It was impossible not to watch him. Observation had always been a strength, but there was no effort needed on Themis’ part. He was fascinating. Something changed when she probed into the past, his stiffness a warning that she was edging into dangerous territory. She listened with all her senses for the unspoken pieces of his story. Perhaps, if she was diligent, she could puzzle out his current predicament if she listened properly.
She made a face at his disappointing discovery; she had learned the same lesson in her practice, but she could only imagine how far unscrupulous money could take alchemy. She thought of his creation, his wax-given life by blood magic. Something turned in her stomach as she considered just how far such power over life could extend. “Oh, I take it you saw many of the pureblood royal houses begging for your services, even if they were too dull-witted to understand the work.” She poured enough disdain into her assessment of their “betters.” In her experience, blood purity had only made room for entitlement and idiocy. She had no doubt of her strength despite her muggleborn father. “And I do hope you made them pay for it dearly.” Her tone was not kind; her assessment vindictive. She wouldn’t deny it in front of Samuel; she was not ashamed of her distaste for the pointlessly privileged.
She gave a small hum of approval when Samuel’s hands tightened around her waist, pulling her close. It felt surreal to give someone any say in her physical autonomy, and the idea of being moved about like an object was deeply unsettling and disempowering. Not so, with the man currently holding her tight against him. She chose this. She had no wish to be anywhere else. She was also honest with herself – the laboratory around her was eerie in a way she couldn’t pin down, something inherently unwelcoming about the place. She was not meant to be here, but Samuel gave her presence legitimacy. He was master here, and she entered on his permission. If only the room didn’t seem half wild somehow.
She watched the warring in his face, questions she knew better than to ask on the tip of her tongue. “You do not have to show me anything you do not wish for me to see.” It was her gesture to him, the gift of his own secrets. He had been brave enough to bring her here, to a place with a heavy past. She would share the weight with him, but she wouldn’t wrestle the past from his hands. She let a hand cup his face, her touch gentle as she hoped to soothe and redirect him. “Show me what you want me to know. Show me something real.”
She made a face at his disappointing discovery; she had learned the same lesson in her practice, but she could only imagine how far unscrupulous money could take alchemy. She thought of his creation, his wax-given life by blood magic. Something turned in her stomach as she considered just how far such power over life could extend. “Oh, I take it you saw many of the pureblood royal houses begging for your services, even if they were too dull-witted to understand the work.” She poured enough disdain into her assessment of their “betters.” In her experience, blood purity had only made room for entitlement and idiocy. She had no doubt of her strength despite her muggleborn father. “And I do hope you made them pay for it dearly.” Her tone was not kind; her assessment vindictive. She wouldn’t deny it in front of Samuel; she was not ashamed of her distaste for the pointlessly privileged.
She gave a small hum of approval when Samuel’s hands tightened around her waist, pulling her close. It felt surreal to give someone any say in her physical autonomy, and the idea of being moved about like an object was deeply unsettling and disempowering. Not so, with the man currently holding her tight against him. She chose this. She had no wish to be anywhere else. She was also honest with herself – the laboratory around her was eerie in a way she couldn’t pin down, something inherently unwelcoming about the place. She was not meant to be here, but Samuel gave her presence legitimacy. He was master here, and she entered on his permission. If only the room didn’t seem half wild somehow.
She watched the warring in his face, questions she knew better than to ask on the tip of her tongue. “You do not have to show me anything you do not wish for me to see.” It was her gesture to him, the gift of his own secrets. He had been brave enough to bring her here, to a place with a heavy past. She would share the weight with him, but she wouldn’t wrestle the past from his hands. She let a hand cup his face, her touch gentle as she hoped to soothe and redirect him. “Show me what you want me to know. Show me something real.”
![[Image: Bka0H0x.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/Bka0H0x.jpeg)