Chapter 38

Seeing as the princess was fully awake and had no intention of returning to her peaceful slumber, Alixandre took that as his cue to leave. A groan crawled out his lips, his fingers haphazardly removed the spec from both eyes, while he placed his left foot first on the creaking wooden floor underneath.

With a scowl on his face he made for the door without once glancing at Elena, to check whether or not she truly was fine.

Fortunately-for her that is, the door slowly creaked open, earthy brown hair peered inside, locking eyes with a glaring young man, standing in the middle of the room.

Shirtless.

"Ah, thank goodness she woke up, I was just about to call for a physician." The voice belonging to a matured woman beckoned, pushing open the door to reveal her full figured self.

Elena shrank into the bed with her fingers tightly grasping the sheets draped over her thighs.

"I know it's a little early, but would you two care for some tea?" The woman proposed, her gaze never once leaving Elena.

"We won't be staying long enough for that, we're leaving." He snarled at the woman's hospitalist, earning a scoff from the woman behind him.

Elena sprawled out of bed, her thin legs wobbling like a young deer out in the thick winter snow for the first time. She marched up to Alixandre's side, a prideful aura exuding her with each firm step she took.

"Tea sounds like a fine idea." Elena worded.

"I said we're leaving." Alixandre interjected harshly, his rich baritone voice made the third party flinch.

Elena turned fully to look at him, her green orbs openly sized him up from head to toe, making him avert his eyes... nervously? Perhaps?

The princess smirked fully and turned to face their host, whom she hadn't cared to know her name yet.

"We'll both be staying for tea."

The woman looked to Alixandre for any form of defiance but found none, she brought her curled fist to her lips, stiffening an amused chuckle. She couldn't help but think that such an intimating man could be wrapped around such a dainty woman's fingers.

"I'll be back with some tea shortly." The host announced on her way out, Elena could hear the sound of steps descending a pair of stairs and could easily deduce that they were sleeping upstairs.

She pursued her lips, worried if the host and or any other inhabitants could hear what transpired between them both the previous night.

Alixandre stole a glance at Elena from the corner of his eye, at the back of his mind he couldn't help but compare the princess currently to a shell of her former self.

"His highness isn't too pleased with having an outspoken wife?" She observed, taking gentle strides towards the bed with what little strength she had left.

Which amounted to nothing, her wobbly knees gave way, sending Elena crashing down. She didn't even have enough time to exclaim for help as she fell ass first on the wooden floors.

Her husband growled, then stretched out his hand to her. "You forget that you're poisoned, stop moving around so much."

"It's fine, if I sit still for too long my mind starts to wander off to places I myself am unsure of." She retorted, ignoring his outstretched hand.

He retracted his grip and thought to himself that what she said made no sense, his dark eyes scanned the room thoroughly. A wave of relief washed over his face as his gaze zoned in on his shirt, laying idly on the open window, which filtered light into the room.

After a few tries, Elena was finally able to get on her own two feet, she sat at the edge of the bed, her palm rested on her stomach. The corners of her lips curled into a sadistic smile, she dry coughed to maybe get her husband's attention.

"Am I going to die soon?" The words casually spewed out her mouth without her notice, she furrowed her brows, cursing herself for thinking out loud.

"That depends solely on you." He said in a quiet tone while effortlessly slipping on his shirt, he turned to look in her general direction then said.

"We're already at Crimsoncreed." Alixandre informed her without so much as holding his stare on the princess.

Her features livened up, she made an attempt to stand but found it too difficult to do.

"I don't think I have enough strength for the trip, how ever am I going to accompany you?" Her tone was unclear, a sharp contrast to her open book personality.

Alixandre arched his brows then deflected his stare out the window, he felt uneasy and didn't like it one bit. It was as though he could sense looming trouble ahead.

*Downstairs*

Their host swiftly placed a hood over her head and made her escape through the kitchen back door, running like she was possessed by a devil. She made certain to not pass through their line of sight, even though it meant her taking a longer route.

She stopped in her tracks when she reached a small shop, which sign read...'Perchance Encounters'. The host looked both ways before pushing open the door, on cue the small bell hung at the entrance sounded, alerting the man standing at the ballion table of her arrival.

"What brings you here so early in the morning?" Asked the man behind the counter, a head taller than her, with wavy brown hair that rested at his shoulder tips.

The host marched towards him, she lifted up her hood, revealing herself to him.

"A woman." He noted with relaxed features.

"Is that a problem?" She sharply retorted.

"What will you be having?" He asked, steering away from that conversation, at first glance one might mistake this man to be a handsome male, with youthful charms.

It was only on closer inspection that one could note that he had matured features and a more refined charm attached to him. He looked like the sort of man who the world had mercilessly passed through, making him a seasoned veteran in the disciplines concerning the inner working of humans.

The host pulled out a red coin from in-between her breasts and slapped it hard on the counter, earning an 'Oh' from the other party.

He dropped the rag in his hand, "your luck just ran out, she just stormed out moments ago. I'm surprised you didn't catch her." His tone took a swift decline from it's light indifference to a serious minded one.

The woman pursued her lips, "it can't be helped can it? Perhaps you can accompany me back..."

"I'm take manning my post very meticulously, I advise you to come back at odder hours of the night. Then, business is in full swing." He advised, pouring her a cup of liquor.

"My religion prohibits me." She frankly said, pulling the hood over her head as she turned to leave. The host marched over to the door, but stopped at the beckon from behind.

It was the man behind the counter.

"Tell me." He called out, eyeing the liquor in his hands, swerving it around the walls of the cup, his expression hard to read.

"What?" She chewed him out for answers, desperate to return back to her 'treasure trove'

"Did you live a fulfilled life?" The brown haired man questioned, his tone an uneven mix of anguish and speculation, the former greater than the latter. As though he could tell by just one glance that her life held nothing more than countless betrayals and hate induced decisions.

"You must surely be mad in the head." She retorted with knitted brows, then with all fury yanked open the door and rushed out, kicking pebbles and sticks, cursing profusely on her way out.

No sooner after her departure had passed, than the sound of a door creaking open, coupled with the distinct clacking of beads against each other alerted the man of someone else's presence.

Without having to check, the all knowing look on his face pointed that he was well aware of the person's identity.

"What did you see?" She asked, helping herself to sit on the counter, a closed umbrella held tightly in her left hand. Her eyes darted to the half full cup of liquor and without sparing a second, she picked it up.

"Nothing short of a strained existence, bleak and barren of any true purpose to live. I'd give it a three short years till she goes a knocking on old death's proverbial door." He took a pause and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Then again, it might not be so abstract now would it? I believe she'd be knocking on your door if my prediction were to be accurate. Correct me if I'm wrong, Madame Cadaver?" He said with little enthusiasm towards the end of his speech.

The woman's lips flattened into an amused smirk, "no, you're contagiously right." Sierra replied then brought the liquor to her lips, emptying it all in one gulp.