She wanted to know, even as she feared her departure. Her curiosity twisted and scratched at her making her lean to listen at every question and comment she heard which meant that she caught more than her fair share of awkward conversation starters that had fizzled out quickly.She glanced behind her at Ochoa who leaned towards a pretty girl wearing a bright green dress that showed off her dark skin and long limbs. Her brother winked at her before turning his head back to the girl. Usoa rolled her eyes and growled, crossing her arms over her chest wishing she had some form of entertainment.The air moved strangely over her fingers as she swept them from her lap and she rubbed the tips together, a velvety feeling between them like the hide of a horse. She focused on them more, keeping her movements small and found the air shifted subtly around her fingers, she could feel a brush of something around her ankles, under her skirts.Dark, the word came to her slowly as did the shape of it, long, thin tendrils that slid gently over her skin, wrapping itself around her arm. She looked up again, caught by the sound of her sister's translators speaking to catch the green eyes of Prince Guifre, locked on her, his lips slightly down turned.Him, she wondered for a moment before dismissing it. The gaze was right but the feeling felt like the touch that had reached for her in the darkness of the court. She turned, his profile just the same as it had been, his eyes locked on the game ahead of him but the touch of darkness, his darkness, still played on her skin, bolder now that she had noticed it.Her heart pounded and she stood suddenly. Guifre's eyes followed her, his frown shifting, his lips opening as if he meant to ask something. Esti turned her features twisted."Yes, daughter?" her father asked, his disapproval clear in his tone. "Is there something wrong?"She forced a smile. No, father, my apologies. I am overheated and need some air, she explained quickly. A lie, a poor one, but she couldn't think of anything better. Before anyone could ask, let alone stop her, she turned, sweeping out from the canopy.She moved quickly across the grounds, the touch of darkness brushing against her until she turned back into the palace. What, her thoughts began but dropped before forming a full idea leaving only the gentle pounding of her heart and flutter in her belly.She slipped deeper into the halls, walking aimlessly until she reached a small garden. She sighed and sat on the edge of the fountain. She brushed her fingers along the water, just wetting the tips, as she took deep breaths, forcing herself to calm, to regain her composure.My mother will be so upset with me. The Prince was staring at me, everyone would have noticed but Lloren, she paused in her rambling thoughts and brushed her fingers over her wrists where he had touched, that feather-light feeling still along her skin and she shivered. She turned back to the pool."Why am I so confused? All of this is wrong! That dark-wielder will get me into nothing but trouble! I need to end his teasing. If I just stop reacting, I'll tell him plainly that I don't want his attention," she nodded to her reflection her course set.A fish, black as night jumped from the water. The sun caught its scales and they sparkled gold for a moment until it splashed back into the water and changed into a creature she had never seen with many arms and a fat body. This spun and popped, disappearing into inky bubbles.She turned to find Lloren leaning against the entrance, a smile on his face.Her mouth opened before clapping shut, it would do no good.He stepped out of the shadow of the entrance way and walked slowly towards her. The shadows, dark now that they were alone, rolled forward as if hungry and spiraled around her ankles, reaching for her fingers and wrists."No one seemed to care or notice when I took my leave although your father seemed quite upset over yours," he chuckled as he settled on the edge of the fountain across from her.She puffed out her cheeks, a pout on her lips that she had meant to be more a frown and held up her empty hands. She had no way to communicate with him.He smiled and glanced away quickly. "Speak slowly. I understand the signs but my grasp is not as fluent as," he stopped turning back to her. "It is just not fluent."Is he blushing, she thought as frowning at the slight color in his cheeks. No member of the court is to leave before the highest member present. It was rude of me to go like that, she explained."Will your father punish you?" he asked softly, his fingers dancing over the pool, small, dark fish appearing under his fingers.She blew out a breath. Yes, but it will not be much. A night in my rooms, perhaps an afternoon working as the servants, she replied."A night in your room, that seems like a punishment for children," he moved his fingers over the fish