BlackRoses27

When Rhion and De arrived at the door to their apartments it was to find three self appointed members of De's Silver Circle (as Mish-shy had called it) lazing around yammering on about something or another in their demon tongue. It was a musical sounding language that the demons called Sa'brail.

Rhion remembered this because Kef had taught him a smidgen years ago. Mostly curse words, and a few practical bits. Kef had often argued with Rhion's Demon teachers in their own tongue, thoroughly annoying the hell out of them. Rhion hadn't understood the necessity of learning any of it at the time but now he wished he'd pestered Kef for more scraps of their dialect.

It was a supple language that flowed over the tongue like warm silk despite the hard outer appearance of those who spoke it. It was the kind of language where someone could call you a 'dumb fuck' (or much worse) and still make the insult sound appealing.

It was also a language Rhion had never learned much of, due partly to the inability of non-demons to comprehend it in its entirety. Kef had been fluent, but Rhion had barely learned that smidgen. The pitch and the tenor of the voice speaking the ancient language held meaning beyond the actual syllables. There were subtle changes in tone that few outside demon world could grasp. Maybe---like music---you had to have an ear for it?

Even so, these bastards exchanging remarks as the two approached their own rooms in a language they couldn't understand was rude in Rhion's book. Not being an idiot, he knew from the looks they threw that De at least was the subject of their talk whether he understand the gist of it or not. And since he wasn't too pleased to find a bunch of strange demons milling around the door when he wanted to go straight in and tend to De's wounds, he decided to be rude right back.

"Hey! If you fellows have something to say as you block our door, spit it out so we can understand! Otherwise I'm going to think you're intentionally being a bunch of jackasses, rather than being so through your own ignorance."

For a moment they just stared at him, taken aback at being addressed so shortly, and by a human at that. The nameless redhead flashed Rhion a critical look, his eyes hardening as though he might enjoy snapping Rhion in two.

"We meant no offense, Human," he finally offered in Common, with a tone to his voice that convinced Rhion of the opposite at least as far as the "human" was concerned.

"My *name* is Rhion, Lord Demon---and you would be?" Rhion didn't let go of De as he extended his hand, overly polite just to emphasize the demon's discourtesy.

"Dragonwick." The demon answered but he didn't reach out to accept the offered appendage, instead he simply looked at it as though he had no idea what the human was offering to him and why.

"He's Sorn'ya---they don't touch the impure." The demon that spoke said this as though it made perfect sense, and at the same time made it clear that it was probably beyond Rhion's limited 'human' understanding.

Rhion recognized the one who had spoken as Darkdreamer. This demon was small for a ruling class Shyle, barely a fraction of an inch taller than Rhion and he was lacking that build that set the demons apart from the rest of immortal-kind. Most immortals were impressive but as rule these guys were positively huge, not just tall but muscular.

This guy was none of that. At first glance he looked human, attractive, well built but not stunning. The only reason he stood out in a crowd was the twist and curl of demon tattooing that danced across his skin in shades of silver and gray metallic. The marks were placed strategically, in places meant to either draw away from or add to one feature or another.

It worked, one would think him quite attractive until they started to break down his features, and eliminate the artificial adornments. Once that was done, the only thing he had going for him was a set of killer abs and a slightly less than ordinary face.

The abs were blazingly apparent due to the fact the guy was half dressed, and dusted with some kind of shimmering powder, that made his body look healthy and attractive in a way that Rhion knew it didn't ordinarily look.

Rhion pulled his hand back, and placed it across the flat of De's belly where it had been before in an effort to help support him. He was still limping and the walk had caused a steady stream of blood to flow from the wound where it pooled in the floor.

"Hmmm. Sorn-ya, Hell's Child---he's what you guys call a hellborn, right? And a priest to boot, since he won't touch the likes of me." Dragonwick looked impressed, his expression softening somewhat. "I'm not sinful enough to be 'pure'. Weird contrast with the religion I know but I get it." Rhion took a moment to look smug. "I had demon teachers, you see."

"Nope, but the one who did seemed to know you guys well enough." Rhion pointed this out flatly as De clung to him a little tighter. The boy had been through a lot today and he didn't seem inclined to throw up those abrasive shields now that they had a little company. "Now, I'd love to stand out here and yak at you all day, but as you can see he's bleeding." Rhion's tone of voice added "You inconsiderate morons!" to the comment without actually stating the insult.

His tone was ignored, in this instance. To Rhion's extreme disgust, a remark meant to move the crowd from the door seemed only to have a very different effect.

