Tea Pots and Palace Rumors

Seraphine’s lips tightened as Malik’s hand encircled her wrist, his grip light but unmistakable in its intent. She froze, her gaze dropping briefly to his fingers before rising to meet his eyes. A faint glimmer of amusement flickered in her expression, sharp and bitter like the edge of a knife.

I wondered how quickly you'd dissolve into a threat, she murmured, her tone laced with disdain. I suppose it’s my fault for expecting anything else. You rarely fail to deliver.

Her wrist twitched, and she easily pulled it free, unconsciously rubbing the spot where his touch lingered. She didn’t need to look hard to piece it together

The child, was Lady Tilani’s. Her thoughts hung between them like a drawn blade, slicing through the pretense he tried to weave. You didn’t mention her name, but the theatrics gave you away. And if I recall correctly, the only Magister notorious enough to match your dramatics is them.

She took a step back, crossing her arms as she glared at him. And you thought to drag me into this? Did you forget what I did? Her voice dropped, low and tense. I don’t trust myself around that child. It isn’t safe. Not for her, not for anyone. At least within the Archon’s estate there’d be plenty of chances to be taken down, prevented from harming anyone.

Her refusal was clear, resolute — or at least it would have been, if not for the flicker of guilt in her gaze. She turned on her heel, ready to walk away, but his words caught her, held her in place. Sera exhaled sharply, her annoyance unmistakable. You’re not leaving me a choice, are you? She glanced at him over her shoulder, her dark eyes flashing. You never do.

With a frustrated sigh, she spun back around, her arms dropping to her sides. Fine, I will think on it, she snapped. The venom in her voice did little to mask the discomfort written across her face. She hated being maneuvered like this, hated the way he always seemed to know just the right string to pull. But for now, for Kaczor’s sake, she had no other choice. Always a pawn, never the master of her own destiny.

@Malik Vrai