19.5

Alone in his chambers a few hours later, Dirk pondered the new situation. Zyrdicia had never come to him in the dungeon. Cai had, of course, dutifully reported to his lord on the after-dinner chitchat. As long as the seneschal kept the king apprised of such conversations, gleaning otherwise unavailable details from Zyrdicia's interactions with her servants, he remained safe.

Dirk went to her quarters, intending to settle the matter. He knocked. After a long moment, Anthony opened the door slowly, as though he were afraid a hinge might creak. The servant put a finger over his lips.

"Hi. Is Zyrdicia asleep?" Dirk demanded quietly.

"'Course not. She never sleeps here anymore," Anthony whispered. "She's concentrating and noise pisses her off." He gestured with his head to the sleeping chamber.

Dirk glanced through the partially opened door before entering. She stood in front of the fire, if one could call the pose standing. Her feet were planted together, her back bent backward in a tight arc such that her hands settled on the ground directly behind her heels. As though the feat of flexibility were not enough, her dagger had been placed between her heels, pointed up toward her back arched above it. If she fell backward toward the ground, she would land on it.

The endeavor looked recreational, whatever it was. She wore only a pair of thin wool leggings and a short halter. With her arms and midriff bared, it was no wonder she stayed so near the fire - the castle was chilly this time of year. "What is she doing?" Dirk wondered, vaguely amused.

Anthony looked around furtively then mouthed silently, "Stretching. Her back felt stiff."

Dirk watched her face as she concentrated. She looked as though she was in pain, and not of a pleasant sort. She seemed unaware of anything else in her environment.

He approached quietly. She did not stir from her mental preoccupation. Her eyes stayed shut, breathing unchanged. He watched her a moment, smiling to himself. It was too tempting. She made a lovely target.

Without gloves, his hands were very cold. He slipped one quickly on either side of her abdomen and squeezed hard. He expected her to writhe at the shocking cold sensation. He was prepared to jerk her up away from the blade poised at her back. She disappointed him, though. She inhaled sharply in surprise at the chilly touch, but otherwise remained perfectly still.

"You're rather vulnerable in such a position," he mused, his thumb caressing the outline of an abdominal muscle.

"Not really," she smiled, unperturbed.

She adjusted her weight slightly, placing it back on her hands rather than on her feet. Her long legs whipped up off the ground gracefully, the dagger still between her heels. With lightning quickness, her arms pushed against the ground, sending her body into the air. She wrenched out of his grasp, twisting in the air, bringing her feet -and the dagger-- within an inch of Dirk's face in a sharp slashing motion.

He did not flinch. He had no fear of her, and he was no longer surprised by her. Her body's near-weightlessness allowed her to do such things with ease. It could also make her easy to overpower. He watched her land into another handspring, intending to pop herself back into the air and then onto her feet. Before she left the ground again, he reached out and grabbed her quickly. One arm wrapped tightly around her knees, immobilizing the errant blade. He yanked her legs upward so that the rest of her body hung in the air upside down.

"Are you quite finished?" he smirked.

She dangled, perfectly relaxed for a moment. She smiled briefly and seemed to like the sensation of being upside down. She released the dagger from between her feet, letting it fall into her open hand near the floor. He body tensed suddenly. She pulled her torso up by her abdominal muscles, then threw her arms around his neck. She held the dagger against his jugular vein. "Now I am," she purred.

Her smile faded when she felt two sharp points press against her rib cage. Her eyes fell to the twin-bladed dagger he held aimed at her heart. He had only grabbed her legs with one arm, after all. She had not paid any attention at all to his free hand.

He winked, "Indeed you are."

She burst out laughing, then kissed his cheek affectionately.

His eyes moved to the blade still at his throat. He arched a brow expectantly. She whispered the word to send her dagger back to nether space, still laughing. Dirk returned his own dagger to its place at his side, then set her back on her feet, though her arms still lingered around his neck.

Her laughter stopped abruptly when she stood. Pain raced along her back from her left shoulder all the way down her spine. She buried her face into the crook of his neck and froze, waiting for the spasm to pass. She held her breath, biting back the urge to groan. It felt like Baal's claws were still in her. It seemed to last an eternity. She rode it out, counting each heartbeat pounding in her head.

When it passed, she released her breath slowly, then stretched first one shoulder up, then the other, feeling each muscle in her back move. She sighed, relieved that Dirk hadn't been able to see her face.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Dirk asked curiously, caressing her back lightly as she continued to cling to him.

"Of course not," she scoffed as though it were a silly question. She pulled away from him and turned to face the fire, her back toward him.

"You've tried to hide from me the fact that you still suffer ill effects from your misadventure with the demon."

"There are no ill effects. I won."

Dirk knew with certainty that she was lying. He had an exquisite intuition for pain, after all. He knew very well how she reacted to its various forms. He recognized the variances in body tension and the change in breathing that accompanied differing degrees and types of it. Whatever she had just experienced was more than anything he had ever caused. For a moment, her body had reacted as though it had been stabbed.

On several previous occasions, out of the corner of his eye, he had thought he had seen her cringe when she bent her torso - usually after playing roughly together. At the time, he had thought it was just a trick of the shadows in the room.

There were, of course, the other effects he had also noticed too. She avoided killing. Since her evening with the dragon following their engagement announcement, she had made no further attempt to engage in suicidal aerial acrobatics with the beast.

Thinking about it now, there was no question that she had not yet fully recovered from the ordeal. That knowledge meant an immediate assault on Camerand was out of the question - no matter how quickly he could resolve his domestic affairs. He moved behind her and ran his hand along her bare back with a whisper of touch. "I require your full destructive capacity for the South's final annihilation. Do whatever it takes to ensure I have it at my disposal," he ordered firmly.

Zyrdicia turned and met his gaze, undaunted. "For all I care, we could do it tonight."

Dirk's eyes bored into her, calculating. There was an unmistakable note of threat in her tone. It was tempting to call her on it, to dare her to do it just to watch it unravel in her hands, to force her to admit her own vulnerability. An unplanned attack before she had recovered, however, was hardly in his interests. He remembered all too well the broken state she had been in only a few days ago. He had no intention of putting his most valuable weapon needlessly at risk. "We attack Camerand only when I say we attack Camerand! Do you understand?"

"I'm fine. There is no reason to delay the attack because of me!"

"You will do as I say. You are not to leave the castle without my permission."

"Then let's go for a ride tonight," she suggested quickly, eager to change the subject. "The castle walls have begun to bore me."

"Ride?" he frowned. "You should be in bed resting."

Zyrdicia's eyes widened as though he had just invented new words. "You have to be joking."

The seriousness of his expression told her he was not.

"There is nothing the matter with me!" she protested. "As you just saw, I am more deadly than ever!"

"I also saw-"

Before he could finish his sentence, she interrupted, "--I have the magic of two Sephiroth at my disposal, and the soul of a god making me immortal. What part of 'fine' don't you understand?!"

"Zyrdicia, only a few days ago every bone in your body was broken."

"So?"

"Do as I say," he ordered softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I won't permit you to--"

"--No! Stop!" she scowled, anger rising. She batted his hand away roughtly. She snapped viscously, "I told you before that I don't want you to care. It's fucking absurd, coming from you!"

Dirk regarded her impassively, his face devoid of emotion. He pointedly said nothing. Concern for anyone else's welfare was utterly alien to him. The sentiment was fully wasted on her. Nevertheless, her caustic reply stung unexpectedly.

"I'm through with this conversation. I'm not going to rest - I'm going to leave!" she announced angrily.