by McGill, Brie
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
Pulling a gun from his belt, Nero twirled it with one hand. “I’m a better shot than Aleister.”
“I’m sure you are.” She took a step back.
He frowned. “You still like Orion?”
Blushing, she stared at the ground.
“Tch.” He jerked his head away.
She raised her eyebrows, amused.
Shrugging, he lifted his hands in defeat, and retreated toward the fireplace. “Couldn’t hurt to ask.”
“See you later, Nero.” Ninkasi waved, and disappeared from the door.
His voice echoed in the hallway. “You monkeys better clean that off the floor before Aleister comes back! He’ll kill the both of you!”
Aleister clanged his jewel-encrusted fork against a royal goblet engraved with his family name. “This is cause to celebrate!”
Flashing his teeth at Aleister, Orion narrowed his eyes. If Aleister blew it, he’d kill him.
He’d kill him with his own turkey knife.
And then he’d roast him.
He would roast him, blow a hole deep into the earth, and drop his roasted corpse inside to serve as a feast for all the flesh-eating freaks below.
Aleister. He swore to god—
Ninkasi sashayed into the dining hall, body wrapped tightly in a shimmering turquoise silk. A thin strap around her neck supported the front of the dress, exposing her luscious back; the lower half of the dress clung delicately to her curves and fell to her ankles. A deep slit ran up the side of her dress, reaching her upper thigh, artfully displaying a subtle glimpse of flesh with every step.
Orion conceded to allowing her to wear her own clothes, provided she solemnly swore to wear something fancy. Her tastes were different than his own, but. . . perhaps he could adjust.
She styled her hair into an elegant twist: he wanted to grab her by the hair and spangle her with diamonds.
Shaking his head, he claimed his seat at the table, facing Ninkasi, and beside Aleister, who sat at the table’s head. He shot him another disparaging glance.
“We’re celebrating?” Ninkasi’s eyes scanned the righteous banquet covering the table.
“Yes.” Aleister slammed a palm on the table, clattering the premium crystal dining ware. “Orion officially has more than one friend.”
Curling his upper lip, Orion tinkered with the cuff on his sleeve.
“We should celebrate for weeks!” Aleister lifted an empty glass. “This means the time of my life wasted listening to his complaints is formally cut in half!”
Orion rapped his nails on the table. “I’ll complain twice as much.”
Ninkasi cleared her throat. “This feast is enormous.”
Orion shook his head. “Aleister really knows how to put away the turkey. Look at him.”
Aleister squinted one eye. “Do you mean stuff a turkey?”
Grimacing, Orion dug his nails into the lace tablecloth.
Aleister stood and clapped his hands. “I dedicate this feast to my friend Orion!” He threw one arm in the air.
Gritting her teeth, Ninkasi smiled nervously.
Orion slapped a palm against his forehead.
“And his doubling popularity!” Aleister’s voice echoed through the empty banquet hall.
Ninkasi gawked at the never-ending buffet of food, focus lost on the table spanning into the horizon.
“Let’s begin!” Aleister swung his hips, parading down the dining hall. “Since you can’t make another friend to pass the potatoes. . .”
Ninkasi flashed Orion an amused grin and stood from her chair, turning to follow Aleister.
This was his chance: eyes darting from side to side, Orion skulked around the head of the table, and tarried near Ninkasi’s empty seat. Reaching into his pocket, his fingers found the megalithic emerald ring that was Aleister’s family heirloom.
Taking a deep breath, he dropped the ring into Ninkasi’s champagne flute, wincing when it clinked against the crystal.
Fortunately, Ninkasi was too invested in the steamed squash and cranberry relish to notice him tampering with her glass.
Orion mentioned to Aleister that he intended to propose to Ninkasi; however, he hadn’t mentioned that he would be using Aleister’s ring for the occasion.
Or, what was previously Aleister’s ring. Orion had stolen it: but what mattered to him now was that he adhered to his personal vow never to steal again.
Rather than taking, he shifted his focus of self-improvement to giving; he would give Ninkasi a lovely engagement ring. It was the thought that counted.
