“Democrit, the Capital of Dralarag, is an existence that defies reason for many a traveler that happened to venture out into the fire red lands on the west of the World. A seemingly chaotic conglomeration of buildings, a glimpse of order made by the presence of the Demonic Royal Palace and the Fire Church, the architectural design of Democrit lends itself to picturing the haphazard design of everything that shouldn’t work together somehow managing to uphold a working city, even inspiring some tranquility should you decide to look deeper into its core.”
̶ Palaces of the World, High Chieftain Ton’Darros Graphat, 770 AS
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How big is this house? The interiors look no smaller than the ones of our home, with the enormous difference being the various paintings on the walls. This place has so many of them, but I can discern several frames being burned and damaged, as if a fire has spread across that particular portion of a room. I wonder if that could be Cerolus’ way of disposing of things he doesn’t want to see anymore. The thought sends a small shudder across my skin, an image of bloodied Cerolus from the time we were travelling in Leonia flashing into my eyes. He hasn’t shown that side of him after that, it made it easy to seemingly forget.
The mansion oozes the antiquity I have felt at the Palace of Frital. It is a weird feeling, discerning that a building is old just from the way it smells, the way walls are lit or how the torches are spread. It doesn’t feel wrong or bad, quite the opposite actually. A brief longing for my home hits me as I walk across the torch lit hallway, clinging to Cerolus’ back as if holding for dear life. He doesn’t seem to make any notice of my hands clutching his coat, his attention brought onto stringing sentences together, most likely aimed at me.
I try to compose my thoughts and keep my mind focused on listening to him.
“... and tomorrow we are going to the Palace… Are you listening to me?” Cerolus suddenly stops and looks back at me, the turning of his torso releasing his coat from my grasp.
I can only give what I could describe as a blank look if I could see myself in a mirror now, only providing an answer in form of a nod.
Cerolus just laughs the situation off, apparently realizing the walls would’ve made a more attentive audience in the past few minutes.
“Well, never mind. Let’s just eat and take you for a quick tour of the house. We’re expected in the Palace tomorrow, and you need a more fitting dress should you go there.”
I look below, trying to see what about my dress is inadequate of a royal appointment.
“What is wrong with it?” I can’t seem to notice anything wrong, as this would be anything but inappropriate apparel at a Palace I know.
“It’s not red or black. The dresses have to be of either one of those two colours.”
Cerolus’ answer is nonchalant, as if having a black dress is the commonest of all things in the World.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? It’s just like that. Some Maorok decided to make formal women’s dress have to be black or red. Besides, I think you’d look good in those colours. I personally would like to see you in a dress like that.”
Stolen novel; please report.
Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try, if anything just to appease him. I guess.
“Is that a smile I see?” Cerolus’ knowing smirk flushes heat into my cheeks and immediately makes my head try to point anywhere but in his direction. “Well I guess that means you don’t hate the idea, at least. I’ll have your dress brought tomorrow, I’m pretty sure we brought one in the carriage.”
He had a dress already made for me? Did he already plan for this in advance? How soon did he actually start preparing for the travel? When did he start preparing for our life together? I refused to believe any notion of the marriage itself up until a month before it happened, and I had no plans further than the ceremony. Was I fooling myself somehow? Now that I have spent some time with him, would I have willingly done it if given the chance?
Cerolus interrupts my thoughts by pointing out a table spread in front of us.
“Let’s have some dinner, as you must be hungry by now.” Cerolus takes one head of the table, the other side already prepared for a diner to sit on.
A brief recollection of our first meal together comes as I sit across from his, the black wooden table placing a few feet of food filled plates between us. The racket of cutlery permeates the air, as we eat illuminated by the torches hung around the walls, a lack of a bright gem bringing a sudden sense of longing.
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Bath water flows beneath my back, the warmth spreading around my body, the water seemingly seeping into my pores and washing away my thoughts, my mind remaining empty. I could actually practice magic here maybe. I try to put a thought in my mind to save it for a latter occasion. Asking Cerolus about that particular training method seems like a good idea to do for a start.
I bring myself out of the bath, the unfamiliarity of my surroundings making me clutch my towel closer to my body, as if something dangerous could come into a room.
My night gown safely on my body, I wade through the darkness of the hallways to the bedroom Cerolus pointed out to me before I took my bath, Tiana staying close to me with a torch of her own. The house is noticeably darker, and that can’t be attributed to my unfamiliarity of it.
The doors to the room open, the large bedroom spreading before me. The bed is a lot more ornate, the black wood prominent in every piece of furniture in this house. A large windows provides a glimpse of the Trebinor as it crosses the darkened sky above us, an endless blackness of roofs intertwined with small lights of the windows sprawls below the horizon.
The walls are empty save for a painting taking a small amount of space on the wall next to a mirror. The painting itself is burned off the frame, only charred black remaining across a vast majority of the canvas.
Cerolus walks into the room, silently lying down into the bed, his red skin melding with the colour of the sheets spread below him. The warmth of the air here makes any cover unnecessary, as I lie down next to him, his large hand pulling me just a bit closer to him.
The darkness of the room slowly edges towards me, but deep within I feel safe like this.
“Good night Cerolus.”
His nose nuzzles through my hair and his breath tingles the back of my neck, as I slowly go to sleep.