Death Eighteen

I glance at the man sitting across and stutter, "S-Studies?"

"Yes, studies," he replies. He grabs a tan cloth sitting on a clear, glass table. He shakes it and places it on his lap. "It has come to my attention that you have much magical ability but have no one to teach you control."

'Putting it lightly. I practically killed The Immortal Lord and gave blood. Oh, Dyu's why did you have to think of blood? Does he feed every night?'

'Ooo, I bet he drinks from golden goblets. Desolation your mind is making assumptions. Does he eat regular food?'

". . . background or education; so what do you think?"

'Rancid rat rectums, I have no idea what he is talking about.'

"O-of course."

The Immortal claps his hands together with a thunderous boom making me jump a hand off my seat. He doesn't notice and simply says, "Then it is settled, we will have our wedding ceremony at midnight tomorrow. How do you feel about the colour moss green?"