Oh, no, you don’t.I push it down in aggravation. She’s a nought. Enemy number one. Seems like a mere minor detail to my pumping blood.
Oh, this isbad.This is even worse than if she’d been old or ugly. I need to get laid. How long has it been now…since…that’s evidence enough that it’s been far too long.
But definitely not with the nought. Besides, I don’t even know how old she is. I peer back up to discern that. She has one of those faces that could easily be anywhere between the ages of fifteen and twenty. Seeing as the noughts seem to be stuck in the sixteenth century she likelyisfifteen.Gross.
The nought glances up in the mirror, noticing me watching her like a…total creep, my hand still clasping whatever they called this contraption that had been locked around her head. I drop it hastily as she whips around and freezes.
Blushing the most dramatic blush in the history of blushes, she dips her head. Her hair falls down to curtain her cheeks. She’s maybe even more pleasing to look at face to face. I should probably saysomething. I clear my throat. “Have you been wearing that for a long time?”
“Tw-twelve years,” she stammers.
“That’s the first time it’s been removed intwelve years?” She nods, head still tipped to the floor. “Well, how does it feel?” I ask lamely.
Her fingers trace over her unencumbered face. “Lighter…naked.” She glances up and then back down with another vibrant blush.
“Right.” Sensing her discomfort at being looked upon, I busy myself with removing my boots. The room spins as I pull myself to my feet. I really overdid it tonight. Definitely going to regret that tomorrow. I turn my back to her to shrug off my shirt and pants, teetering slightly as I swipe them from the floor to put them on the nightstand. I find her head still bowed, hands twisting in front of her so nervously it’s makingmea little nervous.
“I…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
My jaw falls slack. First, I was watching her like a total creep, and then I immediately started stripping. She thinks I’m going to…this is probably what the whole removing of the strange veil is all about. My face twists in disgust. “I don’t want you, nought,” I say, partly to curtail her concerns and partly to remind myself that she’s anought.
“I have absolutely no interest in you. None,” I tack on for good measure, slashing a hand through the air. I peel back the covers to slip into the bed. I expect to find relief painting her face. Instead, her features are scrunched into a deep scowl.
I have offended her. Surely, she didn’t want…no, she doesn’t want that, but she doesn’t like that I don’t either. For some reason, that compels me to do something I feel like I haven’t done in ages--laugh. I bite at the inside of my lip to quell it. If she thinks I’m going to change my tune just because she’s cute and just so happens to have breasts--I squint—probably somewhere under that thing, well, she’swrong.
She continues to just…stand there. Maybe she doesn’t believe me? I loose a sigh. “Get some sleep, nought.” I motion toward the other side of the bed. “I’m not going to touch you. Swear it by the Gods or whatever weird shit it is that you believe in.”
She makes a wide arc around the tent, keeping as much distance between the two of us as physically possible. I fight down another laugh. Once there, she turns into a statue again. She glances up and I quirk a brow in question.
“Could you?”
Right. I flip to my side with a grunt, listening to the sounds of her shuffling out of her gown, imagination wandering to what she might look like underneath it again...stop that.Her weight shifts the bed, and I flick my hand to dim the lights. She jolts so hard that the bed shakes. “That was me,” I mutter. Despite my weariness, sleep doesn’t find me. My mind churns as I consider my options. Maybe I could just get up and quietly leave without her. Based on the quick pace of her breaths, she’s not asleep either.
And what will happen to her if I leave? Will her father take her back home? That’s what she would prefer, isn’t it?
Considering his general attitude toward her and the chains they had quite literally locked around her head, I’m not sure that’s the case.
It's not my problem.
I can’t take her back to Samore. What would I even do with her? Morin is out of her mind with this alliance. I’ll figure something out in the morning. Talk to her father…or something.
It’s the sound ofshuffling outside the tent that stirs me awake. Early morning light seeps in through the dark fabric. I stiffen, remembering the predicament I’ve been put in. Taking care not to make much movement, I twist my head back to see if she’s still here.
Shit.
Still here.
But she’sasleep.
This is it. My chance. Morin can’t force me to bring her with me. Carefully untangling myself from the bed, I tug my clothes off the dresser, shuffle them on in a hurry, before swiping my boots off the floor. My vision blurs, alcohol from last night still very much not made its way out of my system. My fingers fumble my boots and one slips, hitting the floor with a thunderous thud.
Fuck.
The nought stirs with a groan. No, no-no-no. Go back to sleep. She sits up in the bed, blinking and rubbing her eyes looking even more ridiculously innocent in her sleepy state. Blinking at me some more, as she eyes the one boot still in my hand. Caught red-handed.
Her face suddenly colors and she reaches up to run her hands over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead as if she can’t believe they’re bare of chains.
My fingers trace the back of my neck with indecision. If I don’t take her will Morin see fit to bring her along with the Masks? And then there’s no telling what will happen to her. I mash a knuckle into my cheek. Agh.
