Cassandra woke up with a faint smile on her face, not entirely sure why in the first few moments of her consciousness. She felt strangely energize, having had a restful sleep, yet confused why this was so when she usually felt beat after pulling a long shift in the tavern the night previous. Catching sight of her own naked body reminded her of what had transpired last night and she remembered every caress and every kiss exchanged between her and the Acolyte. A guilty shiver of pleasure coursed through her slender frame, widening her smile a little further as the memory replayed itself in her mind. Her bare hands, free from the black gloves that covered the marks of Krysus, clutched at the sheets reflexively. It had been a good night, despite her initial misgivings. She knew she should be feeling horrible about it, especially when the realization came that she had just cheated on her lover, but she could not help herself. It had been very good last night. And Keating sleeps with other women, she rationalized, feeling a sudden surge of anger at the man. Why couldn't I - The dark-haired woman did not finish the thought as her gaze shifted to the window. The light seemed to be coming in wrong... Pulling the blanket and wrapping it around her chest, Cassandra stood up and peered out the sill. The reflection of the sun could be seen in the waters of the lake below, showing its position to be directly above. "I'm late!" she gasped. Cassandra whirled around in a rush to get dressed. The blanket wrapped itself around her leg however, and she fell to the floor with a thump. Disentangling it from her body, she threw the offending object back to the bed and scrambled towards her wardrobe to fish for a fresh set of clothing, not caring if the occupants of the building across from hers could see her naked form. Black fingerless gloves came on first, Cassandra so used to putting them on that it was almost always the first article of clothing she wore. She caught sight of the washbasin on the table and the gloves came off again as she moved off to freshen her face up a bit. A sip from a cup of water poured from a nearby pitcher soon followed as she washed the taste of the Acolyte from her mouth before she went back to dressing herself. Gloves, skirt and blouse soon covered her like a second set of skin. Slipping into her sandals, she grabbed her apron and then bolted out the door, pausing only long enough to lock it. And then it was a quick run down the stairs from there and an even quicker run across the Nitrozian plaza as she made a beeline for the Silver Sliver. Her long fingers combed through her tangled hair all the while as she ran. Cassandra had opened the door to the tavern when she remembered something important. In her hurry to get to work, she had forgotten to put on underwear. But the bartender was already gesturing for her to come over; she could not run back to her apartment. She knew she was in trouble. She had already missed half her shift that day. Biting her lower lip in apprehension, she shuffled over to the man. Her cheeks flushed red when he pointed out that Trevinus was back and he was waiting for her. Meekly, helplessly, she walked over to her visitor. The Acolyte gestured for her to sit down, and guilt and excitement warred within Cassandra's heart as she obeyed. While their clandestine union the previous night was purely a physical affair, she found herself enamored to the man and she could not understand why. He was attractive enough to be true, yet she had given herself to another and would never have considered being untrue to him. So why was it she felt this way for this other man before her? It had all started out forced the night before but now the mere presence of him made her want to throw her arms around him and be lost in the bliss of his physicality. Had he woven a spell upon her? Trevinus waved one of the barmaid over and ordered for them a meal. Cassandra, remembering that such was her job as well, tried to stand up, knowing that her fellow serving girl would not appreciate serving her. "Milord, there's no need to...I mean, I can get it for..." But it was too late. The Acolyte had already ordered and the withering stare passed to her by her coworker left Cassandra lowering herself back into the chair slowly, misery and guilt clouding her features. She thought of all the demeaning tasks they would force upon her later for the slight: endless washing of dishes, scrubbing the floors clean, cleaning spills and hauling the garbage to the dump outside the city. She did not get the chance to dwell upon it for very long, however, as Trevinus asked her about her mark. He spoke as if it was the most natural thing to bring up, like the weather perhaps, or how she liked her steak done. Cassandra suddenly felt paranoid. An image of the citizenry gathering in arms and demanding for her death. Her mark had made her a murderer after all. And nobody really liked Krysus, or her chosen. Cassandra felt like a target. But how could she tell someone as powerful as Trevinus to keep his mouth shut? "It's...no, milord. I-I have to hurt people because of it. Every...every day." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as she feared that the people around her might overhear. Most of the tavern patrons and the other serving girls were victims of plenty of her hurtful acts - from 'accidental' scratchings to stepping onto people's toes to splashing hot gravy on an exposed patch of skin of a coworker. Among others. She had a long list of misdeeds. "I do not want to hurt others but-but if I don't, it would make me feel pain. It gets worse if I ignore it. In a few days, if I don't do anything about it, I...I would die. In horrible pain. M'lord." He offered to help her, to give her, as he called it, "a legal outlet for the mark". Or even...remove it? Priskil be praised, can these agent of evil truly be able to rid her of that accursed Krysus mark? Her heart soared in hope...only to promptly crash down in flames. The mark gave Cassandra a connection to the goddess, and she knew, somehow, that it would be favorably received if she tried to get rid of something "gifted" to her. Krysus was a jealous and unstable goddess and she would likely punish her if she attempted such a thing, most likely by turning her mark into a negative one. Or making it worse that it currently was. Cassandra paled visibly. "I-I thank you for the most gracious offer, milord, but I...I fear I might be punished if I...if I forsake this...this blessing." Cassandra looked up at the man fearfully, afraid that she might have given offense for having turned him down. Would she be punished by him as well? He was a servant of Rhysol after all, and her rejection might be taken as an insult to his god. The city belonged to the lord of chaos, and to hold another deity in higher regard than him, even in fear, was just asking for trouble. But the Acolyte had bidden her to speak and Cassandra did. |