Lovely Dark Things

THREE (RUBY POV)

Dark elves not always dress in black although it's true that we have some favourite colour combinations: lot of courtiers choose dark blue and silver copying Baalberith banner, the queen likes soft shades of pink and aqua green because her flawless skin stands out, low level priestesses dress in white and those who have reached the honour of being called 'brides of the God of War' pick out blood red, the king's clothes are always embroidered in gold and assassins prefer grey because it lets us blend in with our surroundings and turn into shadows. But it's true that, since our armours are made of black steel and the Black Guard is feared all over the world, humans tend to associate that colour with us. After half an hour taking clothes from my trunks and tossing them on the bed to discard them, I've decided to give up and stick to the cliché since that's what Iselen is expecting from me, most likely. I'm going to give her what she wants... for now.

My eyes check my reflection in the mirror from head to toe, luckily the sun is going down and temperature is bearable at this time of the evening so my ankle boots, pants and black linen shirt will be enough for me to feel comfortable. I lean forward in order to get a closer look of my face, sliding my fingertips through my cheekbones and lips, following my chiselled jawline tills grazing my pointy ears, I fix a lock of hair over my forehead and frown, remembering... She liked the colourful designs on my hand and maybe I could use her curiosity as an advantage. I decide to roll up my sleeves and unbutton my shirt a bit, exposing more amount of white skin than I'm used to show and ruining the fall of the garment but I don't care, it's too hot for me outside and I'm feeling better this way. I weight in my mind if I should hide my weapons, the handle of a knife pokes out my waistband on my hip and the stiletto hidden under my sleeve stands out against the tattoos of my forearm but I decide not to do it, they're elements of the cliché too and will draw her attention... if she doesn't die of fright before.

I nod approvingly at my reflection and move a step in order to look through the window, waiting... it won't take long, I think, I'm pretty sure she can't wait to spend some time in her sanctuary after so many hours cooped up with those stupid members of the Council and the cranky wizard. A movement near a tree is my signal to take a book from my nightstand, leave my bedroom and go downstairs, walking through the kitchen door heading to the backyard. I get closer to the fence on tiptoes and slide back the lock before stepping back, listening carefully... I think I can hear her humming a song. I resort to my knowledge on magic so I can throw a pulse of energy that pushes the door violently like a gust of wind would do, the wood bounces against the frame and the door opens. Iselen is standing in the middle of her garden, holding a basket and staring at me shocked although I pretend to be busy reading my book while moving a couple of steps lost in my thought before looking up.

"Oh, hello there..." My tone of voice is totally neutral and my smile is kind, without any hint of mischievousness. I need her to believe that this is a random encounter. Iselen seems to have lost her speech and stares at me with her eyes wide open, scared. I guess this is a normal reaction, finding an armed dark elf wandering around your backyard is a bad sign after all... I remain still, waiting patiently for her to relax and remember that I'm here to make business and not to bath in Ingstad citizens' blood.

"Good evening... madam..." The girl bends her knees in some sort of shy curtsy and bites her lower lip, hesitating. "I'm sorry, I don't know if madam is the right way to address you..." A genuine smile spreads across my face, I like well-mannered women.

"Dread Lady..." I whisper and she holds her basket tighter.

"Good evening, Dread Lady..." she repeats and this time she bows her head respectfully. This is a good sign: being polite with your superiors and complying with the Court etiquette is the way to survive in my kingdom later.

"Good evening..." Now it's my turn to hesitate, calling her madam or adviser doesn't seem right...

"My name's Iselen," she answers quickly before stuttering. "Just Iselen... I don't... have a title or anything..." The eyes of the brunette girl get caught by the tattoos on my arms and hand for a second before averting them politely. "I'll leave you with your book..."