"Eldrin?"
His sister pressed close to him, clinging to his elbow. How vulnerable she seemed so suddenly, though she was by far the elder. For once, too, she called him by that name—the very name bestowed upon him by Lothier Moreigh himself, the Baron of Samarna. The name of a grandfather, far down the line, and Eldrin should be honored to be named after him.
"What troubles you, Odalia?"
"They told us we were going to a feast."
"This is a feast."
"Unlike any we've known," she replied, reverting back to the speech of their people. He could sense her quiet distress, the growing heaviness in her heart, all from the very moment they set foot upon Rastland Adleigh's villa.
Such distress was uncharacteristic of Odalia, yet Eldrin knew why. Glancing about, he could see what great extents Lord Rastland had gone to re-create the majesty of a vernal glade. Slender trees sprouted from giant marble pots, their branches hung with hollythorns and magnolias. The scent from these blooms mingled with the various perfumes worn by the attendees. Eldan-born and Mortal, all of them in costumed apparel. Even so, there lingered an atmosphere of artificiality, one bordering upon obscene to those who knew better.
"Hither they glance, and nowhere else," she said. "Would that I may soon vanish away into a vapor of mist, that they should turn away."
Here we were, expecting not to stand out. Eldrin watched a glimmer of Aethyr-light fall across Odalia's greenish tresses, eliciting an awestruck gasp from a passing guest. All while spying his own reflection within a crystal mirror. He saw how well those decadent robes of emerald-green silk suited his willowy frame. This impressed him, far more than he would care to admit.
"Come now, Odalia," he cooed, setting her upon a seat upholstered with peach silk. "This is no place for you to practise your tricks."
"Odalia. How loathsome that name sounds whence spoken in our tongue, I have come to realize."
"Best for us all to get used to it at this point in time," he said, switching back to Caradrin Highspeak—the common tongue for all citizens of the Empire, of which they now all belonged to. "Remember what truths Lara keeps beating us over our heads? No longer are you Velaera, the Brightstar's daughter, nor am I Daelen. Those names have little use here, except to garner the occasional jeer." At this, Odalia turned the other cheek, prying her eyes away. Eldrin tapped a finger underneath her chin, and brought her gaze back to him. "Believe me...it's a difficult thing to accept, but we must. If our clan is to endure this brave new world."
The sadness in Odalia's eyes only seemed to deepen. A stark contrast to her disposition earlier that day, singing a merry tune as the maids bathed her in rose-scented water, unable contain her excitement.
"Please, do seek me Elliard Moreigh," she begged him. "Tell him I intend to return to Ashenlight at once if that's possible."
"Await me here," he sighed. "I shall go and see if I can find him."
He departed from her side, diving into the sea of people milling about, his ears filling up with their colorful chatter.
Yet it isn't all too terrible, is it? A voice in his head seemed to whisper.
And perhaps he was inclined to agree. For now a delightful chaos began to reign in his heart as he wandered about, drinking in the sights and colors surrounding him, all his senses at once overwhelmed.
He caught sight of Elliard Moreigh in the far distance, half hidden within an alcove, and in the company of a pair of lace-clad women.
Eldrin made his way over, sweeping past a long marble table, where an elaborate dinner feast was laid out. Golden platters covered every inch of space, piled with fruit, sweets of every sort, and glazed meats seared to perfection. A white-haired fellow so jolly and plump gorged himself upon a plate of tusken prawn, licking off his fat fingers. Plum sauce dribbled down his snow-white beard, and soiling the napkin tied round his neck.
Suddenly famished, Eldrin took a step back, eyeing the remaining pieces of prawn. The fat man spotted him, and gave him a wink.
"All this is free of charge, young man, courtesy of Lord Rastland. Have your fill."
"I...I cannot," Eldrin replied.
"A weak stomach you possess, I deem? Not to worry! For once you empty out your belly in those brass pots over there, you can come back for seconds."
"Oh, how horrid," Eldrin said, shivering. Leaving the man to his business, Eldrin crept away, seeking Elliard once more. He came upon him there, frolicking with the two lace-clad maidens within the shelter of the alcove.
