It was frosty outside, the air tasted sweet as the smell of freshly baked goods filled my nose. The aroma was mouthwatering. I quickly walked past the baker standing out front advertising his food and instead slipped around the the back where I knew something must await me. My skinny 17 year old body was starving, it had been so long since I had eaten anything other than a handful of nuts or some leaves for breakfast and dinner. I felt the icy wind brush my skin, it's cold touch unwelcome. I tighten my cloak around me, as I walk to the windowsill, where sure enough there were several dishes of baked good sitting out to cool. I grabbed all of them dumping them into my bag and slipping into the shadow realm using a spell. Now my young demon friends and even a few fellow Witcher's were the only ones to see me. As a Witcher I didn't get to be called by my name: Esmerelda. No I was only Witcher. But I was the best Witcher in the kingdom by far. Even if no one else but the other Witcher's new. I had been correct about the baker, the frosty weather meant it would only take a few minutes for the goods to cool off, and he was hustling back to the window sill the collect the treats. I stood three feet away in his direct sight, but he could not see me for I was in a realm of demons and Witchers. I watched as he went white with shock, then red with anger.
"How in the bloody name-" he scratched his head confused and angry. I could feel emotion and his were very strong.
"How do those dirt poor kids do it?" I snicker reading the amazement in his voice as he looks for the treats.
"Without a trace. Not so much as a damn crumb." He glowers. I laugh some more, accompanied by the demons now.
"Don't You know it's wrong to steal?" Comes a slick metallic voice. I turn, stunned to see the prince of Meldove, tall muscular and handsome, with dark brown hair and deep crimson eyes. He pulls his lips back to show his teeth in a sly smile.
I look at his clothing: tight black tunic with black trousers and red trim lacing both. Shoulder pads made from rubies and a lovely cloak made of soft delicate fabric. The cloak was a deep deep red-close to black-and a very bright red to offset it. It looked to be very thick and warm. I wanted it.
"I do your highness unfortunately I don't have the pleasure, nor the money, to follow the rules of basic courtesy." I say sourly, curtsying slightly. He grinned at my displeasure, I could feel the smugness radiating off of his angelic form. How ironic for a demon prince to be as handsome as an angel.
His brow furrows and confusion and interest fill his emotions.
"I've never met a Witcher nor another demon, not even another warlock, that could travel so easily to this realm. You merely thought about it and poof, your here. How?" He was very puzzled.
I shrug. "I was a Witcher by force. I was born with the magic, I couldn't get rid of it. My trainer-my friend really- was amazing. She taught me so much before she died." I say with a grin remembering her. I hand a little begging ghost-demon a cookie and grin.
"You owe me one. Mortal food ain't easy to come by." I say with a laugh. The demon darts away.
I feel attraction for just a second, radiating off of someone in the room. It was too quick to pinpoint. I assume it was the demons.
"So you can come here whenever?" He asks gently watching the demon nibble away at the cookie.
"Yeah." I mumble.
"Don't mind my asking but do you belong to a kingdom?" He says stepping closer. His golden crown slants one his head as he walks. It's not a bad slant, but actually shows off his nice hair.
"I don't your highness." I say.
"Would you want to meet my father?" He asks stepping even closer.
"Uh. Sure. As long as I get food." I mumble.
He laughs, his deep red eyes glowing with pleasure.
"Lovely. I cannot wait to make your acquaintance" he says with a grin looking me up and down.
I smile. Perhaps meeting the king wouldn't be so bad...