The door closes and all of Anandi’s senses are heightened. First Marisol’s scent: musty and intriguing; warm feathers, warm flesh. Then the rest of the room: dusty pages, spilled ink, an ocean breeze sighing through the cracked window. In the enclosed space, every sound is amplified. The soft give and take of their breathing is heightened and rhythmic, like leaves brushing against each other in the swaying wind.
And of course there is the brief touch of skin, so light it could be imagined. (It isn’t.) And the emissary isn’t sure if it is a test, or a question, or a demand.
In such tight quarters she is keenly aware that Marisol was having the exact effect on her which she generally had on others. Throat tightening, pulse rising, face flushing.
“Oh, anywhere,” The words a hot knife. Andi’s skin, butter. “We can always start with the desk.”
For a moment her breath catches in her throat. It makes her feel like she might begin to float, until a moment later when the breath is released with a warm exhale and a big smile. Anandi quickly looks down and wipes the amused surprise from her face.
“If it pleases you, Marisol.” Her tone is a demure purr, eyes submissively cast down. It wasn’t her favorite part to play, but Anandi could do it. Marisol almost made it easy. Her eyes quickly glance upward.
You like it, don’t you? Being in control? You want to see a beautiful thing squirm. I think I know you, queen. I think we’re more alike than you realize.
“Shall we invite the Warden too?” The words are light as butterfly wings; not meant to sting, but to tickle. A test, or a question, or a demand
“Focus, Anandi.” The words ring softly in her mind. Anouk, sweet Anouk, her guide and compass.
She focuses, and all the girlish uncertainty is gone from her features in the blink of an eye. “Friends.” The word is like walking a tightrope. She smiles. This would be by no means boring. “I hope so too.” The tension is not by any means gone. If anything it sharpens and strains, pulling in different directions. She hides it well, but not perfectly, behind a relaxed posture, easy breathing, slow lazy blinks of the eye.
About that personal matter... she hesitates for only a moment before diving in. Might as well rip the bandage off. “As you might have realized, I’m a kelpie.” Surely Marisol at least suspected. Anandi was not terribly careful with her identity. Her expression then is less of a smile and more a baring of the teeth. Anouk, the dark wet stain spread across her underbelly, slides up her body to the side of her neck. Then he pulls himself into the air and floats, with a small bounce, as a small sphere of water by Anandi’s cheek. He looks at Marisol, as abstract a definition as look can be, for a long moment.
“Be careful, Anandi.” Fills the unspoken bond between them. She nods, almost imperceptible.
“I left behind sisters deep in the ocean. Family.” She watches the sovereign’s face carefully for any reaction. Did Marisol understand? Could she, in this big bright world filled with so many things? Anandi’s bonds were forged in the darkness, in the long wait between meals. To the kelpie princess, family was everything. “I’m going to bring them to the surface. I want to know if they can find safety in the ranks of Dusk Court, free from persecution for… what they are." What I am. "I can assure you, if you give them the opportunity, they have many skills you will find... useful.” Like Anandi was useful, or could be.
Her queen need only ask.
@
some say the loving and the devouring are all the same thing
☾
