Caught In Quicksilver

Four

...

Sebastian

...

"Bernard! You fool! Get off me!" I do not think I have ever felt so very sour towards him as I do right at this moment, the bewildered expression on Nyke's face mirroring mine with how shocked he is to have been knocked to the ground so roughly in all of Bernard's sloppiness... My fellow soldier falling to his ass when I shove him off of me so that I might turn my attention from him to offering Nyke my assistance to help him rise from the ground, especially after I catch the glance he gives his ankle with the way that it has found itself tangled in his robes somehow, a wince of pain being witnessed when he tries to rearrange himself so that he might stand... My hands not hesitating to reach down for him to latch on to so that he might steady himself with my palms just enough for me to pull him to his feet, another wine of pain flashing itself across his face as he adjusts his stance ever so slightly to favor the offended limb and take his weight off of it... 

The sight of him doing so making me want to knock Bernard off of his feet once more when he stands, the reek of the alcohol-laced with essence freely given to him by some of the women inside... Their minds likely having realized that if they found a way to truly affect their vampiric customers that they would get more tips... And that opening a wrist or pricking a finger was the fastest way to navigate us down that road... They had been very smart indeed, and good for them but unfortunately for me... Bernard is very very stupid. 

All in all, I know that I cannot be too upset knowing that if he hadn't tricked me into coming here today I would not have laid eyes on Nyke for the first time... I wouldn't have met my soulmate... And for that, I owe Bernard much... Just... at the same time causing Nyke to take that tumble and end up injured is quickly dwindling that feeling of gratefulness I might have felt towards him for incidentally arranging this accidental meeting...

...

Nyke

...

The sharpness of my ankle when I try to move it tells me that I've likely sprained the damn thing, and I know that that will not go over well with Mama... She very much does not like it when harm comes my way, no matter who is responsible for it, even if it is myself for not moving out of the way fast enough... And for standing so very close to that stranger when really I likely should have run after he released me... 

I already know what Mama is going to say to me when she lays into me over this... That any time off of my feet will be money out of our pockets... And that when she was my age her Mama had already had her on her back... And that while she does not want that for me that if I insist on hurting myself so that I might have to lay in bed all day that she might as well start sending all of the men that come to stare at me knowing that they cannot have me up to my room... We both know that she would never truly do such a thing... But when I was small the thought used to terrify me due to all of the stories she and the others had filled my head with of what sometimes happens when they find themselves sheltered away in back alleys and dim rooms selling love to men who do not always know what it means to treat people kindly...

I had heard so many tales that Mama's threat of putting me on my back had kept me in line quite nicely, my main duty now that I am old enough to understand what it actually is that happens in our shared home and that the customers that come to see us are mostly well behaved, the ones who aren't always asked to leave and never return is mostly waiting on our customers are their sense get titillated by all of the bare skin and interesting conversations and card games that goes on downstairs, the cups never to be empty whenever I am around... An easier job than most of the jobs Mama is able to offer to those who come and work under her, my position only secured by the fact that I am of her lineage, and she had not wanted another generation of our family to know what it is to be taken into an alleyway to let themselves be ravaged only to leave it gutted and filled with shame with a few extra tokens in our purses... She wants better for me... She cares... 

And it is because she cares that I know she shall not let this slip past her without commenting on it... Especially when I try to take a step with the intention of turning towards home now that the man and his acquaintance had been reunited and in no need of me... Only to find my leg wanting to buckle whenever I try to make my injured ankle bear any of my weight, the joint tender and slowly becoming stiffer and stiffer as it becomes more and more inflamed... 

"Let me help yo- Bernard!-" The shout that catches my attention causes me to lift my head up so that I might change my focus from staring at my oddly swollen ankle to the sight of the man who had caught me in his arms shove the man who had stumbled into us both off of him once more, "Take yourself back home! Truly... Losing your sense in public... Go back to the palace before you embarrass us any further, you Fool."

The aggressiveness in which he speaks shocks me, the gentle way he had spoken to me just moments ago completely wiped away without a trace, the way his lips curl around each word making them sharper than I could have imagined coming from the same lips that had just been so very careful over asking my name...