Cleopatra's hazel eyes were sharp and furious. "I do not object," she stated, again horrified by the weak sound of her own voice. She reached up and brushed her fingers over her throat, feeling the indent where her choker had been pressed into her neck.
From the group of courtiers, Petra was sobbing into her hands. A guard made for her and gripped her upper arm, looking to Cleopatra for confirmation. She shook her head, and the guard let go of Petra.
Suddenly, the queen could feel her eyes stinging with tears. She couldn't cry. No, she wouldn't. Not here, in front of everyone and Corym.
"Excuse me," she whispered before fleeing from the room. Charmion, her devoted handmaiden, was at her heels, but Cleopatra waved her hand to dismiss her.
Drâcoś wore a smug smirk and looked at Corym. "She knows I'm right."
Corym was surprised to find himself actually concerned about Cleopatra as she raced out of the room. He didn't blame her as he felt her reaction was normal for anyone who had been attacked. But it still seemed strange coming from the usually stubborn assertive woman.
“Hold your tongue before you lose it, scum!” Corym whirled at the man before directing his cold gaze to his captain. “Get him out of here before someone does something they regret.” he instructed firmly before walking out of the room. He cast a quick glance at his sister, who nodded. She was a bit shaken but she was alright and could handle things for a while.
Cleopatra bolted through the halls. The beautiful scenery began to blur around her as her vision became clouded by tears. Why was it hurting this badly? Not the aftermath of his arm around her throat – that was traumatic in itself. His words. It was Drâcoś's words that stung her the most. The thrice-crowned queen had a reputation, sure, but she also took pride in herself and her accomplishments. And in one fell swoop, a courtier from a kingdom she had already conquered destroyed her entire persona. She was the whore, the slut of a queen who didn't deserve her throne. Who conquered kingdoms only to sleep freely with the courtiers of the former monarch. Or their wives.
Finally, she stopped and leaned against the wall. No doubt her makeup, which had looked beautiful before the encounter, was all smudged and now running in tear tracks down her cheeks. Just when had she actually started crying? Cleopatra covered her mouth to keep quiet while her body was racked with sobs. For once, she let her guard down and didn't feel the need to keep up with appearances. But goddesses, she looked pathetic.
Corym knew these halls like the back of his hand and was able to follow them quickly, managing to catch up with Cleopatra when she finally stopped running. He made sure that his steps were loud enough to be heard, he didn't want to startle her but he also knew he was probably one of the last people that she would want to see. But it was still his responsibility to check on her as she was a guest.
He cleared his throat softly as he got closer and took off his cloak, draping it over her shoulders. “Don't let him get to you.” he said surprisingly gently.
Cleopatra heard someone approaching, but she didn’t turn around. Dammit, I want to be left alone! Why is that so hard for people to understand that?
“Charmion, please,” Cleopatra hissed, but she whirled around, shocked, as she heard the person clear their throat. Corym?!
The powerful queen quickly blinked, trying to compose herself quickly. And failing. She accepted his cloak, feeling his warmth wrap around her. “Thank you,” she whispered, purposefully not looking at him.
Corym could understand her desire to be alone, often preferring it himself, but right now… It seemed better to make sure that she would be alright.
“I believe I remember that man. He was always bitter about something and too full of himself for his title,” he said in the same gentle tone. Was he trying to be comforting? He had never really done this before. “Are you… Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes trailing down to the angry red mark around Cleopatra’s neck.
Cleopatra scoffed, then winced. As stupid as it sounded, she kept forgetting that her throat was recovering from being nearly choked to death. "That's probably why he and fucking Bertram got along so well," she snarled quietly, referring to the former king of Peidest with newfound spite.
But her entire demeanor softened as she watched Corym look down at her neck. It still hurt like a bitch. "I think so," she responded in more of a hoarse whisper. Deciding to take it easy on her vocal cords right now probably wouldn't hurt. "Does it look bad?" she asked hesitantly.
