The day of the wedding came only a week later. Leana had refused Jehovah entry to her chambers the previous night, she couldn't bear to wake with him and have him watch her don the dress in which she would be bound to the king. Instead, Jay rolled around his uncomfortable, straw bed in the tower where he and the other women slept. Normally, having him there would be a huge cause for concern but the king didn't give a fuck and neither did the other girls so he stayed – frankly, he was happy for the company. Though, this morning no one dared bother him. All he could think about was Leana waking alone to have to stare at that god-awful dress. That was unfair; Keomie had made a wonderful dress. It was simply the connotation of it that made him hate it so. He could hear Lacy rummaging behind him as she got up to start preparations in the kitchen with Annette. He curled further into his own sheets, clutching the fabric in his hands, his knuckles turning white.
Leana stood on a small hill towards the back of the south gardens. The apple tree above her head threatening to drop its fruit any second as the branches swayed in the morning wind. She stood, still in her nightgown and a robe looking down to the grave at her feet.
Nydale Payne
Beloved friend of the crown, lover and father.
She grimaced at the sun peaking over the edge of the horizon and curled her hands into fists as she balled up the fabric, clutching it to her chest due to the cold autumn wind. "I promise, father," She began, whispering almost to the tune of the winds that whirled around her skirts. "I will end him,"
Hours could have passed before she heard the crunch of someone walking up the hill. At first, she suspected that it may be Jehovah but even he wasn't foolish enough to be seen so openly and publicly with her – especially today. Regardless, the clatter of metal against a belt buckle was enough to tell her who was approaching.
He stood for a moment, only watching her as she looked out to the horizon. "You're indecent," He murmured. Leana didn't move, she only continued to look out to the sun as it rose fully above the trees of the surrounding forest.
"I am the queen am I not?" Deploma's throat bobbed, not that she could see. "I will wear what I please," She commanded. She heard him shift on his feet in the amber leaves. Good; she hoped he was awkward. He was finally beginning to realise that in making her queen, he had tripped a switch in her that turned her into the ruthless woman that had always lived inside her, though it had never been turned on him.
"You'll catch a death," he argued calmly. The words send shivering memories through her as she recalled that moment in their childhood when he had said exactly the same thing to her on this hill.
It was gone three when he had spotted the light out on the hill by Nydale's grave. Having gone outside to investigate, he had found Leana crying on her knees by her father's grave. He had scooped her up in his arms and carried her all the way back to her rooms where he lit her fire and cradled her before the flames on the couch until sunrise. His fingers coaxing shivers out of her very time the tips of his digits grazed her exposed skin.
This was not like this time, he simply removed a maroon cloak and threw it to her, turning on his heels and walking back to the palace, which was more compassion than she had been expecting. Leana picked the cloth from the floor and threw it around her shoulders, inhaling deeply. The smell of roses no longer made her retch. The scent of blood only riled her, shaking her bones with rage. She would remember this scent and wondered if his blood would smell the same.
Later that morning, Keomie sat with her at the small table in her chambers. Normally, she would munch breakfast in the kitchens but she didn't want to face Jehovah; she couldn't. She picked at the bread on her plate, popping the odd morsel into her mouth. Keomie eyed her friend with excruciating detail, every dip in her skin, every shade more ashen she had become, how her eyes had began to sink into her skull. Her hair, wispy and messy. She looked like death. "Lea," She began, placing down her teacup. "Has he…?"
"No," She cut her off, knowing full well what she was going to ask. He hadn't touched her since she had accepted his proposal, not even implied that he wanted to. If she'd have known that a little slap to the face would stifle him for a week or so three years ago, she could have avoided so much pain. She shut the thought out of her mind.
