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"Your curse. I shouldn't have tried to mess with it.... I think I might have hurt you. And then I went and got hit with backlash, so you had to drag me back here. So I guess thank you is in order too."

She sat up on the bed, pulling up the rich black comforter and wrapping it around her shoulders. The entire room was understated elegance, and that was for sure. The Starkz line did not go all showy. And while Krael might be a demon lord, it would be hard to find someone who went hungry in his kingdoms, human or demon--elegance, he knew, did not always mean expensive, and he'd be the first to hand over a gem if it meant a good night for his soldiers.

Deleyla listened, and there was a horror growing in her eyes. She'd never heard of doing that to anyone, and the only reason Krael had the amount of control he did over her was because she all but worshipped her grandfather. After all, her father had been killed in what most would consider honourable combat, and it had been her grandfather who raised her despite the fact she was a b*****d child. It'd been his decision to give her the family name, nevermind the protests at the fact she was a jaguar and not another dragon.

"But...." She stopped, unsure of what to say. She gently reached down and touched his hair, running her fingers over it gently. "I promise," she said, " that if I can do anything to help, I will." She smiled, but it didn't to hide her reaction.

She looked down at the bed beneath her, flushing slightly that it had been so obvious what she felt. What he spoke of was an entirely different world from her own in spite of the fact she was a demonness.

Unsure of what else to do, she changed the subject, her voice soft and fairly subdued. "I'm glad grandfather didn't kill you," she said. "He's not been very nice to the boys who bring me home beat up before." She, of course, didn't know it was because the cocky little brats had tried to smart off to the man, which was a good way to beg for death. She looked up at the legionairs, who only glanced at her before returning to their near statuesque postions when she gave no sign of wanting something done.

Deleyla giggled a bit as he noticed, and pulled the blanket from around her shoulders, handing it to him. "Here," she said. "Now wait just a moment."

She looked at one of the shadow legionairs, and she didn't even have to say a word--one of them vanished immediately, returning with a set of clothes and soft doeskin boots. The clothes were not the typical wear of the Academy, all jet black silk so fine it caressed skin like a lover's touch with swirls of pale silver embroidery along the collar of the shirt in the patterns of either intricate snowflakes. Deleyla smiled, not even bothering to thank the legionair--they wouldn't respond either way, and they tended to get offended for being thanked for doing what they were supposed to. "There you go," she added sweetly. "It's not Academy, but then I'm sure no one's going to say too much."

"Your welcome," she said, watching him. She rarely wore clothes quite so fine--she was perfectly happy with well-spun cotton, or even linen, and silk was something she only pulled out on special occasions. "I'm glad you like it. I know it's not white, but there aren't a whole lot of clothes these guys can get that aren't black."

Her smile was nigh on radiant this time. "If you want, we can get some lunch while we're here. I'm sure grandfather is making sure that every last pebble in the arena is up to par. He's very strict."

Deleyla stepped off the bed, footstep as delicate as a butterfly's kiss on the floor before she risked putting her weight down. She looked at one of the shadow legionairs, and it said something in a rather brutal language, one that hissed like shadows and scrapped along the nerves.

She smiled, and said, "Through here then." She led him into a small, discreete door that led to a small, personal dining room, all ready set with a small feast--it looked Krael had prepared for their awakening. She sat down in the chair farthest, chairs so comfortable that they begged to be sat in for an eternity.

"I hope you like this," she added, looking at him worriedly over the various steaming meats and fruits. "It's not the fanciest stuff, but grandfather prefers things that he could have on at a camp, or make himself." There was roasted deer, rabbit, a pheasant, along with numerous, common fruits from her tropical home.

Deleyla didn't notice, busy trying to keep mango juice from dripping all over her clothes. Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling--no matter how good her food was here, nothing would ever compare to the tropical feast of her homeland. Somewhere along the way, she had completely disregarded her tail and ears, now looking completely human. Even her eyes, so sharp and icy, were more a normal and clear blue.

As soon as she finished the ripe fruit, she picked up a star-fruit, pulling each arm off and eating it, savouring it. She didn't go anywhere near the meat as she ate, except for a small bit of the rabbit. As odd as it was, she rarely ate meat of any sort. Her grandfather knew it--the meat had been prepared for Cloud, not Deleyla, as Krael never let any guest (be they friend or foe, or even someone he didn't care about) go without a variety of choices.

Quite suddenly, Deleyla spoke up. "Will you come to the fights that use both weapons and magic? They are tomorrow, and I get to fight." She had looked up, almost shyly. Very few people had ever seen her in a magic duel, and even fewer had seen her fight. The fact she would like him to come... well, it was a bit of an offer, to say the least.

(p.s. can we have two charachters)