Keishen had been watching the Deathseeker sleep for nearly three hours from the rickety oak chair in the corner of Faust’s room. Extreme grace and subtlety allowed the deadly woman to remain unnoticed by Eve’s heightened senses though she suspected the younger woman would eventually discover her presence. In the meantime the sapphire-haired mistress of the house was quite content with her drink and lounged demurely about as she sipped from a glass of sparkling white wine.
Wake up Eve. Don’t make me wait too long.
The gossamer gown Keishen wore shifted caught on a cool wind wafting in from the partially open window. The icicles suspended from the seal refracted the picturesque moonlight and cast its frosty luminance about the black stucco walls. The same brilliant radiance cascaded fluidly over his crimson bed sheets. Here Eve lay fast asleep, awash in the divine rays. It struck the seer as odd that she would find her former nemesis asleep in her elder son’s bed; she knew the girl’s scent far too well to let deceit dupe her. The smell of fresh rainwater was almost overwhelming from this vantage, yet for six years it burned unrelenting in her nostrils, charged with only a tinge of ever present uncertainty and, above all, blood. This porcelain angel appeared far too delicate to be the fabled killer of men.
“Never judge a book by its cover.” The cliché rolled from her lips, heavy with sarcasm.
And this too Keishen took pride in, knowing that while others may have done the girl serious harm, she was the only one who took that life. A moment passed in which she allowed self-achievement to fill her. However, it melted away as she stared again at the woman lying before her. Somehow Eve surpassed the odd, death itself, and returned with righteous passion guiding her blade or so she had come to translate it. Few men ever bested her in combat, yet the Deathseeker was no man or ordinary opponent which made the contest much more enjoyable. This one was truly unique.
“You’re not going to sleep all day, are you?”
The chair creaked noisily as the woman let her cautious guise fall. With a haughty air she inclined her head and crossed her legs, letting the fanciful cloth flourish in the cool wind. Impatience edged her multitoned voice.