Keomie shifted in her seat as she watched Leana casually sip a glass of wine she had poured. She raised a brow but Leana reflected her expression from the rim of the glass. Keomie laughed nervously. "Of course, drink away," Realising that Leana's whole plan for today was to drink herself into forgetting it had ever happened; and she didn't blame her. "You could have come down you know," She told her as she began flicking grapes around her plate with a silver fork. "He hasn't been seen since this morning," Meaning that he was still in that tower. Betraying her uncaring façade, Leana glanced out of the window towards the tower where he undoubtedly sat. Hopefully, Dronolas was with him. He had been back only twice since she returned, once the morning after to deliver a message to Katherine and Sam that she and Jay were fine and once more to return the message, Katherine had sent her a phone; not that it would work in Avalon but there were still photographs of the four of them in various places. One night, she and Jay had spent the better part of the night just scrolling endlessly through the images.
"I can't bear to see his face. Not today," With that, the conversation was over.
It was mere minutes before she was expected to present herself in the hall. She stood alone staring out onto the gardens below, wondering what it would be feel like to fling herself down to them when the door cracked open. Leana kicked up her skirt and raised a dagger to her own wrist. Jehovah was lightning fast, throwing the chair, that blocked his straight path to her, to the ground. He gripped her wrists just as the blade drew the tiniest amount of blood, pinning them beside her head against the stone wall. She began to cry as he held her firmly in place, her fingers loosening as she dropped the dagger to the floor with a clatter. He too shook with fear as he pressed her further and further into the wall.
"Please," Leana begged as she turned her head away, too afraid to look at him. Tears welled in his own eyes as he nestled his head into that space where her neck met her shoulder, gently loosening his grip on her but keeping her pinned, nonetheless. "I thought you were him," She cried. "I thought you were him," She wrestled out of his arms and wrapped them around his middle, crying into his chest. They remained like this for a while as he stroked her hair and shushed her gently.
"I had to come," He told her. "I couldn't stay away," it was true, he had spent the entire morning moping around the tower whilst the women worked hard down in the kitchen fighting the urge to come to her. She looked up to him and took his face in her hands, tears streaming down her face.
"I'll kill him one day, Jay. One day I'll kill him for you," With that promise, she kissed him harshly, but he staggered.
"You're makeup!" He hissed against her lips but she never let him break free. He then realised what she was doing; she wanted Deploma to see her smudged lips, her wrinkled clothes. She wanted him to know that she had been touched. Who was he to disobey his queen? With that declaration, he wrapped his arms around her waist, returning her kiss. He kissed the remnants of her tears from her cheeks, wiping them from existence, raising a hand to sweep her hair aside and kissed her on the jaw, tilting her head with his careful fingers. "I love you," He breathed into her hair, inhaling as much of her as he could, as if he could savour her scent. "I love you I love you I love y…"
"Leana!" The two jumped apart, to see Keomie standing in the doorway, arms folded. He had left the door open in his hurry to stop her from harming herself. Anyone could have walked in. The nymph stormed in, grabbing Jay by the arm and throwing him toward the still open door. "Go find Annette," She ordered him. With one more glance at Leana, she smiled reassuringly after him before he slinked away down the halls. Keomie turned to face her, only shaking her head as Leana pulled her harmed wrist behind her large skirt, grabbing a pair of white gloves off the vanity and slipping them on to conceal her wound. There was no time to work on it now.
As the two walked down the hall towards the throne room, Keomie sighed. "And to think, this would have been the happiest day of our lives four years ago," Leana raised a brow as she clutched the bouquet of red roses in her hands.
"Our?"
"Of course!" Keomie smiled half-heartedly. "Watching my two best friends get married would have been like a dream," she revealed sadly. Leana only placed a warm hand on her friend's wrist in response before they opened the doors to the throne room.
Every pair of eyes in the room went to her, though, there were only a few that she cared about. Alistair was guarding the door though even he took a glance in her direction, the sorrow and despair in his eyes evident. She didn't want his pity. At the back, Annette was standing blank faced beside Lacy and Jay who only smirked under his mossy hair as he flexed his back. He read her face as she wondered what those muscles would look like under that shirt even though she already knew. No one else seemed to notice this but her. It was their filthy secret. The only giveaway was the splotch of red blood on the fabric of Jay's top which clearly, she, himself and Keomie had all failed to notice. Panic flooded her system but then she calmed – why did she care?
