SEBASTIAN - Voice of Persuasion

WaterRose, Mane Country

SEBASTIAN

“Elsabet.” Sebastian called.

“No.” She shouted back from upstairs.

“Come down here.”

“No!”

Damn her.

She’d been dodging him ever since that confrontation in the hall. In which he’d refused to let her prod him into forcing her.

There’s no telling me no, when I really want something.

You’ll learn.

“Little Harpie.” He turned his voice coaxing. Echoing through the corridors with a husky lilt. Mardichi called it the Voice of Persuasion. Bast turned it up. “Come to me…”

He heard vases hitting the wall and a stomping footstep above him as he waited in the foyer.

She materialized atop the stairs. The firelight from the torches catching her hair in a halo of orange. Her red dress was sleeveless, trimmed in long wisping red feathers which clung to her pale skin. Revealing a tasteful expanse. Her eyes were vivid blue in her rage. Cheeks flushed to nearly the same shade as her dress in her ire.

“Come to me.” He crooked a finger.

“You, Unholy bastard, rogue, jackass, womanizing…Wretch!” She swore every step she took.

“Good Woman. Come down here.”

Her trembling hand reached for the railing of its own volition. With the castle as quiet as it was, his ability to seduce with merely his voice was amplified. Back ramrod straight she fought his magic. But he was pleased to see that at least this, she was susceptible to.

She still had a bit of pottery in her hand and threw it down at him. Her other palm was glued to the railing as she glided down the stairs toward him.

“I’ve gifts for you. You want to join me.” It wasn’t a question. He turned and held his forearm to her, which she automatically draped a hand over, despite all her efforts to will herself to stop obeying his commands.

“I most certainly do not.”

“But you will.”

“I will.” She breathed huskily before kicking him in the shin.

Ouch!

“Stop doing that!” She commanded. Blinking quickly now that he’d dropped his magic to reach and cup his aching shin.

“If you go upstairs, I’ll use it all night.”

“Fine.” She said tight lipped. One eyelid actually twitched; she had her eyes narrowed so tightly. Her hands worked in small fists. “What. Is it. You. Want.” She enunciated. Teeth gritted.

“I want you to try something.” He took her hand, tentatively to see if she’d pull away. He coaxed his fingers under hers and unfolded one fist to lead her into the Dining Hall where he’d laid out a spread of fruits and sweets.

“What is this?”

“I want to know what you like.”

Her eyes scanned the table and he saw her little tongue dart out to lick her lips.

Good. She saw something she likes. His chest swelled.

“You’ve enjoyed nothing I’ve brought you thus far." He remarked.

Though she'd patiently tried all the delicacies he’d brought her, she’d shown nothing more than passing interest. “So, I’ve found some treats that are even more scarce to come by.”

From the Isle of Wight.

“How?”

“My ship, the FireStar, drew port today.”

“You have a ship?” She gasped before her eyes narrowed and tone hardened. “Of course, you have a ship.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowned.

“You have everything.”

Not you. Not yet...

“I don’t have you-yet.” He purred.

“Which is why you want me.”

Only one reason.

“One of many, many reasons.” His eyes hungrily roved over her in the red silk. The shade selected by his careful eye to compliment her light complexion. “What’s wrong with a man desiring a woman?”

“You hold this woman prisoner.” She said flatly.

Yet, I've never treated you as one. Or you'd have been mine the first sevennight.

Chained to my bedpost. That thought had his body tightening. He cleared his throat.

Voice cracking slightly as he reminded. “We did discuss terms for your freedom.”

Li

“Terms I’ll never meet…”

Tell yourself what you must.

Keep your woman’s anger close. His chin hitched. You’ll need it.