Throwing his sword on the floor, Corvin met Iris's burning gaze. Most certainly a strange way to court the woman he claimed he fancied.
Nodding, he inhaled. Perhaps acknowledging her fighting spirit. Or her desire to seek retribution for being wronged. Most certainly, he didn't think he'd done anything wrong that night. He was pretty clear, about who he was.
Shrouded in silence, Corvin and Iris stared at each other. One was furious enough to scorch entire fields with her gaze. The other, was difficult to tell since his eyes roamed all over her features.
" I decide when you die. For now, you are my prisoner," Corvin's decision was a slap in the face. An invisible one. Past and present collided. A twisted fate. After all the effort, and sacrifice. She'd made an oath to reforge the Southlands. Iris found herself enslaved by a troglodyte, no less.
" Just end me and be done with it," Iris raged and lunged for the blade once more. A nimble lunge, but Corvin, despite his towering figure, with his long legs reached the blade before Iris could grab it.
" Your chamber...Show me where is it?" Corvin grabbed Iris's arm and pulled her up to stand before him.
" I don't have one," Iris breathed out the words," I burned the dead and left to spread the word in the Southlands," She replied in a quiet voice, wincing at Corvin's tight grip on her.
" Will find one, in this wretched place. The witch sure did a number on this place," He said as he glanced around, at the tattered tapestry hanging off the walls. Blood-stained chairs, cushions, and upholstery on the small armchairs. The blood-stained floors weren't in a better condition either. Blood spattered windows, and doors decorated the entire hall.
" A sight for sore eyes," Corvin quipped as he nudged Iris towards the door behind the throne.
" Let's see what's in here," His grip on her didn't loosen as he pushed her past the threshold of the war room.
" We don't need this right now. Will explore this later. Maybe once I've chained you to my wrist. You have a death wish, and I like my women alive and kicking, " He quipped as they ambled across the throne room, as whispers trickled through the ajar door.
" Let me go," Iris snapped, tugging on her arm to free herself.
" No..." Corvin locked eyes with the maids that awaited them with their heads bowed. Perhaps in a show of reverence. Most likely out of fear. Corvin's towering figure among the southerners was easy to spot from a distance. Nor easy to overlook or to ignore. After all, he'd become the new ruler of Hessia.
" A clean room," His commands were simple and brief. Like most northerners, his bristly nature was somewhat off-putting. An acquired taste over the ages. Perhaps if he'd kept his mouth shut and wouldn't speak at all, those around him would find him, a little more pleasant. Bluntness overshadowed his well-chiselled features.
" First door on the right," One of the older maids answered pointing him in the right direction.
Nodding, Corvin nudged Iris to move," Bring food and clean clothing," He said over his shoulder to the maids who watched them disappear around the corner. Years spent in the wild among grubby tents, sleeping on a mat in the cold of the North had reforged, the man that perhaps at one point was kind, even good.
" I will never share a bed with you," Iris hissed when Corvin pushed the door to one of the many bedrooms in Sometreken Castle.
It wasn't much but at least it was clean. It needed everything. Even Ironstone fared better than Sometreken.
" I don't think you understand how war works," Corvin countered, nudging Iris towards the bed. It wasn't a gentle nudge, nor it was forceful. Merely establishing hierarchy.
" You don't get a say," He added, kicking off his heavy boots. A white-haired woman, once powerful enough to wield the elements, and have an entire realm bow to her. Now, had become acquainted with cruelty of the kind she'd been trying to help. The sisters were truly wicked.
" I will kill you in your sleep," Iris threatened, barring her teeth, feral. A meek attempt to hold onto the last shred of power that she'd once held. A power that wanned over the years without her even realising that it was happening.
" You're welcome to try," Corvin replied, unhinged by the threats made. Empty threats. Considering her weakened state and the fact she was merely a mortal. Just like any other human, birthed in seven seas. Her ancestry held no weight any longer the day she'd decided to pass on her powers to Azra. The son that had chosen to unburden his mother. To fulfil a dream. A dream that now was long lost. A well-intended gesture that paved the path to her demise. A path she walked on with slow painful steps.
The ensuing silence was heavy, blanketing the room in a stifling thick air. Eyes locked on each other, neither caving under the pressure. The conquered and the conqueror. One might debate that there wasn't much to conquer in the first place. It wasn't a battle. Not in the least. The remains of an already ruined kingdom, merely pretending or clinging to former glory. A kingdom that has forgotten days of old, and welcomed a new age and destruction with open arms. A nightmare dressed as a dream.
" Come in," Corvin beckoned when the knock on the door came. A shy maid wearing a tattered brown uniform, paired with a yellowed apron slipped inside, carrying a tray with a few dishes. Not much, but sufficient to settle a grumbling stomach.
" You're weak. Eat. Your strength is dwindling," Corvin said as he laid the table for them, dismissing the maid with a wave.
" You should tell them that you are their new ruler," Iris said as she climbed higher on the bed.
" I'm not interested in ruling anything," Corvin replied, as he grabbed Iris by her legs and dragged her to the edge of the bed.
" Table. Now." He commanded, steady, simple.
" I'm not hungry," The grumbling stomach betrayed her, speaking for her, " Then why are you here?" It was a pointless question. One that had been already answered. But even so, it seemed that had fallen on deaf ears.
Unwilling to waste another breath, Corvin slipped his hands under her arms, picked up Iris and plopped her on the chair.
A few moments later, he shoved a spoonful of vegetable broth under her nose, along with a chunk of stale bread.
" I will force it down your throat if I have to," The warning in his tone made Iris open her mouth, slurp the soup, and take the spoon out of his hand, along with a chunk of bread.
They ate in silence, each minding their food. Perhaps too hungry, and too tired to spew venom at each other.
An unexpected turn of events, woven into their destinies. An unforeseeable future of an unlikely partnership that most likely would never succeed. Or worse, end with someone's blood soaking the ground.