Page 37
Story: The ShadowHunter
“That is perfect. I wish to walk the palace, and it will be easier to not be missed if they are scattered.”
“My thoughts exactly. I had a feeling you would want to, since you have not been able to.” Victoria gave her a warm smile.
Once they arrived, Valerie spoke with multiple other nobles. She was putting on a show, speaking with as many people as she could before she found the individual she wanted.
She couldn’t see Geryon or King Bradwick, much to her relief.
“Lady Wyetta,” Valerie greeted as she bowed to her.
“Lady Cecily.” She returned the greeting with a bow of her head.
“I wonder if you were rather curious about the palace as well and may wish to take a stroll with me?” Valerie extended her hand in the hopes she would take her up on her offer.
“Since we will not be required, that sounds like a splendid idea. I do so love how clever you can be.”
Wyetta took ahold of her arm, and they left court to begin their walk along the lengthy bottom floor of the palace.
The blocks of buildings were connected by two hallways on either side. One could only access the other hallway by walking the long length and entering the room at the other end, before then crossing to the door on the other side of that room to go back.
Each hallway had access to one of the two rooms available in the middle.
The above level was filled with rooms and apartments and was far more confusing. Valerie had yet to touch the third floor.
They were heading to the left side of the palace, and Valerie made sure to check behind every door.
“You are rather curious, are you not?” Wyetta asked, raising a brow at how forward she was with her search.
“Do you not wish to know every nook and cranny of a place you may live in for the rest of your life?” Valerie asked, casually opening another door to peek inside before closing it.
“That is a rather fair point.” The woman laughed. “I admit, I agreed to come on this stroll because I want to find the war room.”
“It is rather frightful how much you enjoy blood and death. Perhaps you should have been born with a penis so you could have revelled in your bloodlust.”
Wyetta put her hand over her heart, sighing like that was the dream she wished for. “Oh, to be a man, to do what I want, say what I want, fuck whoever I want.”
“You only speak so forwardly because we are alone.”
There was barely even a guard posted in the long hallways. The further they got from court, the less they saw them, until Valerie realised she no longer did.
“Why, of course! Does it not feel good to speak so out of turn without the ears of others?” Then, to Valerie’s humour, Wyetta began to shout, “Fuck, shit, piss! See, it is rather uplifting. You must have a go.”
“I would much prefer not.” Valerie wasn’t against such language, she just didn’t wish to be caught. “Perhaps we can continue on your daydreams of wishing to be a man.”
“That is quite untrue!” Wyetta exclaimed. “I am fond of men and their dicks. I just do not like the position in which we women are born. We are seen as nothing more than dancing roses and child catapults.”
Valerie’s eyes crinkled with a surprised laugh. “Your imagery is quite compelling. You should write poetry about the woes of womanhood.”
“It will never become famous; men will not appreciate my higher intellect.”
The urge to cover the overconfident woman’s mouth was too much to bear. She placed both hands over her lips to quiet her, receiving a giggle in return.
“You are just as bad as me,” Valerie teased. “Here I thought I was the only one acting in a superior way to my usual self.”
“Ha! I knew you had a side to you that may not be all ladyship and poised beauty.” She mocked Valerie’s constant composure by puckering her lips, holding her fingers out like she was sipping tea, and nodding to nobles who weren’t present.
“The only way I can pretend to be you, Lady Wyetta, is if I showered myself in pig’s blood.”
Wyetta’s jaw dropped. “That is rude and vulgar, and I take great offense! Human blood would be a much better way to create such a wonderful portrayal of me. I would wear it with nothing else; a dress made of blood.”
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