Armond nodded. "Precisely. I see you understand that art as well. But a graduate of Highrock who has earned the pin I see on your dress even now, would be sure to know the ins and outs of most melee weapons, I have no doubt."
Jess smiled in earnest. "I should have tested for my master's pin, but unfortunately, my studies have taken an unforeseen turn."
Armond nodded solemnly. “Indeed. You were too busy recuperating at the Turnsby’s after saving us all from certain damnation. No doubt that would play havoc with anyone's curriculum of studies.”
Jess shrugged. “Perhaps. But enough of such grim topics. It is good to see you, Armond. I am glad to see you looking hale and hearty!”
Twinkling honey brown eyes met her own with a gentle chuckle. “Indeed I am, dear Jessica. I have been training most diligently with my tutors. Both martial and intellectual.”
Jess nodded in approval. “Excellent, Armond. Few things help one to go farther in life than a dedicated regimen of self-improvement.”
"Perhaps," he allowed, glancing down as if he felt of a sudden uncertain. "Dear Jess, I don't suppose you'd do me the honor of sharing a dance with me this evening?"
Jess felt her cheeks tingle and her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t help smiling in reply even as she nodded, earning her a warm relieved grin from Armond. “Then I look forward to our dance, dear Jessica. Fear not, I see you have other guests to greet. I will keep you no further.” And with a parting smile that left her feeling light and happy, he proceeded to the buffet table, though he hardly put anything on his plate.
“Jessica!” Apple hissed, “pay attention to the guests!”
Jess gave her sister a quick nod and composed herself, ready to bid a cordial greeting to the next one to arrive, hoping he would have no younger sons interested in eyeing her like she was an additional buffet table.
“He’s very cute, by the way,” Apple allowed with a mischievous smile.
“Who?” Jess asked innocently.
Apple rolled her eyes. “The man who was happily chatting you up but moments ago? Having obviously spent the entire season reinventing himself for your approval? Armond?”
“Oh. Him.” Jess couldn’t help smiling. “When he’s not acting like an ass he’s completely…”
“What?”
“Adorable,” Jess admitted with a grin.
Apple gave her a knowing glance. "Just don't fall for him too hard until you know for certain, Jess. But yes, he is cute. I hope you enjoy your dance."
Jess nodded happily and was about to continue when she felt Twilight prick her shin. “Ouch. What is it, Twilight? Did someone grab your favorite fish before you could stake your claim and terrify half the guests?”
Her familiar, however, was devoid of playful banter. Twilight's piercing gaze left her chilled to the quick, his brooding presence portending the darkest of storms.
“Twilight, what’s wrong?” Jess asked, suddenly all seriousness, her lighthearted mask instantly abandoned.
“Someone of power comes, Jess. Can’t you feel it?”
And with a cold shudder, Jess realized she could. She could feel it pulsing, throbbing. Not demonic. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Nonetheless, her heart started to race, for it was not a gentle power either. Fierce, potent, tied to the savage cycle of life and death, yet somehow transcending it. A barely controlled wrath and fury that was aligned to no angel of mercy, of that she was sure. There was no way she could know this, of course. None at all. Yet she would bet her very life that she was right.
Jess felt an icy shiver race down her spine. It must be a Delver. Of a fierceness and savagery the likes of which she had never crossed before. Of that, she had no doubt. And here she was, standing in a constraining dress, without a single piece of equipment save a pathetic dirk, not even her mithril blade. Her eyes immediately began to quest in the direction of her parent's quarters, where she knew her armaments were being safely stored away. Armaments she knew she could effortlessly retrieve within moments, yet her parent's trust had been the unbreakable ward keeping her restlessness in check.
“Jess, what’s wrong?” Apple gave her sister a concerned look.
“A being of power comes,” Jess muttered softly.
Her sister cocked her head. “Royalty?”