"By the gods, Lady Miravar," the Baron's son chortled. "Whoever taught you to do that?"
All the laughter settled down as Eldrin revealed himself. He was left, then, staring in amazement and confusion upon the scene before him. Elliard Moreigh seemed to find amusement in his reaction, for his lips now formed a sly grin, and his eyes twinkled amidst the grayish shadows.
"Seems our guests have just arrived," Elliard said. "Here, let me introduce them to you."
The one he had addressed as Lady Miravar giggled, all without showing her teeth. Her lily-white bosom partially spilled out of her undone bodice, her skirts bunched midway up her thigh. Eldrin cast her a piquant glance, noticing then how astonishingly red her cheeks were, how the veins throbbed at her temples as she labored to catch her breath.
"Forgive me for having spoiled the moment," Eldrin said, heat blossoming underneath his skin. "But I'm afraid we cannot stay long."
"But you've only just arrived!" the other woman protested, displaying a playful pout.
"I concur, Lady Amalie," said Elliard, reclining back. "The night is still young, Prince. What holds you back from enjoying it to the full?"
"It's my sister, you see. Simply being in this place has brought her to a terrible sorrow even I cannot dispel."
Elliard downed a cupful of wine and rose to his feet, dragging Eldrin away. "I shall return to you both," he called into the alcove even as he lowered the curtains over the opening. "Let me attend to this matter first."
"She's over there, upon that bench. Now if you may, I shall go now to summon her over."
"Stop...stop." Elliard raised up a palm to hold him back.
"What is it?"
"Looks to me like you're having second thoughts, Prince Eldrin."
"I..."
"My father's basis for your education so far has been through those dusty history books of his. Yet I beg to disagree. The best route to knowledge has to be through experience, not theory. So, celebrate! For tonight the named gods and our forebears have all decided to turn the other cheek." He clapped Eldrin reassuringly upon the shoulder. "Leave your sister to me."
Putting on an air of bravado, Elliard strode over to where Odalia sat, the crowd parting at his passage. Eldrin hurried forth to join them, when once more he passed the feasting table. This time around, the fat man was nowhere to be seen, the bowl of shrimp now replaced by a round of ham drowned in cherry sauce.
His hunger pangs stronger now, Eldrin pinched off a bit the size of his thumbnail and nibbled into it. Before long, he found himself partaking of another piece, then another, relishing every bite of the tender meat and the sour-sweet flavor of the sauce as it gushed down his throat.
A bout of rowdy laughter came from somewhere over his shoulder. Wiping his hands down his robe, he peered past his shoulder, only to be cornered by a pair of guests in ancient Eldan garb. A young man and a woman, both of them visitors from afar, and both of them impossibly drunk. The woman, in particular, seemed to be experiencing the effect of a different substance altogether. A filmy veil she draped over her head, like the ones the maidens of the Brightstar Court wore, only hers was of a dark red hue to match her sequined robe, complementing her smooth, golden skin.
The man shambled forward and dipped himself low before Eldrin. "My word—I thought it he was wearing a wig, but it turns out I was wrong."
Hearing this, the woman laughed. "I told you, Robiam, I told you!" Eldrin saw what a perfect pair of white teeth she had, in stark contrast to her scarlet lips. She reached out and raked her greedy hands through his hair, bursting into girlish giggles.
Robiam was quick to come to his defense. "Watch what you're doing, Hana. You're frightening the poor thing!"
"You cad!" cried the woman. "Once again, is this yet another attempt to steal my prospects away from me?"
"Well, clearly he likes me better, so I say we let him decide." Robiam pressed playfully close, his voice soft as velvet. He was a lovely young man, Eldrin saw, even for one with no trace of Eldan blood in him. His hair was of a considerable length and in ringlets, and he possessed a high-bridged nose with perfectly curved nostrils. So pale he was, and smooth, looking as if he were carved from marble.
Eldrin returned him a warm smile, to which Robiam suddenly blushed. He stepped away, clearly surprised by his own instinctive reaction.