Darkdreamer looked down, his eyes taking in the blood as though precious jewels littered the floor. The demon knelt down like a tracker examining the earth for signs of quarry and ran his fingers through the crimson trail that was steadily growing nearer to him from across the floor and still connected to De's foot.

De suddenly stepped back, forcing Rhion to do the same. He looked positively pale as he watched Darkdreamer smooth the blood over his fingers and raise it to his nose as though he could smell something besides the typical sweetness Vampirc blood gave off.

"Mi'lord?" Darkdreamer seemed surprised as he stood up, his fingers idly wiping the blood down the length of the scar he'd made on his own arm when he'd made that little show of offering loyalty to Damian in the dining hall. "The blood of a god flows freely in this moment---and it's being wasted upon the earth." It seemed an odd thing to say, as if it were tinged with sex and want where there should be none.

Rhion felt De's stomach clench as the old familiar tension slipped into place. "Blood flows to the goddess through the earth, it's never wasted upon her."

Well, at least De seemed to know what was going on! This only added to Rhion's worry, though. The boy was bleeding a *lot* and both he and these fools of demons seemed ready to stand here and chat about it? Not for much damn longer! Rhion didn't care to make a scene, their status here was still too uncertain in his mind for him to cause trouble. But his anger was growing to match his concern for De.

"Shall you not reward your disciples with that which has already been shed?" Rhion tensed, what the hell was this guy asking for? For a moment he didn't comprehend the direction the conversation had taken.

Belongs to Rhion, what the hell? The remark touched him oddly even though he didn't quite understand---or maybe he did, a little. He supposed it was nice to be included even in lunacy. Well, in any case this had gone far enough.

"You want his blood?" For some reason that chewed on Rhion's brittle nerves in a way few other things had. "First Mish-shy steals it and now here you are like a beggar with your cup out---he's not a fucking fountain."

"It's alright Rhion, it's lifeless blood---it's not from the vein---it's not even warm." De seemed uneasy but he didn't say anything as Darkdreamer knelt back down and ran his fingers through it again---this time bringing it to his chest as though he intended to paint his body red with the stuff---which was actually what he did.

Some design quickly became apparent, and then traveled from his chest to his face as though De's blood had honestly taken on the characteristics of paint. It wasn't a messy smear but a fine artistic design.

"I shall offer you my prayers this night, and every night here after." Suddenly the other two dropped to their knees behind the smaller Darkdreamer.

That remark for some reason hit a nerve and snapped tinder to a blaze of anger. "Your sword, maybe---your flesh he doesn't need!" Rhion scooped De up, his eyes on fire. "Lick his blood from the floor if that's the plan and then get the fuck out of here."

Rhion didn't answer him. instead he took him inside, through the living room entrance and straight into the shower. Fortunately, the demons did move aside, because Rhion had plans of trying to shoulder through them at this point whether he was likely to succeed or not. But something in his eyes if not his physique seemed to impress them, and they drifted back from the door. Eyes never leaving De, though, until they were out of sight.

Rhion remained silent as he adjusted De in his arms and reached out to flip on the shower. The boy didn't fight him; instead he just lay there in Rhion's arms, clinging to the older boy's neck as the semi-warm water soaked them both to the bone.

Why De hadn't argued about being carried in like that was a mystery to Rhion, since usually all he'd be doing was bitching and complaining about it. But he hadn't and Rhion wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though that lack of complaint was worrying in itself!

De had dropped his head down to rest on Rhion's shoulder, and for a while they just stood like that and Rhion for one was glad that the boy didn't seem inclined to push him away. He wasn't angry with him, not for those morons outside the door but he was afraid for him and he needed a little time to sort through his feelings on the matter.

Having people---especially demon people---so focused on you that they were ready to lie down and worship at your altar was dangerous. Living gods, unlike their divine counterparts, were at a disadvantage. They weren't tucked safely out of the reach of their followers, they were in the heart of life and they could be scorched by it.

All this worried Rhion, but at the core of it was his belief that fanatical people made poor supporters and worse friends, no matter how helpful they might seem in the beginning.

Suddenly, like a sweetly remembered dream, Rhion felt the soft press of lips against his neck---it was a kiss and yet it wasn't. Nothing so sweet and luscious could ever be that innocent. The soft touch of lips spoke of something more, of something he'd tried for years to forget.

This was what he'd wanted when he'd set out from Whimsica that morning, the slight weight of this boy in his arms---safe---together as they should have been years ago.

