Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 6

But they were showering me with them to be rid of me.

For good.

The queen studied me, and I endured her scrutiny even as I tried to understand what I was sensing in the room.

I knew I had everyone's attention. However, it seemed far keener than this insignificant ch.o.r.e would need. The magnitude of the offering was astounding. But the ch.o.r.e of being done with me surely was felt by all (save Noc) as insignificant.

And yet I sensed they were all watching me closely.

I didn't like the feeling. It seemed dangerous.

And in a room filled with people who either disliked me greatly or didn't think much of me, that danger was considerable.

I knew that kind of danger.

And I knew the play that had to be made when I found myself in it.

I needed to retreat immediately.

"My grat.i.tude, your grace," I said quietly. "May I beg the favor of a servant to carry these generous gifts to my rooms?"

"I appreciate you voiced this request, as you haven't seemed to concern yourself with ordering about servants who've been scuttling around the Palace now for weeks preparing for the Bitter Gales, not to mention after the rather dire and miraculous events that occurred yesterday, in order for them to cater to your whims," Queen Aurora returned.

I fought my back snapping straight.

That was not cold.

It was spiteful.

Any guest in this palace would not hesitate to do the same.

And I'd ordered wine, bread, cheese and a fire. Noc had ordered the blasted whiskey.

Oh, and I'd asked for a sleeping draught and a bath to be brought up that morning.

But that was all.

I hadn't even requested breakfast.

"But, yes," Aurora went on to answer my request. "We'll see they're safely delivered to your rooms immediately. Now, can I further offer the services of the palace staff to a.s.sist you in packing and being certain the horses are put to your sleigh so that it's waiting for you early on the morrow?"

In other words, get out.

I didn't fight back lifting my chin a smidge. "Yes. You may. And I would be grateful."

"Excellent," she murmured, casting her eyes to her daughter (who was not her daughter), somehow communicating at the same time she was casting me out of her mind.

I was to leave.

Immediately.

I did not bow or drop into even a slight curtsy, although this was a considerable breach of protocol.

I'd been dismissed.

Therefore I turned to leave.

"As I said." I heard Frey mutter.

Apollo's words came right after. "Yes, Franka Drakkar would never do something for naught."

I heard this but it was what I was feeling coming from Noc that made my gaze s.h.i.+ft to him.

And the pang came back, ten times the strength, searing a swath of pain through my middle as I saw disappointment and even mild aversion in his eyes as he watched me move through the room.

Looking at him, I knew. I knew he'd told them of our time together last night. He'd likely shared he thought more of me than they ever would.

Undoubtedly, this was met with incredulity.

Or, perchance, hilarity.

But I knew he'd also told them I would not accept remuneration for the part I'd played in saving my universe.

Or, perhaps, not that extraordinary amount.

And I knew just looking at him, looking at the carefully blank expression on Circe's face, which I caught when I cast a swift downward glance in her direction, that they may have been offered their rewards.

But they'd declined, or at the very least eschewed such extravagance.

They'd done what they'd done out of care and concern. They'd put their lives at risk because it was the right thing to do.

They'd done it because they were good, kind people right down to their bones.

Unlike me.

I'd been born with the black soul of a Drakkar and no matter how hard Antoine had worked to cleanse it, it would forever remain midnight.

"As you said, Noctorno," I spoke haughtily, looking right in his eyes as I kept moving toward the door, "there are no such things as heroes."

Except, I thought but did not say, you.

And with that, I pulled my gaze from his, kept my head lifted and swept out of the room.

Valentine "She is not a good person," Lavinia declared.

"Mm..." Valentine murmured, her attention aimed at the large sphere sitting on its emerald-green velvet pillow on the table between Valentine and her fellow witch.

"I can understand your fascination with her, my friend, she's quite fascinating. As a snake lying coiled in the sun would be fascinating. But get too close, the snake strikes."

Valentine lifted her hand to her crystal ball, twisted her wrist and skimmed the blood-red tips of her fingers across the cool gla.s.s.

The image in it of Franka Drakkar walking with head held high from the queen's study drifted away in a mist of green smoke.

