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Holy Light, Lover's Night: Chapter 2

As the Marchioness made her way across the courtyard Shadür began to feel like a fish freshly pulled from the sea. Her eyes were like sapphires, her hair like smooth brown silk, and a figure that made any room she was in ten degrees warmer.

“Be on your guard,” Shaldür grumbled, watching the crowd part before the Marchioness like a ship slicing through choppy waters. The gnome shot Shaldür a puzzled look and he continued, “We have… a history.”

Teacher smiled slyly. “Oh?”

Shaldür grimaced. “Not a good history.”

“Oh,” the gnome said looking up at the Marchioness as she came to a stop before them.

“Well, well, well…,” she purred, making no bones about the way she eyed the half-orc up and down. “I had heard that you were going to grace the court with your presence soon, but I did not expect you would actually have the nerve to show.”

Shaldür half-bowed at her. “My Lady Diviltúe.” The air went still as the two of them played at war, each daring the other to make the first strike with nothing but their eyes. It was several seconds before Teacher coughed politely, causing the two to blink and remember they were in the middle of a crowded courtyard.

Teacher extended a hand, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Marchioness, I am-”

“Yes, yes, you are the historian,” the Marchioness responded, shifting her gaze back to Shaldür, ignoring the gnome’s small hand. Teacher stayed that way for several more moments, dumbfounded at the distasteful tone she had used before shifting her pack and turning slightly to hide the sudden shade of pink her face had become.

“Well, my Lady,” Shadlür responded, his tone indicating that he thought her nothing of the sort. “If you’ll excuse us, we must be off. Urgent business to attend.”

“But of course,” the Marchioness said putting a hand to her chest to emphasize the sarcastic undertones of her statement. “Please, do not let me keep you from anything important, no doubt I will see you before the court shortly to give your… Report.”

Shaldür muttered a good day to her and turned, his armor jangling slightly as he began to march away, Teacher keeping in step behind him with her head towards the ground. They were less than a dozen paces away before the Marchioness called out to them.

“Oh dear me, I almost forgot. You’re looking for my husband, correct?”

The two stopped, turning back to her as she waved a hand and began walking in the opposite direction.

“I wish you both good luck!” she called. “He hasn’t been seen in four days.”

The Lost Tower

Past The Gate