Keomie walked her up towards Deploma who's eyes were scanning her all over. He noticed the wrinkles in her dress instantly but dared not say a word. He knew when making the bargain that this was simply something he would have to deal with. When she settled beside him, she watched Keomie shoot a warning glance in his direction which he ignored as his eyes went to her gloved hand as she smiled under a wicked eye and tugged at the bloodied hem a little. His jaw clenched in anger; so he had seen the blood on Jay's shirt. 'Good' she thought as she turned back to the priestess.
Little did Leana notice, that Jay had folded his arms, donned a cloak and left the castle. There was nothing he could do in that moment, and the best method to prevent himself from doing something stupid was to leave altogether. He was no prisoner there, he could leave whenever he wished, but Deploma knew that he wouldn't. That he wouldn't leave Leana alone there.
He wrapped the deep green cloak tightly around his shoulders to shield himself from the cold winter air. He hadn't been prepared for just how cold the northern winters were.
He sat alone in a small tavern, clutching a cup filled with some kind of strong alcoholic drink – honestly, he had no idea what he was drinking. All that he knew was that it made his head spin and made him forget which was exactly why he was there.
He drank himself into the night, no idea what time it was by the time he heard a scuffle from the other end of the bar. He raised his heavy head to see a large pixie male take hold of a young barmaid's dress and give it a firm tug. His fingers curled tighter around the cup and his mouth formed a sharp line. The young girl was no older than sixteen with pale yellow skin and adorable little space buns (as humans called them); a pixie. The second the burly man's sausage-like fingers curled around the womans wrist, Jehovah was up, knocking the table as he stood.
He strode over to see the extent of fear on the young girls face as the man fought to pull her into his lap as she squealed. "Let her go," He growled, his hands curling into fists at his side. The man looked to him with disgust in his eyes.
"And what's a pretty faerie boy like yourself going to do if I don't?" He asked, tightening his grip on the girl. Jehovah's ever sobering mind scanned his surroundings for anything that he could use as a weapon – a pool cue was leant against the bar not three feet from him. That would do for a makeshift spear – his preferred weapon of choice.
With a movement fast as lightning, he reached out for the girl with his right hand, yanking her from her captor and throwing her behind him against one of the tables. All the while, his right reached for the cue, spinning it round to grasp it firmly with both hands.
The pixie shook his head in astonishment as Jay grinned evilly under his hair. He would make this man wish he had never been born.
The large man stood, brandishing a small, poorly made knife from his waistband. "You shouldn't have done that boy," He snarled before he lunged for him. With his feline-like speed, he ducked under the man's swing, spinning the end of the cue up to crack him right on the spine. The man went tumbling into a table and steadied himself, Jehovah spinning the cue back into a comfortable position, his demonic smile never faltering. Normally, in the human realm, this is where a bouncer would intervene and drag them both out but here, in a tavern run by sheepish women, they dared not interrupt. Blood would be shed until one had no more blood to give or yielded. He intended on avoiding the latter, he wanted him to suffer.
The pixie lunged again, this time Jehovah holding up the cue to block his strike and snarling up into his ugly face. With a push of strength, he threw the man back, the tip of the cue knocking the knife from his hand as he fell to the ground. Once he was down, he braced the cue over his knee and snapped it in two, throwing the larger end aside and bringing the thinner, now sharper, end down into his chest. The girl gasped in front of him but he paid her no mind.
Jay dropped to one knee and smiled as he leant in to whisper in his ear "Men like you deserve to burn," he snarled before picking the dagger from the floor and slashing at the mans throat. Blood ran everywhere, caking Jehovah's clothes as the gasping man fell to the floor, hands clutching his throat. Standing, he approached the young girl, he was so close to her that she backed into the table behind. "What's your name?" He asked gently, his horrid smile now wiped from his face.
"Ugh," She gasped. "Selene," She told him as her heart thundered in her chest. Jay cocked his head as he lifted the blade to her thigh which made her shudder with fear.
"Femoral artery. Four minutes and they're dead," He told her which caused her to calm slightly to even look him in his beautiful jade eyes. He tenderly took her pale hand in his bloody ones and placed the knife in her palm, curling her fingers around the hilt. With that, he cast three coins down in his table and left.
