'ᴡᴇ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ʙᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ.'
Only one month has passed in Daliah Viper's life trying to reintegrate at court and follow the uneasy trails her eyes have caught.
One month filled with blood, tribulations, and l...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The bad feeling continues to creep over my back when I finish my meager breakfast. I was never a particularly strong eater.
Add the fact I have had the most unpleasant company the last month.
Add the stomach illness when I get scared and uncertain. Or disgusted.
I force myself now to chew and swallow.
I need to be strong and healthy to lead. I need food to work. I need food to keep being functional. That is the only reason I slowly move fork and knife today. When I cut an egg Loren hasn't yet gotten to evaporate, the metal scrapes over the porcelain with a heavy shriek.
I promised Ptolemus I wouldn't disappoint.
Dali.
At the memory something heavy accompanies the food sliding down my throat. The dogs at my feet are still hiding and hoping for scraps. Hadrien is already finished and moves somewhere through the house.
One Ear whines low. Runt has coiled together at my feet, but she growls, silvery fur bristling a second. I reach down and pat each of them again reassuring, I hear a tail hitting wood with some wagging force. At least One Ear lets himself be assured. Runt stays a little less friendly at my side, ears pulled back and nose flicking up and down.
It's my own uneasiness transcribing to the animals.
The emotional rawness makes me angry and irritated. I want to lash out at the world as always. But with even more force than usual.
I try to ignore it. Heels clicking, spiders with thin brown legs sitting over my brow, I leave Viper mansion with the dogs, Loren and Hector in tow.
While we walk over the steps to Whitefire, Hector keeps a little in the back after briefing me. I throw down a few looks as we take stairs made of bright stone, but this man has proven at least to be loyal to chains of commands. And besides, Loren is paranoid and twitchy for both of us towards him. If I were Loren, I wouldn't trust anyone too. It is still funny how he hides behind me now, like some child to be protected, after treating me with no respect all my life.
Runt growls again low, chaps drawn back. Her slim body is pressed to my side by now. Her grey sprinkled, sharp cut ears lie flat on her head when she keeps the moving bodies around us in her sight and smell.
Loren chooses a very inappropriate moment to lean over.
"I never got to report," he whispers, and his closeness, especially in my raging state of pain and annoyance, makes my mood even worse. "On the day when you spread in the tunnels, you send me to set someone on-"
