Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 4

I stared at him angrily.

And again saw no guile.

This was not a man who would flirt with a woman who he knew had just lost the only man she'd ever loved in a heinous, drawn-out way, the pain of which would never die.

G.o.ds.

How mortifying.

"I...I, well..." By the G.o.ds, I was stammering! "I apologize." And apologizing! G.o.ds, what had become of me? I finished it quickly, "I mistook your words."

"I like lookin' at you, Franka, and you're cute when you stop tryin' so hard to be a hard-a.s.s b.i.t.c.h. But no decent man would make a play on a woman in your situation." He grinned, "He succeeds in getting her s.h.i.+tfaced drunk or not."

s.h.i.+tfaced?

I did not ask.

"I am not drunk," I lied haughtily on a toss of my head.

"Bulls.h.i.+t."

I narrowed my eyes at him declaring, "I dislike this word."

He continued to appear amused. "I get it you think you can rule the world with a flash of those gorgeous blues, a pout on that pretty mouth and a p.i.s.sed-off look, baby, and there are men who'd likely break their backs to cater to your every whim. I'm just not one of those who falls for that s.h.i.+t." He leaned in mock-suggestively. "I do it the other way around, minus the pouting and p.i.s.sed off parts."

I pressed his way. "You do flirt."

He shrugged, clearly continuing to be entertained-by me-and not hiding it.

"It's just me."

There was a time when I'd wish he would. When I would play with Noctorno Hawthorne in ways we'd both like.

Those times were dead for me.

Forever.

I wrapped my fingers around my mostly-drunk gla.s.s of whiskey on the table, turned to face the fire, sat back and emptied its contents down my throat.

"Hey," he called.

I allowed only my eyes to slide his way.

"Just messin' with you, sweetheart," he explained.

I looked back to the fire and decided, with all that I'd already given him, there was no reason to stop doing it.

With this man, one of only two I'd ever met, it would cause no harm.

Therefore, I shared, "I miss him."

"Bet you do," he said gently.

"Their deaths were too quick," I declared, speaking of Minerva, Edith, Helda, the witches who had all deservedly perished that day.

The witches who had taken my Antoine from me and then treated him to a slow, agonizing death.

"Mm-hmm," he murmured soothingly.

"But it's over," I concluded.

"That's the rub, am I right?"

I turned my head to give my attention to Noctorno. "The rub?"

"Without vengeance to concentrate on..."

I understood him even if he left it at that, and I s.h.i.+fted my gaze back to the fire.

"Got all night, Franka," he told me. "Goin' to Apollo and Maddie's wedding in a few days, hangin' here, taking some time to be in a place not a lot of people from my world could hit for a vacation. So if you want me to pull the cord and get us more whiskey, just say the word."

He was kind.

Too kind.

"I wish for the bread and lovely cheese I consumed earlier to remain in my stomach, not be expressed onto the carpet," I told him.

"Think that's a good plan," he muttered.

I set my gla.s.s on the table and pushed out of my seat, looking down at him.

"I should find my bed and allow you to find yours."

He stood too, putting him nearly toe to toe with me.

I was a tall woman, unusually tall for this world, and I found myself wondering if it was the same in his.

But he towered over me.

Suddenly, and in a strange way I found oddly enjoyable, I felt delicate.

Vulnerable.

He was closer than he'd been to Circe in the doorway to her bedchamber.

Thus he could easily lift his hand and sweep his thumb along my jaw.

"You gonna sleep?" he asked quietly, and I tore thoughts of his thumb on my jaw out of my mind, now feeling no joy but deep guilt for a disloyal thought so soon after I'd lost Antoine.

"Since I haven't done that well since he was taken, I doubt tonight will be any different, regardless of the whiskey," I answered.

"They got things you can take here, you know, that help you with that?" he asked.

"Are you referring to sleeping draughts?" I inquired.

"Probably," he answered.

"Yes," I said on a succinct nod. "However, I avoid them. There are those who use them who become dependent on them. I don't wish to hazard that."

"Good call, Franka. But one night? A couple?" He leaned infinitesimally closer. "I can see it in your eyes, babe, the shadows under them. I can see exactly how much you haven't been sleeping. Pull the cord, sweetheart. Get someone to bring you some. Get some good sleep. Yeah?"

Why he ended his statement with a "Yeah?" (another form of "yes" from his world) as if he was asking for my agreement when he'd uttered a command right before that (I gentle one, but one nonetheless), I had no idea.

What I did know was that my head was swimming from the drink, lack of sleep, the activities of the day, and regardless that I knew I wouldn't sleep, I was exhausted and had been exhausted, down to my bones, for months.

Further, I'd spent far too long in his intoxicating company already.

So I agreed by lying, "I'll pull the cord, Noctorno."

"Noc, babe," he corrected.

"Of course," I murmured.

"You want, I'm around, you're still around the next couple of days, I'll teach you Tetris," he offered.

I wanted to learn Tetris even though I had no idea what it was. I wanted him to show me everything his gadget could do.

I wanted to be in his soothing company where no games were played.

Where it was just him and me.

"I'll be leaving imminently."

He studied my face, sobered and nodded.

Inebriated or not, my mask was back in place, and Noctorno didn't miss it.

"I'll bid you goodnight," I said crisply, stepping back, dipping my chin into my neck and buckling my knees in a slight curtsy.

A slight curtsy.

To a commoner.

What was becoming of me?

"'Night, Franka."

I should thank him for the evening. Thank him for the words he said. Thank him for spending time with me when he could be with others that were better company.

I didn't do that.

I rose to my full height, gave myself the gift of one last look in his eyes, turned and swept from the room.

Once in the bed in said room I tossed.

And I turned.

Leaving my trusted lady's maid to her own slumber, I eventually got up and pulled the cord.

A servant brought me a sleeping draught.

It took some time to work.

But once I fell asleep, I slept for twelve hours.

Chapter Two.

There Are No Such Things as Heroes Franka The next afternoon, following one of the royal guards, I strode sedately down the halls toward the queen's study.

I'd been summoned.

I'd had my bath, my hair arranged, my personal lady's maid, Josette, working miracles (as she normally did) doing the work of three maids quietly with no complaint and great talent.

I had never told her this, of course. Though I did pay her wages and they were more than others in her position, so I suspected she knew.

If I saw him again, I would also not tell Noctorno that I took his advice about the sleeping draught and now felt more refreshed than I had in months.

Further, I would not tell him that our conversation of the evening before had been most helpful.

It had not alleviated the pain or the guilt. However, it offered me ways to cope with, at least, the latter.

I had no idea why the queen was summoning me, but I hoped whatever it was didn't take too long. I'd had no food since my bread and cheese (and wine and whiskey) of the night before, and for the first time since Antoine was taken, I was famished.

I also needed quiet and concentration to plan my next steps, those being the ones I took after I visited Kristian to make certain he was healthy and well.

I followed the guard down the hallway thinking all of this as well as the fact I wished to be away from the Winter Palace as soon as I could.

I thought this because I simply wished to be away as soon as I could. It was never safe for me in Lunwyn. Every visit there was a risk.