Corym gave a hum of agreement, his lips briefly twitching against a smirk. “I was never fond of him either. Though I admit that the number of people I am fond of is a short list.” he quipped, almost playfully.
“That’s good.” he said as he gently placed his fingers under her jaw, lifting her head up slightly so he could get a better look. “I don't think you’ll need to see a healer.” he informed. “But you should rest your voice so it can recover… I think I remember a minor remedy you can take to help heal faster and soothe your throat.”
Cleopatra arched an eyebrow at his quip. "I doubt I'm anywhere close to that list," she whispered, her own lips pulling into a smirk of their own.
She swallowed as his fingers gently touched her jaw, and the action made her wince slightly with pain. "Anything you have would be appreciated," Cleopatra relented quietly. Part of her couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. She hated Corym. Corym hated her. And now… he was helping her? She took into account the sympathy in his gaze. Was she really that pathetic that he was feeling sorry for her?
No, she thought. Stop assuming the worst. He wants to help you. Let him.
But another thought occured to the queen. "You didn't answer my question," she hissed softly. "Does it look bad?" Even quieter, she added, "Will it bruise?"
Corym raised a brow at her soft comment and shrugged. “You do you have your own way of being irritating.” he said simply, though he wasn't sure where on that list she actually ranked. Right now she didn't seem like the same annoying woman who detested him and he didn't feel anything negative toward her at the moment either.
“My apologies.” he whispered when he saw her wince and gently removed his hand. But he almost smiled as Cleopatra accepted his offer, giving her a nod. “I can arrange that.”
He sighed a little as she repeated her question and gave a single nod. “I suspect it will. The bastard had you in a strong grip. Though I do not believe it will last long.” he admitted.
Cleopatra rolled her eyes. "Only around you, dear Corym," she teased lightly, though she said nothing more for the moment. Why did she really hate him? She could barely remember a single moment that sparked their feud. It was like from the moment they met, their personalities clashed. She was headstrong, and so was he. Both were powerful, influential leaders who wanted to stand in their own way. Was that why she had always resented Corym?
She focused again as he removed his fingers from her chin. Where they had been had warmed slightly under his touch, but Cleopatra quickly tried not to think about that. "No, it wasn't you," she whispered. "Swallowing hurts." Now, why had she said that? Was it her vulnerability after just being attacked?
The queen exhaled shortly. "Yes, I'm aware," she whispered, reaching up and lightly touching her skin. "He pulled my hair too. Hurt like fucking hell."
“Of course. I expect nothing less.” Corym smirked faintly, recognizing this side of Cleopatra easily. It was unusual how in any other setting, this banter would be annoying. But right now it was almost assuring… But why? Why was it so infuriating when the two did this verbal swordplay every time they saw each other?
He nodded at her assurance, actually a little relieved that he hadn't been the one to hurt her. “I see. Then I feel I should warn you. That remedy I mentioned, it's a drink. But it goes down easily. It shouldn't hurt.” he informed.
“Of course, you are.” he shook his head. “You would know better than anyone… I’m sorry.”
Cleopatra returned his smirk. "As you should," she whispered, though she winced as she had to swallow again. "By the gods," she hissed. "I wish this pain would go away. How soon would I be able to take your remedy?"
Her expression softened at his apology. "It's alright, Corym," she murmured, suddenly very aware of the way his cloak sat on her shoulders and fell around her form. "And… I owe you my thanks. You're the only one who stopped Drâcoś from killing me then and there." She shook her head slowly, her honey waves swaying with the motion. "For a moment… his grip was so tight… I could feel his anger… I thought I was going to die."
“Come with me.” he nodded as he held out his hand to her. “Everything we need should be in the kitchens.” he informed, understanding her desire to feel better.
Corym was not expecting her gratitude or the soft confession but nodded again, sincerely. “I acted as any honorable ruler should. You are my guest and I could not allow anyone to hurt you.” he explained, feeling his ear twitch showing his embarrassment. “You don't have to explain it.” he assured gently.
