Lycan's Affection
Running for Life

"Who was it?"

Eleanor turned to Conaan. He was still standing by the edge of the bed, his eyes slightly thinned, his right brow raised.

She swallowed, then pushed her hair behind her ears, smoothening her hands over her dress. "Well...I am not sure, but...it can wait, I know. You should take a bath and eat. You haven't eaten in so long."

He raised a brow. "Are you sure it is not important?"

She gave a small sigh. "You are going to attend to it after that bath. I will make it quick."

For the first few seconds, he simply watched her, a little skeptical, but said nothing more. Slowly, he closed the distance, then walked towards the door.

The bath house rippled with the scent of warmth and flowers, and Conaan closed his eyes as he sank beneath, a small sigh escaping him. He slowly emerged, as Eleanor leaned forward, sinking her hands into his hair, moving slowly.

It felt good, and he closed his eyes, leaning back to her as she rested on the edge.

"Tell me where it feels best," She said, moving further, her hand moving to his shoulders.

He sighed a little, then slowly broke away from her. "I can not spend all day here."

"You can at least enjoy a bath," Eleanor said, sighing.

"I know," he said, stepping out of the bath to dry off. "When they pay."

Eleanor stayed there for a bit longer, her hands still wet, a small sigh escaping her lips. She heard as the door closed, and she closed her eyes. She would give anything to have Conaan back.

The man whom she had a duel with right here. If she had known, she would have kissed him here instead. Held on to him so hard, and never let him go.

Slowly, she stood up, then walked away from the bath house, leaving all the perfect memories behind the closed door.

Jamie gave a small cough as Shadow emerged, his eyes trained on his wound. He slowly peeled off the bandage, then sighed again. The wound was not completely healed, but he was strong enough now.

He could not wait till he was completely healed, as he knew the palace would be in turmoil. He had to hand Jenna over.

"We are leaving immediately," he announced, then grabbed the cloak. It was torn, bit it would still work, and he wrapped it around him, then turned to Jenna.

"Sir, please. Please reconsider and..."

"Do not waste your breath. You will need to explain to His Highness later."

Jenna gave an exasperated sigh, then turned to Jamie. He was still sitting on the floor, his hands tied behind him. Shadow walked to him, then pulled him to a standing position.

"Come with me," he said to Jenna, who swallowed hard, her fists clenching as he walked past her holding Jamie.

Jamie turned to her, his eyes wide, I'm then a vehement protest. Jenna turned, lacking option. She prayed for forgiveness, but she had already come this far.

Slowly, just as Shadow got to the door, a small limp to his steps, Jenna reached for the massive base sitting by the corner of the only couch in the sitting room.

Her steps were quiet, and before Shadow could pick on something that was wrong, she had aimed for the back of his head, hitting it hard.

For a second, nothing happened. He stopped walking, the surprise in his eyes, efficiently mirrored in Jamie's, just efficiently splattered in bright colors of fear.

"Jenna," Jamie said, his voice lightly shaky.

She turned to him, a tear drop falling. "I had no option. The King will kill us and...it was not my fault! It was not my fault!"

"You are getting us in more trouble! He is the king's spy, for goodness sake, Jenna. Even of the King would forgive us for being indirectly involved with his best friend's death, do you think..."

Jamie trailed off, just as Shadow suddenly let go of him, then fell to the floor, his hand cradling the back of his head. Jenna turned, dropping the vase, and without another word to Jamie, bolted out the door, her eyes holding a wild craze in then, her hair dishevelled.

Jamie didn't waste a second and he followed suit, leaving Shadow lying on the floor, half conscious.

Back at the palace, Conaan fixed the robe around him. White. He rarely did wear any white robes, bit now he was mourning.

He blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, then grabbed the square head dagger he always carried now. He knew a sword would not do enough justice to Brandon's killer, and he filly intended to chop the culprit off limb by limb.

He saw Eleanor's reflection in the mirror as she stood behind him, uncertainty in the way she stood. She was quiet, and he could see she was in her own feelings too, her eyes sad.

He bit down on his kips, then slowly turned to her, his eyes the only image of tender he could now muster.

"What are you doing so far away?"

She swallowed. "I...I am not sure you wanted someone close."

In truth, he did not. He wanted to wallow in this pain, till he could quench the fires of revenge. It was half of the reason he lived.

He gave a small sigh, then covered the distance to her. She sucked in a breath ad his fingers gently cupped her face, and he leaned to her.

"It will be fine. That is a promise, Eleanor."

She nodded, then smoothened his robe, fixing the buttons. "I will not be accompanying you downstairs."

He gave a small laugh. "You have nothing to worry about."

She smiled, then nodded, letting go of him. "Take care, my love."

He nodded, realizing how much he missed the little moments he used to have with her. Slowly letting her go, bit vowing to be back soon enough, he walked out the door.

Eric was sweating profusely as he looked around, his hand clasped in his, his chest lightly heaving.

"His Highness is approaching!" Came the announcement, and he felt a lump rise in his chest, the fear overwhelming him.

He felt a sudden rush of cold, and if Conaan had not appeared just then, he was sure he would have bolted.

Conaan slowly went around him, his eyes thin and scrutinising. "You are not lycan."

More than fear, he felt awe. Completely dumbstruck at the sheer majesty of the man who stood before him.

He swallowed, then slowly went on his knees. "Yo...your majesty...more...more than anything, Your Majesty...I am your sinner."

"Go straight to the point."

Eric swallowed, the fear filling him up once more. "I...Your Highness...I was...I was..."

"Speak."

Eric turned to face him, his lips quivering. "I...I witnessed Brandon's...murder."