A girl in disguise. An heir in hunt. A world divided.
Iris Lavera is born into the civilization of the least respected ones. The lineage where it's predicted to birth a curse. A low born who will be the downfall of an entire nation if left alive.
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AN This chapter is of length that I usually write in three separate ones. Yes, so it's an equivalent of 3 full length chapter so my young ones, you have to be attentive with the information this part defines. The chapter is unedited and is still pretty much a draft...you guys are superhumans if you survive through this. Please proceed. Leave a vote if you like it and comment your thoughts to make the dragons day. Also...in future chapters the povs may vary and I would love it if you would read this authors note like the pilot speaks through the intercom. I love that part the most. I am...derailing. So yeah...enjoy. :)
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Dorin was the first to create an alarming distort when he saw the Ezdan dragging me along with him towards the lead cabin. My arm was frigid at where the Ezdan had his fingers clasped - but I managed to peek over my shoulder, pacifying Dorin and others with a signal so they won't worry. The Ezdan shook me a little, garnering my entire attention to him. He folds the door, sliding it away like a paper fan and inside were his two lounging comrades who weren't out on the deck to experience the spectrum.
They probably had witnessed it millions of times before.
It's worth the value for them of what ice is to me.
Seen too much to last forever.
The Ezdan retires himself from me and walks to the table where General Slantis was patiently enjoying his meal on, he stood there watching him, idling for the Armin to notice his demanding presence.
Hann Slantis took notice of him, then at me who stood behind with head hung low in what is presume is my utter predicament to grasp at what had happened earlier, And what is allegedly transpiring now? The General took one quick hint to ask-
"Do I get to finish my dinner?"
Slantis stared not at Ezdan, but at Saga who sat without his robe, halfway through the unbuttoned linen shirt on the fifth log of a domestic ladder by the end of the cabin. He scrutinized us with an intuition of a feline and declared-
"His highness appears as if he has something to say, in urgency. And we both know that's seldom a good sign my mate" Marlon saga then smiled at me, "As for Timo, he is lost in his head- nothing out of ordinary so far"
Slantis is on his feet disrupting the dust of sagas monologues, his hair is swept to right and his gaze remained tight on the Prince.
"What is it?"
His tone is boyish as if his interrogation was with one of the common friends that you grow up and had their schooling commended with. The one with whom the travesties and pranks are always funnier than when you live them with others, with whom one would never turn their back on- I might be reading heftier between the lines that write their story. But the concern was not false- Hann Slantis cared for this man.
And for the man,
How does he care?
"We might get attacked tonight" he relaxed once the words were out. The tension visibly left the Ezdan and took over the visage of the General. I saw the Ezdan squint when Slantis barely moved or said anything, it's either the Prince trusted his oath with his guts or the latter where he thinks of him as incapable to do so. Or it's neither. He could be bossing him for his profit and the General is a shell of war and an administrative boaster that always stick to his side.