Jess shook her head. “Not that kind of power.” Just as she resolved to dart to her parent’s quarters and damn the consequences, she realized it was too late. He was here. With hardly a word for the baroness, flustered and rendered speechless with the man’s piercing gaze, he entered their home. Wearing a silken jacket of deepest blue over a pristine white cotton tunic, exquisitely muscled legs clearly showing through tight leggings that hugged every square inch of his lower body, he turned from her mother’s flustered expression with a bemused smile to catch Jess’s gaze with his own.
His eyes were hypnotic. A fiery golden green, they dazzled and captured her attention. She didn't even hear him approach in boots dyed the black of deepest night, but suddenly he was before her. Jess found herself rendered speechless. Heart racing as he lifted her unresisting hand to his lips and oh so tenderly, briefly, kissed her knuckles before gently placing her silken-gloved hand, unresisting, to her side. Jess felt herself gasp as if she had been holding her breath the entire time, delightful shivers racing through her.
Rendered speechless, Jess was struck with the curious urge to run her trembling hand through his silky white hair. Such a silvery white hue was normally found in the oldest and frailest of mortals, yet his hair was rich, lustrous, and the man's features themselves were timeless. Primal. And the fierce animal vitality that coursed through his every graceful move, the rippling flow of his tight fitting jacket barely containing his powerful musculature, all of it conveyed the sense of a lethal predator in his prime.
Jess, for the first time she could recall, was at a complete loss for words, captivated by the beautiful savagery she sensed emanating from this man, from his lionlike poise to his fierce smile as he held her gaze with his own.
"Sir, sir! I would have the pleasure of your name and station!" Her mother had at last found herself, probably because she was not being utterly captivated by his fiery eyes, Jess decided, even as his refused to let hers go.
“My lady, please forgive my lord his intensity. He is Morlekai. Delver. Of midnight rank. There is none greater. And I am Bard Ebonheart, at your service.”
Ah, Jess thought silently to herself, the Guild representatives were here. She had wondered when they would track her down. She was vaguely aware of the other man eloquently placating her mother, but for some reason she couldn't summon the interest to care. Almost of its own volition, her hand began to stroke the strong cheek before her. The bristles were rough, and their touch exhilarated her. She could feel the faint trace of scarring underneath, and for a moment wondered what terrible encounter had left its mark upon the being of power before her. Strangely, the man before her didn't say a word while Jess was gently stroking his cheek, merely smiling in bemusement, she thought. At last, gently, he clasped her gloved hand with his own.
“I believe I have caught you unawares, my dear Jessica de Calenbry.” His smile made her quiver anew even as he gently caressed her hand, kissing it a second time. “Let me say it is my fierce and great pleasure to meet the legend, she who saved her foolish college friends from certain peril, she who slew a demon prince in single combat, freeing a demesne entire from the grip of darkest nightmare, in the flesh.” His eyes hinted at dangerous dreams and wild delights that left Jess mirroring his grin in sudden hunger. “A very great pleasure, indeed.”
“Likewise, Lord Morlekai,” Jess said softly.
The fierce warrior before her shook his head, his hypnotic gaze never leaving her own. “I am no lord, dear Jessica. Just Morlekai will do.”
“Morlekai. The Delver of midnight rank, for there is none greater.” Jess flashed a cheeky grin, causing the man before her to laugh.
“Well said. Do I dare flatter myself in t
hinking that my reputation precedes me?”
“I’m afraid not,” Jess playfully acknowledged. “I heard your bard inform Mother of your rank just now.”
His own fierce expression quirked into a playful grin and he nodded. "Fair enough. A Guild title that means little. I take any mission that suits my fancy as always, my companions faithfully by my side. I am alive, dear Jessica, and those who have dared to challenge me are not. In the end, that is all that matters."
Jess nodded her firm approval of that sentiment. “In the end, rank, prestige, even carefully thought out tactics of the battlefield matters naught compared to the single question… at the end of the battle, do you live to see the bright dawn of a new day?”
