A Dinner Date

Marcus knocked on the large wooden door to his mothers dining chambers.

He had an amused little smile playing on his lips as he called out to her through the door.

"Mother, it's Marcus. Are you ready for my company?"

He glanced back at Miriel as he waited for her answer.

Cierra looked regal as she perched up in her chair at the head of the table, she sat back in it, her head resting on her hand as she lazily gripped a glass of wine.

The knock at the door made her painted lips curl up at the corners.

"Come in."

She replied before taking another sip, licking her lips with a purr.

Marcus pushed open the door, holding it open for his slave to enter first.

The first thing Cierra would see was a slave wearing royal clothing. Not just royal colours; clothing that had been worn by a royal.

The Vampire followed soon after Miriel, letting the door swing shut behind him of its own accord.

Miriel looked up a Marcus sheepishly as the door was held open for him before stepping through it and walking in.

He avoided looking into Cierra's eyes, which narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"Why is he dressed in your old clothes?"

She asked smoothly, it was unsightly having a slave in royal attire.

"I disagreed with your choice of attire for your slaves," was Marcus' equally smooth answer as he strode across the room to perch on the seat at his mothers right hand side.

He kicked out the seat next to him for Miriel to sit in.

"And as I had little time to have a seamstress make attire for him, I thought it best to use clothes already at my disposal."

"I agree with your terminology, my slave, as such you have no right to dictate how I should dress him."

The Elf sunk into himself a little trying to avoid being made part of this conversation all together.

When the seat was kicked out he sat down hesitantly, he was dressed in royal garments and sitting at their table.

"Miriel go take that ridiculous outfit off and get back into your robe."

At that order Miriel got to his feet again and moved out from behind the table.

"Now, mother, this one belongs to me."

Marcus steepled his fingers and leaned on then, smirking at his mother as he leaned over the table a little.

"Slaveless, I went to the pantry to procure myself a new one to call my own. Naturally, I could pick any slave that resides in the pantry. I chose this one." Miriel wasn't a live-in for his mother, therefore he had every right to keep him.

"You have no right over him."

"You would take a slave that still bares the marks of someone else? How unsightly, even for you Marcus."

She tutted in reply, motioning for Miriel to sit back down, which he promptly did without a word.

"I have the only right over him. Little Miriel here was a show of fealty to me by the southern snow elf tribe. Without him I dare say our little agreement with that tribe will be compromised, and it would be a shame for the same ill fate to find them as it did their brethren in the west."

With that the breath caught in Miriel's throat as he looked up at the Queen in utter horror.

"He may not be a live-in, but he certainly is mine and his loyal will not wane, will it Miriel?"

She asked, a nasty little grin gracing her dark red lips.

"No your highness." He replied immediately, a phrase so practiced that he would have said it in his sleep if prompted.

Marcus arched a brow, his amused smirk still playing on his lips.

"I have read the documents of the treaty between us and them, Mother. I make a point to know every treaty we hold in intimate detail." Another reason why he would be a good king. His eidetic memory when it came to written words helped him greatly.

"And so the Snow Elf tribes of the South give one tribesman in good faith to the royal family of the country of Nalithia," he recited. His smirk darkened. "Royal family," he repeated. "They gave him to you as a show of fealty to our family, not to you specifically."

Marcus leant back in his chair, arching a brow in competition.

Check.

Cierra's smirk only widened as Marcus recited the treaty, so he had been paying attention.

"Very good."

She cooed, her condescending nature never wavering.

"However if his loyalties waver so easily from me to you what is that to say about the rest of his kind? We have very little use for those little snow fairies anyway."

She replied, taking a sip of her drink, they were the higher power here, if she said they died, they died.

Marcus chuckled as he leaned forwards again, plucking the wine glass from her dainty fingers and taking a sip of the wine himself.

"If it were anyone but myself that his loyalties had turned to, I would be worried myself. As it were, I believe he realised just who would make a better Master of the two of us." Marcus wasn't going to be nice right now. He wanted a scrap with her.

He wanted to push and push and watch her crumble and get angry.

"I'm growing bored with the conversation. This isn't why I requested a sitting with you. I wish to spend some time with my dear mother."

"Hmm."

Was Cierra's simple reply to his attempt at mocking her, she brushed it off quite easily before sitting back in her chair.

"Bored indeed, so lets change the subject, hows your dear Sigil adjusting to military life? Perhaps he will make a better live-in, to replace Miriel at my side."

She mused with a small chuckle.

"He is adjusting well."

Marcus' brows shot up, as if mildly shocked at her musings.

"You're as racist as they get, mother. You couldn't stand an Elf as a live-in. That's why I have this one as mine." He sipped her wine. "You couldn't stand the stink of an Elf living in your room full-time."

