He's a stubborn man.
He says nothing and lets out a sigh, his hands entwined tightly with each other, leaning forward slightly, before resting his forehead on his knees. Letting out a pained groan, his shoulders slumping. "I abhor this isle." His voice comes out in a low whisper. Still, I could hear him perfectly.
I say nothing and the carriage sways and rocks as we move further away from the castle. The ride to the villa was silent, except for the occasional curse and groan from Ventura and the sound of the dirt path and horses.
"We've arrived."
"Uh—Thank you!" I quickly climb out of the carriage. Ventura climbed out behind me, with his neutral expression back on, closing the door behind him and following behind me. I hurried up the quick steps and up to large wooden doors. Raising my hand to knock on them, one of the doors swing open, revealing a woman dressed in a black long-sleeved dress, with a white apron tied tightly around her front half. Her gaze moved from me, then to Ventura. A scowl crossed her lips.
"Only guests of the kin' are allowed 'ere. Scram."
"We are. My Lord is tired and has left the castle early. The palace carriage brought us here." She looks behind me and stares at the carriage, before looking back at me, her scowl dropping. She bowed and moved out the way.
"Forgive me."
Her voice is quiet. Ventura scoffs and pushes past me and the woman. "If I was in better spirits, I would report you to the King. Luckily. I do not care for such at this moment. Lead me to my chamber and do so quickly." The woman keeps her head down and nods. Before scurrying to the stairs, I close the door behind me quietly and quickly followed. Lord Ventura's room door was against the left wall of the long hallway. Just as you stepped off the stairs, you turned immediately to the right and could get a clear view of the open space from the front door. The woman quickly opens the door, and hands Ventura a key, before bowing and silently leaving, not without sending a glare in our direction.
Ventura waltzed into his room, and I close the door behind me. His tough act dropped as he peeled off his jacket and quickly unbutton the shirt. Held them out for me to grab. I move to his side, grabbing the two pieces of clothing and finding an ajar door that leads to a private bathroom. "Turn on the bath." Flipping on the light and tossing the clothing into the deep-dish porcelain sink, before walking over to the bath, plugging the drain and turning the handles, and turning it on.
"You will also have to wash my hair."
My face fell as I glanced over my shoulder, blinking at Lord Ventura, who lazily and quickly braided his hair. Looking away from him with a silent eyeroll, I made sure the water was hot, but not to the point it burned. Getting up from my crouching position and stood up, motioning to the bath.
"I'll prepare your clothes."
"And help me bathe,"
I say nothing as I exit the bathroom, finding Ventura's bag on his bed, skillfully placed. Pulling out the needed undergarments and a plain black button-up shirt with black dress pants and socks. Placed them out on the bed, and pulled the suitcases back to the floor, placing them near his dressers. Rummaging through his smaller bags and pulling out his pills and preparing them, my mind racing with different thoughts and questions as I crushed the pills into a powder.
Moved from the nightstand and back to the bathroom, my knuckles gently knocking against the door, before a muffled 'come in' answer. I slip back into the bathroom, finding Ventura lazily laying in the bath, with his eyes closed.
"Are you alright?"
"Stop asking if you know the answer. The pain has abated, and the bleeding has stopped, but I have a raging headache." He answers, frustrated, my gaze and mouth dropping into a scowl. Moving to sit on the floor, my back was against the door with a scowl. Ventura's eyes fluttered open and slowly looked at me, rolling his eyes.
"Stop scowling and ask your questions. You get three."
I sit up and cross my legs. "How did this happen? With the mark."
"It is a curse of the siren..." He inhales quickly, sinking further into the bath.
"Most sirens when they fail to kill their victim, sink to the bottom of the ocean, but if they in any way, touch you and draw blood, you are cursed..." His hands subconsciously run over his neck, slightly hissing in pain, "As long as you remain in the place of the siren's death, you must feel their pain. Count it as a punishment for surviving."
"How does the pain stop?"
He looks at me and raises a second brow. "Is that your second question?" I shake my head, moving closer to where my back rested against the cabinets of the sink. "Who saved you?"
"Why do you consider negotiations failed? It was not because my father was incompetent," his voice falls flat, filled with regret as he lazily wiped water against his arms, "it was because I was. I was a brilliant child and knew better, but my desire to learn led me to ruin everything for the king and my father..."
Thick lamentable silence fills the air, and I'm quiet. If Lord Ventura's father hadn't left early, then negotiations would've gone well and led to over 20 years of companionship between the two nations. "Why hadn't your father come back...?"
"I obtained an illness from the curse, and my father, a much kinder man than I. He cares for the king, but I was that of his blood. So, he stayed beside me and returned. That is presumably the cause as to why I am good at masking my illnesses." He unplugs the drain of the bath, pulling aside the curtain to conceal himself as he stood up, turning on the shower part.
"That was the only thing my father asked of me... Was to pretend."
I stand up and sit on the counter of the sink. "You've always been the type to get sick?"
"Until I was 18. I had outgrown the mark of the siren and got ill less frequently. Unless I was near the ocean. Or within Astrolia land or waters. I overestimated myself. It will not happen again." Listening to the shower run and Lord Ventura speak, occasionally swinging my legs. He really didn't need my help.
"Yet you voluntarily came. And pretended to be fine." The shower turns off and Ventura grabs a pure white towel from the rack. I slide off the counter and move as Ventura opens the curtain, the towel wrapped tightly around his waist. My gaze moves away quickly.
"I am a man that is unable to change, and it is what the King—It is what my friend asked of me." Moving to the sink, his hair wet and sticking to his back, stopping near his lower back. "You can wash it now." I move towards the tub, grabbing the vanilla-scented shampoo and conditioner, a fresh brush placed on the sink counter.
"What will you do after this?"
Reaching past him and wetting my hands, before squeezing the shampoos into my palms as Ventura washed his face. I rake the product through his hair, going from the scalp and down. "You have asked for more than three."
"You keep answering."
He falls silent as I wash his hair, carefully avoiding the placement of his towel, doing my best to be gentle. My eyes rake along his back, it was smooth and soft as my knuckles grazed against it. His pale skin was like a blank canvas, with the only drawing being a unique row of nine small black dots that ran down his spine. They're tattoos. Not uncommon, but quite expensive. I stare at them, giving in to my urges, two of my fingers moving from the base of Ventura's neck and slowly running down his spine, counting each of the dotes.
A loud inhale and Ventura arching his back slightly, as if trying to get away. Before I could say anything, Ventura spun around, his hair splashing shampoo across the walls and mirror. He stared at me in disbelief, brows furrowed, as his face morphed from a pale white to slightly pink. It dawns on me, and I raise both of my hands, my face burning as I stared at the ground.
Ventura says nothing, inches toward me. A part of me thinks he's going to hit me, so I back up, nearly falling into the bathtub. The remains of the water, soaking my socks, my back pressed against the wet wall of the shower. "I'm-I'm sorry. It wasn't on purpose..."
He seems to ignore me as he moves towards me, entering the bath, leaving me without an exit. He stares at me with unreadable eyes, and I squeeze my eyes shut, as his right-hand grabs my face and forces me to turn towards him. He doesn't order me to open my eyes, but I feel his hot minty breath fan my face. My hands dart up, grabbing his arm.
He moves his hand, releasing my face, but not moving away. My heart hammers in my chest as I refuse to open my eyes.
"Do such a thing like that again," Voice low and threatening, his hands slowly ran up my side, moving from my waist up to my chest. My eyes fly open, just as cold lips pressed against mine.