Sentimental Sentinels

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Viola's POV

Holy shit. I just kissed Kilian and walked away like a seductive fox or something.

I raise my hands up to my lips still warm from Kilian, conflicted to say in the very least. What happened to Varla's warnings and seeing him in a sexual vision with someone who may or may not be me? In the corner of my eyes I can see Claire glance at me in amusement as I blush.

"I kissed Kilian." I blurt out as she smiles at me.

"I saw." She replies simply as I continue to touch my lips.
"The shock should subside in a couple of minutes, and then you'll either be euphoric or want to be euthanized." She hums in humor as I continue in my dazed walk.

Focus, I need to focus.

I kissed Kilian.

And I definitely want more.

Fuck.

       I turn to look at her quickly as she raises as eyebrow.

         "What did you do when you first kissed Atticus?" I ask, glancing around the ballroom, looking for the door that leads to the halls.
She smiles as she thinks back to her memories, fondly.

"Well," she starts. "The first time we kissed he actually kissed me— and well, I asked to pray afterwards." She says as I glance at her in question. Then, we both snicker and begin to laugh.
After our laughter subsides, I shake my head in humor.

"That must've been one kiss huh? Well actually, this wasn't our first kiss... just the first time I've kissed him." I say to her.
"It's the first time I've really done something so bold. Well, beside that time I opened a grimoire and summoned a demon that dad had locked up for years and grew an attraction to him." I say, biting my lip and rolling my eyes.
"When was the first time you did something bold?" I ask, looking to her as she pushes some of her golden hair out of her face.

"Hmm, well— I mean, I've swung on a chandelier before and slaughtered an entire facility of assholes. I've also died for the cause; the war." She says as my eyes widen a fraction.

"Okay, I definitely want to hear those stories when we get the hell out of here." I say as she grins.

"Well, we both have gotten ourselves up in a bind haven't we?" She chuckles and bumps arms with me.
"Mom has always been the strictest person ever, so it's no surprise that I ended up doing all I could to be free. How about you— was dad strict?" She asks, her eyes round in wonder as my smile dies down slightly.

"Dad— dad was just strict when it came to my training and powers. Everything else? He's such a good person and believed in me. He didn't put me on a leash because he knew I could defend myself and I wouldn't willingly go into anything dangerous. It sounds like mom was the opposite to you... she was more protective and less supportive." I frown as Claire nods solemnly.

"Could you imagine them together? Raising us?" Claire cracks a smile.
"There would be a lot of head clashing and hell raising." We both picture it in amusement.

      Then, as we reach the door to the halls, our smiles vanish. It's dawned on us what we must do and what we might find. Dad could be in a deteriorated state, weak and numb. We glance at each other, and then pass on into the open doorway.
        Everyone is too busy mingling to even glance our way, shadows enveloping us and we slip through the passageway.

          Claire's long blue dress flutters and mine sways, heels clicking on the volcanic rock. It's dark in the halls, only far apart sconces lit and statues of marble sentinels littering the walls. I get an eerie feeling and wrap my arms around myself, glancing to Claire to see if she feels it as well. Her eyes are on me in caution as I come to realize that she is also creeped out.

We're silent, straining our ears and alert to see if there are any traps awaiting us. The distant harp music from the ball is muffled and we can vaguely still hear guests chattering away.

"Something doesn't feel right." I say as we both spot the staircase that leads up to the dungeon, no guards in sight.
"It seems too easy." I say, stomach feeling queasy and nervous.

          "You're telling me." Claire agrees as we slow our walking down, glancing around in all directions. I half expect a gigantic ball to come out and crush us, but no such thing happens.
The stalactites glisten in the moonlight coming from a crystal clear window on our right. The window is parted in four sections, a golden window pane and black roses.

I startle as I see the color of the wilted flowers, showing that not all of this castle can be majestic. It reminded me of the same message Varla had given me; not all that is beautiful is good. Except, she had meant it about Kilian, not a giant dark castle filled with torture victims and a killer king.

Up ahead I can see the grand staircase that leads up to the dungeon, the stairs shiny with a coat of polish to help the volcanic rock shine. Still, as the rest of the hallway— empty. I start to scent something odd and foul when I notice something move in the corner of my eye. Claire is a couple steps ahead of me and doesn't seem to shake, although my head snaps immediately.

         She continues to walk but the clicking of my heels pause as I slow down and connect eyes with a statue.

           It's armour is marble as is it's entire body— my nose wrinkles in disgust as I step closer to it, realizing the foul smell was emitting from it. I scan it from head to toe as I hear Claire pause ahead of me, just now realizing that I'd stopped to have a stare down with a statue.

       "Vi, Atty is mind linking me— he's telling me that Kilian is approaching his father now. He thinks we should come back and help; he's saying that the king is surrounded by powerful demonic guards made of...." she stops talking as if to take a second to process what Atticus was telling her.

I find what the movement from the corner of my eye was immediately. A tear drifts down the statues cheek, coming from its closed eyes. The tear sparkles, and then vanishes into the statues mouth. I already know what Claire is going to say before she says it, but still my feet refuse to move— eeriness filling every empty corner in my body.

             "Marble." She says, her voice ghostly just in time for the marble sentinels eyes to open with the sound of stone grating against stone.

             Red and glowing, vicious in the dark.

            And it was looking directly at me.





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