66 All the Colors of Darkness (2/2)

”A night in your room, that seems like a punishment for children,” he moved his fingers over the fish he had created and their dark colored shimmered to gold.

She gasped, the half insult left unchecked. How did you do that, she asked excitedly. The dark-wielders constructs were sturdier, solid magics but they were formed of shadow and stayed that way. The colored fish were an impossibility.

He smiled, pleased that she was pleased. ”You can find all colors in the darkness. You just have to be careful in separating them. As I'm sure with enough work, there must be someone in your land who can make your illusions real.”

She had never heard of such a thing, not like this. Some light-wielders could make threads or platforms, her father for instance but not a something like the fish that could be touched, handled. She stared at the fish, fascinated with gold scales that should not be.

”You like this?” he asked softly, creating more adding new colors.

She nodded his head and he rewarded her with a soft smile. Her joy emboldened his darkness which crept up her thigh and wrapped around her hips.

”Your dress is very beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes still on the pond, his fingers just touching the water as his darkness searched along her arms and up her body. She sat still, letting them explore, a warm feeling traveling through her body at their touch.

”It is much better than the last one, the color, even when you are still is wondrous against your skin,” he his voice made her shiver more than the touch that had found its way to her neck, wrapping lazily around her, reaching for her face.

Does he mean to swallow me, she wondered lazily, her mind abuzz as if she had drunk too much wine. Something thumped in her chest, near her heart but not quite and he gasped suddenly, turning back to her.

The fish faltered, sunk back to black and the threads of shadow uncoiled as he pulled them back to himself, all at once.

Usoa took a shuddering breath and came back to herself, heat rising to her checks at the liberties she had allowed the shadow-wielder to take against her skin. What, she asked slowly, was that?

He touched is face, his mouth slightly open and a look a little like awe in his eyes as if he had just seen her, really seen her, for the first time. ”I can taste what you are,” he finally spoke, his words slow and deliberate, ”in the air. Is it not the same for you?”

She moved to shake her head and stopped. In the Veil I can feel you, your energy is different, she explained, guilty as if she had been keeping some grand secret.

He frowned. ”This is nothing,” he announced. ”An infatuation of our power.”

An infatuation, she thought for a moment before she smiled. His words made sense, there was no other reason why she had been so befuddled by the strange man. She nodded eagerly, agreeing with him, the weight lifted off her consciousness. So whatever I feel for Ferren is just confused by this, she determined to herself.

She looked back at Lloren. The sun caught his gray eyes, turning them to glass. It tripped down his face and she was again struck with how young the man appeared. His lips twisted into a frown, his brows knit together. He is handsome, Porras would like him very much, she mused.

”I've scared you,” he said suddenly, turning back to her. ”I've been strange. Forgive me, it's the shadow, it's making me think things that aren't there to think.”

She laughed, he sounded so formal now. It's alright, she signed before pausing. Wait, since we're alone, can you tell me about the Dark Lands?

He lifted a brow, the corner of his mouth following suit. ”What is there to tell? There are trees and water. Things grow there, not like this blasted desert.”

Her brow wrinkled in anger. Things grow here! Flowers that you could never imagine! And we have crops and trees too!

He laughed, a full deep sound, ”I'm teasing! Don't be so upset. Truthfully I don't know what to tell you about where you are going except that it is different. The very air of it is different.”

She moved to ask another question, to find out what was so different when the sound of someone clearing their throat reached her ears. She turned to see a servant standing in the entrance way.

”Pardon me, your highness,” he began, ”But your father has requested you return to the field. Immediately.”

She nodded. He wouldn't punish me in front of everyone would he, she thought. She had never done something so drastic to earn her father's upset.

Lloren stood, still facing the fountain. ”Relax, it will be fine,” he said in a low voice. In a breath of shadow he disappeared leaving her to walk back with the servant alone.

It doesn't matter, she thought to herself as she crossed the courtyard to the man and together they began the journey back. By evening tea they'll all be speaking about us. But, she paused, turning back to the fountain once more. How did he find me?

The question burning in her mind, she rushed after the servant, ready to meet whatever fate her father had prepared for her.