he had created and their dark colored shimmered to gold.She gasped, the half insult left unchecked. How did you do that, she asked excitedly. The dark-wielders constructs were sturdier, solid magics but they were formed of shadow and stayed that way. The colored fish were an impossibility.He smiled, pleased that she was pleased. "You can find all colors in the darkness. You just have to be careful in separating them. As I'm sure with enough work, there must be someone in your land who can make your illusions real."She had never heard of such a thing, not like this. Some light-wielders could make threads or platforms, her father for instance but not a something like the fish that could be touched, handled. She stared at the fish, fascinated with gold scales that should not be."You like this?" he asked softly, creating more adding new colors.She nodded his head and he rewarded her with a soft smile. Her joy emboldened his darkness which crept up her thigh and wrapped around her hips."Your dress is very beautiful," he said softly, his eyes still on the pond, his fingers just touching the water as his darkness searched along her arms and up her body. She sat still, letting them explore, a warm feeling traveling through her body at their touch."It is much better than the last one, the color, even when you are still is wondrous against your skin," he his voice made her shiver more than the touch that had found its way to her neck, wrapping lazily around her, reaching for her face.Does he mean to swallow me, she wondered lazily, her mind abuzz as if she had drunk too much wine. Something thumped in her chest, near her heart but not quite and he gasped suddenly, turning back to her.The fish faltered, sunk back to black and the threads of shadow uncoiled as he pulled them back to himself, all at once.Usoa took a shuddering breath and came back to herself, heat rising to her checks at the liberties she had allowed the shadow-wielder to take against her skin. What, she asked slowly, was that?He touched is face, his mouth slightly open and a look a little like awe in his eyes as if he had just seen her, really seen her, for the first time. "I can taste what you are," he finally spoke, his words slow and deliberate, "in the air. Is it not the same for you?"She moved to shake her head and stopped. In the Veil I can feel you, your energy is different, she explained, guilty as if she had been keeping some grand secret.He frowned. "This is nothing," he announced. "An infatuation of our power."An infatuation, she thought for a moment before she smiled. His words made sense, there was no other reason why she had been so befuddled by the strange man. She nodded eagerly, agreeing with him, the weight lifted off her consciousness. So whatever I feel for Ferren is just confused by this, she determined to herself.She looked back at Lloren. The sun caught his gray eyes, turning them to glass. It tripped down his face and she was again struck with how young the man appeared. His lips twisted into a frown, his brows knit together. He is handsome, Porras would like him very much, she mused."I've scared you," he said suddenly, turning back to her. "I've been strange. Forgive me, it's the shadow, it's making me think things that aren't there to think."She laughed, he sounded so formal now. It's alright, she signed before pausing. Wait, since we're alone, can you tell me about the Dark Lands?He lifted a brow, the corner of his mouth following suit. "What is there to tell? There are trees and water. Things grow there, not like this blasted desert."Her brow wrinkled in anger. Things grow here! Flowers that you could never imagine! And we have crops and trees too!He laughed, a full deep sound, "I'm teasing! Don't be so upset. Truthfully I don't know what to tell you about where you are going except that it is different. The very air of it is different."She moved to ask another question, to find out what was so different when the sound of someone clearing their throat reached her ears. She turned to see a servant standing in the entrance way."Pardon me, your highness," he began, "But your father has requested you return to the field. Immediately."She nodded. He wouldn't punish me in front of everyone would he, she thought. She had never done something so drastic to earn her father's upset.Lloren stood, still facing the fountain. "Relax, it will be fine," he said in a low voice. In a breath of shadow he disappeared leaving her to walk back with the servant alone.It doesn't matter, she thought to herself as she crossed the courtyard to the man and together they began the journey back. By evening tea they'll all be speaking about us. But, she paused, turning back to the fountain once more. How did he find me?The question burning in her mind, she rushed after the servant, ready to meet whatever fate her father had prepared for her.
