An Answer

By the time the bottle was finished she felt drunk and giddy. Like Tandas she found herself having difficulty staying upright and the scarred Meazyr Prince had pulled her into his lap and murmured soft sweet things into her ear, his breath warm on the fan of it.

 

She woke with a throbbing head and the jewelled pins poked into her unpleasantly. She sat up carefully and began pulling them out, freezing in horror as she heard his low laughter from beside her.

 

She had fallen asleep in her gown, but he had stripped off his huntsman's garb. He stretched as she looked down at him, showing his chest with a grin. She blushed and closed her eyes turning her face away. “This is not…”

 

He sat up and began to pull more of the pins from her hair. “Zoldendochterblum, mina frey.”

 

“I did not answer.” She hoped. She couldn’t remember all of it.

 

“No.” He pulled her loose hair back from her face and kissed her ear. He then stood and began to dress, twisting a thick strand of hair and pinning it with one of her jewelled pins.

 

When he was dressed he looked at her with the same unreadable expression she recalled from the night before. He extended his hand to her, helping her up, as she stood he sank to his knees pulling her hands to his scarred face and kissing the palms.

 

“Je asked of my victory. De victory of Vells.” At his words, she felt cold.

 

“You-you're the Butcher of Vells?”  She shuddered and tried to pull her hands away, he held them, getting his grip on her wrists and clasping them in both hands beneath his chin.

 

“Vellsensieger.” Speaking firmly the title he had earned.

 

“Vellsenslakter.” She hissed back.

 

She watched the anger pass over his face, his grip on her wrists tightened painfully.

 

“Zoldendochter, mina frey. Did jer fader nee-”

 

“I am not your wife. My father spoke of the honor and fierceness of the Meazyr, the burning of Vells with women and children inside lacked all honor.” She thought he might crush her wrists after her angry words.

 

“I ended de war.” His reply was sharp.

 

“You're crushing my wrists.” Pain was shooting up her arms.

 

He eased his grip and bent his head breathing on her skin, he stayed that way a long moment. Finally, he released her left hand and drew his hunting blade. He put it in her hand and held it there, pressing it to his throat.

 

“I would have ain antwordt. Je kill me witt jer refusal. Je spare me ent have me, mina frey.” He pulled his hands away and clasped them behind his back, looking up at her intently.

 

“You’ll accept no other answer?” Her hand trembled and she could barely speak.

 

“No.” He smiled grimly.

Author's Note

“Vellsensieger.” - Victor of Vells
“Vellsenslakter.” - Butcher of Vells