He nodded. "Probably for the best," he agreed, grinning a bit. "As for why she did it... she did it more to protect the High Lord than to teach a lesson. If she hadn't found a way to stop the Council, he would have killed every last one of them to protect her. So she gave them an ultimatum and then.." he grinned and shrugged a bit, though there was something almost feral in his eyes, something dangerous and glittering for a moment, transforming the affable young man into something else.
"The Dark Council declared that Uncle Saetan was unfit to be a father to her, because our art and fighting teachers were demons, and because there was still prejudice against Guardians in general and him specifically because he is the High Lord of ****. " He still was smiling, he still sounded amused, but the light hearted sense about him was gone, replaced with something closer to malice. It wasn't... quite malice, but neither was it kind. The air cooled slightly.
"So they called her into a hearing, along with the High Lord and Prince Anduvlar, who they no doubt also objected to." He didn't realize he was edging towards cold, just remembering it. In the moment he hadn't been this angry, but he had been surrounded by the anger of his friends, and they were always so much Darker, could be so much colder than he. But then as now, there was also a fierce satisfaction in him, and a pride. She could have killed them all and no one would have blinked. What she had done instead was so much more a statement of the Witch she was.
"We could all tell when they left the Hall, Uncle Saetan went prepared to murder them all, to protect her, and so she wouldn't have to. The Council wanted to give her back to the sort of people that she was born to, the kind of ******s that would" every plate in front of him, and there were many, shattered into uniform shards about the size and shape of grains of rice.
The sound made him realize that he was too close to the killing edge. Too cold. He took several breaths, and reminded himself that no one who had hurt his friend, his cousin, his QUEEN were here. None of them walked among the living. None of them even remained in ****. They were gone.
Still, it was hard to leash his temper. He closed his sleepy looking glazed eyes, wishing his wife was there, or Jaenelle, or any of the Coven. He needed that soothing female presence, he needed that warmth. Or in the case of Karla or Gabrielle, that whack upside the head and tartness.
Thinking about them helped, He closed one of his hands over the other and his palm rested over his wedding ring. Memories of his wife flooded through him, calmed him, anchored him. Mind filled with her and Jaenelle and Karla, and all the other girls in the First Circle, all the Queens he knew and loved, he spoke again, keeping his eyes closed as he focused on the pride he felt, rather than the anger. The pride in her, and the pride that came with serving so great a Queen.
She hadn't killed the guilty, how could he serve her if old memories drove him to attack the innocent.
"She listened to what the Council had to say," he said, his voice more hollow now, the fierceness gone, While the air didn't warm, neither did it continue to cool. "And she stood before them. And she gave them her ruling. According to Prince Anduvlar," No... family. Focus on the connections. "Uncle Anduvlar, the idiots did not yet realize with whom they were dealing. She told them that she would not argue, that they could appoint new guardian for her, when the sun next rises."
The pride came back, the air warmed, and when he opened his eyes some of the feral danger was still there, but so was the warmth. "We didn't realize that night that not even Uncle Saetan knew what she was planning. We all knew as soon as we heard the terms. As soon as the sun next rises. So of course, for the Blood, it wasn't going to rise."
He put an invisible shield around his hand and slid it into the sand. "She is Witch, she is a Queen, she would never harm the Land. She found instead a way to separate Blood from not. For all the Blood it was as though the sun had failed to rise. Three days on the cusp of daybreak, never once seeing the light... three days before they agreed to her terms...."
He let the sand drift from between his shielded fingers, focusing on the way the wind caught it. Trying to bring himself back from the fragile precipice. "And apparently I have scars on my soul I was unaware of," he said so softly it was almost a whisper. "I appologize."
Spoilers for Black Jewels.
"The Dark Council declared that Uncle Saetan was unfit to be a father to her, because our art and fighting teachers were demons, and because there was still prejudice against Guardians in general and him specifically because he is the High Lord of ****. " He still was smiling, he still sounded amused, but the light hearted sense about him was gone, replaced with something closer to malice. It wasn't... quite malice, but neither was it kind. The air cooled slightly.
"So they called her into a hearing, along with the High Lord and Prince Anduvlar, who they no doubt also objected to." He didn't realize he was edging towards cold, just remembering it. In the moment he hadn't been this angry, but he had been surrounded by the anger of his friends, and they were always so much Darker, could be so much colder than he. But then as now, there was also a fierce satisfaction in him, and a pride. She could have killed them all and no one would have blinked. What she had done instead was so much more a statement of the Witch she was.
"We could all tell when they left the Hall, Uncle Saetan went prepared to murder them all, to protect her, and so she wouldn't have to. The Council wanted to give her back to the sort of people that she was born to, the kind of ******s that would" every plate in front of him, and there were many, shattered into uniform shards about the size and shape of grains of rice.
The sound made him realize that he was too close to the killing edge. Too cold. He took several breaths, and reminded himself that no one who had hurt his friend, his cousin, his QUEEN were here. None of them walked among the living. None of them even remained in ****. They were gone.
Still, it was hard to leash his temper. He closed his sleepy looking glazed eyes, wishing his wife was there, or Jaenelle, or any of the Coven. He needed that soothing female presence, he needed that warmth. Or in the case of Karla or Gabrielle, that whack upside the head and tartness.
Thinking about them helped, He closed one of his hands over the other and his palm rested over his wedding ring. Memories of his wife flooded through him, calmed him, anchored him. Mind filled with her and Jaenelle and Karla, and all the other girls in the First Circle, all the Queens he knew and loved, he spoke again, keeping his eyes closed as he focused on the pride he felt, rather than the anger. The pride in her, and the pride that came with serving so great a Queen.
She hadn't killed the guilty, how could he serve her if old memories drove him to attack the innocent.
"She listened to what the Council had to say," he said, his voice more hollow now, the fierceness gone, While the air didn't warm, neither did it continue to cool. "And she stood before them. And she gave them her ruling. According to Prince Anduvlar," No... family. Focus on the connections. "Uncle Anduvlar, the idiots did not yet realize with whom they were dealing. She told them that she would not argue, that they could appoint new guardian for her, when the sun next rises."
The pride came back, the air warmed, and when he opened his eyes some of the feral danger was still there, but so was the warmth. "We didn't realize that night that not even Uncle Saetan knew what she was planning. We all knew as soon as we heard the terms. As soon as the sun next rises. So of course, for the Blood, it wasn't going to rise."
He put an invisible shield around his hand and slid it into the sand. "She is Witch, she is a Queen, she would never harm the Land. She found instead a way to separate Blood from not. For all the Blood it was as though the sun had failed to rise. Three days on the cusp of daybreak, never once seeing the light... three days before they agreed to her terms...."
He let the sand drift from between his shielded fingers, focusing on the way the wind caught it. Trying to bring himself back from the fragile precipice. "And apparently I have scars on my soul I was unaware of," he said so softly it was almost a whisper. "I appologize."