He listened as De's breathing slowed and grew hot and heavy against the skin of his throat. He felt those same lips tremble as his companion reluctantly pulled himself back.

It seemed to take everything De had not to sink his fangs into Rhion's neck, and the invitation was about to fall off the tip of the older boy's tongue when De wiggled slightly, indicating Rhion needed to put him down. There was something desperate in that movement, and Rhion responded to that before he really had the opportunity to think about it.

Carefully he settled De down onto the floor. He wasn't sure that's what he wanted to do but if something was hurting the boy---something about the position, or perhaps his need, then they had to fix it.

De's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head---one hand going up to rub away some pain he shouldn't be feeling. Suddenly the boy tried to pull away, and almost managed to before Rhion snagged both his arms just above De's elbows and tugged him forward. The effort was ridiculously easy, for the first time since Rhion had known De, the boy actually seemed to be reflective of his size, slight of build, fragile beyond belief and about as strong as he looked---which wasn't very.

De was pressed up against his chest, his eyes dark---not the look of the strange god that emerged on occasion but the look of desire, so thick and unrelenting that he looked practically drugged. De swayed, pain marring the look before his eyes glossed over as his knees gave way.

Rhion gathered him up, cradling De's body protectively close. He quickly moved them to the bedroom and placed De gently on top of the lush bed. Then, his eyes swept through the room looking for something that would fix this.

Instinctually he knew what to do, over the last few days De had been periodically losing blood but he hadn't been taking any in. Food slowly replaced blood stores, he remembered that bit of knowledge from those vampires that had befriended his house during his teenage years (and from Kef's ramblings of course!) but if they wanted the job done fast then they had to drink it. The damn fool had been starving himself for whatever reason and this needed to be remedied before any of Rhion's cooking could benefit De in the slightest.

He turned toward the kitchen, intent on finding a knife to open a vein. As if by magic he found his path blocked by a small blonde pixy girl holding the flat of a blade, the handle extended toward Rhion. "Is this what you wish?" She smiled softly, as she waited for him to take it.

Rhion studied her in astonishment, then smiled, not trying to hide his delight. "Thank you. This will save me digging through drawers!" He took the knife and hurried to De's side, mind working furiously.

The small girl was what Kef had described as a "fae". Perhaps not full-blood, but definitely a halfling. Rhion had never seen such a person before, and he was instantly charmed.

Kef had discussed many things while training Rhion; to say he was talkative was an understatement so colossal it was almost an insult to the red-haired trainer. Nor did he require conversation; he was perfectly happy to deliver monologues on any number of subjects, or sometimes none at all it seemed. Rhion had ignored a lot of it while impatiently waiting for sex to happen! But his mind had always soaked up information in a curiously perceptive fashion, and even though he thought he was bored to tears, he had absorbed nearly everything the strange, fire-haired being had said to him.

And maybe, all of it hadn't been random chatter. Or even particularly to show off the oceans of information, although by the Eternal Gods he still believed that was part of it in Kef's case! But how could Kef have known he would need an understanding of demons?

Maybe all Kef's gloriously flagrant display of knowledge was meant to train his star pupil in another way. For the things that would happen in the rest of his life, perhaps?

The pixy girl was there by the bed with calm efficiency, smiling at him and holding some herb-scented cloths. Rhion looked down at De's waxen face and forgot everything except helping him.

He gently cupped the small face in one hand and turned it, at the same time pressing his arm against De's mouth so the warm blood would drip onto the boy's parted lips.

"To put it in a cup would be more elegant and probably get it in him faster, but I wasn't planning for this," he remarked humorously for the girl's benefit.

She tilted her head, studying De closely as he licked his lips and instinctually swallowed the blood he found there. It took but a moment for the taste of it to inspire him to drink, he took every drop the wound had to offer but his fangs never came to bare.

Odd, considering how Joss rarely kept his tucked away---the vampire seemed to have difficulty holding back once blood spilled over his tongue. It wasn't that he couldn't control the hunger itself; he just always seemed intent on leaving his own mark---be it during a routine feeding or sex, the desire to mark Rhion (or even Kef) had been there, hot and heavy in the forefront of whatever they were doing.

In fact Joss bared his fangs often, always during sex, often after a blood drawing injury and sometimes in mock battle when he trained. Though he'd once pointed out that vampires didn't usually eat their enemies unless they were wounded and were in serious need of healing---Their blood was too sour for that---the hatred spoiled the taste, at least for most---there were a few who liked it but for the average vampire it made the experience bitter.

