What's a Mob to a King?

Her steps were silent against the forest floor.

This decision weighed heavily upon her shoulders, though that did not show. To swear her fealty was something that she had done only once, the impulse of a child to a Prince who spoke of his kingdom. The Prince had disappeared, but the reality was the same. Should he call on her, she would answer. Such was her promise.

She’d yet to break a promise.

Karma’s steps didn’t falter as the tunnels came into view. The smell of vampire was a welcome change. It hung in the air like the stench of flowers did to a garden. Her own kind.

No, not her kind. The kind she would become. She was only half of what they were, not yet immortal, not quite human. This played in her favor, of course. A few well-placed words to those with money out in the human world, and she was no longer a threat. How could the claims of her being a vampire make any sense at all? Anyone could feel her pulse, see her go out in sunlight without the aid of Lapis Lazuli. All feedings she’d had recently had been conveniently forgotten, and any claims would have it known that she’d been going through a phase. She was a teenager, after all, and she’d fallen for an almost-demon. Surely that explained some of her odder tendencies.

She was only half of what they feared.

Then she’d disappeared. The word on the street was business training; little did they know the full story of that. The League was adamant about this next part in her plan, for the good of all. She was more interested in the good of herself. Why question that which helped her own plans?

Her walk slowed. A blond vampire slowed as well. Their gazes met, and Karma was sure that there was a flash of recognition in the other woman’s eyes. She hardly looked older than Karma herself, though appearance was a far cry for age. This was Amora, then. The King’s mate.

Perfect.

Her voice was sure, though she bowed slightly, the motion easy with the clothes she was wearing. She hadn’t deigned to dress up – it would be seen as an attempt to seem more than she was, and she was only half of which they wanted – so her usual ensemble of black khakis and cotton was ordinary. Plain. Just as she was.

Just as she appeared to be.

“I’ve come to pledge my fealty to the King.”

The bed was empty when she woke.

The woman sat up, blinking the tiredness from her eyes as her hand ran through her blond hair. Her eyes slid to the bed beside her, but her senses had already accepted Aurmerle’s absence. She had known he wasn’t there, so the check was unnecessary.

Still, her gaze lingered on the vacant sheets, the smallest of pings echoing through her still heart.

Amora was long past the thought of knowing herself. This new her, the one who harbored on a word of a man and longed for his presence, no matter the practicality… She didn’t know herself. Perhaps this was a rediscovery, a rebirth.

She paused in her dressing to make the bed, leaving the rest of the room as it was. Her things hadn’t quite mixed with his, some of her clothing was strewn on the ground, but that was his doing, and she hadn’t gone to pick them up yet. Instead, she returned to her wardrobe, pulling on an easy pair of jeans and a blue tank top. Her necklace was a familiar accessory, the Lapis Lazuli familiar in its presence, in its protection.

Her movements weren’t hurried as she pulled a brush through her hair, transforming tangled mess into soft waves. Next was make up, light and natural. The same she always applied unless trying to impress. She had no one to impress today.

Aurmerle liked her better this way.

It was on her way to the throne room that the sound of an approaching heartbeat gave her pause. Who was this, entering onto their domain so fool heartedly? If it was another Hunter, perhaps they should think of relocating. Then again, no one who had found them had ever escaped.

Instead, it was a girl.

The Halfling.

She had aged since Mora had last seen her, such was the curse of her half immortality. But then, the human aspects of the other being were as compelling as the vampire ones. Her heartbeat was loud in the usual silence, and if the speculations of a few were correct, she could bear children. This one obviously had not yet, but the possibility of it was amazing.

An anger that she kept off her face thrummed through her. It was unfair that this mistake of nature was able to have that which she could not. Of course, if she said she wanted a child, Aurmerle would get one for her, but it was not the same.

It would never be the same.

Blinking the thoughts from her gaze, the woman inclined her head, turning to gesture in the direction of the throne room. This turn of events was predictable. With the humans so antsy now that they were coming into more power, it was only natural for those caught between to choose sides. It was a dangerous game, being the neutral party. Safer to choose a side, as long as it was the right one.

Of course, they were the right one.

“This way.”

There was a heart beating in the lair. Apart from Ethon's own, that was. None of the blood donors were currently in - they never stayed around long; it wasn't safe, really - and Aurmerle had departed approximately an hour and a half prior.

Ethon, insolently seated in his brother's throne (which no one else would even be stupid enough to attempt), turned his gaze towards the door leading to the tunnels. Instinct told him it was not his brother's heartbeat he now heard, which meant that it was somebody else's. He breathed in through his nose, but the person's scent failed to reach him through he closed door.