After both the king and his new queen had drank themselves silly and the clock had long chimed twelve, they sauntered down the hall, keeping as much distance as they could between them until they reached Deploma's chambers. Keomie and two other Lords that Leana didn't care to know by name followed – witnesses. Leana gulped as all five of them slipped into the room. She had been frightened not of this particular night – she had done it all before – but that Keomie would have to watch. As the alchemist, she was expected to be present. The door was locked behind them as Leana stood before him in the centre of the room, refusing to make eye contact with Keomie. The two lords looked on hungrily as if this was some messed up fantasy of theirs to watch this. The twisted curl of their smiled were disgusting.
Seeing her keep glancing behind her towards the men, Deploma turned his head slightly but not enough to see them. "Leave us," He commanded calmly. The men staggered as Keomie looked to the king.
"But… your majesty, the law requires that…"
"I am the law!" He barked. "Now leave us," Deploma growled. With that, the men scuttled out. Keomie, willing to put up more of a fight, looked to Leana for confirmation. Thanking the gods that Deploma had ordered them to leave, she nodded to her before her friend reluctantly left.
The only sound in the room was the flickering of candlelight. He turned to remove his cloak and fling it on the chaise before turning back to face her. She was so tiny beneath him, it bewildered him that she was such a formidable weapon packed into such a tiny package. His fingers gripped the tip of her bloody glove, pulling it free and casting it down onto the floor. His eyes never leaving hers for a moment, he lifted her wrist to his lips. Gently, he dragged his tongue along the thin mark, lapping up every essence of dried blood from her skin. He grinned at her but never let her wrist drop. "Care to explain," She hid nothing from him, only snatched her hand back to her chest and snapped her head away.
"I did it myself," She told him.
"And he stopped you," He stated, she didn't need to answer, he already knew. "Well," He murmured, turning his attention to the strings around the wrists of his shirt. "Perhaps he does have his uses," Leana growled deep in her chest and cursed him.
He turned, his eyes scanning her up and down. A memory flashed through her mind, from four years ago when she told him of the news of their betrothal. She hasn't even bothered to dress appropriately before running from the queens rooms to his in her nightgown and a thin shawl.
As mere children they kissed for hours on the small chaise and eventually the bed, his hands never faltering, refusing to touch her out of chivalry. That felt like such a long time ago.
He came to her, grasping her wrists in his hands, his harsh calluses raking against the slit on her wrist. She yelped and yanked her injured arm from his grasp, striking him for the second time right across the face. This was a mistake, his face only lit with a hotter lust as he bared his teeth.
This time, he gripped harder, yanking at her joints and pinning her arms to her side, thrusting her against the wooden wall but still, she wriggled under his hands. "All this time, yet you still fight me, Lea," He purred in her ear as he pulled her from the wall and literally threw her down onto the mattress. She kicked herself back and braced herself against the headboard.
"Because you made a fatal mistake giving me this power!" She yelled which caused him to halt. "I will never stop fighting you. Every minute of every day I will make your life hell," She snarled, this time it was her turn to bare her teeth. Even though he lunged again, Leana knew that he had understood every word.
It was four before Leana re-entered her room, Keomie stood pacing at the window, anxiously waiting for her to return. The second she caught a glimpse of her friend, she dashed over, taking her bruised shoulders in her hands, eyes welling with tears. "What did he do?" She gasped as she began to cry but Leana simply smiled like a madwoman. Her eyes teeming with insanity, she grinned and mumbled, "I promised him hell and I delivered,".
It was deep into the night when Jehovah slipped into the servants quarters, still dripping with blood that caked every inch of his shaking body. The old banshee that was seated on the edge of his bed stared him up and down though he didn't falter, only returned her stare. ���Please tell me they weren't innocent," she begged.
"He wasn't," Jay spat as he strode past the woman and pulled back his sheets. Annette stood and clasped her hands at her navel.
"Be careful, boy," She warned. Jay only slipped into his sheets and growled under his breath but she dared not say anything else, neither did she expect him to work the next day.