Emotion played into taste, and for a vampire the sweetest flavors were those colored with excitement and salted with the tiniest dab of fear. Not real fear but the kind that bubbled up when you had fangs pressed into the soft flesh of your throat---when you put your life in their hands, and trusted them to give it back to you intact.

Rhion had yet to even glimpse De's fangs, and in the shower was the first time he's seen the dark, smoldering color of hunger pass over his eyes like a smoky veil. He remembered what that look had meant when Joss wore it, and it seemed to mean the same on De but the boy refused to give in. It was a curious thing, to realize that it wasn't Rhion himself that chased away De's fangs (an obvious show of attraction among vampires) but some hidden monster that De hadn't chased away.

Rhion watched as color flooded back into De's face pulling him back from the edge of that horrid, slightly ice blue color and giving him back the soft silken ivory tint that looked healthy on a vampire.

Then to Rhion's amazement De actually gained a bit of real color, an ever so slight almond cast as if he'd actually spent a few moments in the sun, rather than under the cold light of the moon. It wasn't enough to be called a tan or even to make him less than slightly darkened ivory but it gave him a new glow.

Lee had a lot of color, a healthy sun washed color--- so did a lot of vampires---so Rhion didn't assume that they were all naturally pale, just that De was. And he still figured he was lighter than the norm, but he got the feeling that if the boy had fed more often that he might actually look as if he'd spent some time in the sun. But almost as soon as De gained a bit of real color he pulled back, sinking down into the blankets next to Rhion's thigh.

"I don't think he drinks from the living," the girl responded as she walked around the bed and reached out matter-of-factly to cover Rhion's arm with the cloth she was holding.

She smiled sympathetically as she pressed the cloth into the wound making it sting for a second and then tingle. For a moment Rhion simply watched the tiny bursts of light appear around the edges of the cloth. It wasn't the medicine that was making quick work of the wound beneath but the skill of the girl herself. Then as if it were simply a matter of finishing up she wiped the cloth longwise up the spot where the wound had been and pulled her hand back.

She took in the soft newly formed skin, letting her fingers dance over the place that had been seeping blood only moments before. "It may still be tender to the touch, but that should pass in a couple hours time. I'm not the best of the healers at the palace but I'm fairly skilled at the simple things. Bloodseeker says I have the gift, but I think he flatters me too much."

She smiled. "You're welcome," She took the praise well, her eyes brightening to the point that they were a step away from glowing. "He should sleep and I can show you what we've brought you." She took his hand and tugged him gently to his feet. She waited as he pulled the covers over De, her eyes following every movement with childlike interest.

Rhion stood looking down at De's face for several long seconds, saying nothing except with his eyes, which were full of shadows. Then he sighed and smiled at the girl again, though it was a bit forced. "Good enough! Now that he's outta danger some decent food will actually help. And *that* I can do!"

"I really can cook, you'll see." She giggled at him openly as she pulled him along toward the kitchen. "I can, I can! Why does everyone find that so hard to believe?"

"Because you look more fit for the bed than the kitchen---at least among demons---are you large for a human?" The straightforward comment was layered in innocence but the girl didn't seem to realize that as she looked over her shoulder at Rhion awaiting his answer.

More fit for the bed, eh? I hear that a lot lately! Rhion wasn't really offended, though if the assessment has come from a Demon he might have snorted sarcastically. What had she asked now? "Um, well, I've been told back home I'm a pretty good size. I'm short among these demons, but I do look down on most other humans I guess." The girl was barely mid-chest height on Rhion, more the size of a child than a woman but that didn't mean anything in the immortal world.

Her size and delicate look made it effortless to ignore the fact that she could as easily be thousands of years his senior as she could be but a mere babe. She didn't feel old to Rhion but then again he was a little too young to have developed that particular sense, he was only nineteen after all.

Then they entered the kitchen and Rhion forgot his random thoughts in a burst of sheer pleasure. He'd half expected Mish-shy to cut his list, or perhaps just throw an extra sack of potatoes in the kitchen as his idea of a joke. But his first thought now was the old bastard had actually outdone himself, or rather his servants had.

The first thing visually apparent were the many bowls of bright colorful fruit, and the collection of herbs in little growing pots that lined the counter on the back wall. There seemed to be at least twenty different types in the assortment, and it instantly reminded Rhion of his mother's window box back home minus the window of course.

