The brunch table was adorned with vibrant dishes—delicate pastries such as beignets, zydeco cookies, sweet potato pie, and cobbler. Fresh fruit gleamed with droplets of water next to her on a cart, and steaming coffee filled the air with a rich aroma. Though she could only manage to stomach a bite of beignet for now.
Sunlight streamed through the expansive windows of the dining room, which was adorned with minimal decorations of her own—besides a small tree and a vinyl of a Jill Scott album. The barrier that surrounded the manor resembled a perfect day in the middle of spring, including the chirping of birds, the gentle rustle of the tree's leaves, and flowers blooming in brilliant colors outside. It was a facade of the tranquility she experienced in the countryside of the middle world, a stark contrast to the heartless demon still on one side of the table.
Dazriel's green eyes stared at her with disdain as Kapri sat at the head of the table, her white hair braided and pulled back into a bun that highlighted the serenity of her features—serenity that seemed to bother him. Her pastel blue sundress swayed against her thin legs as she shifted in her seat, the wedges on her feet weighing heavily as she tapped her foot against the floor in calm impatience. She sipped her ice water through the straw; the morphine coursing through her veins from the IV made her feel as if she were floating just above her chair.
Finally, Dazriel sighed, filling the silence as he leaned back against his chair, folding his arms over his chest. His navy vest sharply contrasted with the cheerful atmosphere surrounding her.
"You look like you need something," Kapri commented, lifting a powdered beignet to her lips. She bit into it, careful not to mess up her lip gloss. The sweetness was addicting, a taste she hadn't enjoyed in a while. She placed the pastry back onto the plate and licked her fingers.
His eyebrows raised as she sucked on her finger. "You are such a distraction," he said, his tone amused despite his serious demeanor. "This sunshine and those silly wedges—are you trying to play the part of a princess?"
Kapri raised her own eyebrows, throwing him a sharp glare. Wiping the remnants of the pastry off her hands, she replied softly yet steadily, "And what exactly do you want me to do, Lord Dazriel? Rip the sun from the sky? Kick the birds out of the trees? Or throw a tantrum to match your shitty mood?"
"Enough with the humor," he retorted, his gaze unwavering as she stared at him. "You know very well this isn't the time for jokes. My heart is out there, and while you're playing dress-up, I'm weak."
Kapri sighed, puzzled by his sudden change in mood when he had been so casual about his missing heart earlier. She guessed he realized the extent of what could happen, but his mood was bothersome to her, especially since she had just recovered from her own battles with life a few months ago.
The lightness in the air shifted, and a heavy chill enveloped the space, as if Dazriel's words had summoned a gust of darkness. She wished she could find amusement in how much of a baby he was being, but she felt a twinge of somberness creep in. Was she starting to care for him?
"Right," she agreed, her expression sobering as her fingers lingered on her glass. "Your heart is crucial to our status, Lord Dazriel. I'm sorry for my disposition."
Though she wasn't as apologetic as she sounded. She wanted to be left alone to her ice water and beignet after all.
Dazriel seemed to lighten up, sitting up straight. "That's right; you should not take your Duke's problem lightly, Baroness Kaprice," he said, a hint of condescension in his voice making her less motivated to help him.
"What do we know about the one who took it?" she asked, her fingers pressing together as if she were holding an invisible pencil. This helped her memorize information, especially when it was extensive.
Dazriel exhaled, taking a sip of his coffee before placing the cup back on the table, his gaze locking onto hers. She got a sudden image of a snow-white demon resembling a moth in her mind. "Countess Lirael may have taken it. She governs the county of Eludiría on the east side of Vexheim and was my most trusted advisor on matters of trade and diplomacy with the other Duke bastards."
She traced the information against the tablecloth, and Dazriel looked toward her curiously, though he didn't comment on her actions. Instead, he continued with his explanation. "She has a couple of lovers outside of Vexheim, so she may have conspired with them."
"I'm hearing a lot of 'may' and 'maybe,'" Kapri commented, now doubting the information he was giving her.
"I know what I'm talking about," he replied, folding his arms over his chest, exhaling in frustration.
Kapri frowned, her fingertips tracing the rim of her glass as she stared at him. With Dazriel, she wasn't sure what she was completely getting into anymore. "And again, why can't you investigate yourself, Lord Dazriel?" she asked. "Especially with someone who knows more about the political ins and outs of your business. I hardly know how to run a barony."
"Just do what I ask," he commanded, his authority shaking the house as he grew angered.
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion but didn't press him further.
"My heart is more than what your heart is for you humans," he continued, his mood stabilizing as if his outburst hadn't just happened. "It's a spool that holds a large amount of my SE. Whoever has it can practically do whatever the hell they want, even create Reapers and possibly manipulate the ones I created. Lirael could twist them to cater to her own ambitions and turn them against me or anyone under me."
Her eyes widened, realizing this meant danger for Jugo too. Dazriel chuckled, noticing her unease. "I love how you don't seem to care about much until it comes to that Reaper," Dazriel said, his hand finding its way onto her thigh beneath the table. "You're just too easy for me to control."
Kapri smiled despite herself. "Relax; I haven't gotten your heart back yet."
"Are you threatening me?" he asked, not entertained by her words as his fingers pressed into her thigh.
"Are you threatened?" she countered, and Dazriel pulled his hand away.
"Just get my heart back," he said, looking at her not with a threat against her life, but as if he was truly asking her. "I command you as your Duke."
"As you wish, Duke of Vexheim," she hummed, her tone teasing.
