Continued // @fallesto
“Oh! I didn’t mean to suggest you were afraid. I simply expected, given your reputation, Your Highness, that you would have already ordered your men to seize me.” – after all, Aerion collected curiosities, and she was one unlike any he had ever encountered – “Still… I do appreciate the restraint.” – she teased him lightly, amusement curling at the edge of her voice. Respect was hardly something one expected from a man like him, yet there was something unexpectedly refreshing in the way he hesitated to voice his darker impulses aloud.
Nunnally stepped closer and, for no particular reason beyond her own whim, let her fingers drift over the intricate embroidery of his elegant attire. The prince looked almost unfairly pretty. Like a soft creature one wanted to provoke just to see if it would bare its teeth; a white rabbit, perhaps, or a long-haired cat with claws hidden beneath silk. Would he be enraged if she said it aloud?
A sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing, stirring her hair until strands brushed against his face. The green fabric of her dress fluttered with it, revealing fleeting glimpses of pale, graceful legs before settling once more around her.
“You’re impressed?” – she asked, tilting her head – “But by what exactly, Prince Aerion? And please, don’t insult me by saying my beauty. It’s such a tired compliment. If that was your intention, think of a better lie quickly.” – she paused only long enough for a quiet chuckle – “I’ve been called beautiful far too many times to care.”
Her gaze lingered on him, sharp despite the soft smile.
“Of course I know your name. Why wouldn’t I? Everyone whispers stories about the mad prince who dreams of wings. But that alone doesn't make you worthy.” – her lips curved faintly – “Only… interesting.”
Turning away, she lowered herself beneath the great tree, settling into the grass. The moment her pale fingers brushed the earth, flowers bloomed in clusters around her; as though the ground itself yearned to please her touch. Whether it was deliberate spectacle or merely the nature of her magic, it was impossible to tell.
“You are terribly confident.” – she mused – “So certain of yourself. Already speaking as though I belong to you…” – her eyes flickered back to him, bright with amusement – “Calling a fae a ‘pretty little thing’ is more than boldness. It is recklessness.” – she smiled, and there was no real irritation in it. If anything, she seemed entertained.
“But recklessness suits you, Prince Aerion.... Anything less would be unbearably dull.” – Nunnally leaned back slightly against the tree trunk, flowers swaying around her in the breeze – “Why don’t you come sit beside me?” – she said softly – “And tell me what it is you truly want? Or better yet, tell me what you would offer me in return, if I granted that singular wish you seem to crave so desperately.”
Her gaze drifted over him once more, lingering deliberately on his eyes.
“And did I mention? I rather like the color of your eyes...” – her smile deepened – “Though they become even more beautiful when I see greed in them… Desire.” – she traced her finger idly across her lower lip – “Greed is such a powerful thing. Perhaps the most dangerous thing in this world.” – her eyes lifted to meet his. Blue and violet almost mixed together. – “Tell me, prince…” – she murmured – “Are you greedy?”