Izzi sighed. This man was proving most frustrating. Jealous, vain, impatient, and as demanding of attention as any spoiled child. Yes, that’s exactly what he was! A spoiled child! She whispered to her friend, Bar, that she would speak with him tomorrow, and ran after Calin’ash. She, Izzi Vuolu, chasing after a man! This had better be worth it!
When she caught up to him, he was lounging on a low couch, his back to the door. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. Checking her appearance, smoothing her dress and hair, she moved to the end of the couch and sat down, just close enough so he could feel her presence without actually touching him.
“So, you’ve decided you can make time in your busy schedule for me?” He didn’t roll over as he spoke, his voice petulant.
“I am sorry, Lord Calin’ash. I had asked him not to disturb me, but he insisted. What could I do?” She kept her voice soft, her tone apologetic.
“Huh. And now? Will you be disturbed again? Is your attention to be drawn away again?”
She didn’t dare roll her eyes again, lest it be noticed. “We will not be disturbed. I am here, with you.” Izzi gently placed a hand on his lower leg, a gesture of supplication, but not too intimate. Can’t have him getting ahead of her plans.
Calin’ash rolled to his back, looking up at her with deep, languid eyes, dark with passion. He took her hand from his leg, and kissed her palm, never taking his eyes off hers. Izzi lowered her eyelids slightly, and licked her lips. His grip on her hand tightened slightly, as the effect she hoped for took hold. She caressed his cheek with her hand.
“Shall I tell you a story, my lord?” It had become almost a ritual to their meetings. She would tell him a story, usually a tale of grand adventure that she claimed was true, and he would listen, and occasionally try to make advances on her. Izzi’s ability to spin a tale was only outperformed by her ability to fend off his hands.
He nodded and grinned, then sat up and shifted on the couch so his head was in her lap. Izzi stroked his hair, and started telling of a trek through the foothills of Hillsbrad, to meet with an ancient Forsaken apothecary who had promised to give her a beautiful dress.
Two hours later, she was finishing up her stories, and Calin’ash was yawning. Her tales had grown less adventurous and longer as the night had worn on, a calculated move on her part. She stroked his head, and began humming a quiet tune, and within minutes, he was asleep. She waited until he was snoring, then gently moved his head, and slipped away.
She headed outside, to sleep under the stars, as usual. Izzi folded her dress carefully, and put it in her bag, yawning herself. She had never had to work so hard for a job! Lord Keland Wraithenblood had better appreciate her efforts! Whistling for Mongo, Izzi settled down for a well-earned sleep, snuggled up next to her faithful wolf.