Aleister had already mentioned he could choose any ring in the world; he seemed to have forgotten about this one. Aleister possessed so many rings, Orion had no idea how he kept track of them all.
“I’ll prepare a toast!” Aleister revealed a behemoth of a champagne bottle in green glass, proudly displaying it to Orion.
Orion wrinkled his nose. Of course, Aleister ignorantly imported the cheapest shit from Ruta he could find. Ignoring the spectacle, he inched closer to Ninkasi, helping himself to the turkey.
He would never admit it, but Aleister raised a fine wild turkey.
Although—Orion scooped a generous portion of stuffing—Aleister’s uncle had instituted the food provisions. Aleister merely reaped the bounty.
“Urgh.” Hunching over, Aleister widened his stance and wrestled with the bottle. Pointing one elbow in the air, he clenched his teeth and pulled on the cork, turning red in the face.
Orion froze in mid-action to observe the spectacle. A scoop of cranberry relish slopped from his spoon and splattered against the tablecloth.
The cork blasted from the bottle, rattling the chandelier with the force of a bullet, and landed in the potatoes with a soft plop.
Ninkasi stiffened and winced.
Aleister waved the bottle in the air, a geyser of champagne gushing over his hand and onto the carpet. “A toast, a toast!” He snatched his glass, serving himself first.
Orion zipped behind Ninkasi’s chair, pulling it out for her. He kept an eye on the approaching Aleister.
Lumbering over the table, Aleister dumped the bottle of champagne over Ninkasi’s glass, not bothering to tilt the glass or pour like a gentleman.
Orion gently pushed a strand of hair from Ninkasi’s face, trying to draw her attention away from the sloppy eruption of champagne, the sad affair of wasted grapes.
She smiled.
He leaned forward, grabbing the back of her head with a gloved hand, and kissed her. He opened one eye, kissing her until Aleister had completed his task of making a mess of her glass and retreated.
Ninkasi fought to suppress a bigger smile, blushing. She bit her lip.
Orion wanted to bite her lip when she did that. He had to be careful not to kiss her too much.
Aleister approached Orion’s glass.
Darting to his seat, Orion snatched the glass from his hand, tilting it. He pointed, and then balled a fist. “Tilt the glass when you pour. Tilt it!”
“Okay, fine!” Aleister flipped the bottle so it was perpendicular to the floor, the glug-glug of champagne gushing over the sides of Orion’s glass and soaking his cream-colored gloves.
Pinching the frills of his soaked glove, Orion shucked it from his hand and tossed it at Aleister.
The wet glove landed with a slap against his chest.
Aleister glanced at the glove stuck to his chest, and raised his glass. “A toast!”
Grinning, Ninkasi obliviously raised her glass. The settling bubbles obscured the ring at the bottom of the glass.
Orion lifted his glass with a bare hand.
“To our survival!” Aleister clinked his glass against the others.
Ninkasi toasted. “I’ll drink to that.”
Orion toasted with a smirk.
“And, to friendship.” Knitting his brow, Aleister wore a consternated expression.
Watching the bubbles settle in his glass, Orion frowned: only an inch of ch
ampagne survived the trip into his glass.
Knocking back his glass in one gulp, Aleister wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and shook his empty glass at Ninkasi. “Only the most elite people are invited to my dining hall, you know!”
Sipping the cheap champagne, Orion grimaced.
Ninkasi tilted her head back, a loose lock of hair sweeping against the bare skin of her shoulder. She lifted the glass to her shimmering lips, and drank the inconsequential amount of champagne in one sip.
And she swallowed the ring.
Orion stood up in his chair, eyes wide.
Face turning red, eyes tearing, Ninkasi beat a palm against her chest, coughing like she had the plague.
Aleister’s head bobbled side to side with a laugh, while he jubilantly cut into his turkey. “Went down the wrong pipe, did it?”
Orion gawked at him with an open mouth, gobsmacked. “Aleister—”
Ninkasi stood up, pushing her chair backward. Gripping the edge of the table, she leaned forward, face growing redder with every hair-raising cough.
“Aleister!” Orion marched behind Aleister’s chair and dragged it away from the table. He shoved him to his feet. “She’s choking!”