"Lord Robiam, and Lady Hana. I tell you the truth when I say that I cannot possibly choose between the two of you. But...perhaps Fate may have a say in that." With a flourish, Eldrin swiped up a napkin from the table and tied it over his eyes. He motioned toward one of the serving boys. "Do the honors, would you please?"
The serving boy grasped Eldrin by the shoulders, and spun him around to the rhythm of clapping hands. He stretched forth his hand, mad with laughter, and promptly ground down to a dizzying halt. He removed the blindfold, the blood pulsing in his ears, and found himself in the presence of a triumphant Hana.
Eldrin stumbled forward, and Hana steadied him by the crook of his arm. "Well, Robiam," she said. "Looks like I win this round."
"Fair and square, my Lady," said Robiam. The look of awe and fear never left his countenance, though he seemed to be doing his best to conceal it.
Without any further ado, she swept him away into one of the empty rooms adjacent to the feasting hall. Bereft of windows, there the half-paneled walls showcased a selection of portraits of Eldan-born men and women hailing from different Cycles. Few so they were, and Eldrin rightfully assumed them all to be Rastland Adleigh's ancestors. A curtained daybed lay beyond a wooden balustrade, covered in tasselled cushions and pillows, decked in expensive silk and velvet.
The woman shut the door and latched it in place. Hana shrugged off her veil, and immediately he was arrested by the sight of her, standing there before him as she was.
A regal beauty she turned out to be, unexpectedly, with high cheekbones, her eyes the color of dark tea. None of the childish coquettishness of Lady Miravar, leading Eldrin to wonder how such a woman like her could be found in a place like this.
Clever of her to feign her drunkenness back there, thought Eldrin, all the more intrigued.
He followed her with his gaze as she picked up a decanter of blue crystal, pouring its contents into a goblet. The substance proved to be clear, but viscous—the consistency of honey. He watched the candlelight glisten upon her bare shoulders, and inside of him a sudden hunger awakened, not unlike the hunger which overwhelmed him back at the feasting table.
"I've only heard stories about you," she said. "Mostly from members of my society circle—all common friends of your Lord Elliard. About the elusive Brightstar twins, here from a distant land as the honored guests of the Baron Lothier Moreigh."
"I'm afraid you've been misinformed, my Lady," laughed Eldrin. "About everything, I may add."
"Well...that's what you get from listening to tactless gossip. Here—drink!" She raised the rim of the goblet against his lips. "Something to get you into the mood. They say a little goes a long way."
Eldrin took a swallow of the viscous brew, his mouth then filled with the heavy taste of spices, and a strange fruity tang which he could not describe. "It's strong. What is it?"
"The famous Salenxan elixir, dating back to the Golden Time. Legend has it that this was the very nectar drunk by the holy folk, to induce dreams and visions of the future."
A jewel-capped finger crept along the corners of his mouth to catch a stray drop of the Salenxan elixir. That same finger she inserted into her mouth, drawing Eldrin's attention once more to those full lips of hers.
Unable to help himself, Eldrin tilted his head, capturing her mouth in a kiss, one which lasted a moment longer than he'd wanted. His lips traced a line along her jaw, burying his face in the hyacinthine tumble of her hair, inhaling her distinct scent of pear and sandalwood.
"How much sweeter it tastes upon these lips, than when drunk from the cup," he whispered.
"Such a way with words you have, darling boy," she purred. "Though I could expect nothing less from your sort—you whose kin are as fabled as the elixir I hold here in my hand. The Eldan maids from the Court should have been so lucky, with you having graced their presence as you did mine."
"You think wrong, my Lady. To no Eldan maid have I given my heart's love—let alone the gift of a kiss."
"Oh...and why so? Was no one worthy?"
"It wasn't like that—not at all! Ours was a world wherein none of that mattered. Purified of all the defilements of the generations gone by, we've forgotten how life beyond the confines of our kingdom was like."
Tiny creases appeared along the corners of her mouth as they turned down. "Well, I see. Now I feel almost guilty in my intention to defile you. The gods must be looking down upon me with displeasure."
