Damon hurried downstairs, passing by his room on the way. He hesitated, deciding to peak in and see whether or not his love was awake. He pushed the door open just a little bit, smiling as his eyes landed on Pandora and he realized that she had pulled the blanket closer around herself while he had been in his study. She was so cute like this, all wrapped up and nestled in a safe, cozy little nest where she didn't have to worry about anything. He hoped she was dreaming of something pleasant, if she was dreaming at all.
With a little sigh, Damon shut the door and started on his way back downstairs. He hoped he wouldn't need to come wake her anytime soon. Although, depending on what mood his guest was in, that might have been nothing more than an unrealistic pipe dream. In the foyer, Kirk stood waiting as Damon descended the staircase, doing his best to smile encouragingly and not really managing it. Damon stepped out onto the floor and looked towards the sitting room, swallowing hard. "You should be great at this, sir." Kirk said, trying to sound like he himself wasn't scared shitless by the presence of one of the most important people in the kingdom. "It's just talking, after all." He added. Damon nodded, too distracted to really notice his butlers attempts to make him feel better about the meeting. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see how this goes." Damon muttered, more to himself then to Kirk. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second to clear his thoughts, and walked up to the open sitting room door.
"To what do we owe this pleasure, my Lord?" Damon said, making a low, sweeping bow. The man sitting on the sofa stood up, turning to look Damon over. He was tall, but only a little bit taller than Damon, with a hooked nose, immaculately styled salt and pepper hair that spoke to his age, and wise gray eyes that had a reputation for seeming to demand truth and know immediately when they landed on a lier. He wore a pair of black dress pants pressed to perfection, a brown leather belt with a gold buckle, a gray turtleneck sweater that looked to be made of some kind of cashmere, a dark green suit jacket, and two or three rings on each hand bearing the symbols of the significant orders he worked for. He smiled, although it wasn't a friendly smile. It was more like the exasperated look of someone who was at their wits' end, but didn't particularly want to show it. "It's nice to see you...Damon, was it?" He asked. Damon nodded. "Yes, my Lord." He said. "Good. Well, you know my name. And I'm sure you also know my business here." Glevthop added, casting the young Duke a conspicuous glance. Damon couldn't help wincing, even though he knew it would only make the situation worse. "Yes, my Lord." He sighed, trying to cover up his discomfort with a cough. Glevthop stared at him for a long moment, not exactly confused but definitely slightly perplexed. "Where is she?" He asked at last, letting his smile fall and skipping past the smalltalk. "This isn't as clean cut as it seems, my Lord. Things have happened that make the situation a little...difficult." Damon said, realizing that his palms were starting to get sweaty. He bit his lip a little, wishing he could do something to calm the rapid beating of his heart. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He had met Glevthop many times before. But, admittedly, those times had been at parties and rallies, where the man's attention wasn't directed undividedly at Damon. There was also the nagging thought that if he made one wrong move, he would lose any footing he might have had to make his guest see his side of the situation. And unfortunately, Pandora would be the one to feel the consequences of that.
Glevthop nodded. "I figured as much. I doubt you would be able to capture someone like her without any sort of heavy artillery, when His Majesty the king has been using all his power to catch her for years and has always failed." He said, gesturing to the chair placed across from the sofa. "Why don't you tell me what sort of deal you made with her. And don't hold back on any details, this is an important matter that concerns the king very much." He added. Damon nodded and took the chair, too flustered to respond properly. Glevthop sat back on the sofa, watching Damon with the silent gaze of a hawk. "Alright, where do I begin on this?" Damon sighed, more to himself then to his guest. "The beginning would be preferable." Glevthop said, staring into his soul. Damon didn't like being around him when he wasn't wearing the mask of calm normality that he had on during the king's parties. He reminded Damon too much of the times he'd been called into his teacher's office and lectured for what seemed like hours back in school because he liked to organize fights just to watch the chaos with the biggest shit-eating grin a young and unsuspecting villain could have.
Damon nodded, trying to remember where exactly the beginning was. He figured it would be about the time he took Angel hostage, but that would make the story extremely long. He supposed there wasn't really any reason to want a shorter story, though, considering that he had been ordered to tell the whole thing and not leave out any details. He took a deep breath, and after a little pause to gather his thoughts, he finally started to narrate the past few days and the events that had led up to him and Pandora getting together. The status of their relationship was something that he didn't particularly want to talk about, but he knew that Glevthop would be able to tell if he left anything out. So, despite how uncomfortable it made him, he told the man everything.
YOU ARE READING
Morals of a Villain
General Fiction(Completed) Damon, a Duke by right, has never particularly liked the morally righteous narcissists he frequently has to deal with in everyday life. While others might see them as heroes courageously pitting themselves against the horrible and sadist...
