Lady Of The Night

06 | gambling with ice

chapter 06: gambling with ice
date edited: 06.07.23

   Curiosity was a burning black hole; seducing him into resting his ear at the devil's lips. When he left the room, instead of heading straight down the hall and toward the guest wing where his room was—as he wanted to do—he waited. He waited until the knob of the door of the room next to the study turned, and a dark swash of fabric colonised his line of sight.

Ice Princess. He had been warned about her over the years. Other Lords, ladies and royals would tell him outright to stay away. That she did not have a heart. That cruelty ran through her veins. That were she cut open, her blood run white, ice to the touch. 

Somehow, every rumour he heard, she delivered upon. Sometimes—alright, many, many times, he was tempted to slit her wrists and see what colour she bled. To see if her skin would be leached of colour, whether her expression would change. On rare occasion, when he threw upon her the worst of his charms—he would see something storming within her eyes, twitching between her lips; but she would collect herself almost immediately. Her expression would return to the one she usually graced upon him—haughty condescension. And it irritated him to no bounds.

"Well, well. If it isn't the eavesdropping princess."

Her posture was stiff, "Cut to the chase. What do you want, prince?"

"I know you what you are planning."

"And what," Raven asked, crossing her arms, "do you think that is?"

Her emphasis of the "think" was not lost on him. "You want to find out who killed my father. If only to prove to everyone it is not a Valerian."

Raven's spine stiffened even further, if that were possible. He'd caught her.

"What do you want?" she asked, tightly.

Slowly, he straightened the cuffs of his midnight blue coat. Then he dusted the sleeves. Finally, after an immensely satisfying pause during which he could have sworn the princess had considered slitting his throat at least three times, he replied; "I want us to work together."

Raven blinked. Then blinked again. Then again—her face absolutely expressionless. Just when he'd though that he'd somehow broken her, she responded; "We hate each other."

"We love our countries," he countered. He took a breath. "The King was never going to make peace and let you separate. He already has the war contracts ready. All I have to do is sign them after my coronation. But—," he paused then, wanting to make her salivate over the suspense, "I can also leave your island completely alone if I wanted."

Raven drew a sharp breath. She couldn't help it. Then her blue-grey eyes narrowed. "And why would you do that?"

"It may be hard for you to believe but I, unlike my predecessor, prefer negotiated peace to a waste of time and blood. And in return we will help each other find who killed the King."

"The Crown Prince of Crescentia requiring my help? Well, isn't this a moment in history?" Raven said, her voice slightly mocking.

"I've never shy away from asking help if I require it." He cocked his head to the side, watching her with those fiery eyes of his.

"L-" She shifted her position; a clatter had come from down the hall. She glanced around, sighed, then quickly turned to the prince. "This way," she said, walking toward a room. She pushed open the door and Niklaus was greeted by a warm fire, a four-poster bed of dark ebony and the darkest of blue carpets. The room had bookshelves lining the corner wall, near a great window. The window had a small ledge—which was clearly a reading nook. Underneath the seat was another shelf containing more books. Memories took him to when he'd witnessed her reading those particular titles. Was this her room? He'd been so engrossed in his perusal that he hadn't realised the princess had stopped. He bumped into her, and before she could fall over, he caught her waist.