"For this night, the gods have decided to turn the other cheek." He took her hand and kissed her upon the wrist, and at once her face became flush with desire.
Hana pressed him with kisses as she led him toward the divan, flicking her tongue teasingly along his lips in between gasps. With a sudden push from her, he sank back into the divan, as she hastily undid the buttons of his tunic, all the way down to his waist. "Magnificent," she said as her hands strayed down to his taut belly. "Such a pretty creature you are." She folded over him, scarlet lips showering him with drugged kisses, her pearl-white teeth nipping at his skin. Her careless urgency displeased him somewhat, prompting him to reach over and seize her by the wrists. He relaxed his grip at once, wondering if he had hurt her, and gently drew her away from him.
"Allow me to see you," he told her, maintaining a lustrous tone of voice, staring straight into those tea-colored eyes of hers. "Let me see you—my radiant Hana."
She stiffened, and fell back into a swoon, sweat misting her golden skin as she moved, swaying to the rhythm of her own pulse. She fixed upon him a dreamy smile, sweat misting her exposed collarbone.
"Much better," he murmured. He gazed up at her, and how even lovelier she looked with the placid expression she now wore. All her troubles gone, if for just this moment.
"Such exquisite sorrow you bear," murmured Eldrin as he slowly rose, kissing her wherever his own lips landed. He pulled her down and hovered now above her, his hands upon her backside as he lifted her up against him. He descended then, briefly, into the memory of a garden and of Hana herself, clad in a simple dress, her wild curls tucked properly into a hat the color of forget-me-nots. A child, black-eyed and golden-skinned, played upon a swing, addressing her as "Mother."
A muffled cry escaped Hana. She was breathing hard, a frightened sheen in her eyes.
"What's the matter?" Eldrin cooed.
"I'm leaving." She started to wriggle away. "Robiam can have you."
"Are you frightened of me, Hana?"
"Anyone would be."
"You needn't fear me," he said. "I won't do it again, I promise. Only I cannot stand to see your perfect loveliness marred by the burden you carry."
"Don't flatter me."
"But I speak truth, not flattery. For I say you are lovely—like everything else here is. Such beauty I'd like to savor...if only you'd allow me. Will you allow me?"
Reluctantly, she nodded. He lowered his face toward her own, and with each breath he deepened the kiss, till he felt her grow pliant in his arms. He had her there and then, within the confines of the curtained divan, and there he left her asleep. Unaware of what time had passed, he quietly left the chambers, only to run into Isviel Nurad as he traced his way back to the ballroom.
"Only the midnight hour and already this has happened," she said.
Wondering if he'd been found out, Eldrin asked: "Allow me to explain..."
"I'd rather the explaining come from Elliard, if you don't mind," she said, pointing her fan then to the center of the ballroom, to where a small crowd had already gathered. In the midst of the hubbub, he saw his own sister, dancing barefoot upon the cool marble, arm in arm with the Baron's son himself. She had cast a glamor upon herself, her hair catching the light in a shimmer of white and gold.
"I've somehow suspected it would all come to this," she sighed. "Though I anticipated much worse."
"It's a good thing," Eldrin said, speaking from his heart when he declared this. "I wouldn't have had it any other way."
He then watched as Odalia threw her head back, her robes fluttering behind her, as she cast herself into Elliard Moreigh's arms in gleeful laughter.
A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've been sick for this past week, so forgive me for the light edit. Also, I've had to tone down the some of the scenes to suit the rating level. Because sensuality IS a huge part of Eldrin's character, I couldn't just omit it. (At least, just to let you know, there's an NSFW version sitting on my laptop somewhere XD)
Anyway, this scene is the one Eldrin mentioned back in the "World is a Garden" chapter. They've all really changed a lot since then...
Hope you all enjoy it. One more deleted scene coming up! :) Then I'll be posting the sidequel novella to this one.
Dedicated to @Mystique_ballerina and @Independente_Queen
"Yumeji's Theme" from "In the Mood for Love" soundtrack, by Shigeru Miyamoto