Over Here...

The male pushed open the heavy wooden door ornamented with golden and platinum details, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Fear made its way to every limb, every nerve in my body, and I couldn't stop myself from helplessly trembling on my feet.

With a stern gaze, he beckoned for me to enter. Knowing I had no other choice, I straightened my back and stepped into the king's chambers. The door was immediately shut behind me and it dawned on me that the male was leaving me here alone.

Alone with…

I sucked in a shaky breath and surveyed the expansive room, in which I found no sign of His Majesty.

Thank God.

The ceiling soared high and large windows covered a majority of the wall straight ahead of me. Fine metals adorned the walls beautifully and simplistically, and the furniture, I realized, was much finer than what I had viewed in the rest of the palace. The bed, in specific, was unlike anything I have ever seen before; detailed, sharp-edged carvings drifted across the low-sitting frame. Exotic wooden planks and thick woolen rugs coated the floor, and the gold that seemed to be woven into everything glittered in the light. I felt nearly at peace for several moments because of the awe the beauty of the ensemble struck in me.

"Hello?" an accented male voice resounded calmly, snapping me immediately out of my own mind. Panicking, I spun around on my heels, expecting him to be behind me, except I confusedly found nothing.

"Over here." I could hear him smiling, already amused by my human stupidity. I turned back around to see the source of the voice leaning against the wall ahead of me, next to the window.

He was tall, much taller than me, even though I was not considered short for a woman. He was dressed elegantly in tight white pants, laced knee-high chocolate leather boots, and a pearly silk shirt and brown waistcoat. A mahogany double-breasted woolen coat embroidered with gold thread along the seams and edges draped across his shoulders. My eyes slowly crawled up his form to the gentle, rare waves of honey that cascaded down his shoulders. His locks of hair were like rays of sun bespeckled with clear diamonds, and simply the sight of it awe-struck me senseless. I could barely bear to look at his face, the face that shone so brightly and beckoned me, tempted me, into all I desperately desired.

The king's pale, thin face was sharp and striking with high cheekbones and a narrow jaw. Dark, long lashes framed large, upturned eyes of pure ice, leading down a straight nose and bare face.

He was beautiful but unsettling all at once.

The king smiled at me cruelly, chilling my blood. I immediately dipped into a bow, realizing that the individual in front of me was, after all, the King of Elves.

"Do you have a name, Miss Attendant?" he said abruptly, closing the gap between us with strides of his long legs. My face flushed, I stood up straight again and forced myself to look him in the eyes.

"Syndra Elwood." I attempted to utter confidently. The king motioned with his hands for me to go on.

Flustered, I stammered, "Y-your Majesty."

"Alright. Jack Pyre." Jack outstretched his hand to me, glaring from under bold eyebrows. I instinctively met it and we shook hands; the feel of his fingers on mine was hot and dry, almost feverish. He dropped his hand to his side, the other in his pocket, all while I still felt stiff and frozen in my place.

It was already all feeling like a dream, a bad one at that. What was I doing, leaving the comfort of my family's quaint cottage, leaving the comfort of my father, my mother, my brother? Why must they rely on me?

But I knew well deep down that I had to do this. There was no choice for me; If I wanted to see my family happy and well-fed, then I had to take initiative. My mother is sick, my father too old, and my brother too young, thus I am the most competent in the household.

In panic I realized I knew nothing of what I was required to do as an attendant. What does that even mean? How do I attend to a Faerie King when I myself am just an ignorant human girl? The brutal anxiety I was feeling previously began to return in tumultuous waves that crashed over my chest, constricting my breathing.

"What can I do for you, your majesty?" I blurted, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I was not instructed… I- Your Maj-"

"First of all, cut the "Your Majesty" and address me by my first name. Second, you'll learn with time." The ice in his eyes glimmered, his face stoic and unreadable. "And calm down, I'm not dangerous." Jack paused as if in thought, "Well not to you at least."

I sincerely doubt that, I thought as I remembered what Kat had told me about the previous girl. Despite my terror, my curiosity was winning this battle.

"What happened to the last attendant?" I said, then instantly regretted my impulsive directness.

"Well look at you, so assertive." Jack's eyes were still boring into me as he started, "She killed herself. Don't ask me why, I do not know. However, I am fairly certain it is not me who drove her to her suicide."

He wandered off back to the window, staring at the baby blue sky of morning. The stretches of city and blooms of vibrant greenery below were framed like a perfect picture by towering peaks, each capped with snow. I wondered how he felt, as King. How he felt that all of this was his, was all because of him. The rotten arrogance and pride that was eating at his empty soul, the bitter, cold soul of his kind.

I will admit, I am prejudiced against them, the pinnacle of the Fae. But what human is not? When they have killed and tortured and played with humanity as if we were helpless prey in their grasps, when they go to any possible length for power and pleasure, it is impossible not to hold a bloody grudge. Especially the king, the one behind all of the death.

The power he wields is beyond all else in this realm of nihil. He is a god, undoubtedly, by human definition. Now, do you understand my fear?

I am helpless, and I must swallow my pitiful pride like I was taught all my life.

I could feel him, as Jack turned his head to set his eyes on me. Primal, immoral, predatorial; I could feel him.