He set the glass down delicately. "I came to you to bring you news."

"You're right of course, though I have always wondered what he tastes like."

She replied with a little giggle as she thought about it for a little while longer.

Perhaps she would pay Sigil a little visit just to prove to Marcus what happens when he messes around with things that don't belong to him.

"And what news would this be?"

She asked, pouring herself a fresh glass and taking a deep sip.

Marcus offered his wrist to his mother.

"Taste him." Marcus had ingested so much of Sigil's blood that his own blood would taste heavily of the Elf's. Especially seeing as he had fed from him just a few hours ago. Sigil's blood would be strong within Marcus'.

"You have heard from the runaway child of the clan towards the borders, yes?" He didn't give her time to answer. "She and a cousin of hers are headed towards the city. They are of father's clan. The cousin, he has incredible fangs. Four, unfortunately, but those four are near enough to rival four of my own. I thought that might interest you."

Cierra's delicate fingers gripped Marcus' hand gently, bringing it to her lips as she pushed her fangs into his wrist.

A soft purr sounded as she swallowed the first mouthful, she could taste the Elf's blood mixed into her son's.

It was a strong flavor, masculine and rich.

"Tasty."

She purred as she pulled away, licking her stained lips with a little grin, that giant dirty Elf tasted better than she had expected.

"It is of interest to me, so much so in fact that I already have him."

A grin spread across her lips as she looked over toward the back entrance of the room.

"Graeme-kerr, would you be a dear and come here."

She called out, she had sent for the girl and the man hours ago, they had looked tired and hungry and she had promised them a room at the castle as well as food, a safe enough invitation given that they were Vampires and kin of her late husband.

"He is, isn't he?"

There was a reason he had put up with Sigil's abrasive personality in the beginning. His blood was absolutely delicious.

Already have him?

Marcus' eyes snapped up when the heavy cloth behind his mother rustled.

With arms crossed over a broad chest, the young Vampire leant against the stone archway, knocking the cloth out of the way.

"Ye called?" the man asked in his thickly accented voice.

"I take it since you're here alone Eva is already asleep."

The girl had looked exhausted when they had arrived, after weeks of travelling by foot and feeding Graeme when he needed it, the fatigue had taken hold.

Cierra had set the two of them up in one of their finest bedroom suites, so they could stay together, which was the girl's request.

"Please sit with us and have a drink, I hear that you've already met my son, Marcus."

"Flickered out before I even got blanket over 'er."

Eva was exhausted and Graeme-Kerr wanted her to get as much rest as she possibly could. Eva had been looking dead on her feet for days. A good long sleep would do her well.

Graeme-Kerr's green eyes turned to Marcus and he arched a brow.

He didn't move to take a seat at the table. Rightly so, he was on edge around Cierra. He didn't want to get too close to her.

"Poor thing, obviously not accustomed to life on the road."

Cierra knew of her family quite well, and of the fact that she had run away, though it was not in her best interests to send the girl back to her family, not when Graeme-kerr went where ever she did.

"If you're not feeling up to socializing you're more than welcome to return to her."

She added when he made no move to join them, she would win him over soon enough, if not she did have some leverage over him to get him to do what she wanted.

"Don't choke on ye expensive wine," were his parting words as he let the cloth fall in front of him and turned back to Eva.

Marcus gave a little snort, not doing anything to hide his grin.

"Still as charming as I remember."

"A little rough around the edges, not that I mind, it's not his personality that I am interested in."

She replied once the man had left, topping up her glass and taking another sip, she planned on enjoying it, everything was falling into place for her at the moment.

"It's Eva I have to keep happy, as long as she is around the little lamb will follow, much like Elleon and his little pet."

It was amusing how sentiment could end up damning two people instead of one.

"As long as you have access to what's between his legs."

Marcus gave a little hum as he took his own sip of wine. He missed fine wines. Kennedrick wasn't best known or brewing decent alcohol.

"She will give you plenty of trouble." The girl had annoyed him more than the coarse young Vampire that had just paid insult to them.

"How is our Oracle doing?"

"I know she will, a spirited young thing like that is bound to cause mischief."

Not that it mattered, deals could be struck easily enough.

"Slowly breaking down, I keep changing the room he is shut in so he is continuously disorientated and afraid, without his pet he really is blind in all sense of the word so I don't want him getting familiar with his surroundings, i'll use them against one another until he caves enough that he will have the visions I want him to see.

I'm sure the promise of reuniting them unharmed with be enough of a incentive for the soft hearted little thing to comply."

"Theres something about her that reminds me of you." She was an opinionated girl. Just like his dear mother.

Marcus gave a loud laugh. "So cruel you are."

His mother truly did have a mean streak a mile long.