Witch of Iria

Unexpected

The door is shut and I'm waiting. It's like I can hear the seconds ticking in my heart, my nerves almost getting the better of me. The fire burns hot and the shadows of flames dance across the walls.

Finn whispered in my ear that he would be back soon.

We have something to finish.

I carefully ditch the perfume that was sitting prettily on a table and hold up the vial it was in. Perfect to store blood. I open a bottle of wine I requested (the servants probably think I'm an alcoholic) and pour some into two glasses. This is the only thing I need. Enough wine and he won't remember a thing.

My fingers trembling, I pull the silky white dress off and watch it fall in a heap on the floor. My nightgown flows over my breasts, the heat from the fire sliding up my legs. I don't know why I'm scared. Maybe it's because the stakes are so high. If he catches me...

I leave the white mask on. Because this is what he wants, I think. Something that he controls and dominates. I catch myself in a mirror and wince. I look like a woman being served on a platter for a man. My mind conjures an image of being cooked in flames, the mask being clipped on my face...a bird for the banquet.

With the fae, it was always for pleasure. I'm afraid that will be true again tonight. I don't want to be attracted to Finn. But something forces it.

I lick my lips and run my hands over my hair, fixing it. I close my eyes and send a prayer up to anyone who might listen. Please, this has to work. Please.

A knock on the door startles me. So he's here.

I close my eyes for a heartbeat and step forwards, opening the door. I expect Finn to be standing there with his glib smile and his gluttonous eyes. I expect my skin to flush and to want to touch him, even knowing what he is. What I do not expect is Idris standing there with a shocked look on his face.

I stare at him and we both don't say anything. He's wearing black-finally-and it suits him. It moulds to his figure, the buttons shining dully from the light in my room. His grey eyes run up and down my body and a faint flush covers his cheeks. I can feel a blush rising in my own cheeks. I'm almost naked! What is he doing here?!

"What are you doing here?" I snap. I pull the nightgown over myself, feeling exposed. His mouth works, as if he's too stunned to answer.

"I-I came to ask for....I..." he stutters. "I came to ask for you assistance. I didn't expect to see you like...like that."

He seems to realise he's still staring at me and looks away, his eyes fixed to the wall. He picks at his sleeve and I would laugh if this weren't so awkward.

"Obviously I wasn't expecting you," I say.

"Who were you expecting then?" he asks, his eyes creeping back to the mask covering my face. He scowls. "Finn?"

He says his brother's name as if it's something foul. Maybe Idris has better taste than I thought.

"None of your business," I respond, resisting the urge to stick out my tongue. He looks even more annoyed.

He stares at me again, caught by the ridiculous mask, and he reaches out a hand to pull it from my face. I make a noise, wincing as he rips it off.

"What was that for?" I ask, my face uncovered now.

"That doesn't suit you," he says. "Now I can see your face."

I can feel myself going redder at his words. Why does he need to see my face?

"I don't care if you see my face or not," I hiss. "This wasn't for you."

"You've made that abundantly clear," he retorts, his hands clenching. "You should choose your lovers more carefully. In this court nobody is what they seem. Least of all my brother. You're a fool if you trust him."

Yeah, I really don't trust your brother. Or you.

I pull my nightgown tight against my chest, trying to hide how cold I am. A faint breeze is crawling down the corridor behind Idris. His gaze follows my movement.

"Who says I trust any of you? But you haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?"

"I need your help. Elise is...not doing well. Get dressed and come to her rooms." He clenches his jaw and I suddenly feel helpless. No, no, no. I don't want to face that curse again. That voice in the dark forest coming for me....an old memory tugs at me but it's gone again. He brushes my hand and I start.

"Gwyneth?" he asks softly. I glance upwards into his eyes and time seems to halt. He doesn't look mean or cruel or like he hates what I am...I yank my hand back as if burned.

"I'm fine. I'll just get changed," I say, waiting for him to step out of the doorway. He doesn't move. "Are you going to move?"

He smiles a little and it makes him seem wilder. He really would be at home in the forest with a face like that.

"Maybe I won't," he says, a grin threatening his lips. "There's no one else here anyway. Nothing to get embarrassed about."

"Move."

He smiles and steps backwards. I slam the door shut and pull on my dress, shedding the nightgown like a second skin. How dare he tease me! But...I do feel better than I did before. He was distracting me from that curse...from Finn's curse laid on his sister. Why would Idris try and make me feel better? He loathes witches. I can still see his dark eyes watching me and his hands pulling the mask from my face.