She looked up to Lavinia.

"There's more to that one," she stated.

"I'm uncertain you wish to discover it," Lavinia returned.

Valentine wasn't uncertain.

"Perhaps you forget," Valentine returned, "the rose grows amongst thorns."

"This is true," Lavinia retorted, "and I have not had any direct dealings with the woman, but I've heard much. So much, it indicates not only is Franka Drakkar a thorn, her particular thorn is dipped in poison."

Valentine studied her friend and wondered if she didn't sense it.

Lavinia was nowhere near as powerful as Valentine was.

However, she held great power. She should be able to sense it.

Where she sat across from Lavinia in the warm comfort of her rooms in the palace, she asked, "Do you not sense it?"

"I sense it," Lavinia replied.

As Valentine thought.

"Unusual in your world, no?" Valentine asked.

"Unusual and unlawful," Lavinia replied shortly.

Yes, from what Valentine had learned, it was.

Intriguing.

Valentine's gaze drifted back to her crystal as she purred, "Hmm..."

"The only reason I like that look on your face, Valentine, is because I sense your interest in Franka Drakkar will mean you will not leave our world as you'd planned after Apollo and Maddie's wedding. I enjoy your company. Over the last months, I prayed to the G.o.ds our troubles would end without too much destruction and heartache. But with the fondness I hold for you, I still faced the end of those troubles with a heavy heart for I knew it would take you away, for there would no longer be any reason for you to come back. Therefore, even if the reason you'd stay, or return, is Franka Drakkar, I'll take it."

Valentine nodded, touched in spite of herself at Lavinia's words.

Valentine made a habit of not connecting with mere mortals. Not that she was a G.o.ddess, but she was also no mere mortal. This, a habit she'd broken of late, precisely when she'd started dabbling in travel between the worlds, her own and the women she'd brought here.

"No, indeed, I do believe things will continue to be interesting in this world," she raised her eyes to Lavinia. "The good kind of interesting this time."

Lavinia shook her head, a smile playing at her mouth, and Valentine knew if she didn't feel it was beneath her, she would have rolled her eyes.

Valentine felt her lips curl at her friend's reaction, but her thoughts strayed.

There had been much that had happened over the last years in this universe. It took a great deal of attention. So it wasn't a surprise that the few people she knew in this world, most of them quite clever, had not taken the time to scratch under the surface of Franka Drakkar.

The truth of the matter was Valentine would have been interested in her even if she was as vile as they all thought she was.

In this world, much more than Valentine's own (even though it was still prevalent in her own, irritatingly), a woman had very little power.

In this world, she had to rely solely on her cunning and wits, her looks, her s.e.xuality, anything at her disposal, in order to get what she needed, grasp hold of what she wanted, wield as much power as she could ama.s.s.

These were not weak weapons in any a.r.s.enal, a woman's or a man's.

It was just, for some reason Valentine didn't understand, the organ swinging between a man's legs put him at an advantage.

In this world, where wars were still fought with swords, bows and arrows, it was understandable physical strength was valued.

Understandable but still unacceptable, as the successful reign of Queen Aurora would attest.

And from what Valentine knew, Franka Drakkar enjoyed a good life with no paid occupation, traveling the Northlands, flitting from ball to ball in fine dresses, wreaking havoc as sport as she injected her venom, her aim so true there were many who actually feared her.

Yes, Valentine found Franka Drakkar very interesting.

She had business to attend to, amongst other, more intimate needs to be met, at home. Those intimate needs she hadn't seen to in a long time.

She needed to return to New Orleans, see to that business, then spirit back for the wedding.

She was in the mood to do a little scratching, dig beneath the surface.

And it was what lay under the skin of Franka Drakkar that she wished to discover.

Noc "You're brooding."

"I'm not brooding."

"You're totally brooding."

"Who even says brooding?"

"They do here."

Noc scowled at Cora.

Princess Cora, to be precise. Her twin was an evil one, and now a dead one, a casualty of yesterday's dramas, and not a big loss.

Her body had been spirited to her parents in Hawkvale.

f.u.c.king spirited.