KINGSLAYER

♕ 5 | 9 ♕

The scene at Le Folie Rouge haunted my memory still.

"Is there a reason for your hesitation?" he asked, falsely sweet.

Perhaps I would give him up to the authorities after all. "Not at all." With that I strode close enough to pluck the brush from his fingers and said in a clipped tone, "Pick your color."

Noting the curtness, his smirk only grew as he held up the red-orange shade. I took it, hoping he could not see how clammy my hands suddenly were. Gods, I was going to have to stand between his knees. He would be lucky if I did not kick him in the groin for this when he least expected it.

Tilting his head back, he shoved back the stray ends of hair that always seemed to fall back into his eyes. Upon seeing me watching, waiting, his smile was as malicious as ever.

Doing my best to retain a safe distance, I began by putting a light wash of color over his eyes, not so intense yet. He was perfectly still to avoid getting the brush bristles in his cornea. I mentally hurled every curse I could think of at him. On the daily, he was never able to sit still like a grown adult and now, the only time it would make things less tense, he could.

I was miraculously done with the tops of his eyelids, which meant moving to the bottoms. Slowly as to not ruin my work, he looked up at me. This was too much. I bit down on my cheeks and steeled myself. He was just a ridiculous boy. There was no reason I should be uneasy in the way I was. There was no reason I should have glanced down, measuring the distance between his limp fingers and my own thighs.

His gaze stayed fixed on me as I worked. It was needed, I supposed, to avoid getting his eyes stabbed. But it still made something in me raise its head, now awake for good. He was only looking into my eyes, which was somehow a hundred times worse. Everything in me was strained to not accidentally make eye contact.

I was done with the entire first part. Stepping back, I tried to see if my work was even on both sides. "Good?" Alexander asked, a smirk still playing on the ends of his mouth as he did a terrible job of suppressing it.

Thank the Gods my face did not redden, because my heart was hammering with contempt for both him and myself. "As good as my artistry can make it," I said, purposefully painting the haughty tone in as if reminding myself who I was.

There were still many lines to act as a barrier.

I stepped forward again to deepen the darker color against his lashes. That was how my handmaidens always did it, which made my own eyes look even more deep-set. And as I did, I was reminded once again why I had not wanted to agree to this. Thankfully his eyes were not on me anymore, but I was close enough to see every individual flick of his dark lashes, all the faint freckles across the straight bridge of his nose from time in the sun. I did not let myself look lower.

"Do you know the story behind Chakranti?" I asked and my voice sounded too loud and disconnected to my own ears.

"Partly," he murmured, hands clasped together in his lap as his eyes remained closed. "Tell me anyway."

Grateful to be focusing on anything else, I began speaking. "Despite the Gods being notorious for Their multitudinous offspring, Thanatos and Kessanda only ever had one daughter, Anthea, who is the goddess of strife. Anthea lived the first century of her life in the heavens accompanying her mother, father and extended family. But perfect life in the heavens grew tiresome. She looked down and saw the people of the earth living their short lives full of such vigor, but Kessanda feared for Her daughter's safety, telling her that a young goddess such as herself should remain with others of her kind."

The red was building to a deeper crimson near the line of his lashes, and I paused for a moment to focus. If he made me break my concentration again—or worse, if he made me audibly stutter—I was going to kill him so that the only one who had to live with such humiliation was me.

"But Anthea was too curious for her own good," I began again. "She slipped out of the heavens while Thanatos and Kessanda were in council with Sargon and went down to earth. Being the deity she was, Anthea was as different from mere mortals as night and day. She did not know the ways of humans as well as she thought she did. This is why when a handsome mortal man named Sharad offered his help, she accepted.

"He shared everything he had with her, not knowing she was a goddess from above. All he knew was that she was alluring and intelligent and that he was drawn to worship her. At first, they were nothing but companions. But then..." I trailed off for a second as it occurred to me that this part of the story made the setup Alexander and I were in...complicated.

So I cut out the details. "They fell in love with each other, though it was not meant to happen. Gods and humans had always kept their distance, the latter only existing to exalt the former. And yet Anthea and Sharad were unlike their ancestors.

"The Goregyra, female servants of the underworld that served to punish and destroy enemies of the Gods, were not pleased when they heard of this budding love. They crawled up from the earth to seek retribution against Sharad for taking their goddess. He was nothing but a breakable human with weak flesh for them to tear to shreds."

As I spoke, I mixed the black and maroon pigments on the brush, only applying it to the ends of his eyes as I did mine, though his curved a bit more downwards. The rest of the color remained light enough to pair well with his pale skin.

I had to remind myself to keep talking. "Anthea was furious that the Goregyra sought to destroy the only man she ever loved. And so, holding onto power no one knew she possessed, she did what no one was brave enough to do: Anthea went into battle with the minions of vengeance. It lasted many days and many nights. At the risk of her own Godhood, she slayed them until there were none left, claiming that she would be with Sharad or she chose death.

"The Gods, seeing this mighty display take place from above, were moved by Anthea's dedication to the mortal man of her choice. Because of it, They allowed her to be with him until the end of their days. And because of this event, we have Chakranti, in which we celebrate the depths of human connection and how far we will go for the ones we care for."

I finished with the kohl the moment I ended the story.
Thank the Gods I did, because when I stepped away at a safe distance, Alexander looked over at me, the ghost of a smile on his face. "I'm not hideous, am I?"

I held back a grimace. It appeared I had done too good a job in making him beautiful.

"No," I said quickly before turning away. The heat refused to seep from my body, but I would die before revealing any signs of temptation. "We must be going. Surely the festivities have already begun."