The Knight's Eyes

24: BLACK WOODEN COFFIN

The last time he slept on a cloud, he was in the Triad Knights' quarter in the royal palace. For hours he'd lie in it hoping for no unnecessary disturbances. He'd watch the sunrise and sunset and ordered the servants to bring him his meals. Bathing was not on his mind. Only Princess Javana and how much he'd wanted to please her.

Was she thinking about him right now? Right now he was supposed to be guarding, protecting her as Summer Terror did its course. He even assumed there'd be moments when they were alone and swap kisses and accidently lose their virtue in times of heated desire.

He groaned at the butterflies fluttering in his lower extremities. One part of him still wanted her while the other despised her. If she loved him as much as she said, why did she allow Von to send him on the quest? What love could he give her if he was dead? She'd only fall for the next handsome suitor in armor.

His stomach growled that it was hungry. Getting up was not on his to-do-list. It was the seventh day of the week, his supposedly free day, and already his body craved for some action. All week he had craved this day, for sleep to claim him. Kaahiss had him dusting, fixing things, washing and polishing floors, windows, and tableware above all. The annoying lizard whipped him every time he argued against the tedious tasks leaving pink scars along his arms and shoulders.

It amazed him how fast his body healed, although as of recently learning of his Mystical soother-blood, he had never noticed it before. The raptor could sense something odd about him and vise versa. He caught the way he would stare at him or accidentally fall too calm with sympathy or regret. What was the raptor hiding? Even Abebe sometimes shunned him as if he was the silent plague. Above all his suspicions, he tried to obey- well, his tongue wouldn't though.

He flopped over onto his back and scratched in between his sturdy chest. His muscles, which took him years to form, were for swinging swords and punching noses, not scrubbing floors and doing other people's laundry. He scrunched up his nose and snarled at the ceiling with its carved designs. The one thing that topped it all was the obvious fact of the unseen witch. He couldn't even create a plan of attack without observing the witch's sorcery, strength, and routine. Every time he'd ask Kaahiss about her he'd receive a whip and Abebe and Casper simply would give an unconcerned shrug.

Were these creatures and people not afraid of Nightingale? They strolled along their daily life as if she was the best master in the world. His unusual senses read what his mirror-sooth eyes observed; there was no type of constant fear within the castle. Maybe, he thought, when the witch presented her presence the tension would grow like when she returned with the Iceburn girl. Except the only time he sensed the fear was when Nightingale saw him and Kaahiss stopped her from doing something permanent.

He propped himself against the headstand and stared at the mirror, which he had recovered days ago. Kaahiss never mentioned his fear again, although, his slithering eyes would stare at it with great curiosity. Even Curl, who had visited him once, angrily pulled it down and questioned the stupid act. The rest of his room had begun to look lived in. He was given new clothing and sandals to give his feet some air. His toiletry supplies were always provided by Casper and he was given a razor for his growing beard.

Thankfully, Abebe had agreed to shave it for him without any questions. He sighed and climbed out the bed. Stepping into a pair of breeches and a loose green shirt with a brown string design down the front that could be tied at his neck, he refreshed his face, grabbed the razor, and left the room.

As always, silence was the castle's music. The daylight from above did its normal splendid job in living up the place. Alsin placed his hands on his waist and shook his head. Again, he could not find any anger or fear in his heart. Maybe it was his humorous personality that was muffling the feelings he wanted to feel- his strange way of surviving this ordeal.