Cleopatra slipped her hand into his. Her golden rings brushed over his skin, but she still felt the relative smoothness of his palm underneath her own. It was unexplainably pleasing. In a slight contrast, her palm was more weathered from holding a sword or the reins of her horse, though it was still soft in its own way. Her hand may have looked small in his, but there was a hidden strength underneath her fingers.
She listened to his words and glanced up at him in time to note the brief twitch of his ear. He only did that when he was angry, irritated, or embarrassed. By the gods, why do I know that? she thought at the realization. His words didn't sound angry, so was he irritated that he had to save his worst enemy or… embarrassed? Embarrassment over what?
"Still," Cleopatra whispered, hesitating for a moment before voicing what was on her mind. "I wasn't sure if you would. I suppose a part of me thought you'd enjoy watching me get strangled to death in your own reception hall." She shook her head and laughed hoarsely. "Goddesses, that sounds so ridiculous when I say it out loud."
Corym forced himself to swallow as she accepted his hand and started leading the way. He couldn't help but feel every callous that rubbed against his palm. It was to be expected from a warrior queen like Cleopatra but he was still… perhaps a little jealous of them. He trained and practiced plenty as well as all the paperwork he did but his hands were still soft compared to hers.
He paused in his steps for a moment and looked back at her, his shock apparent in his expression. “Why would you think that of me? Do you dislike me so much that you would think I would take pleasure in your pain?” he asked. “I admit that we have never gotten along on anything since we first met. But I am not that kind of man.” he explained.
Cleopatra was too focused on Corym's hand holding hers that she almost missed when he stopped walking. Her hazel eyes widened and studied his face at his words and expression.
She pursed her lips slightly and responded as evenly as she could. "I suppose, yes I did. Though I thought it was your dislike of me that would have led you to do nothing. But, as strange as this sounds, I think this entire ordeal has… helped me better understand you." Her words were surprisingly honest.
Corym met her gaze more calmly than when he had spoken. He nodded slowly, and thoughtfully as he listened to her reply. It stung to know that she had thought of him that way but… “I am glad of that much at least. Though I regret the circumstances that led to our understanding.” he admitted softly before resuming their walk.
But his mind kept racing as he went over everything. Did he dislike her? He disliked how they clashed like swords every time they were in the same room. He disliked her plan/desire to conquer every kingdom in her path. And he often wondered why she was so set on it. Why couldn't she accept peace… But did he dislike her? He wasn't sure anymore.
Cleopatra pursed her lips slightly. "As do I," she whispered before following his lead once again. "But I am not ungrateful for it."
The truths coming out of her mouth shocked the thrice-crowned queen. She questioned herself repeatedly whether she disliked Corym because of his personality or simply because of who he was – another monarch standing in the way of her goal. Because… he didn't seem like the awful person she had always thought him to be. Gods, he had saved her life when no one else dared to approach Drâcoś in his fit of rage against her. She truly might be dead without Corym intervening. And she couldn't very well hate him if she was dead.
Corym was unsure how to respond to her second comment about being ungrateful. “You should rest your voice until we get to the kitchen.” he said instead.
He tried to focus on their surroundings so that he could get to the kitchen quickly. Back in the banquet hall, he hadn't thought about much. He had just reacted on what he knew was the right thing to do. He was sure he would have done the same thing if anyone else had been attacked.
( >And she couldn't very well hate him if she was dead.< OMG!!! 🤣🤣🤣)
(I'm honestly not sure where my mind goes when I write Cleopatra, but what comes out is usually pretty interesting! And sometimes, I get a nugget of gold like that 😂)
Cleopatra pressed her lips together and obliged him by not saying another word. Though she didn't like having to listen to him, she supposed that – for the moment – it wouldn't hurt.
Her eyes tracked down the hallway ahead of them, and again, she was suddenly very aware that Corym was holding her hand. What was the matter with her? Typically, she loathed people holding her hand. So why had she suddenly forgotten about that when Corym had extended his hand for her to take? There were too many confusing thoughts pooling in her mind.
