Perhaps humans had colour-changing hide? I’d met other races with such a feature. I raised my free hand, drawing a fingertip along her cheek. Her pulling and struggling ceased instantly. Her eyes went wide – so wide I could see that the golden-brown part in the centre was actually a circle, with white all the way around. Strangely enough, the black of her eye also seemed much more pronounced than it had been outside. Swallowing up the warmth. Colour changing eyes as well? To what purpose?
“What is the meaning of this? Your shifting skin and eyes?” I asked, drawing my finger along the hollow of space below her left eye. Her skin shocked me with just how soft and delicate it was, plush and supple, blooming heat beneath my touch.
I knew asking her questions was pointless right now. But I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to understand her, and by extension, the humans who’d invaded my world. She did not answer with words. She merely trembled for a moment, staring at my face. Then, her lips flattening into a grim line, she raised her hand and knocked my finger away.
I let her do it, having found no answers in my exploration of her cheek. When my finger dropped, her hand flattened against the side of her face, pressing against the places I’d touched her. As if trying to shield herself from further touches. Or trying to press comfort upon a wound.
Had that simple touch hurt her? Stone of the sky, humans were even weaker than I’d thought.
I made a conscious effort to loosen my grip on her upper arm. Just in case.
I did not have more time to dwell upon the human’s physical fragility. A sudden clatter of movement upon the stairs drew the woman’s attention along with my own.
“Sionnach preserve me! Is that... Is that you, Lord Wylfrael?”
A young Sionnachan woman stood upon the stairs, her upper half in shadow, as she’d halted, presumably due to shock, partway down where the firestone light only reached her legs.
“Yes,” I replied in the Sionnachan tongue. “I’ve returned.” Far later than I meant to...
“Oh... Oh, my! Shoshen! Shoshen!”
The Sionnachan woman bounded back up the way she’d come, her bushy tail a furred orange flash, continuing to call for someone I assumed was named Shoshen. A muffled, questioning reply came from somewhere up above, to which she barked, “The lord’s returned, you great bumble wit! Get down here at once!”
The commotion we’d brought had now clearly extended to the upper floors, as I heard the distinct sound of something dropping and smashing, followed by a string of panicky curses. A back-and-forth conversation ensued before two sets of Sionnachan feet in slippers began making haste down the stairs. The two stopped before me, panting slightly.
“Forgive me, my lord,” said the young woman. She flattened her pointed orange ears – ears so similar in shape to my own – in a show of deference. A quick whack of her tail against the other Sionnachan’s bottom had him flattening his ears as well.
“Yes, forgive us, Lord Wylfrael,” said the other Sionnachan, a young male who looked like he’d just entered adulthood. He seemed slightly younger than the woman with him. “We were not... Ah. We were not expecting you.”
“Nor was I expecting you,” I replied.
“Of course,” the woman said, her ears returning to their upright position. “When you were last here, the Mistress of Affairs would have been...”
“Yllsha,” I supplied. The absence of Yllsha, and Notto, and every other Sionnachan I’d known in this castle, pressed down on me like a physical weight. I was immortal. I had watched Sionnachans with their mortal blink of a lifespan die before. I’d lost many loved ones during my life, including my own parents. But I’d been there for those deaths. I’d presided over the Sionnachan death ceremonies. I’d gotten my chance to say goodbye. But this? It did not feel like Yllsha and the others were dead. It felt as if they’d just... Vanished. And that if I waited long enough, they’d walk through the kitchen door into this very hall, Yllsha reprimanding Notto and Notto grinning his cavalier grin.
It disoriented me. Yllsha and Notto still felt very much a part of my current life. But to these two before me, they were faceless ghosts of history.
“I am Aiko, my lord. I am the current Mistress of Affairs. This is my younger brother, Shoshen, Master of the Grounds. Yllsha and Notto are our ancestors.”
“Both of them?” I asked, surprised. I wondered if the human registered the shock in my tone of voice, because I felt her gaze snap to me from the side.
“Yes, my lord,” answered Aiko.
“They were our great great great... Forgive me, Lord Wylfrael, I do not know how great they were,” Shoshen said. “But they were our very far-back, very great grandparents.”
A soft chuckle escaped from my lips. The human jerked in my grasp, as if the sound had burned her.
“So those two finally gave in and married, then,” I said, the shadow of a smile still playing about my lips. I sorely wished I had been there for the wedding, and to meet their children and grandchildren. But this helped – meeting Aiko and Shoshen. Now that I looked closely, I could see some of Yllsha’s sharp yet warm competence in Aiko’s firmly raised chin. And though he seemed more timid than I’d known his ancestor to be, Shoshen had an echo of Notto’s mirth in his eyes.
“Speaking of marriage... Forgive me if the question is impertinent, my lord, but is this your... your...” Aiko’s green gaze fell on the human, who tensed under this new observation.
I clenched my fangs, halting a groan of irritation. They think that, like my father, I’ve found my mate on Sionnach.
“No,” I said flatly. “She’s one of the invaders who arrived during my absence. The others are dead or gone. She is the last of them.”
“Oh! So... she’s...” Aiko’s ears twitched as she clearly sought the right word for the situation.
“A prisoner.”
Aiko and Shoshen both inhaled sharply. The Sionnachans were peaceful and cooperative. They had no dungeons, no real crime to speak of. The word “prisoner” only existed in their language to use in a metaphorical sense. Prisoner of the mind. Prisoner of the heart.
Shoshen darted a look at his older sister, but she merely raised her downy orange arms in front of her, clenching her hands into fists and then opening them flat in a quick movement that meant “yes,” or “acknowledged.”
Though I knew she did not understand what I’d said, the human chose that moment to wrench herself from my loosened grip, as if in revolt against the idea of being a prisoner. With an annoyed sigh, I let her go, remaining in my place as she darted away from us. She ran to the base of the stairs, seeming to consider ascending, but no doubt realized that would trap her further. She hurried to the back of the hall.
“Oh! Oh!” Aiko said, her tail puffing up in panic. “Bring her back, Shoshen!”
Shoshen advanced slowly, his arms out to the side. The scene was an absurd one. Aiko and Shoshen were acting like a wild burrowbird had flown into the house. It made me laugh for the second time.
“She’s slow. She won’t get far.”
“My lord?” Shoshen said, turning back to me with a questioning look, waiting for explicit instructions.
The human used that moment of distraction to clumsily wrench open the door. She ran into the kitchen and out of sight.
My laughter died, giving way to cold impatience.
She’s slow. But wily, this one.