Much to consider - Narrative

[regental]

The Regent of Paradise sat at his desk, silently fuming. His large black and white cat lounged in his lap, snoozing and purring as he absently rubbed her ears. He'd dimmed all the lights in his study, preferring the dimness to match his black mood.

This was bullshit. Ever since his last conversation with Heather, he'd been in a constant state

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[b4thetime]

So she came, a small chime to her step as she followed the persistent boy that came and collected her. Heather held her hands together in a soft clasp before her, while the folds of her fabric spiraled particularly around her.

Once she entered in the Regent's room, she found her eyes adverting his for reason. She could feel the upsetting tension within the room, a place so upsetting that it brought her lips to frown. She knew the animosity toward them was blossoming more each days the further they grew apart.

"Sire.." barely a above a whisper, she prayed for a shelter between them now. Yes, she was very much afraid of him - more afraid of him then the monsters that seeped inside the city.

[regental]

He was still seated behind his large desk, but the feline had vacated her former lounge and was now comfortably ensconced in her soft bed near the windowsill. But the Regent tapped his chin thoughtfully as the guardsman escorted the pagan to him; after a moment's hesitation, he tipped his fingers towards a chair opposite.

"Sit."

A quiet command, but one not to be disobeyed. He and Heather had long gone around and around, ever since she'd arrived in the city, so very long ago. But it was time for some straight answers, and he'd get them from her one way or the other.

[b4thetime]

She did not want to sit, she did not want to come any closer. But she did so, for the command that it was, we are all his children.

Her lips pierced and she stepped lightly toward the chair, and found herself challenging herself to look into his heavy eyes. A solemn expression lingered on her face, something always hidden that she could not bring forth. No matter how many times he has asked, she could only offer what she was able.

[regental]

Smart of her.

The Regent kept his falsely relaxed posture, lowering his hand to close with the other across his lap as he stared at the Witch of Paradise. When he did finally speak, his voice was deceptively calm, bordering on dreadful.

"And so, here we are, Milady Heather." A glint lit dark blue eyes. "Come a long way, yes? A far cry from the place we began, little more than a squad of mud huts in the desert."