In Her Element

“Your mother seems to trust him, yet I find him in your room, while you are inappropriately dressed, and in bed.”

Frederick’s gaze roved over her suggestively as he said this, and Almyra reached over and yanked the covers up to her chin. He smirked, and she felt the familiar heat in her chest—heat that burned from annoyance and anger, particularly when she saw Frederick.

His eyes rested on her fists clutching desperately at the blanket, and his grin widened impishly.

And Almyra snapped.

She swung her feet off the bed and stood slowly, allowing the blanket to fall at her feet, revealing all five-foot-three-inches of a young woman in a pure white, ruffled nightdress that was just a bit see-through. Her face, framed by waves of dark brown hair glowed crimson with a heated anger. Had she had wings, she would have looked to the entire world as an avenging angel. Her voice too, could cause even the most stubborn of men to cower as she lashed out at the man standing before her, the one who dared antagonize her so.

“Yet here you stand, while I am so inappropriately dressed. And while we are discussing our locations, why are you here?” Almyra glared at him, daring him to come up with a plausible excuse for being there, waiting by her door.

“I heard noises. I came to check if all was right, if you were safe and unharmed. It looks to me as though I was not the only one who was worried.”

He emphasized the word “worried” with an almost mocking tone of voice as he glanced pointedly at Rupert, who stood in a defensive stance at halfway point between Frederick and Almyra, then looked back at Almyra, who stood shocked at the apparent care that he heard displayed in his voice. But the shock did not last long. The care was obviously faked, so as to appease her, and make her loosen up in her treatment towards him, and he proved it when he mocked—and so doubted—Rupert’s genuine worry and care of her.

“Really?” she snapped, “Because you seem to have found the situation quite funny!”

Frederick’s smile faded, and he opened his mouth to respond; but she was not finished, and she struck again. “How long were you standing by my door?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

He stiffened at this, and narrowed his eyes. He made as if to step forward, but stopped when Rupert twitched. “Is that what you think? That I was listening? Is that what you think of me?”

Almyra looked at him uneasily, swallowing the immediate “yes” that had flown to her tongue at his question. He seemed to be really offended at her suggestion. But perhaps seemed was the key word here. “I—“

“Yes, I know that’s what you think of me. But I came here now because I felt that I suddenly needed to. No, I do not know why, nor do I care why, but I did come. I did not hear anything you were saying, for the reason that I was not listening, as I am not in the habit of listening in on others’ conversations. And I did not think I would find you so with a man in your room.”

He took a deep breath, meaning to continue, but Rupert cut in calmly, but dangerously, his hand once again gripping the dagger that he had entered the room with and that Almyra had no idea where he had been hiding it until now. The dagger, though, held nothing in the terms of fear compared to the terror that the look on Rupert’s face inspired as he answered Frederick’s implied accusations.

“I came in here because she is my charge and it is my responsibility to care for her, as I have been doing so for years. I have every right to do so and I need not explain myself to the likes of you. What would your excuse have been if our positions were reversed?” He grinned triumphantly, knowing that there was no way for Frederick to dispute with him on this.

Frederick stood silently for a moment, his brow wrinkled as he thought, then replied, “I only wished to make sure Miss Almyra was all right. I had no intention of entering to comfort her, unless she would have bid me to do so.” He knew when a battle was lost, and when it was unnecessary to pick another one.

He paused, and looked directly at Almyra. She stared back unflinchingly, but his gaze held long, probing, and she soon squirmed.

She suddenly felt a tingling in her head and raised her hand to her forehead and touched it. Frowning at the sudden and odd sensation, she stared harder at the man. She gasped.

Frederick’s grey eyes were staring at her forehead with an intensity that scared her. But that was not what had shocked her.

Frederick’s eyes were not grey—they were blue.

No. That was not possible. She was tired and had to be hallucinating. She shook her to clear her mind; when she met his gaze again, his eyes were their original blue, only confirming that this was so.

Frederick cocked his head, and fired one last shot. “I do not feel the need to venture where I should not.”

He spun on his heel and left, giving no time for response.

There was a moment’s pause while Almyra stood there and seethed.

“One day,” she swore, “one day, he is going to get what is coming to him.”

She glared at Rupert, who inclined his head and walked out through their shared door, knowing now was not a good time to talk to her, or to even be near her. She shut the door with a twitch of her hand, almost hitting him in the back, so eager was she to be alone and stew.

Almyra collapsed onto her bed and rubbed her forehead again, a little freaked by the eeriness of what had just occurred.

She was going insane, imagining things. For a while back there, she had felt as if someone had been walking through her mind, small footsteps, and fingers probing gently.

Suddenly, exhaustion hit and she felt the need to cry; she did so, softly, until Rupert returned with the steaming mug of tea and sat with her until she finished it and slowly fell back asleep.