Codename: Tsaritsa | A Sequel to "Codename: Childe"

12

You pull up the little black dress you conveniently found in your wardrobe.

The back was a zip up, however, and you couldn't reach your hands back and up too far.

"Ajax..." you called softly.

"My dress needs to be zipped up."

"I'm coming..."

Ajax wearily walked over to you, his white shirt only half tucked into his black trousers, his leather belt glinting in the ceiling lights. He hadn't yet done his hair and his shirt was half buttoned.

His gentle, veiny hands held the zip in place and pulled it upwards until your neck.

His hands were cold against the warmth of your back.

You turned around and did up the rest of his buttons as a thanks.

His face had a soft tone to it as he watched your eyebrows furrow, your manicured hands working it's way up to the final button, where he held your wrists.

"That's enough, printsessa. I get choked on that final button..."

He let out a forced kind of laugh.

He stroked your cheek.

"Whatever happens, I want you to stick by me, okay?"

You nodded.

"All the Harbingers will be present at the funeral. Of course, the Tsaritsa isn't informed, so I've told them all to keep quiet about your being here."

Nodding again, you grasp Ajax's white shirt and step up on your toes, pressing your lips to his.

You thought back to a few days ago, when Sharkur had found that letter in the drawer.

You sighed a little internally.

"Ajax... would you ever tell me if anything was wrong?" you softly whispered into the kiss.

You felt his body stiffen, as he took your face in both his hands.

"Sure, sweetheart."

You closed your eyes as the silence deafened you, the scent of his freshly applied cologne filling your nose, stinging your sense of smell and making your eyes water.

"We'll be okay..." you said parting just millimetres from his face, resting your forehead on his.

"We'll be alright.".

...

Ajax wore an odd sort of red scarf with a a long, white coat. You were also forced to wear a white coat, albeit shorter, letting it hang off your shoulders just like his.

It seems like everyone was already there, standing around what seemed to be Signora's coffin.

You and Ajax kept your heads up high as you descended down the stairs one by one, side by side, giving anyone who dared to toss you a second look a shivering gaze of knives down their figure.

You had learned to master Ajax's poker face.

The face of no emotion.

The eyes that held no heart.

You both silently took your places.

Ajax sat at his allocated chair.

There was no chair for you, so he pulled you onto his right thigh before you could do or say anything to the rest of the Harbingers, who had looked at you oddly.

"Is that Lord Tartaglia's student...?" A pink and black haired girl whispered to a taller, white haired one.

"I suppose so." she whispered back.