Her body was so heavy, but finally she managed to pull herself up. She swiped up her little bathroom basket and yawned. It was early morning.
Carefully stepping around the giant heap of a man on the floor she made it out into the hallway, and stretched delicately.
She smiled at the guard skiddishly, and he turned to head back to the first floor for some sleep. She headed for the second floor bathroom. Her midsection still felt sore and bruised, but at least the stitches had healed and she didnt feel like she could spill her guts open with a wrong move.
She made it to the bathroom and latched the door behind herself.
She looked into her reflection in the clear full wash basin. She had asked the hallway night watchman to fill it for her, she was not suppose to lift a thing, but it was hard for her to ask for help. She hated it.
Today was his last day keeping watch, but he had agreed to fill her washbasin each morning. The woman in the reflection was covered in long scars her cheeks were pocketed with them despite the quick work of the Nursara that day.
That had been the day she'd lost all hope of a better life.
She had known she was a beauty before; beautiful enough to pick a kind middleclass man. She had been an orphan which had left her open to atrocious situations, but was also a blessing in the fact that she would be able to pick her own husband.
She remembered bitter tears spilling down her ruined face as the Nursara had unwrapped her. She knew then no good man would want her.
After that, the orphanage had planned on shipping her to a worker's house where she would become a lowly maid. Reliant on her master's whims and wealth.
She had said goodbye hastily to her pipedreams of love and a better life. She had also runaway.
She spent a couple of weeks scrounging for food, dirty, and alone. People looked at her sideways, always, for the hideous scars that marked her face. Then the gang had taken her in, made her strong, but in the end she was still a women. They had reminded her of that.
Breathing in a sigh she dropped a few drops of rose scented oils into the bowl and pulled out a little sponge. She undressed and bathed her poor wretched body.
The scars on her midsection were a gruesome sight and she laughed bitterly at the sight of them. She dressed in fresh clothes and brushed her short hair. She had it cut after the incident. Carver had walked down to 6th street to find a female hair stylist, because even though they had one in the manor; she couldn't stand the touch of a man right now. Maybe not ever.
She painted her eyes and coated them in black. Her bright eyes glimmered back at her in the mirror. She had no doubt she would have faith in her strength again.
She stepped out into the hall and collided with a tall fellow in a hurry. Every nerve in her body was alert instantly. Her whole body shook and her chest froze in utter fear. She had not noticed the small cry leave her lips as they collided.
The man steadied her by the shoulders and apologized before releasing her.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded unable to speak.
"You sure?" The man looked nervously at her.
She felt his eyes on her and her face burned in shame.
She nodded again and waving him off.
"Yes, please go."
He thought for a moment and then turned down the hall and walked away. When he was gone she swung back into the bathroom and bolted the door. She sat on the edge of the tile and sobbed.
***
*Nadine
It was early morning the sun wasn't even up. For the past ten minutes she'd been thinking what she was going to say to him now she threw the heavy blankets and animal pelts aside.
She stormed to the living room to find it empty. The blankets he usually slept in were neatly folded by the fireplace.
She stormed into the kitchenette that was also empty. Where was he? She peaked out the kitchenette window into darkness searching for him. She sighed. The boiling anger in her simmered as she had a prick of unease.
She walked to the fireplace to touch the blankets; they were cold. She was about to head to the bedroom when she saw a fleck of white in the corner of her vision.
There was a envelope peaking out of the ash. She didn't feel the slightest bit guilty at being nosey as she brushed it off and opened it.
There was neat print of an adress in the top left corner. It was in the city of Baylotè, she read the print in the boddom right corner. It was the name of a woman: Airia Gejan. The script in the middle was smaller. She paced to the kitchenette. The first traces of light were peaking through the window. Seduce the lady of the house Airia Gejan. Steal her heirloom. The famous Red Array Gemstone choker. Profit split sixty forty in favor of Snakeeyes.
***
Scar Sylvador straightened his suit before picking up the serving tray. For the last half hour he had been scoping out the lady of the house.
She spent a lot of her time glaring across the manor at a man and woman. After asking some of the year round staff he learned that the man and woman were her husband and his mistress. He smiled with satisfaction. His job just got a whole lot easier.
Airia was a beautiful woman. Long blond hair, fair smooth skin, and a feiry golden gaze. She was suppose to be in her late thirties but she didn't look a day over twenty.
He came up behind her with a bottle of champagne and stood directly behind her.
When the gentleman behind him left the area he spoke in a smooth manner. His voice as usual was deep and a little husky.
"If you ask me the mistress of the house is getting a bit fat these days."
She whirled to find him standing there with a devilish smile. He let his eyebrows raise in interest and surprise. His eyes devoured her from head to toe making her face flush.
Nobody dared look at her like that.
"Airia Gejan; forgive me, I heard you two get along impeccably."
This comment made her frown and regain her composure.
"My husband does pride himself on the peace of his household."
She said it pleasantly as if rehearsing a play she had long since grown bored of.
He stepped closer; such an intensity blazing in his blue eyes that she couldn't help but be captivated.
"May I fill you up?" Her eyebrows shot up. Angry words rose to her lips until he raised a bottle of champagne and she blushed, heavily embarrassed.
"Please do."
His devilish smile was back disarming her as she reached a cautious arm towards him. His hand boldly brushed hers as he grabbed the glass to fill her cup.
He poured the champagne and stared into her golden eyes. Her hand quivered under his intense stare. They both noticed it, he grabbed her wrist to steady it. Saying nothing he finished pouring her glass, and then released her.
