She was long. In fact, she took as long as she dared, taking full minutes to stare at herself in the mirror and try to calm herself down. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, and a heaviness was at the back of her throat.

He was back, and there was nothing she could do about it. Apparently now she was not even allowed to be out of his sight unless it was so the bathroom. It was obvious he had not had hope with Ventrua, and Stare honestly felt a pit of despair there, for the half-goddess as well as Vitruvion whose world was being hammered in several places. Raevin was severely injured, and needing to stay in Radasanth where he could gain treatment. Tinash, Vitruvion’s closest friend in the Hollow, was dead. The ships in the merchant business that brought the fabrics from across the world to Beinost had been reduced to one now, with it needing more money poured in for security. And now Ventrua was missing, gone from their lives so suddenly and not even a plethora of gods and queens knew where she was …

So it made sense that Vitruvion wanted her close by. Stare just wished he could have done it more subtly, and not let his anger rule his actions to drag her back to him like she was some vagabond. The public display, even in front of Sable and Blaze made it worse, for it showed the capabilities that he had and his willingness to be violent towards her.

Still. After everything. At least he could be content that she did as he told her, and their relationship had gotten to the point where she was far more willing to serve him. Hope still blossomed in her chest of a better world where he was a better man, and one sign that it was happening was the fact he had not ‘entertained’ Blaze or Sable for three months.

Though that could simply be that he had lost his appetite for sex because of the situation.

Stare sighed at herself, rubbing at her beak as she realised the time for the interval to end was only in a couple of minutes. Leaning away from the sink she checked that she still looked presentable, as Vitruvion would wish and opened the door to the corridor.

He was there himself, pacing. Zulon and Jordain were still there along with Eirik, quietly in the background. As soon as she stepped out Vitruvion stopped, twisting around to glare emphatically at her.

“I told you to not be long,” he snarled, eyes mad.

She took in a long, exhaustive breath, dropping her gae to the floor. “I needed time. To myself. You know that.”

“I still told you not to be, Stare. Yet you were. Specifically against what I said.”

“Yes, sir,” was the only thing she could manage, her hands curling into fists, as threats of tears began to swell up behind her eyes. Vehemently, she fought them. Tears would not come, not in a thousand years.

He was silent for some time. So she took a step forwards, back in the direction of the box.

He moved faster. Rapidly he started the few steps that separated their distance and she let out a honestly frightened gasp. Quickly pressing herself up against the wall she was by she dug claws into flesh, breathing accelerating as she prepared to be pummelled, assaulted, sworn at, shouted at, whatever he was going to do. And she would stand there, and take it, because she knew his anger was fueled by something far darker than just fury at her for taking so long in the toilet. Because she knew there was horror beyond what her life had been in the Hollow. Because she knew there were more horrible villains beyond him, who could be making her life more of a miserable hell and did not want her to leave their sight simply because he wanted to protect her …