The Bodyguard

Introductions

Emilia had heard of love at first sight but she had never quite believed it until that moment she stepped inside of the palace of the disgustingly wealthy. She despised the idea of flashing wealth unnecessarily, but one glance at the elegant dancers, the gourmet food, the live music, and outstanding decor of flowers and gold laid tastefully across banisters and hung from walls made her jealous of the beauty money could create.

Her eyes wander, catching on the flashes of colour or turns of gowns, deaf to the stammering of classical orchestra and beats of conversation hovering in the background. The colours were so loud in themselves that she was surprised her eyes weren't watering with their ferocity, let alone the overwhelming air of stuffy fragrances that made her feel as if she had a cold that sprung up in an instant. 

And then she realized what she was really watching, she was seeing the mating dances of those birds of paradise, so desperate to not be devoured by the lion in his den that they must first blind and swoon him into submission of their desperately terrible proposals. But then the question was where was that terrible predator? The king of this gold and marble jungle that could pounce on them in an instant. 

Her heart racing at unimagineable speeds, she grips tightly with one hand to the golden fabric beneath her palm, holding it out of the way of her trembling steps. Her other hand, no matter how still she attempts to hold it refuses to keep from vibrating a steady rhythm of anxious thoughts and prayers against her side. And then without warning comes the arm of a suit jacket beneath her palm, giving it an anchor.

In slight shock Emilia glances upward, catching sight of those black locks and a hint of steel eyes that don't even glance her way. But the gesture of a steady arm was something unexpectedly wonderful that made her heart beat in a different rhythm for that singular moment in which she met those eyes. It was as if the world had stopped between her heart beats and decided that for just a moment everything was ok, no matter how much danger she was in.

She thought to herself as she walked through the gathering flocks, how it was a fairytale in every way. Or at least, almost everyway. She supposed she didn't quite have that prince charming that would seep her off her feet to a happy ending, but she did have a Knyte by her side and the Cinderella gown, every eye on the mysterious woman at the ball as she sweeps into the hall on the arm of an insignificant man. Though to Emilia, the man was anything but insignificant. He was her Knyte, her protector, her wall, and at the moment her only anchor to a world not filled with the hidden villains in nice clothes that surrounded her now, every dessert a poison apple and her mother the unsuspecting princess. At the very least she were not naïve enough to believe friends of the feather wrapped crows around her, after all a flock was called a Murder and it was difficult for her to believe that the specific flock had committed multiple.

She couldn't help but notice as they continue to step lightly between the unblinking, beady eyed scavengers that they are following one particular pair that threaded through the crowds, merely following the long strided lead of Mr. Knyte just slow and steady enough for her not to trip over the too high heels as she leans on his arm for support with eyes fixated straight ahead on some unmoving point that she couldn't even identify as everything was a mere blur.

"May I offer you a drink?" The question, seeming to come from thin air has Emilia jumping so high in the air that she is surprised she doesn't make an actual sound with the impact of her heels back onto the marble as a gentle hand takes hold of her other elbow in an instant to steady her, the steady tingles telling her precisely who it is.

"No." She snaps quickly, clearing her throat to correct herself quickly, "Thank you I mean, but no thank you." She says quickly, trying to offer a trembling smile but knowing it is only a grimace at best. The man quickly bowing out of the way and not even bothering to offer Mr. Knyte one, as if he knows that he is not a proper guest, that he is only there because of her. Then again, for all she knew, the server could be posing, offering her a poison in attempts to rid Mr. Delmont of even the smallest asset.