“Eletta… you can’t mean..” The voice bored Elette as she sat at the ice table in front of her with her boots propped up on it. Thin six inch heels hacking at the ice. She was bored, it was clear in those dark eyes as she looked up the man.
He was Citron and he was captain of another group of assassins. After graduated, Elette had rose through the ranks and in a few short years, she had secured her spot as the leader of the elite group for the Winter Court. The ones that were sent to make sure no blood would be traced back to delicate fingers. He was below her. They all were below her.
He paused in his words under her gaze and snapped his mouth shut which caused those little fangs of his to rattle. He was getting old, and now he had the nerve to speak to her of such?
“I mean exactly as I say, you know we can not lie. Do you see me bleeding for such?” Her voice came out velvety smooth as one foot was taken from the table and then the other. Slowly, she rose herself to the height of five foot ten. Her cold gaze locked on him.
He was mumbled now, pathetic like. He was trying speak but words were caught in his throat. He knew there was something off about Elette. There had always been. As she moved towards him, he took up a defensive position. The slight shift of tensing, his hand coming to his side where his dagger was.
She paused in her steps, watching the other fae. He was starting to sweat. Those plump black lips of hers pulled up into a smile. About ten feet away, she stopped and her hands clasped in front of her.
“I take it that you object to what I am doing…?” She said simply enough. Delay. Just delay.
“Of course I do, you shouldn’t even be considering t…” and his words cut off. The sweat was pooling down the sides of his face then and dripping on the floor. With each drip, they got more and more red. She had been watching the process.
“Hm? What was that?” She asked, now taking a step forward within his striking range and cupping his chin in her hand. He was growing weaker and weaker. Blood began to seep from his nose and his eyes.
“Eletta, you can’t…” He choked out, blood splattering against her arm and slightly on the black leather of her vest she was wearing. Her hand stayed where it was. His attention turned towards the goblet they had shared at the start of their conversation. He understood. Poison. His eyes turned back to her and he stared.
She watched the life seep out of them until he went limp and fell from her light touch. She moved a little so he wouldn’t be on her shoes. She liked to keep them neat.
“I can… and I shall.” Her eyes shifted up towards Ninetroir. One who had trained and graduated with her. Ruthless, cunning. She respected his skills. She knew he would be silent. She had already taken his vocal chords during their training when he dared question her skills. A nod given to him.
“You are captain of this one now. Make sure you do me proud. Take care of the body.” She said before moving over towards him and leaning up to press a kiss on his dark cheek. With that, Elette moved from the room. A hand waved towards one of the other assassins nearby.