To Bewitch a Devil

Hands held her, and she was turned to face up. Her name was called again, and she rubbed away the soil from her face, blinking straight into the worried face of Azriel.

“Are you okay? Speak to me! Are you fine?” Azriel asked. He didn’t wait for her to respond, and he checked her body, turning her this way and that like she was a rag doll.

“You’ve got bruises, and maybe even broken bones. Goodness, Pen, you were like a flightless bird back there. What were you thinking?”

The hooves of horse sounded, and soon, Neera was standing in her line of vision, her face heartbreakingly perturbed.

“Pen!” Neera gasped. “Oh my, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I really am. Tira is usually an obedient mare, and I don’t know why she didn’t stop. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

The apologies kept coming, and Penelope had to hold a palm up to stop the Queen. It was Azriel, however, that had strong hands gripping her, and when she looked up at his face, she saw his anger was directed at Neera.

“You shouldn’t have put her on a horse. She can’t ride one alone.” He said, his voice curt.

“I know, I am sorry, truly...”

.....

“She could have died,” Azriel said. “It’s a careless thing you did, your Majesty.”

Penelope grew alarmed by his statement, and she pushed herself to sit, already seeing the tears of regret fill Neera’s eyes.

“Neera, I am fine. And no, I couldn’t have died. Even though I was scared, I still had fun...”

“Stop it, Pen. This isn’t something you can try to make a light situation of.” Azriel said.

“But I am not, my Lord.”

“You’ve got bruises, Pen.”

Penelope examined her arms, and there were only a few scratches from the stalks of the plants she landed on, but other than that, she felt fine.

“Let me stand and shake my body, to put your mind at ease that I am truly fine.” She said, pushing her body off the ground. But she wasn’t able to even lift herself up before Azriel held her down.

“Don’t move.” He warned.

“I’ve been through worse, my Lord. This is nothing.”

“Stop trying to downplay it, and stop talking, Pen,” he said. Penelope could see the vein ticking in his jaw, and that was the sign she needed to see to stop talking. Angering him even further might mean she would have to follow him back to the estate, and he would haul her if he had to.

Penelope looked at where Neera was standing and saw she wasn’t there anymore. Perhaps she went to get help. It was already fast becoming an uncomfortable situation.

She didn’t say anything as Azriel held her, her back resting on one of his crouched thighs and her legs over the other. He watched her, and she wondered what was running through his mind, if he was faring well back at the estate, if his duties were not too heavy for him to shoulder on some days, and if he missed her there.

What were those thoughts doing in her head anyways?

It wasn’t like having him tell her his thoughts would do anything to her, or that his welfare wasn’t handled by the best, be it doctors or guards, or that she could provide assistance if he felt burdened by leading an army of great warriors, or even if he did miss her, to whose benefit was it anyways?

He was a demon, she was a human. He was a master, she was a maid.

A reminder that had always worked fine, most of the time.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Azriel asked all of a sudden.

Penelope blinked back her surprise. She hadn’t known she had been staring.

“I... I...,” she racked her head for the right words. “I was only waiting, my Lord. I must have gotten carried away.”

Azriel smirked. “I’ve been told my face has that power.”

“Not by your face. By my thoughts.” She clarified for him.

“Sure, believe the lies you tell yourself. Want to share some with me?” He asked.

“Some what?”

“Some of your thoughts.”

“Erm...no ”

“What if I pay you for them? A gold per thought?”

“Why are you obsessing over having my thoughts, my Lord?”

Azriel simply stared at her in that way that made goosebumps break on her skin. Penelope couldn’t look away, yet the squirmy urge to do so intensified as the seconds ticked away at a rather uncomfortable pace.

“I don’t know, Pen,” he said, and a hand reached to clear back the remaining strands stuck to her face. “I don’t know, other than I just want to know.”

He looked almost morose, as if sad about something, and before Penelope could drive in the courage to ask him about his thoughts, and why his mood was suddenly dampened like a wet rag had been tossed over his teasing, Neera was back, and she had the medicine box with her.

“We’d just do the cleaning and have a doctor look at you at once,” Neera said as she brought out cotton wools and cleaning alcohol. She held up bandages. “Just in case of infections,” she said.

Penelope shook her head, but Azriel took charge of the situation. He cleaned Penelope’s arms, and thankfully, didn’t bandage her as Neera had suggested. When he was satisfied and done, he lifted Penelope in his arms.

“My Lord!” Penelope cried out. “I am perfectly capable of walking myself.”

“Not until your bones have been examined,” Azriel simply said as he walked on. Penelope looked to Neera for help, but the Queen followed after him, her silence an obvious agreement to his actions.