Dye, Scene v1

Wow. It's been a long time since I worked on this. I blame school, but luckily all my hard school days are over!

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The castle halls were empty by the time Devin had finished dispatching soldiers to the locations given by Isella. Dinner was well passed, and hunger was beginning to set in once again. He unlocked the ornate silver door that stood at the wall adjacent to the king’s bedchambers. A soothing warmth enveloped him as he closed the door behind him.

Stepping forward, he stumbled over a pair of silver-threaded low wide-heeled pumps, which were undoubtedly Nakita’s. With a sigh, he picked up the pumps and set them against the wall to the left of Razelin’s laced boots, and his own buckled boots to the right. It’s not to say he didn’t expect her. After all, it seemed she was there more nights than not, visiting Razelin or spending the night. Although he didn’t care much for her ill-mannered and thoughtless ways, Raze enjoyed her company.

“Razelin, I’m back,” he called.

“Welcome back. Nakita is here.”

It felt odd living with Razelin, even though it had been over twelve years since he took her in. Perhaps it was because it had been twelve years that it was odd. She had transformed from a child who had lived through hell, into the most respected woman of the Rokan Empire. But her status didn’t matter to them. While there may have been a bit of doubt when Razelin first became the Silver Hand, everyone soon to act differently around her and view her in a different light. However, that wasn’t the case for the two of them. Away from their duties, their status didn’t matter. They were family.

A fire crackled softly in the fireplace of the living room. Devin followed Razelin and Nakita’s voice into the kitchen, where Nakita lie on their dining table in her undergarments. Her cold blue eyes stared at him, with her head resting on a towel, and her dye-covered hair dangling over the edge. Every other week, the same thing would happen. It was a foolish ritual, really. Originally, she dyed her hair to hide her Telanian traits, but her origin became common knowledge, and her status made it impossible for her to hide her identity.

“Glad to see you’re wearing something a little more modest this time,” sighed Devin.

The sorceress turned back to the ceiling. Not a lick of shame crossed her face. “You sound a little disappointed.”

Razelin chuckled in her chair from beside Nakita’s head. How the two of them became such close friends, Devin would never know. Razelin was like the day—warm and pleasant—while Nakita was undoubtedly dark and cold like the night. The way they acted… even the way they dressed. Razelin was already in her crimson nightgown, but it covered every inch of her body like everything else she wears. Nakita, on the other hand, was sprawled over a tabletop half-naked without a care in the world, possibly for the tenth time now.

Devin walked over to the island between the table and the kitchen and grabbed a small apple from the fruit bowl. “When people say ‘make yourself at home’, sometimes they expect at least a bit of reserve,” he said, biting into the apple.

“I am being reserved,” she said mockingly, though Devin knew she was serious. She extended an open hand out to him. He gave her one of the apples from the bowl.

“Devin, did Kismet debrief you on what happened?” asked Razelin, before the bickering could continue.

Devin moved Nakita’s pile of clothes from his usual chair before seating himself. It was impossible to ignore the sorceress that lie on the table between him and Razelin. Feeling very uncomfortable, he moved his chair around to Razelin’s side. “I didn’t see her. I came back right after sending out the last of the squads. Why, what happened?”

“She followed Lucas to Kelta, and was near there earlier this afternoon.”

Devin gave a puzzled look while Nakita chomped on her apple. “Kelta? But that’s a couple days south of here.”



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