Of Golden Thread and Ivory Claws

• Four: Of Sneaks and Godly Patrons •

She mentally cursed herself to the depths of Hel's realm. Gods, they definitely heard! Unconsciously, her hand lifted to her mouth as if to guard them from hearing her breathing. The air grew tense and so very silent.

A pebble could have fallen in another room and it would have been heard.

Slowly, she began to shift her feet with care - moving with the silence she should have had initially. But with her first step, that deep octave boomed from behind her - as close as the door, but not quite in the hallway. If it was possible, Sifrina would have jumped from her skin.

"You truly believe you can escape? Perhaps you are a rat," his voice paused, and she could've sworn she felt his breath on the nape of her neck, "but will you prove to be a foolish rat? Because it matters naught whether you flee, you are caught. Run or chose to reveal yourself with dignity, I care not." His voice was hard and menacing, and a shudder threatened to shake her body.

Instead of allowing it to, she remembered her previous rage and used the alcohol still running wild within her veins to fuel her confidence. Running her fingers through the front of her hair, she straightened herself, took a fierce breath, and spun around in place - waltzing herself back to the guest room with vigor. Expecting to confront him at the door, she was surprised to see the brashly arrogant man still sitting in the place he had been when she had chosen to leave, this time with a severe look on his face. But that oddity quickly flew out of her mind as she marched up to their table, her balance perfectly even and posture just as poised. His height when sitting was over half of hers, but the fact that she could look down on him filled her with delight. And she greeted him as such - as the royal she was and as the brazen boy that he had proven himself to be.

"Sir, I am no rat, but perhaps you should examine your own reflection if ya wish to know what one looks like." She looked down her nose at him, the insult seemed to amuse the dark-haired man to her left, because he let out a light chortle. Her eyes flicked to his, her glare briefly set upon him. His eyes were definitely green, she subconsciously affirmed. He immediately quieted but his ugly smirked remained. Then, there were his eyes - they were calculating and assessing. Once again, she was struck with unease. Even so, he was not the one at the center of her ire.

Her attention moved back to the ginger-haired bastard sitting in front of her. Except, he did not look as hard and angry as before. His gaze had lightened as he looked at her probingly, but with an intent that she did not like in the slightest. It made her feel warmer than the alcohol already had. The man's eyes slowly took in her form from head to toe, intensely enough that it made her feel uncomfortable.

The bar maiden clothing was conservative for bar maidens. But it still hugged her body frame, showing off her feminine figure. The fact that he was so brazenly looking at her in such a way made her want to gouge out his eyes. She gritted her teeth, squaring her jaw as she willed the fire from the candles to set him aflame from within her mind, her glare burning as hot as the wick itself.

After a moment too long, he finally met her gaze and placed a hand on the table, "You are right, you are definitely not a rat." He glanced at the other man, and grinned arrogantly. A twisted amusement sparkled in his eyes, so unlike the untainted humor from before. Her fists clenched as he slowly began rising from his seat.

Her gaze did not falter even as he stood to his full height, around two or three heads taller than her. Even so, she took a step back, deciding he was now far too close. Still, she could feel the warmth of his body heat, even from where she stood. After all, he was that much larger than her, and certainly, much larger than the average Otsman.

Now, it was him looking down his nose at her. Although, he was far from angry. "I think mouse is more of an accurate description. What do you think, Loki?" he asked playfully, tilting his head a bit as if trying to outright remind her of her size in comparison to his.