"I had no clue a rich pretty boy like you could've done this..." smiled Mavislin.
"I have long hair myself, so it would be quite foolish of me not to know how to care for it. I've also noticed that your hair seems a bit neglected, but I suppose that's to be expected," replied the Viceroy.
"But why do this? As you've mentioned, I am your prisoner yet you treat me like a guest... I'm getting mixed signals..."
Mavislin noticed that Zenos was done as he grabbed a nearby bucket, dumping the poor girl to rinse off the soap.
"Would you rather I bound you to my bed and torture you?" murmured Zenos, gently nipping the dragoness' ear.
"No..."
"Then do not question me about my ways."
Mavislin pouted as she craned her neck to look at the blonde, studying his facial features and to check if he was lying. Only to be met by a smirk.
"You would find that I am not lying in my statement. I plan to care for my most prized trophy..."
"Even though I could just kill you now?"
Zenos fell silent as he cupped the girl's left cheek, gingerly running his thumb on her soft lips.
"I know that you can't, especially since you need me for this upcoming mission."
The dragoness pouted, turning her head away in defiance. Her eyes, however, betrayed her concern as they drifted to a fresh scar marring Zenos' side. She couldn't hide the apprehension and worry flickering in her gaze.
Noticing her shift in focus, the Prince of Darkness chuckled softly, the sound of a low rumble that resonated between them.
Mavislin's frown deepened, but her concern remained evident, tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her best efforts to appear indifferent.
"Worried about it? Don't be, it does not bother me at all. However, it is time to get ready for bed, I would say..." answered the Viceroy as he carefully lifted the girl off from her place and stood up.
Mavislin merely stood up and turned her back on Zenos as he got out of the bath.
"You shouldn't trust someone as dangerous as me," said the dragoness, standing still.
"I am equally as dangerous, yet you fell into my arms after battling the Fontaine Couple," replied Zenos, as he put on his sleeping robe.
Mavislin remained silent, offering no response as she transformed into her smaller, more compact form. With a flutter of her wings, she flew towards her towel, wrapping herself snugly in its soft fabric.
As the evening wore on, the two settled down to sleep, the quiet between them lingering. Mavislin curled up on her pillow, her tiny frame barely making a dent in the fabric.
Despite the comforting surroundings, she stayed quiet, her back turned to Zenos, her mind still occupied with thoughts she couldn't quite voice. The faint glow of her scales dimmed as she closed her eyes, her silence speaking louder than any words could.
"Are you going to sleep in your tiny form?" questioned the Viceroy, gently stroking her back once again.
"Yes, because I'm afraid my nightmares might disturb you in your slum-"
Her words were abruptly cut off as the Prince of Darkness, without warning, reached out and grabbed the unsuspecting dragoness. With a swift motion, he dropped her onto his bare chest, leaving her stunned and breathless.
Mavislin's tiny form sprawled against him, her scales brushing against his warm skin. She blinked up at him in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden move, while Zenos simply smirked, amused by her flustered reaction.
"What are you... Oh I give up," said Mavislin, defeated and wanting to go to sleep.
Zenos chuckled softly as he watched the grumpy dragoness gradually succumb to sleep on his chest, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the comforting thump of his heartbeat.
As her breaths evened out and she drifted into dreamland, he carefully lifted her, placing her gently onto the pillow beside him before allowing himself to follow her into slumber.
Morning arrived sooner than expected. Zenos blinked awake, only to find Mavislin sitting at the foot of the bed, clad in her night dress, her back turned to him. A palpable tension hung in the air, a wave of unrest blanketing the room.
Zenos frowned, replaying the events of the previous night in his mind. Had he said something that upset her? Or maybe his bold advances during their bath had crossed a line.
He watched her, uncertainty gnawing at him as he considered how to approach the fragile silence between them.
"What's wrong?" asked the Viceroy, stretching to accommodate for last night's stiffness.
"My younglings have returned. And brought a nice little sketch of the new battlegrounds we are after. I think it might be to your fancy, Viceroy," said Mavislin, waving a roll of paper.