R E I C H E N B A C H
Dusk had defences even the King of Thieves struggled to sidestep, slipping like a shadow through the early hours of the morning to find his girl. That dainty woman made of honey and lilac, so strong she was able to control his emotions — set his great heart thundering, turn his already hot blood to boiling. Florentine, the new Queen of the Dusk Court. The fact that his lover was now the Queen of an opposing court had not been whispered into the Night King's ear, his silver gaze hadn't swept over a scroll informing him of the change — he was blind to all things Florentine, blind but to gaze at her honey gold curls and the smile that made him inexplicably happy. So, foolish as he was, Reichenbach slid into Florentine's old room with a coy smile. He exuded mischief and power, gliding into the room silently and smoothly, the only tell of his presence being the faint scent of woodsmoke and jasmine. Shadows began to dance and flicker around him as he drew further into the room, excitement setting them into motion. It was a new magic, this strange connection to the shadows, something he had shrugged off as Calligo's tampering, refusing to look further into the phenomenon for fear that he would not like what he found if he did. Reichenbach paused, his long lashed eyes narrowing through the murky darkness — Florentine was not there. Without intending it, his heart skipped a beat, a low burning beginning within his chest. If she was not in her room in the early hours of the morning, where was she? Frowning, Reichenbach tried not to dwell on the absence, slipping back out of the room with a soft tinkling of coins. He peered down the hall, at a loss, if only for a moment. @ |