Adjacent to them on the counter top were canisters labeled in Rhion's native tongue announcing the presence of every staple under the sun, from flour and sugar for baking sweets, right down to leavening powders and exotic spices to give them flavor and make them rise.

In the little nook by the stove, flavored oils in a variety of colors now sat beside the salt and pepper staples. Below the nook sat a large bottle of golden honey and what looked like an identical amount of maple syrup along with some clear concoction that he assumed to be ma'zear, a heavy sugary substance used in the making of hard candy and traveling cakes.

The wine rack was now full, and sacks of nuts hung in small-netted bags next to the icebox along with hanging baskets full of vegetables and leafy greens. All the color gave the room a homey feel that it had lacked before. The additions made it seemed lived in and open---a lot less like an over-sized cage.

"We brought you a little bit of everything the market had to offer, and down here you'll find some cookbooks written in your language." The girl opened the cupboard door to reveal a line of neatly stacked books. It wasn't a library but a nice little assortment. Then she opened the icebox, to reveal a fully stocked refrigerator---milk, fresh cream, cheeses and several slabs of meat. As if to answer Rhion's unasked question she said. "Bison, pork bacon and chicken---if you leave us a note in the mornings---here." She pointed to the slate board on the wall. "Then we can bring you anything you desire. And don't be coy with the requests---the prince has a substantial allowance, as do you Lord Rhion."

"You'll find your account records in that drawer." She pointed but didn't touch as if once they'd been placed in there, they were no longer hers to bother. "I hope we got everything you might need."

"I think this is more than enough---I could feed an army with what you've put in here. I'm afraid some of it might go to waste though, it being only the two of us."

"Fruits and vegetables stay good for a very long time here, and the meat and dairy is refreshed daily so you can order just what you need after today."

"Thank you---?" Rhion tilted his head, and smiled slightly. "If I cut my finger chopping greens I'll need some name to yell before I bleed to death!"

"Whisper. It suits you." Rhion's tone made this an honest compliment. "Thanks for all this, Whisper." He grinned a bit. "I hope you like cake, I love to push off my food on to hapless friends."

She bowed slightly, her eyes shining. "I enjoy sweets well enough," she assured him. "And I'd be more than happy to try your--recipes." He realized then that no matter how fluent her words sounded that Whisper's birth language was in fact not the same as Rhion's. "I will be staying in the apartment across the hall from you, as will Correth. One of us will be there at all times to answer any questions or fetch you something you might need."

Rhion turned at the sound of Correth clearing his throat; the boy immediately closed his eyes and made a slight bow at the waist, being far more formal than the girl had been. "You have fresh towels in the bathing area and I've brought an assortment of soaps and oils---we'll refill your favorites. Also, I added a healing kit to the things in the chest---And Whisper of course is available for all the small injuries. If you should need a more serious physician, then I can summon the royal healer."

"We also brought leisure clothes," Whisper chimed in, trying like a child to pull Rhion's attention back to her. "In shades of black and in the colors of autumn as Thaddeus suggested. He told me to tell you he's coming by tomorrow evening with the items you requested and the first of the clothes." The girl seemed for more relaxed than Correth and Rhion wondered if that was cultural, the difference between male and female servants or if Correth was simply more leery of him than the girl was.

Suddenly, the thought of waiting alone till De awoke did not appeal to Rhion. It had been awhile since he'd chatted with anyone just to be sociable; De was many things to him now, but "sociable" didn't seem to be one of his qualities. And it might not be a bad idea to have Whisper nearby in case De had problems beyond that of starving himself!

"Well, to be honest I could use some company." His tone wasn't the demanding one of a master, more a wistful-sounding hope they wouldn't leave just yet. The polite suggestion stopped Correth in his tracks and made Whisper smile brightly.

"Then we shall keep you company until the prince awakens or you have no further need of us." Whisper was obviously delighted, Correth on the other hand looked as though he weren't sure of where to stand---or where to put his hands, finally folding them behind his back and standing at attention like a page boy awaiting instruction.

One look at him and Whisper was giggling openly. "Forgive him, lord Rhion, he was not raised as a demon---but as a servant to Angels, and as I understand it the winged creatures were very formal."

"Oh, Angels, I see." And he did. Kef had had a lot to say about Angels, and not much of it flattering though he did respect their fighting abilities and their beauty. "Well, my teacher used to say that Angels would be almost as perfect as they thought they were, if they managed to reach up and pull the pokers out of their asses!" Rhion winked at Whisper, who burst into uncontrollable giggles while Correth gulped and looked just a hair shocked. Rhion grinned at the sight. "No angels here, Correth, but you stand at attention if that makes you comfortable. I'm gonna whip up some sweets, someone wanna bring me a few square pans while I chop up some fruits and nuts?"

