WHEN GODS SLEEP - DRACO M.

TWELVE.

WHEN GODS SLEEP
Chapter Twelve

The elaborate gardens encompassing the grandiosity that was Malfoy Manor wore a uniform coat of pearl white. Sky a light grey above them, so reminiscing of a pair of eyes she yearned to indulge in. And it was quiet, almost eerily so, her surroundings painted in the monotone shade of an upcoming storm.

          Two women stood by the thick pair of iron-like doors; one, a triumphant smirk plastered across her features like a victory badge; the other, inexpressive, blank, while simultaneously rather serene. It would be the first occasion in many years in which she'd stride down that hallway with no sister as a restraint. If that did not bring about a sensation deeply disconcerting in itself, there was a reminder creeping through the back of her head – and tauntingly on her mother's lips – she would eventually be the lady of this immense estate.

          Narcissa Malfoy herself awaited then at the entrance, her always-polite smile adorning her elegant visage. The clack of the heels softened against the magnificent carpet covering the majority of the stone floor, the three of them so well dressed you'd believe them to have any business but a family dinner.

          Epione felt herself vibrate with anticipation at the sight of the youngest Malfoy up ahead, properly seated at a large grey sofa she'd so often seen in her childhood. Alone, she realized, of course.

         He stood up once they entered, the educated young man he was, and she watched with crippling anxiety as he greeted Rhea Grimaldi with the customary feigned kiss on the cheek, then turned to her, stormy eyes ablaze, and lightly touched his lips against her hand.

         'It's a pleasure to have you both.' His voice was smooth, silk-like, and if his gesture and the reminder of where they had been only two days prior hadn't been enough to rise color to her cheeks, the signature Malfoy seduction had surely done it.

         When Narcissa gestured for them to sit, she found herself in the briefest of predicaments – whether Draco had sensed it or had previously been intent on putting on a show, his fingertips brushed her slightly, tugged slightly, and they sat together. Their mothers, never ending smile, across from them.

         Over a cup of herbal tea, Rhea spoke, 'I see the two of you are well acquainted.' Epione attempted to hide her blush beneath one of the same gold-plated ceramic.

         'I'm most pleased to see the...dynamic has changed since we received your most awful letter.' She continued, exchanging a knowing glance with the pale blond beside her.

         Her mother had told her, warned her, just the day prior, when she'd awaited her daughters at the platform, that things were a bit different since she'd left. She hadn't expected even a semblance of a friendship between these two women, but it wasn't exactly surprising. Rhea had wanted an arranged marriage between the two families since conceiving sweet little Asteria.

         Epione kept her back straight, legs sideways and properly tucked at her ankles; it was with great poise that she, undoubtedly fueled by the presence of such a regal-looking Draco, addressed not her mother, but her mother-to-be. 'I deeply apologize, Mrs. Malfoy. We were taken by surprise; it was indeed improper of us.'

         She didn't know exactly what trick he was trying to play, acting so charming and agreeable, but she wouldn't let him be the sole protagonist. Probably, she liked him a bit too much to consider embarrassing him – and if all it took not to do such was withstand an illusion of affection for a couple of hours, it wasn't half bad.

         Or, at least, it wasn't yet.

         'Please, dear, call me Narcissa,' was the response, in what Epione regarded as quite an authentic sweet tone, 'I'm certain Draco had more of a hand at it than you did. It's beyond us now – but pray, I must ask, did anyone perhaps have your heart?'