"May I say somthing."
She nodded unable to speak.
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," the lie fell smoothly out of his mouth, "and I've been all around the world," he paused again for dramatic effect, "Your husband is a foolish man to be distracted by a moth when he holds a butterfly."
He turned and walked away. He smiled a real smile as he felt her gaze heat his back.
The rest of the party she was scanning the crowd instead of bitterly gazing at her husbands mistress. He tried to stay out of sight for a bit. Then he appeared for quick moments. Refilling a glass here handing out appetizers there.
He kept his distance. Each time he dissapeared he would wait for her to find him and meet her gaze with a glance. Her eyes always found him in the crowd. Good. Their eyes would meet. He'd smile at her. She would smile back.
When he'd avoided her long enough. He walked back up to her and stepped around a group and stopped mid pace as if suprised to see her.
The most charming smile came over his face as he again refilled her glass.
"Airia," She smiled at the bold usage of her first name and asked, "What can I call you?"
"Damien Trujillo. You can just call me Damien."
"Well Damien, Would you like a year round position working under my husband? I would love to have you employed as a waiter or stable hand if you prefer, I can also open a spot as a gardener. The pay is decent, but for you it can be... double the usual amount." He smiled and set the serving dish in his hand on the table. Slowly he stepped up to her until they were a hairsbreath away. With a small movement of his wrist suddenly he spilt a little champagne on her beautiful dress.
"Let me help with that." He said calmly putting aside the cup in his other hand. Within seconds it was replaced by a handkerchief.
A polite servant to anyone watching. Although most eyes were on the small indoor firework display he'd set off in the corner. He lowered his voice pinning her with his heated stare.
"I must decline. Ill be leaving the city tomorrow."
He dabbed of the champagne and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. His breath fanned her skin and she froze in shock as he boldly dabbed the champagne from her breasts.
"Under your husband? I have plenty of money Aria, and I much rather be under you. Or above. Whichever you fancy." He stepped away from her.
"I'll be by the little fountain out front if you want to except my offer. If you wont I'll be 'achingly' disappointed." He brushed a stray piece of hair across her cheek and turned quickly to depart again.
He walked straight to the fountain and stood there a muscle in his jaw twitched as he whiddled a small scrap of wood. It was a butterfly already half done.
His fingers restlessly carved the wood as his mind wandered to a women with violet eyes. What would she think about this. He knew on some level what she would think, and he turned that thought from his mind as he glanced at the door.
Airia followed him out five minutes earleir than he expected. She blushed when she saw him and floated over to him. All the while she nervously twisted her dress in her hand.
"I think I've lost my mind. Convince me otherwise." He smiled at her boldness.
"Take me to your room and I will."
Nervously she turned and walked towards her room. She nodded at a maid here and there as she went. Eventually she opened a door and swung into the room.
"Do I have to worry about your husband?" He said shutting the door behind them and turning to pin her to the wall, "Or can we take our time?" She smiled breathlessly before blushing in shame and staring at the floor.
"My husband has not visited my room in nearly five years." Shyly she began undoing his suit front and he watched her intensely.
She looked admiredly at his bare chest and smiled as he quickly tore off his top and began kissing her neck. His tongue tasted the perfumed skin. His mouth recoiled for a split second. Why had he expected to taste citrus? His teeth lightly bit and teased as his hands roamed her body. She was lost instantly to the calloused fingers of his hand. It had been so long since she'd been touched.
His mind though was focused, too focused. He was unable to enjoy anything for his mind kept ordering him to think of a different neck, a different set of lips. He gave in.
Imagining violet eyes and warm honey skin he closed his eyes and pictured Nadine. He growled softly into her neck and a sigh slightly too high pitched responded. His hands danced over the strings of her corset until her breasts were bare. He massaged and teased and pleasured there until moans of uncontrolled pleasure came in waves. He tore her dress from her while teasing the other side of her neck. He ran his hands over a flat torso and smoothed out around a waist that was slightly too small, hips that were much to slim. He pulled her to him gripping her rounded hindquarters and pushed her up into the wall. Her legs spread for him and wrapped around his waist as he pinned her to the wall. Her small soft body melded to him as their hearts beat rapidly against their chests. There was heat and between them as both their breath mingled and her body trembled. He opened his eyes.
Glazed orbs of gold glowed dimly at him surrounded in platinum blond and he froze. He couldn't do this.
"Is everything alright Damien?"
He kept composed. He slowly reached for his belt and instead stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Ofcourse." He said simply. Her eyes had been confused when he froze up and now they twinkled in a smile. He ran his fingers comfortably over a capsule. He was quick to snap it beneath her nose and she collapsed over his shoulder. He gently cradled her fall and carried her to her bed.
He went to her closet and dressed her in a gown before tucking her in. He cleaned up her clothes from the floor and redressed himself. A small wooden chest sat on her nightstand.
Lifting the lid made his stomach fall in strange ways. There inside was a red choker with red jewels hanging beautifully like tear drops amid a pile of other peices. Normally he would have seduced her properly and taken everything.
Today he took just the necklace. He sat on the bed for a few hours whiddling the wood in the dark, alone with his thoughts. He stood hastily scribbling a note. It read messily 'Your husband is a true idiot. I'm terribly sorry. This wasn't my idea, and I'm just a moth anyway. Worst. Im a snake. You deserve much better.'
He left it on the stand folded with a wooden butterfly intricately crafted and settled on top.
He pocketed the necklace, and headed to the carriage that was waiting for him.