To Claim A Crown Book Two: The Winter Harbinger (Complete)

Chapter Fifty Six: Twin

Naomi clasps tightly onto Raurlin’s hand as Horatio tugs the heavy door open. Raurlin steals a glance at Naomi before the commotion at the front door snatches both their attention. Naomi dares to look at the twins. The infamous twins. The duo are a man and woman who are a stark interest visually. The woman has thick blonde curls and pursed pink lips. She has intense blue eyes and thick full lashes.

She is dressed in an extensive pink fur coat and thigh high garters with black stilettos. She flicks her golden locks over her shoulder with a huff and a cloud of mist gathers around her face. She pouts up at her brother who is dressed in a thick coat, a silk shirt that is tucked into a pleated black skirt and knee high socks. He has deep black hair and even darker eyes.

The two turn to face Raurlin and Naomi and in a flurry of words and hugs throw themselves into the house. Naomi is enclosed in pink feathers before she can register what is happening and heavy english accents are expressing great disdain at the miserable weather.

Naomi is released with a breath of air before she is pulled into another tight hug. “My queen, you are absolutely lucky in the pool of genes if you don’t mind me saying. You’re perfection.” Naomi is released again and twirled. “Look at this dress! Femme fatale, darling. My king your queen is a fine-”

“-Fabian.” Raurlin cuts in with a warning look. “You do not know my queen. Perhaps an introduction and a bow would be more appropriate than immediate suffocation. And I would expect the same level of respect for my and your queen’s resolute”

Fabian’s sister pouts again. She steps back and drops forward dramatically, her hair falling forward in a great swoop. “Your Grace,” she exclaims, “Etta, and the pleasure is all mine.” Fabian falls beside his sister, dropping to a knee and exposing the skin of his knee in the process. “Fabian, glorious woman. But you may call me Ian.”

“And you may call me your grace,” Naomi responds with a smirk that she is unable to hide. “Please Etta, Ian, come inside. Etta would you like Horatio to take your coat?”

Etta holds her coat open revealing an extreme set of black lace lingerie complete with a corset and a bust full of cleavage. Raurlin’s eyes snap to Naomi, attempting to keep a blank expression. Naomi blurts out a laugh as she eyes Etta’s outfit.

“I wasn’t sure the way this party would end, your grace” Etta explains, “and I just wanted to be prepared. Skip the trivialities.” Etta winks suggestively at Naomi. Naomi laughs again and she shakes her head. Etta hooks her arm through Naomi’s. Naomi walks Etta to the dining room. Etta inhales.

“Oh how positively quaint, very werewolf chique with the food display. Oh is that whiskey? Yes please! Ugh we had to catch a flight just to be here and Ian wouldn’t let me drink on the flight. I get a little sloppy sometimes but I want nothing more than a whiskey right now. You want one? Here let me pour you one.”

Etta trots to the drinks cart and pours two glasses of whiskey. She hands one to Naomi and Naomi accepts it with a feeble smile. Etta clinks her glass against Naomi’s then swallows down the fingers of whiskey at one go.

“Cheers your grace. Where are the fluffy ones? I cannot wait to play with the wolves! Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find a good one to take me back to wolf mountain.” 

Etta strides out the dining room and once she’s out of sight Naomi sets her drink down and steady’s herself against a chair. Sarah strides into the room and she flops onto the chair in front of Naomi and takes a sip of the whiskey.

“This is draining for a witch,” Sarah announces. “The mingling is killing me. I could just get sloppy drunk and go run around with the wolves.”

Naomi shakes her head then laughs. “Clearly you haven’t met Etta.”

“The other half to Ian? Who is my new favourite person by the way. I haven’t met Etta. Ian has just got way too much energy. I’m going to ask Horatio to check on the stock.” Sarah glances at Naomi with a knowing look then stands up and walks out of the dining room.

Shortly after Sarah has left the room Ian is walking in. Naomi straightens immediately with a smile. Ian flops down into a share, his legs wide open. “I’ll be honest, your glorious woman, Etta and I don’t get invited out much. We’re a tad bit different. We were vampired in the late sixteen hundreds. Our parents tried to kill us. We were hunted for a little while. Exiled from our homes. When we received the invite it just felt like we may have somewhere to finally be accepted. I promise we will be respectful of your home and anything we break I will replace, personally. Now if I may ask a personal question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Is your relationship with the king strictly monogamous? Because he is quite the specimen, a warrior and a hybrid? Gods it gets me all hot and bothered.”

Ian fans himself then lifts Naomi’s glass and swallows down the whiskey. Naomi examines his face undecided if he is joking or not. She swallows down a sigh and instead smiles, appropriately. “Unfortunately neither of us are into sharing. Would you like something to eat Ian?” Naomi looks across the table.

“I didn’t smell a single human in here,” Ian counters with a frown. Naomi stiffens slightly. “Please excuse me, Ian.” Naomi walks out of the dining room and into the lounge. There’s a fire blazing in a boma outside and everyone is littered around the fire and the garden. Naomi drops down onto the couch. Etta appears and drops down beside her. “Can I smoke in here?” Naomi merely shakes her head. Etta huffs and clambers to her feet then she strides outside.

There’s another knock at the front door and Naomi bites back a groan. Horatio walks into the lounge and he holds a hand out. Naomi accepts it and Horatio pulls her to her feet.

“Naomi, if I may suggest, I have prepared a cup for you in the kitchen. The back door is unlocked. One more guest to welcome and then you can slip away for a moment of silence.”

Naomi attempts a smile. She looks forward and Raurlin is watching her intently. She nods and Raurlin excuses himself from around the fire and meets Horatio and Naomi.

“Final guest,” Horatio informs them as they walk to the front door. “Irishman named Morrissey.”

Naomi and Raurlin come to a halt at the door as Horatio tugs the door open again. A curiously serious woman is waiting with her arms tucked behind her back. She has short cut hair and intense green eyes. Her blonde hair is cut short and hangs just around her temples. She is dressed in a pitch black leather and silk get up.

Horatio frowns “you’re not Morrissey.”

The woman glares at him. “Of course not. My uncle passed away last year, the Illness no less. And no burial from his majesty but silence. Forgive me king and queen for being straight to the point I’m here for my slain uncle and him alone.”

“What’s your name?” Raurlin asks gently.

“Caro. My name is Caro.”