(Apparently! And that was pure gold! 🤣)
Corym hadn't thought much of it when he offered his hand to her, other than a polite gesture and a way to guide her through the palace. A part of him hadn't even expected her to accept it. But now that they were actually holding hands, he couldn't help but find it distracting as he felt every callous and the few places on her hand that were still soft.
His mind and heart were racing as he found the kitchen and lead Cleopatra to a more secluded area. “We should have everything we need in here.” he commented, not sure if he was talking to her or himself before, surprisingly regretfully taking his hand back and began to gather the necessary ingredients.
(I'm sorry, she has a one-track mind… and it's dirty)
Cleopatra let her hand fall at her side as Corym released their grip. She didn't speak in reply and instead nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure if he was even paying attention to her. Her eyes took in the area of the kitchen he had led her too. It didn't escape her notice that it was a bit more closed off than the rest of the area. Concealed and tucked away. Out of sight.
No.
The thought came quickly, and she visibly shook her head as if to stop herself from thinking whatever she was about to be thinking. Sure, this spot would be perfect for a bit of sultry action… but definitely not now. Not with Corym. No, she hated him still. Didn't she?
(It's ok. I kinda figured that about her.)
Unlike the woman with him, Corym was solely focused on preparing the remedy. He had chosen to work here because it would give the kitchen staff room to work without either of them getting in the way.
The space was still well-supplied and just as functional as the normal kitchen but perhaps closer in size to one found in a normal everyday person's home. “Could… Could you hand me that jar on the shelf next to you?” he asked as he crushed a few herbs in a mortar.
Cleopatra tried to shake the images from her mind. Gods, why was this always her thought process? Maybe Corym really had been right… she was well-versed in seduction and not romance.
She was busy watching him crush the herbs and nearly missed his question. She raised her hand and pointed a ringed finger at the jar she thought he was indicating. "This one?" she whispered. Though he had told her to rest her voice, it was a task that was easier said than done for Cleopatra.
Corym looked up from his work at her quiet voice. It was such a change compared to how Cleopatra usually spoke. So strong, so sure… Even when she was being deliberately annoying, this was just…
He cleared his throat and looked at the jar she was pointing and nodded. “Yes, that’s the one.” he confirmed, choosing not to say anything about her talking at the moment. Besides once the mixture was finished it wouldn't matter.
Cleopatra noted the way Corym looked at her after she spoke. It irritated her. Not his look, though that could be a whole entirely new discussion. It irritated her that she had been reduced to this – whispers and sympathetic looks.
She could kill Drâcoś for what he'd done to her. If Corym didn't accompany her down to the dungeons later, she just might. But it was likely that he would since they were his dungeons her prisoner was being kept in.
She selected the jar off of the shelf and brought it over to him. "How much longer?" she asked hoarsely as she set it down beside him. "And how soon does it take effect after consumption?"
Her fingers reached up to touch her neck, and she winced. It was already bruising visibly, and there wouldn't be enough time to cover the marks with makeup before they went back out to the dining hall. She'd have to just sit there and face the silent judgments and hushed, gossipy whispers about the slutty queen who had been called out.
“Thank you.” he nodded slightly as he accepted the jar and added a spoonful of its contents to the mixture. “Nearly finished. Once you drink it, your voice should be back to normal.” he assured. “It doesn't take long.”
Corym narrowed his eyes slightly in concentration as he measured everything and mixed the ingredients in a specific order. Evidently, this was not his first time making this particular remedy. “Here you are.” he said as he poured the mixture into a cup of steaming warm water. By the time he had handed the drink to her, most of it had already dissolved and turned the water the color of honey.
Cleopatra nodded eagerly at his words. "This must be some powerful shit," she mumbled, watching his process with curiosity. She took the drink quickly, eyeing the rapidly dissolving mixture before looking up at Corym and arching her eyebrows. "This isn't poisoned or something, is it?" she teased, unable to help herself as she playfully smirked at him.
