Draconess

Chapter 9

"I'd like to take a private bath when we return," I do something I had learned from Kendra – when she was still alive. Change the subject smoothly enough and you can control any conversation with ease.

"Are you starting to feel the dirt and grime building under your finger nails?" Zarcar's mouth curls a little, "I would love to see you clean, Chyronex."

"You bathed," I avoid his words carefully, "I enjoyed seeing you out of that black robe and hood, covering your face," I'm simply being honest, "You are far more handsome this way."

"Handsome. There it is again," Zarcar doesn't seem to like me using that word, "What are you preparing to ask of me?"

"...oh, nothing," I use his words and his tone against him from when he withheld information from me in the bedchamber. I look down at his throat, and his heart beat pulsing through his veins, "I will tell you... when I'm ready, sweety," I look up into his eyes, which now adjust to my wit and my barely contained smirk.

"So, not only do you act like an abandoned animal with no home, you are also deceivingly sly, patient and biding your time... " Zarcar murmurs.

"The Moon doesn't even give me answers as to what you are trying to convey to me," I whisper, "I bore of this dance. We should skip the midnight festations and go home."

"What do you suggest we do, Chyronex?" Zarcar entertains the idea.

"Go our separate ways," I incline my head, "You, to my bed. Me, to my bath."

"And where shall you sleep?" Zarcar inquires, coyly.

"Probably in a windowsill," I murmur, "Or the rooftop, or the library, or an empty room."

"How about a bargain, Chyronex?" Zarcar asks after a moment of hesitation.

"Oh, please –"

"We can return now to the tower if you agree to undress, help me undress, and sleep w- next – to me in, in the bed. Or, we can stay out tonight, but you must dance with me either way."

"Dancing or sleeping next to you, I see or hear no bargain, but a trick," I nod at him, respectful of his cunning ways, "Expected from a sorcerer as renown as you. Perhaps on the nights I wish to sleep on the roof, you'll call the rain down on me."

"When it comes to my assessment of a witch, I need experiences to draw out your particular ways," Zarcar tilts his head to the side, "I'm simply giving you a choice of what you would prefer to do. Dancing within a crowd... or sleeping intimately within a tower... what would you prefer?"

"N-"

"Neither is not a choice," Zarcar interjects.

"I wish to bathe," I add, "In a warm bath. I must say I am tempted to return with you... but I don't know what you intend – by sleeping next to me? What an odd request. A strange thing to ask... hmm..."

"So... you ramble when you're nervous," Zarcar murmurs, "Interesting."

"You did not answer my question –"

"What will it be?" he asks, pushing me toward an option.

"I am not enjoying company tonight, I admit. I am tired. The tower, would be... a fair choice, I guess," I shrug my shoulders, looking down and biting my lip.

Zarcar was a dangerous and mysterious Master of Witches. I'd rather find out more about him in private. I felt at a loss and a disadvantage in his world of comrades and soldiers.

"We will return to the tower," I freeze when I hear the voice right next to my ear, drawled as if a promise was just sealed.

I say nothing and only look up after he pulls me along.