But that hope was false, and far off in the very castle that they were being led to, that surprise sat atop the King, he atop his throne.
“Don’t you ever get tired of this room?” she asked with a scowl, leaning back and stretching herself out.
“Don’t you ever get tired of antagonizing me?” Idimus replied, mirroring the same unhappy sneer.
She stood and began looking at what little the King had in his chamber; “I get tired of everything eventually my Lord. Just like I am tired of waiting.” Valaira felt her heart jump, not from fear but excitement, when she heard a knock at the door.
The King almost ordered whoever it was in, but remembered that he was the only one who knew about Valaira, so he insisted on having the conversation through the door. “What is it?”
“Kalinies sends word your Majesty,” came a muffled voice from the other side of the thick oak.
The King leaned forward eagerly, as did Valaira, “Good word?”
“Yes Sire, they’ve captured them—all of them. They are headed back as we speak.”
In three hundred years, the King had never smiled. Today he got incredibly close. It was only when they both heard the door on the other end of the hallway shut that Valaira stepped in front of him, acting as though she was leaving.
“Where are you going?”
With her back turned to him, Idimus could not see the rage that streaked her face. She would never answer to him, not in a thousand years and the thought of doing so almost made her sick. But the distaste slowly turned into a smile as she faced him, falling into the part that she was to play. “With your permission, I need to prepare something for Elryia. I should only be absent a day or two.” She now faced him completely, lavender eyes locked on him, “Remember our deal. They are not to be harmed, especially Elryia. When I have taken what I need from her, you are free to do what you wish.”
The King nodded, half-tempted to go back on the agreement, planning to torture and kill her in the days that Valaira would be away—but he feared wrath and retaliation. So he would hold true to the bargain for one of the few times in his life, “Understood. I will wait for you.”
Her eyes narrowed and a slow, lurid wink was given before she exited his throne room in the usual manner, through the window on out-stretched wings.
The King rose from his throne, almost with a twinge of gratitude for Valaira, as she had been able to do what he had not: find Elryia. But a King that cautious doesn’t let anything but paranoia linger for too long, and he began to wonder what she planned to do with the young woman, why he wasn’t allowed to touch her, and what she intended to take; but most of all: was it something he could use for himself? He stared out the window as night broke, knowing tonight would be like most nights and he would not sleep for a minute. He wanted to be ready the moment she entered his castle. He may even leave his throne room, disturbingly desperate to see the face of the girl who had caused him so much trouble.