1.03.2008

The sweetest price.

He wasn’t going to press her any further. The answer satisfied him just fine. She must have been worried about the girl, always looking to see if she was all right. He was somewhat disappointed; he thought he’d been making someone jealous. Though he was, just not the way he’d thought he been. Women had been casting long glances at this girl they’d never seen before, envying her, the center of Larkin’s attention.

He saw that she seemed easily caught in snags of long thought, and wondered if the girl she spoke of was sick and in need of medical attention. Larkin was not unaware of his charm and good looks. He knew that women would give their right legs to have just one dance with him, and felt mildly worried that he may be putting someone’s health in danger.

“I see,” he said, “I hope she’s not seriously ill.”

He let silence fall in between them as they danced. His eyes slowly wandered away from her face, and when he looked back into her eyes, he found she had been following his gaze. He gave her a guilty smile and turned his head away, politely staring elsewhere, but it didn’t last long. Soon, he was staring back into her blue eyes, realizing that just moments before they had been violet. Violet, like Tic’s, and just as beautiful.

He liked Stelon. She was different, and it wasn’t just the way she smelled, but it added to her mystery. She hadn’t been eager to be in his presence, and had even dared to lie to him, while the act to anyone else would have been utterly unthinkable. But then he saw something that didn’t fit - why would she lie about her name? Surely not just because she disliked it. Something was very wrong, and unease suddenly gripped Larkin’s stomach.

His eyes narrowed just the slightest as he stared back into her smiling face, his own smile fading. Should he be suspicious of Stelon? Was she just another girl looking for a good time in a ball she wasn’t invited to, or something else? Could she possibly be a spy? Someone was going to pay for letting her slip through. If she was someone involved in a plot against him, he was pulling her as close to him as he could - letting her stay the night in his castle! Stay the night with him, even.

She’d seen his fading smile then, but he quickly recovered, his crimson lips curving upwards again. He exhaled softly, and stared hard into her eyes. The orange flames in his own eyes seemed to suddenly blaze, his pupils an abyss, waiting to capture Stelon’s mind. It occurred to him that the aftereffects of the drink may have been making him paranoid, but the only sure cure for paranoia was the truth. And it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.

“Stelon,” he said gently, eyebrows creasing to show his reconsideration to her excuse, voice coaxing for this truth, “Are you lying to me?”

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