"Exactly." Morlekai's smile of approval took Jess's breath away. He turned around to gaze with some amusement at his bardic companion who was at that moment eloquently placating and tying Jessica's dear mother up in verbal knots. Jess could tell her mother wanted to speak with her immediately, and most important, did not want Jess locked in conversation with an unknown and obviously deadly individual of uncertain reputation, particularly when there were so many dozens of incredibly boring lords left to greet. Jess, of course, understood this instantly and let her eyes wander, refusing to lock gazes with her mother, glancing away before she could be pinned with any unwanted silent order.
She locked gazes with the captivating man before her and felt the most delightful tingle course down her spine. “I assume there is Guild business you wish to speak with me about?”
“Indeed,” he smiled. “There is a small matter or two we should discuss.”
Jess nodded. “Though a banquet and dance hall full of all the lords and ladies of this corner of the realm is hardly ideal.” She smiled, nodding her head in sudden deliberation. “Perhaps you would like to come with me to my greenhouse? I pride myself on raising some of the sweetest blossoms you will find in all of Erovering. Perhaps a bundle of roses for your beau?”
Morlekai slowly shook his head. “No one claims my heart at present, Jessica de Calenbry.” His smile turned wicked. “At present.”
Jess shivered a sudden hunger, not unlike the yearning she was sometimes struck with, to dash free of hearth, home, and all obligation, to explore all the mysteries of Dawn and dream, with naught but her shieldbrother and familiar by her side. Yet now it was the dangerous stranger before her she yearned for, enjoying the heady fantasy of him grabbing hold of her and kissing her fiercely, passionately, of losing herself in his dangerous embrace. His sharp scent radiated a masculine potency so heady her knees trembled. She covered it with a helpless little laugh.
So out of character was her reaction that she caught Apple's alarmed gaze locking with her own even as Jess purposely broke contact, gently leading her companion away from the far too crowded banquet hall through many well-appointed corridors, until at last they were by one of the more discrete exits out of the great house entirely, a very short walk to her own private greenhouse, the many thick double-paned glass windows that let in the light yet trapped the heat left partly open in the unusually mild weather.
In truth, Jess hardly noticed the journey. One moment, her eyes were held captive by the fierce animal presence of the man before her, the next she was surrounded by her lush blossoming garden, scents of roses, thyme, mint, and jasmine mixing with Morlekai’s own masculine aroma as she found her hands, as if of their own accord, gently unbuttoning his jacket.
One fierce hand grabbed her own. Jess felt her breath hitch with the savagery he barely held in check, though his fingers gently caressed her palm, sending tingles up and down her spine. "What is it you want from me, Jessica de Calenbry?" he asked, voice turning strangely guttural, and Jess found herself strangely exhilarated to find that she was not the only one holding a fierce hunger barely in check.
“I want, I think I want you.” Her voice was a husky whisper as she gazed into his fierce, golden green eyes, preparing herself for his sweet, sweet kiss and, she hoped, so much more.
Abruptly, to her utter humiliation, he burst out in laughter. His powerful sides heaving in sudden mirth.
"What's so funny?" A hotly blushing Jessica demanded, her almost painful need for him deflating instantly in a flush of embarrassment. Angrily, she tried to pull away but found to her horror that despite her unnatural strength, a strength so great she had to be so very careful when hugging those she loved, lest she accidentally crack a rib, was nonetheless not sufficient to pull away from his suddenly intent grip. Eyes widening in sudden alarm, she pulled away with an abrupt yank, and this time she broke free of his grip with ease, though she had the uncomfortable suspicion that he had let her go.
For all her anger, she could not deny the almost apologetic look on his fierce features as he gazed at her with fond bemusement. “What you are feeling is the pull,” he said at last, a curious knowing behind his eyes.
“The pull?” Jess asked, curious despite her initial hot anger at his humiliating rejection of her.
Still smiling, he nodded. "The law of attraction. Power attracts power. Might attracts might. Delvers attract Delvers. The stronger they are, the deadlier they are, the deeper they've gone into the pits of madness that the foolish call dreams, the greater a mark the scars of power leave." His voice had fallen to a gentle whisper, his hand lifting up of its own accord, gently brushing her crimson curls off her face and cheeks.
