The Prince of Ilios

Twenty-Six

Nicola turned to Ellora, "What are you doing here?"

She was completely floored. She looked him up and down in wonder. His golden vest glimmered in the dim light, he had clearly been about to get ready for bed. His cravat was only half tied around his neck, and his shoes were unbuckled, but not yet shed. She regained her composure, "Why would you do that?"

He shook his head in wonder, "My questions first!"

A guard in the hall coughed loudly, to let them know that they were being too loud. Nicola grabbed her arm and pulled her into his room. He closed the door behind her.

"What are you doing?" She glanced around nervously, brushing his hand away once they were in his room. The whole room had the same glow as the rest of the Palace. Everything solid was white, everything fabric was gold trimmed with gold fringe. Across the way were a pair of bookshelves, lined with volumes of books, every shape and size. Her eyes crossed over a painting. It was a beautiful landscape that captured the way the sun hit the clouds just as it was beginning to set. The oil perfectly capturing the golden glow that coated the fluffy cotton clouds and wisps in the sky.

Nicola cleared his throat, recalling her attention in a snap. His eyes stared into her, as though they could see right through her. They were calculating and curious.

He waved off her question, "My questions first, what are you doing in this wing of the Palace." He was preparing to mount an attack to her answer of wanting to see him.

Her eyes shot around the ornate room, unsure of what she was doing here, "I... I was coming to see my brother. He is in this wing. Please, I haven't gotten to see him and we need to talk." She needed to get out of his room before someone got the wrong idea.

He walked harmlessly passed her, leaning against his bookshelf. He flipped through the pages of a blue book. Trying to hide his dismay. The cover was particularly worn. It must have been important to him, "Candidates are not supposed to come to this wing because it is improper. It means that you have won my favor and I want to spend more time getting to know you." His last words were full of inuendo as the book clopped shut. He eyed her without raising his head, watching for her reaction. Hoping to get under her skin and irritate her just like she had done to him.

Ellora let out a chuff, "Yeah, right."

"It is lucky for you that I even happened to walk out into the hall when Mrs. Brooks was berating you. And you haven't even thanked me." He suddenly came toward her. His eyes had a dangerous glint in them.

"What are you doing?" She backed away until she was against his door.

He was mere inches from her, staring down at her. His arms caged her to the door. Nicola was so close that she could feel his breath, but they were not touching. Her heart leapt into her throat and beat in her ears, unsure of what to do. Doesn't anyone here know about personal space?

He leaned in. She turned her head away, not wanting to kiss him. Then she heard his low breathy chuckle, "Boo." He whispered right next to her ear. So close that his breath sent a chill down her spine. He backed off immediately, "Get out."

Ellora glared at him. Her temperature rising, it's only because I am angry, she tried to convince herself as the blood rushed to her cheeks. Her fists clenched. She focused in on the teapot that was left out on his table. She brought it up. The whole thing came pouring down over his head, "You are the worst! Like I would ever thank you!" She turned to leave.

Ellora could hear him growl his disapproval behind her, but she didn't care. She had to figure out which room her brother was in. She paced back and forth in the hall cursing her situation. Wanting to find her brother, but not wanting to ask Nicola where he was. The guard had gone.

A door opened to the right of Nicola's door, "Loraby?"

Ellora pounced a giant hug onto her brother, "Alyn, I finally found you!"

He rubbed his eyes, he must have been sleeping. Leading her into his room, "Get in here before anyone sees you."

Too late.

"I have been meaning to talk with you." Ellora paced the room. She had to keep notice of her feet, lest the soft red rug trip her. Apparently, the encounter with the Prince had shaken her up a bit more than she was willing to admit.

"Have you gotten to talk to the Prince or the King yet?" Alyn asked.

"Not the King, but sort of Nicola. We don't see eye to eye on very many things." Even that was an understatement in her mind, "They do not seem open to negotiation."

"Well, we have to keep trying." Alyn sat on his bed, "The King keeps avoiding me, and they don't let me do hardly anything. Tomorrow I am going to go back to the marketplace and see what the people think of their King. I have made a few friends in the kitchens, but it is not helpful to you. And I have not been invited to meet any of the dignitaries. This is the worst." His head fell into his hands. He felt completely helpless, a new feeling that he never wanted to revisit.

"You are the head of the Southern Isles. I am sure that you will find your way into those parties and meetings, just as you found your way into Father's council meetings when you were younger." She giggled at the memory of how her brother would disguise himself in order to sneak into the meetings, always wanting to be near their father.

"I have made a few friends. My room mates are from Flora and Sana. They both seem very knowledgeable, and could be great allies. The others I am not sure about. All of them seem completely taken in by Nicola."

"The Prince." Alyn looked up at her, his hands clasped under his chin in thought, "He seems nice enough." He had only had a few exchanges with Nicola, all of them promoting a mutual understanding.

"He's infuriating, pompous, arrogant, and least of all irritating."

Alyn raised a brow. He had never seen Ellora this worked up, "Well, no matter what you think about him. We are not here for him. We are here for our people. So keep your head cool. We need an opening to negotiate and when we find it, we need to be at the top of our game." He said grimly. His eyes focused on something far in the distance.

Ellora nodded.

A slight knock came from the door.

Her eyes flashed wide. She hid around the corner as Alyn partially opened the door. She could barely hear the conversation, but when Alyn came back, Nicola was with him.

"I'll send you back to your room now." Nicola, now dry, glanced around as though he did not care, but then his eyes locked with hers, "We would hate for Mrs. Brooks to find you again. It is improper for a young lady to walk around at night alone."

Alyn nodded his approval at the idea when she turned to him for help. She grimaced, "Very well."

Nicola offered his arm.

Now it was Alyn's turn to grimace. The Mainland was full of unusual customs. They were too close for his taste, but he could not argue with the Prince now if he wanted to have a chance to negotiate later. Instead he showed them out of his room.

Ellora ignored his arm and lead the way down the hall. She walked silently, unsure of what to say. She stopped mid-step, "Thank you." She whispered.

"Pardon? I didn't quite here you." He walked jauntily with his hands behind his back, swerving in the hall, a goofy grin spread across his face.

She rolled her eyes at him, "For helping me with Mrs. Brooks. And for letting me see my brother." Ellora looked down at her hands sheepishly, her nervous habit of twisting her fingers showing.

He stood to his full height looking down at her, "What is this? Miss Ellora of the Southern Isles is finally playing nice?"

She appreciated that he had the delicacy to call her "Miss" instead of "Lady" like everyone else in the Palace. With a half smile on her face, she swerved around him and they continued walking, "Don't get used to it."

He smiled to himself, "Wouldn't dream of it." He was almost happy enough with her reply to forgive the drenching that he had received, almost.