The sound of footsteps were not terrifying. Or at least they weren't supposed to be but Emilia Vanis had managed to make the whole room tremble with each passing of her foot. As though she were a walking earthquake. The chandeliers shook like the boughs of trees in a storm. The wine flutes trembled like newly born fawns. The walls themselves shook as her magic riled up the room.
Helena stood tall in front if him, her boa hissing in complaint at the disruptions but Sylas was hardly comforted. He's heart felt as though it had been bewitched into a hummingbird, fluttering in his ribcage in a desperate attempt to escape. And maybe that would be best really. Because Emilia's gaze didn't speak of mercy and he feared a painful death stood in his near future.
Those blue eyes barely blinked, her gaze a tangible thing, reaching out in an attempt to strangle him. He shuddered as she came to pause in front of Helena. The two woman took each other in, in the manner one observed a rotting corpse.
For a moment he felt horribly guilty and then he quickly burnt that thought to the ground. How was any of this his fault. Yes, he'd tried to take over his father's kingdom. Yes, he'd committed treason. But this situation right here. This was not Sylas-approved. He'd attended a birthday party, that was it. That's where his willing intervention in this matter stopped.
Emilia jutted her chin out. She had a full set of armour on, the helmet resting under her arm. She was glowing. All light where Helena was all shadow. She bowed slightly, her armour pieces clinking against each other. "Princess Helena, it's an honour to make your acquaintance."
She rose, her blue eyes still focused on Sylas but she wasn't looking at his eyes. She was looking at his mouth. He flushed.
Helena looked between the two of them with a raised brow. A small frown began to pollute her features. Her tone was icier than a hostess was allowed, "Hero Emilia. To what do I owe the late arrival."
"I've come bearing well wishes for your birthday milady. I would've arrived sooner but I had actual duties to attend too. Being a hero leaves little time for pleasantries and parties. As I'm sure you're aware."
A vein in Helena's jaw began to pulse erratically. Her eyes squinted in displeasure and it was clear her patience was thinning. She used an wave of her arm to gesture to the ballroom, "All is forgiven, Lady Vanis. Please enjoy the party."
Emilia doesn't move, her body solid and strong. Helena's boa dances between her feet but she doesn't spare it a glance. And the reptile cannot move her over an inch no matter how it pushes and writhes.
"Is there a problem?" Helena questions flatly.
Emilia only smiles politely. "I believe you have something of mine."
The room has gone silent and every person has paused to stare at the exchange. Sylas is suddenly aware of what it feels like to be stuck in the middle of a typhoon and a hurricane. The winds pulling and pushing at either end. A total spectacle. The introvert in him dies a little.
"Yours?" Helena remarks. Her tone almost feverish. She sound sick and furious all at once. As though she's trying to decide whether to vomit or punch the blonde woman.
Sylas decides to be a fool in that moment. He'd rather be known as a fool to the court than a piece of meat. Imagine the rumours. He's mother would be so proud of him.
He steps in between the two of them, trying to hide how badly his legs are shaking. "Yes," he mumbles out softly. "Emilia has asked me to give her a tour of Zewitch and their customs. In hopes to not offended. It's her first time to the province."
Helena glances between them suspiciously but the tension in her shoulders eases and the smile returns to her face. "I did not release you two were acquainted."
Sylas laughs, a dreadfully fake sound but it draws Helena's attention away from Emilia and back to him. "My father's found the dullest forms of punishment for my recent actions. He must still be somewhat fond of me. He's decided babysitting would do me more harm than a dungeon."
Helena smiles truly now. Fond memories coming to her mind. "I suppose that makes sense. You're always plotting when left unattended."
"Yes well, bright minds love solitude, as they say."
Emilia grabs at his wrist and he flinches hard. "I apologise for any unintended rudeness, my lady. The cultures are so different amongst the royal folk."
Helena beams, waving her off politely. "It's no matter. Sylas will catch you up in no time. I've always considered him most engaging."
The grip on his wrist turns painful. "Yes. I suppose he is."
Sylas gulps harshly.
The king clinks he's glass several times and all heads turn to the podium where he sits.
"Excuse me," Helena states, pressing a soft kiss to Sylas cheek before heading off to her father. He addresses the crowds and begins his celebratory speech. Everyone rushes forward to occupy more of his space.
But Emilia holds onto him and as soon as the bodies block their line of sight to the royal family she's dragging him out of the ballroom and away from the crowds.
Sylas heart hammers in his chest and he glances back one more time. Wishing for salvation. Where was his bloody sister. She's the reason he's in this mess in the first place.
Once they're outside the ballroom Emilia shoves him harshly against the wall, his skull aches and his vision sparks. She barricades him with her arms, their heavy weight making the wall behind him shudder.
She crowds into him and his whole body shivers. She's so close he can feel her magic thrumming into him. He's skin pinks and prickles at the sensation.
Her eyes are half open and ravenous. She's thirsty as she gazes down at him. One of her knees sweep between his legs and he whines at the pressure. She lifts him up slightly and he outright pants against her. It hurts and yet all his blood is rushing south. He's light-headed
Her hair falls over his shoulders and he grabs at the plates that make up her chest guard. She brings her lips to his ear. "I hope you're ready for your punishment."
He whines in apology.