"I would burn the world to the ground for you and it still wouldn't be enough."
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 things you cannot have is what Kalliope knew incredibly well. Spending years trapped within her naturally timid...
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 Chapter Eighteen | Whom Calls Me Genie
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FIFTEENTH CENTURY FOURTEEN FIFTY-TWO
THE MUSIC WAS MORE BOISTEROUS THAN EVER. Yet, Kalliope endured it all as she sat down by Niklaus's boot covered feet. Her outfit was far more revealing than she would have wanted. The drapery across her delicate hips and the decorative bondage around her breasts left little to imagination. Her feet were bare except for the jewels that were scattered around various of her body. Her warm brown mane curled naturally down her back. Strips of braids litered here and there, decorated with a delicate bronze headpiece. An outfit for a jester or a gypsy, she supposed she was that for the Mikealson castle.
Kalliope sat on a pile of cushions and quilts. The goose feathers poked through the thin material of her ensemble, irritating her. She was not pleased of woed by the happenings on this night.
It had been nearly a century since Kalliope had been captured by the hybrid with intent on him making a wish.
Well, he had made his wish by now, but she still could not leave him. The wish to meet the doppleganger, wherever she may be, so he could break his hybrid curse. Kalliope had no interest in his wish, just that he finally made one at the time. But later, she would see that she was the cause of much heartbreak.
Even though Klaus had finally wished, he hid her chalice. She could not find it anywhere and with no chalice, the promise of being in service by another greedy commoner lingered. She would not leave without it, couldn't.
Her freedom depended on it.
Niklaus, well, was enjoying his indulgences in plenty. Women praised and worshipped him as he sat upon his own appointed throne. Giggling like children, flirting brazenly. Niklaus feeding from their slender necks, blood dripping from his plump lips. There was no decorum in sight. Not even the dancers as they spun with their partners were very coy with their ministrations. It was practically a glorified brothel and the sight made her lips purse.
Her wrists jingled with gold bangles, encrusted with rubies and emeralds that glimmered in the warm candle light.
Many people had dared to come up to her and asked for a spin around the cobblestone floor, but she declined them all. She enjoyed dancing very much, but not in the service of hungry gazes. In the privacy of her own chambers was a different story.
"Love, fetch me a new chalice for which I shall drink more than my fill." Klaus called down to her with a wide, hedonistic grin. Kalliope narrowed her coal lined eyes at him, scowling.
