Deadly Wicked

5 | the poison

The Monarch's room was supposed to be inaccessible, but not for Valen. Mavyn trotted after her pretend-husband, their footsteps echoing against the vast corridor in the eastern wing. After a period of silence in his quarters, Valen started and tramped across the halls and the lobby in quick and wide steps. She had to jog just to match his pace. What an inconsiderate sod.

For the first time, Mavyn experienced what going up the ethereal steps felt like. Underneath the glass-like clinks of her soles, the polished, snow-blue surface adorned with ornate carvings of flowers and vines, and the cold seeping into her palm when she braced the balustrade, the ordinary sensation of climbing stairs greeted her. Her breath heaved when they cleared the first hurdle and stopped by the landing. What use were the wonders if she was to brace her knees and pant like a doused dog at the end?

From the landing, two stairs branched out in two opposite directions, curving towards the higher unknowns. She turned to Valen who trudged up the stairs to her right. She didn't dare lunge and yank him back, not when she wasn't as shameless at touching as he was. "Hey, egghead!" she hissed, keeping her voice modulated in case any of his siblings or parent dearest were watching them. The shadows boasted unwanted company. Mavyn charged that to experience. "Where are you going?"

Are you going to leave me on my own again? She wanted to ask, but killed the question at the root. That damned Kathari could do whatever he wanted, but he should bear the consequences of letting loose a Living witch in the Land of the Dead. For a pretend-husband, he wasn't doing a good job at it. Mavyn rolled her shoulders, bunching up her skirts and starting after him. Then again, he only married the other day; of course, he'd be bad at everything.

Mavyn caught up with Valen as he stepped off the last step and crossed the landing to the connecting corridors. More eerie ambience, grand columns and arches, and unexplored doors and branching corridors she dared not go into. If she got lost here as a consequence, Valen wouldn't look for her. Why would he? She was as inconsequential as a gnat under his soles.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you, my dear gleam." She threw her skirts down and stomped her foot. Her pointed heel tacked in a reverberating torrent, curling around the quiet hallways. Her tone was calm, placid; her words were anything but. "If we aim to keep this facade longer, we do it together."

Valen paused and faced her. Was he still angry about her comment about his involvement with the Monarch's poisoning? Without a word, he closed the distance between them, hooking a hand at the back of her neck. Her eyes widened, and she bucked against his hold. His grip never waivered. "What are you doing—"

"Calm, my gleam," he whispered. With their faces so close together, Mavyn felt the last traces of his breath against her lips. The immortal Kathari...they breathed air as well. "Calm."

Mavyn clenched her jaw but stayed still. Valen's red eyes burned brighter. He drew closer, and her eyes slammed shut. She expected pain, but it never came. A warm weight pressed against her forehead, and after a few seconds, his grip eased. Nothing changed when the sallow light flooded her vision again. Valen remained a few paces away, as if the last few seconds didn't happen.