“Choking?” He looked confused. “On champagne?”
“The ring, damnit, the ring!” Planting two hands on his back, he bulldozed Aleister toward Ninkasi. “She’s choking! She swallowed the ring!”
“What do you want me to do?!” He threw his arms in the air.
Ninkasi staggered away from the table, beating her chest. She groped blindly for something, anything, eyes squinted shut, and managed to grab the back of her chair.
“Help her, you buffoon!” Orion smacked him upside the back of the head. “You’re the one who knows what to do!”
Aleister grinned. “If we wait long enough, I’ll have to give her mouth to mouth—”
“She’s fucking choking!” Face contorting, Orion dug his nails into Aleister’s arm and pointed with his hand.
Aleister waddled behind Ninkasi, slipping his arms around her middle.
Ninkasi continued to cough, face purple.
“Don’t touch her chest!” Orion bit the nails on his bare hand.
Aleister put his hands in the air. “Do you want me to save her life or not?”
The wheezing sounds replacing her coughs made Orion’s stomach twist.
Grumbling, Aleister locked his arms around her waist, hooked his hands together, and pushed against her diaphragm.
Ninkasi heaved, face a darkening shade of purple, eyes perfect circles of terror.
"Spit it out, muffin!" Aleister continued to push, each time harder than the last.
Orion winced, watching her expression.
Crouching forward, Aleister stuck his butt out, and thrust his hips forward, beating his fists against her diaphragm as hard as he could.
Doubling over, she spewed out the ring, wheezing and gasping for air.
A blood-curdling shriek escaped Aleister’s lips; his eyes followed the ring to the floor. “Hey!” He stuck his butt out again, winding his arms up for another hit.
Lifting a hand in defense, Orion opened his mouth to protest, but then gritted his teeth.
Aleister beat down on Ninkasi’s abdomen again. “That’s my ring!”
The force of the impact caused her to vomit. Bracing herself against the back of the chair, she hung her head and hurled all over the expensive velvet upholstery on Aleister’s chair.
Aleister’s voice cracked. “Where the fuck did you get my ring?!” He mechanically hit her stomach again, too enraged to process the fact Ninkasi was no longer choking.
A torrent of projectile vomit escaped her lips, splashing the edge of the table and painting a disgusting streak on the carpet.
Orion pried Aleister’s hands off her waist and yanked him away.
Aleister’s nose wrinkled with disgust. “All this time, I thought I lost it!”
“You lost it long before that ring went missing.” He jerked his head away. “You dropped it!”
“But you knew it was my ring!” Aleister raised a hand to protest, voice broken. “You could have given it back!”
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Ninkasi sank onto all fours and vomited again.
“I’m a changed man.” Orion removed his other glove, shaking his head. “I’ve given up stealing.”
“You stole my ring!” He waved his hands.
“And I decided to recycle it.” Orion tilted his head, eyes wide. “Now, it’s a gift.”
Ninkasi sank onto her heels, clutching her stomach, and moaned.
“It’s MY RING!” Aleister screamed. He balled a fist, shaking. “It was passed down from my relatives—”
Orion dismissed him with a wave. “Your inbred relatives.”
“Inbred?!” Aleister stomped forward, pointing a finger in his face. “For the past twenty years, Orion, I put up with you bringing any and every girl back to my belfry—all on a bed that technically belonged to me—whenever you found someone that looked like your dead—”
Orion ripped the bottle of champagne from the table and dumped it over Aleister’s head. Cascades of bubbles streamed down his face like a waterfall, soaking his hair like a wet dog. “This is what happens when you hold a champagne bottle perpendicular to the floor.” His eyes narrowed, and he hissed his words, cold, technical, venomous. “The increased velocity at which the champagne exits the bottle, combined with the distance at which you hold the glass, creates excessive force upon impact and nothing but bubbles. It’s careless. It’s amateur. It’s—”
“You must have lost your mind.” Aleister stepped back, shaking his wet hair from his face. “You don’t have it in you to waste alcohol like that. Where’s Orion?! You must be a doppelganger.”
