66 All the Colors of Darkness (1/2)

Next to her Esti made nervous conversation with the Prince, her words vocalized through a servant. The girl attempted, every few moments to snatch his attention away from her father and brother who would otherwise monopolize the conversation with talk of the politics of their two lands. Usoa wished she would let them speak. It would be a nice break from the game that stretched into it's second hour.

The canopy above them kept out the worst of the sun and servants with large fans kept the air flowing and cool around them. Her father sat in the center in his large chair flanked by her older brother and the Prince. Next to the Prince sat Esti with the servant who translated for her at her feat. Behind Usoa, Ochoa sat and every few minutes the sounds of muffled giggling would pass to her ears as he flirted with some daughter from a minor house. At least someone is having a good time, she thought to herself, grouchy and already hungry. She sipped on fruit juices supplied by a servant throughout the game. In front of the Prince sat Lloren.

He wore a lighter robe, still black but in thinner material more suited for the heat of the desert. He had braided his dark hair and she could see his profile clearly from her vantage point. His eyes were focused on the game, his expression relaxed. She forced herself to turn her attention away from him to the same place his eyes rested.

In the field before her, the hard packed ground that some earth-wielder had moved for them years and years before, two teams fought over a ball. There were goal posts at either end and between them, men wearing color coded skirts ran back and forth in a show of power and skill. The light-wielders among them using their own powers to create doubles and illusions. It would last until the late afternoon, ending around the evening tea so that they all could prepare for dinner.

The game annoyed her more than usual as she found, upon arrival, that she had to at least pretend to pay some attention as Ferren, it seemed, had been drafted into playing. To play before a visiting dignitary was a great honor, Usoa was not surprised to see that he had volunteered. He cut an attractive figure on the field, his skin, pulled tight over well formed muscles, gleaming in the sun.She was sure that he would notice, somehow, that she was not paying attention.

So she watched as he ran and pushed players while twisting the light to his needs. Not as strong as some of the men he shared the field with but he showed promise, from what she knew of the game.

Still, she wished that she could speak with the Prince and her father about Dark lands. She wanted to know, even as she feared her departure. Her curiosity twisted and scratched at her making her lean to listen at every question and comment she heard which meant that she caught more than her fair share of awkward conversation starters that had fizzled out quickly.

She glanced behind her at Ochoa who leaned towards a pretty girl wearing a bright green dress that showed off her dark skin and long limbs. Her brother winked at her before turning his head back to the girl. Usoa rolled her eyes and growled, crossing her arms over her chest wishing she had some form of entertainment.

The air moved strangely over her fingers as she swept them from her lap and she rubbed the tips together, a velvety feeling between them like the hide of a horse. She focused on them more, keeping her movements small and found the air shifted subtly around her fingers, she could feel a brush of something around her ankles, under her skirts.

Dark, the word came to her slowly as did the shape of it, long, thin tendrils that slid gently over her skin, wrapping itself around her arm. She looked up again, caught by the sound of her sister's translators speaking to catch the green eyes of Prince Guifre, locked on her, his lips slightly down turned.

Him, she wondered for a moment before dismissing it. The gaze was right but the feeling felt like the touch that had reached for her in the darkness of the court. She turned, his profile just the same as it had been, his eyes locked on the game ahead of him but the touch of darkness, his darkness, still played on her skin, bolder now that she had noticed it.

Her heart pounded and she stood suddenly. Guifre's eyes followed her, his frown shifting, his lips opening as if he meant to ask something. Esti turned her features twisted.

”Yes, daughter?” her father asked, his disapproval clear in his tone. ”Is there something wrong?”

She forced a smile. No, father, my apologies. I am overheated and need some air, she explained quickly. A lie, a poor one, but she couldn't think of anything better. Before anyone could ask, let alone stop her, she turned, sweeping out from the canopy.

She moved quickly across the grounds, the touch of darkness brushing against her until she turned back into the palace. What, her thoughts began but dropped before forming a full idea leaving only the gentle pounding of her heart and flutter in her belly.

She slipped deeper into the halls, walking aimlessly until she reached a small garden. She sighed and sat on the edge of the fountain. She brushed her fingers along the water, just wetting the tips, as she took deep breaths, forcing herself to calm, to regain her composure.

My mother will be so upset with me. The Prince was staring at me, everyone would have noticed but Lloren, she paused in her rambling thoughts and brushed her fingers over her wrists where he had touched, that feather-light feeling still along her skin and she shivered. She turned back to the pool.

”Why am I so confused? All of this is wrong! That dark-wielder will get me into nothing but trouble! I need to end his teasing. If I just stop reacting, I'll tell him plainly that I don't want his attention,” she nodded to her reflection her course set.

A fish, black as night jumped from the water. The sun caught its scales and they sparkled gold for a moment until it splashed back into the water and changed into a creature she had never seen with many arms and a fat body. This spun and popped, disappearing into inky bubbles.

She turned to find Lloren leaning against the entrance, a smile on his face.

Her mouth opened before clapping shut, it would do no good.

He stepped out of the shadow of the entrance way and walked slowly towards her. The shadows, dark now that they were alone, rolled forward as if hungry and spiraled around her ankles, reaching for her fingers and wrists.

”No one seemed to care or notice when I took my leave although your father seemed quite upset over yours,” he chuckled as he settled on the edge of the fountain across from her.

She puffed out her cheeks, a pout on her lips that she had meant to be more a frown and held up her empty hands. She had no way to communicate with him.

He smiled and glanced away quickly. ”Speak slowly. I understand the signs but my grasp is not as fluent as,” he stopped turning back to her. ”It is just not fluent.”

Is he blushing, she thought as frowning at the slight color in his cheeks. No member of the court is to leave before the highest member present. It was rude of me to go like that, she explained.

”Will your father punish you?” he asked softly, his fingers dancing over the pool, small, dark fish appearing under his fingers.

She blew out a breath. Yes, but it will not be much. A night in my rooms, perhaps an afternoon working as the servants, she replied.