To Bewitch a Devil

Zavian took one of Freya’s graying hands in his and kissed it. He rose, and when he stepped out, Neera followed after him.

“Zavian,” she called, and he turned, his face wearing the same blankness it had since the day before.

They had ended up leaving the cabin at the first signs of dawn, and their friendly neighbors the evening before had seen them, and thanked them, and hoping to see them around some time soon. But Neera felt that whatever magic had existed in the confines of those cabin walls had evaporated, and it was caused by her.

“Neera,” Zavian answered, his tone the formal kind saved for meetings.

“Can we talk?”

“I have to see that my sister is taken care of, and I have that council meeting in two days that I have to prepare for.”

Neera nodded. The answer had been there, he didn’t want to speak to her yet.

“I’ll be in the meeting...”

.....

But Zavian was already shaking his head before she finished her statement. “No, I will handle it on my own. Today, stay with Freya and let me know if there are any developments, and you’ve got Pen to keep you company as well.”

Again, Neera could read between the words. “Zavian, I trust you, and you know it. I would never keep secrets between Pen and I and leave you out of it.”

“Is that what’s been going on with you? A secret?”

“It’s not what you think it is,” Neera said. She wanted to run to him and hold him, willing the Zavian that had been with her the day before to come back to her– playful, free, full of laughs.

But Neera didn’t move, and on Zavian’s face, a ghost of an expression she couldn’t read appeared, but vanished just as fast as it came.

“I have to go,” he said.

Neera watched him walk away, and she did nothing. She knew she was being selfish, and knew she should say something to him, tell him of the way guilt had her tongue anchored and her mind caged.

But Zavian was her ballast, and she clung to him in the confusion of her identity, and of all the times they had missed out on. She would tell him soon, but for now, she would take what he gives.

....

Azriel walked into the meeting, and every eye turned to him. To him, every Duke in the room seemed to have put on some weight, and he could almost smile at the situation of things that would happen after Zavian’s first announcement in the meeting. It was a dark thought, but the fear ought to keep them up and about and back in shape.

It was only the Duke of Selesee, the late Queen Jasmine’s father, who hadn’t changed for the plumper look that the others had made their fashion. His face was sallow, his eyes sucked in by their sockets, and with lids that looked like heavy curtains he had to lift with every dead blink.

Azriel made way to stand by Zavian’s side, hands behind his back, eyes scanning the room and its occupants. His men were already in position at far-off corners in the hall.

“The Queen didn’t join us today,” the Duke of Grenao, Kitana’s father, said, his lips downturned. “It’s a pity. She’s been quite a noticable addition lately since she had personally deemed her opinions good enough to be at this table.”

Zavian leaned back, and Azriel was the one who stepped forward, keeping his hands right where his knives were, and the Duke shrunk back in his seat at the warning.

“I haven’t mentioned this before,” Zavian said. “Mainly because I had investigations underway. But my sister was attacked,” the murmurs erupted at that point, but Zavian pressed on. “She was badly wounded, and now, I am issuing an official warning that something or someone attacked her, so you should be careful.”

“But why are you telling us now?” Frederick asked. “We could have been prepared long ago!”

“Are they soul eaters?” Basil, the Duke of Taos, asked, sitting up in a panic.

“No,” Zavian answered, one of the only calm ones in the room, apart from Azriel. “And has there been any attack whatsoever that you’ve heard of, and that might be out of the ordinary?”

The Dukes grumbled, but not one intelligent answer came from them.

“Exactly why I didn’t say anything,” Zavian said.

“There could have been murder,” The Duke of Grenao said.

“Could have, but haven’t,” Zavian pointed out. “And now that that is out in the open, is there a special strategy you have in mind to catch whatever attacked one of our best warriors?”

The Dukes, once again, grumbled in lower voices, like aggressive bees buzzing all at once.

“So, I have only achieved making you anxious over something my men and I have been prowling the lands for,” Zavian said.

“But why tell us now?” Frederick asked.

“Because, as I said, if any of you have anything creative that I haven’t done yet, be my guest.” Zavian answered.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The Duke of Selesee, the Late Queen Jasmine’s father spoke for the first time. Everyone hushed around the table, and the attention zeroed on him. His dead eyes turned to the King. “Isn’t it obvious this Kingdom is paying for what was done to my daughter?”

Azriel bristled at Zavian’s side, but Zavian held up a hand, stopping him before he could move.

“She was roasted like a festival goat, her beautiful skin charred.” He gulped, swallowing the pain in his voice and composing himself. “You and that Queen of yours, that evil gremlin from the pits of the Underworld will all burn!”

Zavian nodded to Azriel, and Azriel passed the signal to his guards, who stepped forward and hooked their hands around the Duke’s arms.

“You have to listen to me!” The Duke yelled, wrestling from their hold and they hauled him out of his seat.