Leaning back casually, he waited for the person to appear. After all, the heartbeat was drawing nearer and if its owner hadn't been assaulted, yet, then they had a good chance of actually making the throne room.

Her steps were light as she followed after the blond, her gaze sweeping the older woman with little to no regard for how it would look. There was a yearning in the vampire before her, a dislike for her that was deeper than what she showed. Though she was sure that getting on the bad side of the king's mate... or concubine... or whatever... wasn't exactly a good idea, she couldn't quite resist.

"Immortality must be such a gift." She mused lightly, eyes trained on the ground. "I wonder what you had to give up for it, other than you know... a beating heart, no dependency on blood... the ability to have children..." She smiled angelically at the woman's reaction, barely struggling against the force of her hand at her throat.

"Listen here, metà, being immortal is one of the best things that's ever happened to anyone, and you should appreciate it, seeing as it's half of who you are."

"Had a problem coming to terms with it, did yo-" It was suddenly impossible to breathe, and instead of gasping for it, she decided to stop breathing completely, struggling more pronounced. She was pretty sure that if her neck was broken, she'd heal... but that wasn't full proof. She hadn't tried it, that was for sure.

"What does Aurmerle need with a half? Your alliance means nothing. It would make me much happier to just let you die." She had stuck a chord in the woman she hadn't expected to, but that was neither here nor there.

There was a moment, a very short, fine moment, where she was sure she was going to die. A face floated in her mind's eye, a giggling child, his father holding him up in the air.

Come on, Tyurma. We have to go. We promised to take this one to the park!

Oxygen, suddenly, and she opened her eyes to see the blond staring at her.

"What did you just say?" She demanded, shaking her roughly.

"Sorry." Karma said softly, the fight in her vanished, and she gazed up at the blond, brown eyes sad. "I said I'm sorry."

There was a pause, then the blond disappeared, vanished down the tunnels as if she'd never been there. Rather than dwell on it, Karma rubbed her neck, heading toward the doors that she was sure the woman had been heading for. Pushing it open with a shoulder, she staggered in, gaze sweeping the mostly empty room before it landed on the throne.

"Ethon?" She asked, blinking owlishly before rubbing her eyes. "You know, if you're the king of the vampires, this won't be as hard as I thought."

Ethon tilted his head to one side when the bearer of the heartbeat stopped advancing for a moment. Just as he was able to hear his or her footsteps, too. He wondered which of the denizens had caught up to their guest as he heard the pulse accelerate. He was certain the heartbeat was about to come to an abrupt, or perhaps even a gradual, halt, but it didn't. Instead, the faint yet distinct sound of running vampire feet disappeared down the tunnel and the living person continued living.

Interesting.

Though, not nearly as interesting as who the owner of said heart turned out to be. Ethon's head canted the other direction as first the girl's scent entered the room, followed very shortly by her physical form. He rotated around so that he was sitting properly in the chair, instead of having his legs over one of the arms.

"Karma," he greeted, giving a soft chuckle. Ethon rose fluidly from the throne, his movements only vaguely less human than those he executed in public as he put his hands into his pockets.

"The king of the vampires?" he echoed, stepping forward. An amused smile overtook his handsome features, his blue-grey eyes glittering with mirth. "Oh, I'm not. Not at all. My younger brother is the king. I'm more... I guess you'd call me his advisor."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she watched his movements, something in the back of her mind bothering her. "Your brother?" She asked, tilting her head to the side in an unconscious imitation of him. "Does that make you royalty?"

Karma's eyes scanned the room, lingering on the throne slightly before continuing around, obviously taking stock in everything they rested on. Her focus never exactly left the man before her, however, nor did he actually leave her line of sight.

"We're the only heartbeats here." She observed lightly, eyes sweeping him. "And you look different."

"Some believe that it does," Ethon replied. "Amora being among them, last that I knew. Whatever did you say to make her throttle you?"

It was different, the way he put her on edge now when he hadn't really done so before. Not after she was assured he was not his maker, at least. Perhaps it was her surroundings rather than he that made her wary, though. The man moved in a lazy circle around the room - around her - subsequently making it a bit more difficult to keep an eye on him while taking in the chamber.

"We are," confirmed Ethon, adding, "There are no humans in the lair at this time."

His face broke into a grin and he laughed. "Do I really? Odd, considering I do not age. I look just the same now as when I was really two-and-twenty. Pray, tell how do I look different? Are you entirely certain it is not just the setting?"