Nicon

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    ELYSIE COULD NOT find a reasonable explanation for how she was feeling.  Hope swirled constantly in her chest and small vibrations danced across her fingertips.  She knew she should be scared, sad even, caused by being away from her mother, but Elysie felt nothing but excited.

    Elysie had gripped the King's muscular forearm as he led her toward the room in which she would be staying.  It smelled of deep lavender and she wondered if it was Nicon's workings, but reasoned that it was probably not, for he hardly seemed to do any laborious work himself.

    He had left her to her own devices multiple hours ago and Elysie was trying desperately to work up the courage to join him for the dinner he said they would have together.  He had even left her a dress on the bedspread, but she had forgotten about it until now.

    Making her way over to the bed tentatively, Elysie's knee bumped into a hard object after only taking a few steps.  She cursed as she bent over to massage her knee with her left hand while her right extended out to feel around her.  A hard, flat wooden surface, a lock on the side, ridges.  Was it a trunk?

    "I should've told you that was in front of you, I apologize." 

    Elysie's back went rigid and she stood up straight, ignoring the minimal throbbing in her leg.  "Courteous." 

    He laughed.  "Yes, so it seems courtesy is not one of my most respected traits." 

    Nicon was immeasurably surprised with the mortal, he had even come so far as to say he was becoming fond of her.  Not only were her features soft and beautiful, but her fiery and challenging personality was something Nicon hadn't seen in a long time.    

    "What are your most respected traits, then?"  She couldn't help but take a step toward him.  The room was large, she could feel it in the draft of the air, and she felt the need to get closer to the man.

    The King thought silently for a minute, contemplating.  All the traits he imagined were his most respectful were things no man should be pleased with.  "I am respected because they fear me," he decided with, knowing being feared was hardly a distinctive trait.

    "Who?"

    "Shifters and mortals alike.  That is why you are so peculiar to me human, your heart beats with fear, but you do not act at all scared in my presence."

    Elysie hesitated before taking another step.  Her thoughts wandered unprotected as she thought about what it was like to be a Shifter.

    "Does it hurt?" she asked.  "Shifting?"

    Nicon watched her eyebrows scrunch together as she spoke, obviously not comfortable with how she phrased her question, as if she didn't know how to.

    "The first time, it is the second most painful thing one will ever experience in their lifetime."   

    Elysie's lips parted in surprise.  "What is the first?"

    "Hopefully, you will never find out."

    Large cheers suddenly broke through the castle and although Elysie was floors away, the burly, deep voices carried. 

    "King Nicon!" one cried, followed by a shriek of joy.  "We have slain the humans!"

    And for once during her time at the castle, Elysie's hope suddenly dropped and a small seed of fear planted deep within her heart.

    "I don't think I will be able to accompany you for dinner, after all, Your Highness.  I am not feeling well."  She knew the lie was barely believable, she could hear her heart thumping in her ears. 

    Not hearing a response, she took multiple steps forward and felt for the space she imagined Nicon to be occupying, but found it bare.  Had he left?  She had trouble distinguishing the small pit in her stomach as either joy or sadness. 

    Retreating to the bed, she carefully walked with her hands in front of her until her legs reached the high rising mattress.  Her fingertips brushed across the soft comforter until they arrived at a silky fabric, long and smooth.  She envisioned it was a deep violet, adorned in jewels.  Fit for a Queen.

    Nicon, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that he could hear her thoughts, had stepped outside of her door so she could rest in peace, thankful for once that she could not see him. 

    A trait he respected about himself, he thought, was the fact that he was focused solely on his job, his people.  A small line had been formed, however, and as Nicon watched his warriors pile into the Great Room, bloodied faces and grins, he questioned what was right.