The Taming

Not Him

WaterRose, Meadow Mountain, Grier Country

ALAZARETH

Ever since those flat echoing words were spoken in that quiet corridor, Elsabet had been unable to forget them. Even slamming the door and securing herself in her chamber, could not block them from her mind.

They were now, ever-present.

She now spent most of her days cloistered in the library with Quandary sitting at her feet. The blessed pet that expected nothing of her.

But today, he was nowhere to be found.

She hated when he was gone. Assuming that he'd gone with Sebastian as he often seemed to.

She'd arrived in the library to find the ever-constant fire burning.

She'd moved about the library awhile, searching through the books as was her wont.

Eventually snuggling into the red chair she favored, warmed by the fireplace. The seat worn from her constant presence in this room. She lifted a glass of Sebastian's sweet wine to her lips. Something Elengard had brought her, to soothe her nerves today.

And likely, to end her near-constant pacing. Which did seem to work.

Bast willed it to always burn for her. Keeping the room cozy.

She'd learned that when Elengard mentioned it a month ago.

Book in lap, she was now absorbed in quests completed by a knight of the Round Table and his trusted friend, Merlinus. Elsabet's attention lapsed from the book as she ran a hand through her hair. Instantly feeling a gaze on her, she looked around.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Sebastian standing in the doorway. Leaning against the frame.

He noted she tried to avert her attention to the book, as if she'd not just spotted him. Deciding to be a bit more intrusive, he strode in and seated himself opposite her. Proceeding to quietly watch her read.

"I feel your eyes."

"Strange." His voice was absent the usual inviting note.

"I grow tired of you analyzing my every movement." She dropped the book to her lap as she looked up at him. Head tilting instantly as she fully looked at him. "Something is wrong."

Perceptive.

"Is it?"

Her eyes narrowed on him, but he didn't move.

"You've cut your hair."

That's what everyone thinks at first. He thought.

She studying the blonde hair. Observing how it waved back from his forehead to run smoothly along the sides and back of his head. Curling a bit at his nape.

"Have I?"

"Who are you?" She snapped suddenly.

It was clear in her posture, she was anything but relaxed. She softly closed the book and deliberately folded her hands over the thick cover. Taking a guarded position.

She knows.

"Impressive." He rose to pace before her. Gaze steady on her. An exact representation of how Bast moved.

Her power vibrated through her body with the energy of a clenched fist powering through a stone wall.

She plans to drop me where I stand if I make a move toward her. He recognized.

She's certain I'm not him.

"You're powerful, indeed." He remarked in admiration.

An understatement. She's generating it in tidal waves.

Though she appeared at leisure, she clutched the binding of the book she gripped in a white-knuckled fist. Silver-white hair hung around a face nearly too pointed to be beautiful, but with luminous blue eyes so striking she could mesmerize any man.

Blinding him while she struck. He speculated. Sensing how dangerous she was. He circled behind the chair, and outstretched his fingertips to trail them along the back of her chair, disturbing her long, thick hair.

Which made it instantly turn black and coarse as a horse's mane. As she twisted to peer at him through a sideways gaze.

Just as abruptly, her hair cooled back to glistening silver. Shining as though never disturbed.

He paused and noticed her demure posture. But as he slid to the other side of her chair, her eyes rolled sideways, tracking him in her peripheral.

Like a predator eyeing prey. Ready to attack.

Despite her careful efforts, her neck tensed, and jaw tightened.

"You move like him. You look like him." She remarked in a chilly voice. "Were I not me, I'd probably think you were him with a trim. But you..." She shook her head. "You're not the King of this Castle of Water."

"King of the Castle of Water, is he now?" He laughed. A different laugh then Sebastian's. Tighter, and cut short. "He'll love that."

Her jaw tightened. She studied his clothing carefully. A bored look on her face.

Insightful.

Our manner of dress is the most different thing about us. He was aware. But usually their identical images, outweighed that simple fact, to everyone except for those that knew them both well.

"Lord Bodane favors fine Grier country silks and satins, down to his highly polished boots. You are not him."

I'm not Bast.

"I most certainly am Lord Bodane."

"You are not."

Yes, yes, I am.

"Care to wager?" He cocked his head at her. Staring down at her from her right side.

"You wear plain cotton, tied conservatively at your neck there. And vested over. Your lacings are well closed...Something of which he, is incapable." She pointed out. "Your dress bespeaks you're humble, reserved. Both of which he is not."

That's accurate. He thought, grudgingly.

"But not how I move." He circled her from a distance. "

My eyes." He pointed out. Gesturing up.

She did indeed, give them a long study.

"Every line in my face."

"Identical." She admitted slowly. "But you're not him. I feel...something, when...when he is...near me."

I bet you do.

"But not now?"

"Not with you." Her blue eyes scoured his face. "Every wall in this castle bends to him when he enters. Everything wishes to be closer to him. But not you."

"That is true." He grudgingly conceded. "I am, admittedly, less loveable."

"So...Who...are you?" Her tone hardened.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's astonishing really. Most people cannot tell me from my twin...save the hair." He gestured carelessly. "So, this is what you are...His Elsabet. The creature of his interest."

Obsession is more accurate.

Warmth suffused her cheeks indicating pleasure, her disinterested expression belied.

Carefully controlled.

Interlinking his hands before his face, he tapped his lips with his index fingers. Leaning in for a closer inspection.

Her lip curled, and a hiss escaped her. Eyes melting to glowing red.

Too close, apparently.

He reached to catch her chin, but a low growl and the speeding of her breaths, gave him pause.

"Brother, I cannot recommend such foolhardy action. She doesn't savor the touch of men." Bast drawled. Entering the room, he moved to the other chair by the fire. His comforting company tempering the tenseness building between the two already in the room.

He adjusted the glass dish of nuts, absentmindedly.