"Right now, I need you to visit Eludiría and the countess's home. Possibly find out about her lovers and figure out who else might have been involved. You have my permission to do whatever," he said, pressing his cheek into his palm. "Can you handle that?"
Kapri leaned back with a confident scoff. "Light work, Lord Dazriel."
"You can't take Jugo," he said, cutting through her bravado.
She hummed in disapproval.
"You want to risk him being turned against you? Could you even handle the thought of Jugo killing you if he were?" he chuckled. "Don't worry; you'll live. There isn't any unrest, and no one has noticed my absence… yet. So be diligent."
"Yeah," she said, her earlier confidence waning.
•••
Her mind race through a lot about what she was thinking today, and her main focus was on leaving Jugo behind. Though, five years have been quite a small part of her life, she just couldn't recall a time when Jugo wasn't beside her. Even when thinking about the past she imagines Jugo somehow lingering in the corners of significant events he wasn't there for.
It felt almost eerie that she does this, yet she was much too embarrassed to tell anyone about it. Especially Dazriel, who she knew would have laughed at him and make it knowledge to others. She sighed, as she sat near her vanity while she quietly packed her bag for the possible extra days she would be in that county. There was no need to make anyone aware of the fact she was leaving, and especially raise question that will lead to the fact Dazriel was weakened.
After ensuring essentials were tucked away, she zipped her suitcase. She lightly pat her palm on top of it, really not wanting to leave Jugo behind. She sighed somber once again before she turned around, nearly startled by Jugo sitting at the edge of her bed as he placed his palm on her pillow.
"Your pillow is cold," he commented monotonously, looking as if he hasn't caught any sleep yet. "You haven't been in bed yet?"
Kapri stood up, and she turned to block the view of the suitcase. She looked around trying to think up of something to say as explanation for why she wasn't resting.
"I was going to," she replied softly, she didn't have much of a heart to lie to Jugo. Especially in the confines of just the both of them.
He flicked his wrist, gesturing to come towards him. Unconsciously, she did as he asked, as she always done when she first joined LDRA and came to Garoth. She slowly walked over to him, not wanting him to see the suitcase as she did.
In front of him, she stood still as she looked down at his impassive face. Never had it aged a bit since then, but she was sure he noticed small signs of aging on hers. She wondered if he would miss her when he continued existing while she is gone.
Jugo lifted his head up, his dark eyes without a glint of life, only his beating heart and the growth of his hair resembling it. She wasn't sure if the life of a reaper meant they were alive at all.
His hands hovered over her legs, and up her body before it laid just on her spine near her lower back. The curvature of her body minimal, now that she lost so much fat on her body. Of course, she knew he noticed that.
"You're still so thin," he commented with flat tone, as he pulled her closer until his chin was pressed slightly against her chest.
"Yes, but I'll get my weight up before you know it," Kapri reassured him, she laid her forearm against his shoulder feeling the warmth from his yang engulfed her.
His fingertip pressed against each vertebrae on her spine. The fabric of her silk nightgown swished underneath his calloused palm, and it slightly lifted it up her thighs. Kapri reached behind her back, her hand laid on top of his fingers. They felt unusually hot against her skin.
"Then why are you going to Eludiría when you're aware you're not healthy?" he whispered, his breathe was sweltering against her chest.
A sigh exuded from her lips, as she fell against his shoulders. She didn't even have to ask how he knew, knowing it was probably due to Dazriel's mouth. Does he want to make her mission to save his heart harder than it should be?
"I didn't want you to worry," she admitted softly. "Or stop me."
Jugo pulled his head back. "I can't get worried," his voice cold and muffled against her. "I just have an obligation to ensure your survival; in your state, being without me is…atypical."
She chuckled softly, as she touched the nape of his neck. "You have not worry. I'm going with three members of my squad."
"Yet, neither has been able to wrestle your soul like I have," he retorted.
"Where I'm going, I wouldn't need my soul wrestled back into my body this time," she said. "Especially with a highly skilled private, corporal, and even a sergeant. That's more than enough for just going to get information then coming back."
Jugo hummed in doubt. "And what if it becomes you four against an entire county? What if Count Lirael isn't the only threat?"
"We'll be careful, and the first time we sense danger, we'll retreat," she continued. "I promise I'll come back alive."
Jugo paused, his fingera along her spine stilled as if he were considering her words. "Very well," he said, his voice no different from how he always spoke. "Remain vigilant. Your survival and safety is paramount."
Kapri raised an eyebrow at a change in what he said. "My safety? Usually you'll just say survival," she teased lightly. "Nice to hear a change in pace."
He tilted his head slightly in response. "You will need to return safety to fulfill your duties afterall."
"Right," she said displeased by his response, though she doesn't fault him. This is the way reapers were created to be unfeeling, and quite cold. "Just focus on your own heart, or Count Lirael just might snatch it."
"She's not a boogeyman," Jugo shook his head.
Kapri chuckled as she stepped back, his fingers lingered on the edge of her nightgown. She looked down at his fingers still holding it. "What? You look like you want me to stay close to you."
"Yes, to ensure you stay alive." he said.
"I won't die standing just six feet from you," she tilted her head to the side. "Is it you want to hold me, Jugo?"
Jugo folded his arms over his chest. His expression never changing. "Not of my own desire, but because you're highly more likely to survive than standing there and getting cold."
"I suppose you're right," she chuckled as she laid against his chest, and his hand came up to embrace her. "I promise to be back before you know it. Just try not to miss me too much."
"I won't," he replied, he chin lying on top of her head as he held her against him. To ensure her chances of a likely survival, of course.