I bowed low and neatly, hands resting under my ribs and arms at right angles, before uttering, "Your Majesty."
"Again, it's Jack," he articulated slowly.
"Oh, yes…" I trailed off, already fumbling.
Jack Pyre sat on the edge of his elegant desk, his leg propped up on a drawer pulled out an inch. His arms rested cooly in his lap, and my eyes drifted along his narrow form, perfect in its curves and angles. He was underdressed this time around, in only a very thin, near-translucent white shirt, tight wine red breeches, and black laced ankle boots with heels at least three inches tall. Jack was not nearly as clean-cut as he was the first time; his hair was ever so slightly mussed in a slack tail at his shoulder, his shirt collar folded incorrectly, and his eyes were exhaustedly half-lidded.
I mean, it was dawn after all, but I was still surprised, as I expected the King to be flawless at all times. The sight of him in a sluggish need of more sleep made him considerably less outlandish and disconcerting, thus I tried my best to look him in the eyes and draw fortitude from within myself. I was not the kind of girl to dissolve into a submissive mess like this; I needed to act the part of the King's unofficial advisor.
"Join me for breakfast," Jack stood up and brushed long, flaxen strands of loose hair out of his face and behind his ear. His blocky heels clacked against the wood and thudded dully in the rug as he strode to my side then crooked his arm. I stared at him blankly, not understanding what he wanted of me, and his eyebrows twitched upwards.
"Take my arm," Jack stated, a crisp accent shining through his pitch at the last second of his sentence.
I hesitated for a brief moment before sliding my forearm into the crook of his elbow, my breath catching in my throat. He led me through the grand open doors, and into the spacious and disturbingly empty sunlit hall.
"Is this necessary?" I couldn't stop myself from retorting in a sickeningly sweet voice. Jack snapped his eyes to me, cooly surprised, and he curled his lips in a subtle sneer.
"Why, do you prefer following behind me like a dog?"
"And why would I be the one in behind?"
"Yes, you have a point, O Queen of Senkyo. A poor servant like I should not dare to assume authority over you." His face was stoic and his voice flat, rendering his sarcasm incisive and certainly more of a warning than a jest.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me," I shifted my sight to the floor in shame. "But I don't understand why levity is such a crime to you, sir."
"It is not, I am playing along with you. Does it not seem that way?" No, it certainly does not, you smug asshole of an Elf.
"No, not really…" I started, daring to look back up at his perfectly symmetrical and undisturbed countenance. Something I had noticed about him before was attracting my attention now that I was close up to him; absolutely nothing lay behind those pale blue eyes, and they were so, so awfully empty.
"You'll learn to read me," Jack uttered smoothly. "You'll have to, because if you pulled the same thing with me while I was in a worse mood, I don't think I'd be able to restrain myself."
And yet I still could not tell if he was joking or being serious; did his ears just twitch playfully, or threateningly? How was I supposed to even know?
"What do you mean, sir… I mean, J-Jack?" I stuttered, accidentally giving into my submissive self once again.
"I mean what you want me to mean," He added vaguely. "Perhaps you do not desire my restraint?"
With a stern tone and glassy eyes, was he seriously flirting? His personality swung from indifferent to snarky at the speed of light, and to put it plainly, he was exhausting. He was as tiring to comprehend as a small child who cannot voice his concerns and longings, and I felt helpless before him as he toyed with me, flustering me continuously for his own pleasure.
"My, you are quite charming, my King," I responded breathily but carefully.
"I am well aware," He quipped back, voice still disappointedly stagnant. "You are doing excellent, by the way."
"Excellent at what?"
"Entertaining me. It gets rather monotonous around here, and I cannot even express to you how much worse it is when they hire a bore." So that is how he saw it, naturally. I am not surprised in the least; he knew he was superior to me, and the most I could do was amuse him with my petty attempt at rebellion.
"You're telling me I can act as familiar as I'd like with you, without consequence?" I planted my heels on the tile, stopping the two of us short. It felt like we were walking for ages just to reach the dining hall, and it began to exasperate me.
"Essentially," He tugged at my arm lightly, beckoning me to come. I refused, which was met with an irritated twitch of the left ear.
Instead, I reached my hand up and dragged my fingers along the length of his ear, feeling the oddly-shaped cartilage under his smooth skin. Bold, Syndra, Bold.
But Jack definitely did not appreciate this gesture.
His eyes widened and his pupils dilated at an alarming rate just before he forcefully grabbed my wrist, jerking it away. His grip was so tight it hurt terribly, and tears threatened to pool into my eyes as the pressure grew to the point that I thought my bones were going to shatter. My heart hammered violently in my chest and it took all my strength not to cry out.
This is what I get for being stupid.
And then he smiled at me, a diabolical, hellacious grin that flashed every gleaming carnivorous tooth in his mouth. Every flawless aspect of his face instantaneously contorted into weapons of trauma, the large, white orbs of his eyes bottomless, spiraling pits of despair. Gradually, he loosened his hold on my arm until his touch was brushing gently against my skin, long fingers curled alluringly on my trembling limb.
"Let's not do that again," He purred softly in my ear, leaning in close. Disgust sent tremors down my spine as I felt his hot breath tickle my cheek and neck. I wasn't sure how to describe the way he smelled; he purely smelled like an Elf, a strange but distinct scent that was neither uncomfortable nor pleasurable.
But in this exact moment, it was as though I were smelling Death itself, bitter and hungry as it swept over me. A searing flash of hatred came and went as soon as it arrived, causing me to clench my fists until my knuckles turned sickeningly white and my nails left little sickle-shaped marks in my cold palm.
"W-why?" I mumbled, choked by powerful emotion as I pulled out of his grasp and clutched my throbbing wrist to my chest.
"Heed my warning, you do not require an explanation," Jack's haunting smile still clung to his face, dripping with saccharine forewarning.
"You said you were not dangerous to me." I gathered any hope I had and compressed it into that one sentence.
"I did, and my words stand."
"But you hurt me."
"Did I?" He glanced briefly at my forearm, then seized it yet again to my dismay. As soon as he saw the red, gradually bruising marks on my skin, he tilted his head, brow furrowed.
"That was unintentional," Jack stated indifferently. "But I shall allow you to request something of me to make up for my... mistake."
"Anything?"
"No, not anything."
"So then what can I ask?"
"Anything I approve."
"Can you help my family?" I felt pathetic, almost begging at his feet like this right after he showed his true colors.
"No, I cannot. I do not allow special treatment." Of course he did not.
I couldn't think of anything else that I would want of him, because nothing else really mattered to me other than the safety and comfort of my family.
"Then could you perhaps tell me about yourself and your kind?" I attempted instead, recalling what Taro said about us humans knowing so little about the Elven nature.
Jack stared at me for a second before saying in his low voice, "I grant your request."
His frosted irises remained unblinking, unmoving, unfeeling. "Now shall you join me for breakfast?"