King of Blood

Chapter 12 - Lyanna

By the time Lyanna had drained the bath of the sanguine filth and changed into something a little more acceptable for a stroll down a human street, the lamps along the roads had flicked on, illuminating the entire street in an orange glow. The icy wind bit at her arms causing her to shiver and aggravate the wounds but she pressed on.

The coffee house was mostly empty at that late hour but in a corner sat a familiar face, though this time, his expression was laced with concern. She watched for a moment as Jehovah, the White Knight of the Seelie court, toyed with his clasped fingers on the table, two steaming mugs set out before him. He showed no signs of aggression or ambush, he only sat and waited just as he said that he would.

With a sharp inhale, Lyanna entered the building.

The moment the bell tolled above the door, his emerald eyes shot up to meet hers. He stood abruptly as if he was going to assist her over to the chair but she cast her gaze away and stalked inside, a silent message to keep his distance.

He waited until she sat before him, his eyes following her every motion, before taking his seat again. Her stare was cold and unwavering as his eyes danced precariously between her face and the mug before him.

"I got you something, figured it would warm you." His eyes drifted to the mug before her and waited in anticipation as she took the mug and took a long sip.

"Thank you." She uttered, placing down the drink from where she had taken it.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his eyes bleeding with concern as his gaze dropped to where he had run her through.

"We have a good alchemist. It will heal in a day or two."

"That's good," he nodded, his focus seemingly on something other than the room they were sitting in. "Have you told the king?"

Lyanna shook her head. Jehovah nodded gently as if processing all of the information.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean a word of it." He told her sincerely. "You're not a coward."

"And you're not entirely arrogant," she responded. She watched as he smiled slightly, looking down at his mug which he toyed with in his hands. She focused on those small dimples that graced his cheeks as he fought the smile and she couldn't help but smile back.

"You had questions?"

"You don't?" his eyes met hers with a giddy smile.

"I do, but you first."

Jehovah inhaled, seemingly assessing every possible question that he could conceive as if he was cautious that she would be unwilling to answer them all.

"What's your name?"

A simple question that he chose, and a welcome one.

"Lyanna."

He smiled as though someone had run a gentle hand through his back-to-onyx hair.

"It's a beautiful name."

She attempted to push away the warmth creeping into her chest, refusing to show any form of emotion tied to his kind words. She was a monster to him and she had to remember that.

"My turn," she began, taking another sip of her drink. "What does your world say about me?" Her eyes glinted with mischief as she smirked darkly at him. Jehovah shifted uncomfortably, almost embarrassed about what he knew to be the truth. She wanted to hear it. She needed to hear him say it.

"There could be tomes and tomes written of the rumours of the Black Knight in my lands..." he mused uncomfortably as he shifted in the seat but there was no way that she was allowing him an easy way out of the conversation.