The Talk

Eydis cracked open an eye, met by unfamiliar intricate wood grains. She groaned, a familiar searing headache accompanying the unwelcome dawn. This time, however, the ceiling wasn't adorned with condescending angels, but a simple, sturdy charm, sunlight streaming through a leaded window and painting the room in warm hues. A brass chandelier, elegant yet unassuming, hung above, casting dancing shadows on the oak-panelled walls. A welcome change from the opulent view she'd grown accustomed to.

The scent of lavender tickled her nose, a calming balm against the gnawing ache in her head. Pushing herself up, she noticed she wasn't alone. Across the room, by the window, stood a figure bathed in golden light. The Master of Silverkeep, his silver hair glinting like spun moonlight, lost in contemplation. As she stirred, his head snapped up, eyes meeting hers with a jolt.

He crossed the room in swift strides, concern etched on his face. Placing a hand on her forehead, his voice etched with concerns, "How are you, Miss Eydis?"

At this proximity, she could see his long silver lashes casting a subtle shadow on his high cheekbones, and light freckles adorning his nose. He was undeniably attractive. 

Hearing her thoughts, he blushed slightly before stepping back to recompose himself. "My apology for the inappropriate contact, Miss Eydis," he coughed.

"No need, Your Grace. I understand." Her voice was barely a whisper, her gaze fixed on the intricate patterns in the rug. "I imagine you have many questions."

"That is not my primary concern, though I admit I have a few. Your well-being, however, is the priority." He chuckled, his voice gentle.

"I'm fine, Your Grace. I appreciate your concerns, and the help from Priest Lange." she spoke with gratitude.

He smiled, genuine warmth reaching his eyes. "Excellent. I'm glad you were only unconscious for three days this time around."

"Your Grace, but 'only' three days?" Eydis raised an eyebrow.

The Duke hesitated, his eyes revealing uncertainty. "Last time, it was a month of recovery. It was fortunate that you survived at all."

Eydis sat up in bed, the Duke's gaze holding hers with silent intensity. They were both enveloped in a charged atmosphere, unspoken questions crackling between them. Finally, she let out a breath, decided to address his burning, unspoken question.

"I dealt with the…imposter," she said, choosing her words carefully. "The one who called himself the dragon handler."

Duke Theomund's brows shot up, surprise flickering across his face. "You were… direct, Miss Eydis."

"There wasn't much choice," she admitted, a wry smile playing on her lips. "I tend to wear my thoughts on my sleeve, if you haven't already gathered."

The Duke chuckled, a low rumble that seemed to ease the tension in the room. "Indeed, your honesty is both refreshing and… challenging."

"Your Grace, this conversation wasn't born from mere impulse." She countered, meeting his gaze steadily. 

He nodded, acknowledging her point. "And I respect your desire for clarity. However, a full discussion can wait. Your well-being takes precedence."

"Let's not mistake my visit as an interrogation, Eydis," the Duke noted, his face returned to its usual unreadable expression.

As he spoke, a rumble, far less dramatic than the previous one, echoed from beneath Eydis's gown. She blushed, catching the Duke's knowing smile.

"Ah, yes," he chuckled, a hint of warmth in his eyes. "It seems breakfast is calling. And perhaps, we could continue this conversation during breakfast." 

**

Eydis had always been a picky eater, her meals generally consisting of simple salads and occasionally seared meats. She wasn't a fan of carbs, in particular, bread. Yet, the smell of butterly bread presented before her was mouth-watering. As Duke Theomund dismissed the servants, leaving them alone in the opulent dining room, she sprinkled a dash of sugar on her butter, the crystals glittering like fairy dust.

Four, maybe five, slices of bread later, adorned with creamy cheese and juicy berries, a satisfied sigh escaped Eydis's lips. Duke Theomund, who'd watched her devour the forbidden carbs with unabashed curiosity, cleared his throat.

"A peculiar sight, a lady embracing black coffee without flinching, Miss Eydis." Duke Theomund spoke with amusement.

Eydis raised her mug, the dark liquid glinting in the sunlit room. "Tea, Your Grace, is a bit…bland."

"Only because you haven't encountered the right one," he countered, a playful glint in his gaze.

She doubted it.

"Oh?" The Duke leaned forward, his voice a low purr. "Are you that confident there's no tea that could win your affections?"

A playful smirk tugged at her lips. "I know I'd take coffee over any special-teas any day, Your Grace," 

The Duke's smirk widened, his amusement tinged with a hint of something deeper. They sparred with words, their banter a playful dance between polite curiosity and light flirtation. But the arrival of dessert, a parade of overly sweet pastries, brought their lighthearted exchange to a reluctant end.

The servants gone, Eydis leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There's something about Quetzal's behaviour that bothers me, Your Grace," she said, her gaze unwavering. "The erratic movements, the way it seemed to… fight against the handler, not play with him."

She paused, swirling a blueberry around her plate, her eyes narrowed in thought. "At first, I thought it was me the dragon wanted to dislodge."

The Duke's face, pale against the dark timber decor, held a flicker of concern. "Why didn't you tell me while I was away? And how did I miss a single thought from you during our journey?" His eyes widened as a realisation dawned. "Nausea, awe, and… pies? That's all I could learn from your mind!"

Moving closer to the Duke, she casually settled on the dining table next to him, her face inching closer in a predatory manner. In this proximity, he could see her eyes glint in mischief, earthy-coloured iris shimmered in a golden hue.