Jess felt her heart race, grinning despite herself, realizing how terribly hard this man was resisting the pull to press his lips against her own even now, and some part of her desperately wished he would stop resisting and give into the hunger haunting them both. His bemused gaze made it clear he knew exactly what she was thinking, even as he smiled and spoke on. “Those of us who survive Shadow are changed.” He paused, gazing at her curiously.
“Tell me, Jessica. Are you different than what you once were?”
Jess took a deep breath, forcing herself to put her passions aside. Solemnly, she nodded. “Yes.” She stroked crimson locks her dresser had gone to such lengths to string with pearls and elegantly braid. Hair that was actually the color of blood, for all that few dared say it aloud where she could hear. “My hair was once the cornsilk blond of my parents, shimmering like gold in the morning sun.” She smiled, shaking her head at the vanity she once had. “My eyes once mirrored the cloudless sky. And now? Now both are different.”
Morlekai nodded, his intense gaze never leaving her own.
The almost painful desire his potent presence had inspired was gone, fortunately, or perhaps those flames were banked but for the moment. Either way, his brilliant eyes glittering in the odd light still captivated her, but left her room to think now too.
“That’s not all, of course,” she admitted softly. “I’m strong. So terribly, terribly strong.” She gave an abrupt shudder. It was at moments such as these, when she was not lost in her garden or flights of fancy or conversations with her familiar who was even now gazing at them both, utterly silent, that she was forced to glimpse in her own mind's eye how utterly unnatural she had become.
“I, I’m not sure if I’m completely human, anymore.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t tire. Nothing fatigues me. Nothing challenges my strength. I can run. Run like a stallion. In full armor. And it's exhilarating, but it tires me out no more than if I were dreaming.” She sighed softly at that. “I have other gifts as well.”
She reflected on her intuitive sense of malice, most particularly when it was aimed at herself, less so when directed at a group, whether her family or comrades, so long as she was a part of it, somehow. It had most often manifested when she would attend the town fair with her father, who back then had always been open to new trade opportunities. For all that he preferred well thought out ventures over blind speculation, her father was more than happy to meet directly with merchants and factors visiting from all over Erovering who desired to forge trade alliances with the Calenbry clan. Most often those merchants were honest, hardworking men, though some few had
had malice in their hearts, bargaining in poor faith, even conspiring with nobles who hated her father's rise, and had sought his downfall.
In some cases, nothing less than profiting from the utter destruction of the Calenbry clan had been their endgame. During those latter encounters, her rage had burned so hot and furious that her father had not always intervened in time. Incidences of savagery she had forgotten until that very moment, shuddering before Morlekai's strangely understanding gaze. Of those poor souls, her family did not speak of. Yet in that horrific moment, captivated by those gold green eyes, Jess suddenly recalled the shouting matches her parents had engaged in after the fact, her mother calling her a savage beast, her father coming to her defense as always, his men having scoured the merchant's wagons for proof, to show before any investigating agent justification for Jess's actions. Yet oddly, no Agent of the Crown had ever questioned the Calenbry clan about the disappearance of those merchants. It was as if all the powers that be were content to let the matter lie, the gambit against Jess's family having been put to a most abrupt and ruthless end.
Her father would then remind his wife of the very first time Jess had come to their family's rescue. A lord entertained under false pretenses, enemy soldiers swarming in, their entire family soon to be butchered until Jess had intervened, Twilight alone warning her of the man who had at that very moment been preparing to enter her rooms.
Yet it had not been Jess dragged to the main hall in the laughing arms of her captor, ravished and bleeding and broken, as the youth had so viscerally fantasized, but rather Jess who led the terrified young lordling before her, blood trickling from the blade pressed so firmly to his neck.
A wild animal she had seemed to her foes, more than willing to die as long as she took down the lord's son, and she made sure her enemy could see it in her eyes, knowing well the stakes in play. And for that reason alone, the lord backed off with his bluster and threats, his personal retinue dropping their swords and surrendering. For all that she had been little more than a girl, her gaze, she had been told, was that of a warrior of old; mad with fury and unshakable resolve.
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