“This trash from Ruta?” Orion squinted, pointing at the bottle. “I’ll bet you found it for free. You can’t expect anyone to pay to drink this stuff—”
Trembling, Ninkasi planted one hand against the seat of her chair and hoisted herself to her feet. She cleared her throat; her face was still red, and tears had dried to her face.
Glancing quickly from side to side, Orion stole a napkin from the table. He brushed a lock of hair from Ninkasi’s face, and used the napkin to pat the corners of her mouth.
She met him with a blank stare, dazed.
Orion dropped to one knee, taking her hand. He kissed her hand, and looked her sincerely in the eyes. “Ninkasi, darling. . .”
She blinked.
Collecting the ring from the floor, he wiped it against the tablecloth, and presented it to her, squeezing her hand. “Will you marry me?”
Aleister glowered at him, soaked with champagne. “Keep the ring.”
Feeling a loose board wobble beneath her feet, Ninkasi dug her nails into Orion’s arm and clutched the battered railing.
He paused. “Will you make it?”
Drawing in a deep breath, she glanced down the fusty stairwell, narrow as a closet. She had lost count of how many stories they climbed on these sodden, sinking stairs. The air was hot; each breath coated her throat with dust and spiderwebs. “I’ll be fine.” She swallowed.
A moment of silence passed, Ninkasi shadowing Orion’s rickety ascent.
“Are you excited?” He didn’t turn to face her, but the subtle inflection at the end of his question indicated a huge excitement on his part.
“The suspense is—” Another board creaked, and she wrapped her arms around the railing, terrified.
Orion glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
Wincing, she pushed herself up. “It’s killing me.”
Reaching the top of the stair, Orion produced a ring of keys from his pocket. He jingled through its vast selection, and pinched a cluster of keys. Approaching the door, he inserted one key in the top lock.
He twisted a second key in a lower lock.
He possessed a third key for the lock below that.
Ninkasi crossed her arms, marveling at his
paranoia, listening to the laundry list of locks clacking and wondering when it would end.
“Only a privileged few are granted access to my quarters.” He returned the keys to his pocket, and twisted a squealing handle.
She bit her lip. “I never would have guessed.”
Taking her by the hand, Orion opened the door and led her inside. “Welcome.”
Ninkasi stood in the edge of the doorway and placed her hands on her hips. “Wow.” She tilted her head back, and narrowed her eyes, surveying the room. “Your lair.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I prefer ‘loft.’” He crossed his arms. “It’s quite stunning in the evening when I light the candelabras.”
She smirked, studying the ancient wallpaper, and nodded with enthusiasm. “It reminds me of my grandmother’s attic.”
Trudging toward the window, Orion yanked a dangling silver cord, pulling back the black velvet draperies, exposing the view from his tower of the land below.
Ninkasi wandered toward the window, and leaned against him. “Spectacular view.” She saw the ocean in the distance, the expanse of the forest on the property, and Aleister’s podium for detonating fireworks while he maniacally presided over intoxicated rituals.
He turned his back to her. “I should have brought you here sooner. When I met you, even—”
Approaching the king-sized bed, she ran her hand along the scarlet, crushed velvet covers. “You have a luxurious bed.”
Pushing on her shoulders, he pinned her to the bed.
Grinning, Ninkasi shimmied backward, so that she sat in the center of the bed. She pulled the clip from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders, and reached to her side for the nightstand.
Orion crawled on top of her, running his hands along her sides, her hips.
She fumbled with her clip, pushing it against clutter on the nightstand. Intrigued, she rolled onto her side, investigating Orion’s messy table: there were two wine keys, a bowl full of corks, rolling papers, a large sack of tobacco spilling everywhere, a satchel of mome raths, a bronze skull-shaped ashtray, a fancy lighter, a locked notebook, and—
Snatching the familiar ceramic lizard, Ninkasi narrowed her eyes. “Why do you have this?!”
He rolled on top of her, tugging open the drawer and retrieving a long strip of black fabric. Pushing Ninkasi onto her back, he straddled her, and wrested the figurine from her hand. “Now, I’ll blindfold you.”