Correth was the first to respond, seeing almost glad he'd been given something to do. He quickly produced the items Rhion requested, asking what preparation they needed. Once he received those instructions he immediately busied himself with the task.

"Are all pure humans golden, like you?" Whisper's questions had an oddity to them, as though she were deeply interested in this fact while being completely oblivious to the world of human beings. She wasn't being rude she was just the kind of person who was naturally forward. Obviously she'd never been forced to play the political game.

"No, we come in a variety of colors---just like demons." She nodded at this as she climbed up on one of the stools across from Rhion to watch as he peeled fruit.

"My birth mother was a human, but I never knew her like a daughter is supposed to know a mother." Whisper paused to take a piece of fruit that Rhion offered her. "They tell me, that she was honey colored like you but as you can see, I own no such color."

"But you're certainly pretty enough, even without it." She smiled at this, pleased with the compliment. "Have you known many humans, Whisper?"

"No purebloods, I've never left the demon lands and the servants here are all of mixed heritage. They tell me that Bloodseeker once had a human companion but he died of old age." She frowned at that. "I've never seen an old person---but they tell me the mountain dwellers age and die." The idea seemed to disturb her, as if dying itself was a useless thing, something that could be cured if enough people joined in to help. "Have you known those which age and die?"

"A handful, not every human can be made immortal. They tell me it's something in our blood. Sometimes the mere turning is a death sentence." She frowned deeply at that, as though she'd never considered this fact before.

"Are you happy here?" For a moment she just stared at him, her face puzzled as if she had no idea why a person would ask that kind of question but she didn't dismiss it. She simply smiled, confused but willing to share her opinions with him.

"Very, Lord Rhion." Rhion was familiar enough with Immortalkind to know that the best reflection of a people was whether or not those who served them were content. Even in the best societies there would be a few unfortunates but for the most part if the servants were well treated, then the people who ruled over them were reasonable.

The boy gave him a soft, knowing smile. "I have a full and happy life here, Lord Rhion." Rhion smiled, handing Correth a piece of fruit, which the boy took and popped into his mouth. "And I'm not just saying that."

"It's a crime among the demons to tell an out and out lie." Whisper announced firmly, it was as if she thought such a statement made it absolutely clear they both spoke the truth.

"You know that's not what I meant." She looked at him then, in the same way a woman might look at a man who was teasing her needlessly and he had to remind himself that even though she looked like a child she probably wasn't.

"Did you happen to stock this place with any chocolate?" It was about time for a subject change, and he was glad that she let him redirect the conversation gracefully.

"Yes, a whole slab rests in the cooling drawer." She pointed, Rhion nodded and Correth finally looked amused rather than so awkwardly stern---a look which seemed peculiar on such a delicate face. Although he squashed most of the grin when Rhion looked toward him, his eyes kept the twinkle of amusement. Silently he offered up a large pile of walnuts that he'd been busily shelling since the start of their conversation.

"Whatever do you mean, Lord Rhion?" But the secret was out there and they both knew it. Beneath that posh, proper exterior was a mischievous kid with a rotten sense of humor.

In fact, he supposed some would say he hadn't grown up much since. Lessa came to mind as one such voice; he shrugged inwardly at the thought and it dissolved like the stale smoke it was.

His eyes danced wickedly at them both as he gravely dipped a spoon in a jar of moist, semi-liquid chocolate he'd discovered near the flavored oils, and tried it out on his tongue. "Bleh!" he stated, with a surprised, mortified look. "No fuckin' sugar!"

Whisper giggled helplessly, and Correth struggled with a mighty suspicious cough as Rhion ran about in comic agitation trying to find a place to spit the foul taste away without being crude and just using the floor as he obviously wanted to do. The boy, rocking with the effort to subdue his amusement, finally managed to catch Rhion's attention with the bowl he was waving. Whisper offered Rhion a fruit-laden drink at almost the same time, shaking her head and smiling as if she suspecting Rhion had staged the whole scene to bring them all to a more equal footing, at least for an hour or two.

Whatever his intent, it worked. For the next hour or so, no demon peeping in on the flurry of industry could have told which of the three bustling, laughing kitchen crew was actually a high noble of the House Carlonday.