Wait, golden?

Before he could delve into the mystery of her golden eyes, Eydis's voice, husky and close, shattered his focus. "Do you know what I'm feeling right now, Your Grace?"

He fought to clear his head amidst his quickened heartbeat. Her thoughts, once a symphony, were now a muted noise, words tangled and cryptic. What was happening?

Eydis leaned in, her lips inches from his, the warmth of her breath a scorching brand against his skin. Her smile, playful but laced with an unknown tension, sent shivers down his spine. Was it her game, this dance of secrets and veiled emotions? Did she wield his own desire as a weapon, a distraction from the truth she held close?

"It's rather rude to pry out a lady's secret, Your Grace," her voice purred, a velvet brush against his raw nerves. "But I could offer a hint, if you truly wish to hear."

Duke Theomund swallowed, his silver eyes darkened. He could feel the heat rising in his neck, the urge to capture those teasing lips becoming an almost unbearable ache.

"I am simply focusing on the strongest emotions that I have, as a means to disguise my true thoughts, Your Grace," she explained, her voice a silken thread. 

His own thoughts, usually a fortress of logic, were now a chaotic battlefield, her words a weapon that pierced his defences with ease. He recomposed himself with a deep breath, the silver in his eyes hardening into steel, but desires were still lingering in his voice. "Why are you telling me your secret then, Eydis?" 

She tilted her head, a smile playing on her lips, the golden sun of Terravale painting her face in a celestial glow. "I felt like I could trust you, Your Grace," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sigh of the wind through the lavender fields.

The Duke's jaw clenched. Trust, a word that tasted like ash on his tongue, yet a gamble he was willing to take. He had glimpsed the depths of her courage, the steel beneath the silk, and something within him stirred, a mix of admiration and desire.

"I trust you too, Eydis," he said, his voice low and gentle. "But trust is a fragile thing. If you thought the dragon handler was suspicious, why did you allow me to leave the two of you alone, Eydis?"

She smiled, her eyes indecipherable, "I was curious."

"Curious?" Anger flashed across his eyes, "You risked your life out of curiosity?"

"Your Grace, you should know by now that I like to push boundaries," Eydis quipped, well aware that she had been testing the Duke's limits just to see how far she could go.

The Duke's jaw clenched, "Did you not care about your life being on the line?" 

"My life's already on the line due to this peculiar situation, Your Grace," she replied, her tone tinged with sarcasm. 

He stepped closer, the heat of his presence almost tangible. "I can protect you," he murmured, his voice rough with a desperate sincerity. "But only if you allow me."

Her voice softened, "Your Grace, while I do trust you, life is like a chess game with unexpected moves. It's okay to take risks to understand the variables,"

"A risk that could cost you your life, Eydis," the Duke challenged, frustration evident in his voice as he clenched his fist.

"I'm still alive, am I not?" If glares held lethal power, Eydis would have succumbed under the intensity of Duke Theomund's gaze.

The Duke's icy voice retorted, "Alive by sheer luck, Miss Eydis. It was a powerful witch we dealt with—the one who caused mass destruction along with illusions."

"Yes, he seemed strained," Eydis explained, her voice sharp and clear. "That gave me an opening. He focused on the aerial battle, not on an unassuming maid." She recalled the dragon handler's pale face, slick with sweat, his eyes darting around nervously.

"Did you suspect they were mere illusions too?" The Duke's voice softened slightly, curiosity battling with skepticism.

"A logical conclusion, Your Grace," Eydis said, her gaze unwavering. "Dark figures that scattered like dust were no witches. They served as a distraction, perhaps alerting his accomplices."

The Duke raised an eyebrow, a flicker of intrigue dancing in his eyes. "Accomplices? What makes you say that?"

"Our journey was cloaked in secrecy," Eydis replied, her voice a low murmur. "The only one aware of our route was you, Your Grace." She remembered him issuing orders to the dragon handler, his voice low and urgent, and how the knights had followed their lead without question. "The attack felt calculated, designed to draw us out, to signal our location to others."

A tense silence settled, thick with unspoken questions. Finally, the Duke spoke. "To what end, Eydis?"

"I don't have the answers yet," she admitted, the truth a tightrope she walked with practised ease. "But every thread is worth tracing, wouldn't you agree?"

Their conversation concluded, marked by several safety lectures from the Duke and discussions on trust. Alone in her room, Eydis collapsed to her bed, breathing out a sigh of relief, successfully navigating the delicate balance between lies and truth.

While the attacks hinted at being distractions, Eydis concealed the conclusion that the true target wasn't the Duke but herself. She wasn't one to recklessly face danger head-on, yet she acknowledged they hadn't attempted to end her life – not yet. Why extinguish her existence when she possessed more value alive? Perhaps, as Princess Athena had alluded, it was her peculiarity that captivated them—an unknown quality, an anomaly, a puzzle yearning to be deciphered.

Though she held a level of trust in the Duke, his kind, reassuring face often morphed into a mask of cruelty in her constant nightmares. Vivid visions of Silverkeep in flames, and Captain Robin's death, repeated relentlessly. Were these premonitions glimpses into a horrifying future?

This wasn't just about survival anymore. Eydis needed answers, secrets hidden within the Empire's vaults. Her plans, once focused on escape, now needed a drastic, dangerous re-evaluation. She would play their game, dance with shadows and serpents, not just for the sake of those she had grown to care for, but for her own peace.