Camille

It had been a long month for Camille. First her car broke down leaving her the options of walking or catching the bus to work; the latter being the one she despised the most. Then after coming home from a long day at work, she discovered her boyfriend had been cheating on her with his supposed ex. Finding the two of them in her bed had been an unexpected surprise. She had ranted and raved, demanding to know why he would do such a thing. Unsurprisingly, he didn't have an excuse. After throwing out his things and telling him to leave, Camille found herself alone and working double shifts to make ends meet. It wasn't so bad; working long hours helped to keep her mind off things.
Now here she was walking home after another long day. It had grown quite dark and far later than Camille would have liked. Not that she was afraid to walk. It was good excerise since she couldn't get to the gym. Maybe it would've been better if she didn't have to carry her groceries home too. It was bad enough the security door to her apartment got stuck; now she had to struggle with the damn door and two bags full of food. Once she got the door opened, Camille walked up the stairs to her apartment, keys in her mouth, with her hands holding a death grip on two bags while her aching feet cried out in agony. Camille kicked her door closed and carried her burden into the small kitchenette. Relief flooded through her as she set the bags on the counter. Without turning on a light she walked into her bedroom.Who needed a light in such a small space anyway?
She kicked off her shoes in her bedroom and flicked on the light. The small room was once of her favorite places. It had a large window that showed the brillant night sky and wasn't facing the street. Most of the room was taken up by the king sized sliegh bed. After everything that happened with her ex she still loved the bed and had only thrown away the bed clothes. There was a small mahogany dresser on the far side of the room and next to that was her ultimate favorite piece of furniture: the vanity.
The vanity was in complete contrast with the rest of the room.The dark wood of the bed, the dark dresser, even the closet door and walls made her vanity stick out. Her furniture still looked new, but the vanity was well used. Another thing she loved about was that it was pearl. Not the color, it was made completely of pearl. It seemed to shimmer even in the dark, and it had a large, frameless oval mirror. It had been one of the few things she managed to take from home. When she allowed herself to think of home sometimes she could see her mother sitting there, brushing her hair. Camille sat at the vanity and picked up a brush. She removed the tight ponytail, letting her silken black hair fall to her waist. She kept her hair long in remebrance of her mother. Back home in Nagosha, everyone told her she looked like her mother with her long hair and chocolate skin. She stared at herself in the mirror, wishing her mother was here. Her dark brown eyes and full lips were more of her father as well as the oval shape of her face. Also like her mother she was a little too top heavy, making her choose clothes that covered everything. She wasn't very tall barely reaching 5'6, still her father used to tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. But then all fathers probably told thier daughters that, Camille thought as she brushed her hair until it was smooth. Camille sighed and shook her head. Home was not something she could go back to.
She turned off the light, walking back toward the kitchen. The smell of General Tso's chicken called to her empty stomach. The window in th livingroom let in a gentle breeze as Camille passed. Once in the kitchen she put away the gorceries, leaving out the boxes of Chinese food. Nothing in the world satisfied her more than pork fried rice and a good helping of the spicy chicken. She tossed the chopsticks in the trash, she had never gotten the hang of those things, and opted for a fork instead. As she sat at the counter she looked around the room. The rest of the apartment was simply furnished, only the basics. A TV sat on a small entertainment center packed full of movies and there was a light brown couch and loveseat. The only pictures on the walls were of landscapes, nothing fantastic, just things she picked up in simple stores. As she mmm-ed every other bite of the chicken, her eyes came to rest on the open window.
Was that window open before she had went into her room? Camille couldn't remember, and when she thought that, she felt it. A brush of warm air on the back of her neck. Camille sat still, her fork half heartedly stirred the chicken. It had been years since she had felt someone's power. She barely used her own...magic unless there was a great need for it. Her eyes stayed on the box of chicken, seeming to be transfixed by it, but she was using her powers to "feel" out the source of the magic she just felt. The fact that she could feel it at all bothered her. She had thought she had hidden so well. She threw her power out into the room sort of like the way a person would throw a ball, only this ball was made of energy and filled out the entire room. In her mind's eye she could see ball, electric blue and barely transparent, filling every single space of the apartment. It covered everything in its brightness, except a single dark space near the curtains.
Gotcha. She thought and quickly retacted the energy until it was nothing. She didn't want her visitor to know what she was doing. Whoever they were didn't want her to know they were there and that fact sent little tingles of worry up and down her spine.
Unless she had the upperhand. "You can come out now," She said scooping up some chicken with a bit of rice. "I know you're there." She ate slowly, not looking toward the window. Whoever it was, they were good at cloaking and would reveal themselves in time. Why anyone would want to come here, Camille couldn't guess. There was a pop, not a sound, but Camille could feel it as if there was one, and suddenly she felt like she could breathe easier. She was half way done with her food when she felt the warmth again and knew they dropped their magic.
"You were always good at sensing others, Princess." A deep voice said.
It took everything Camille had not to drop the fork and turn around. You never showed this man fear, and he was definately the last person she would have thought to see in her home. That voice had always been the stuff of nightmares, always frightened her as a child. When she had left the planet of Nagosha, he was one of the people she had hoped never to see again.

Eamon was one of the most feared people back home. His powers were deadly, Camille had seen him kill with just a sinlge touch of his hand. The man he touched didn't thrash or make a sound. He just fell down to the floor, dead. It was one of the reasons Camille's father made Eamon the legal executioner. Sometimes he was judge and jury.
Camille turned to look at him. To his credit, Eamon didn't look deadly, but that was part of his charm. He was a golden Adonis personified. It seemed that if he moved, he'd glimmer in the light. Wavy hair the color of molten gold, blue eyes to match any perfect sky. He was half way to seven feet tall with a muscular body.
"Don't call me 'Princess'." Camille said firmly, turning to face herr food.
"But that is what you are, Princess." Eamon said.
Camille gave a scornful laugh. "If I were, wouldn't I be in a palace instead of here?"
Eamon came to stand beside her. He ran a finger across the counter top as if inspecting for dust. "I will admit this is not as grand as the palace." he looked around. "It is...too small."
"Yeah, but it's clean." Finished with her food, Camille threw away her trash and turned to face the man. She wasn't a child anymore, she didn't have to be afraid. She was sure her face didn't show it, but her mind was racing. What was the deadliest man Camille had ever known doing in her apartment? After all these years, after all the hell she went through, the careful planning, what did he want from her?
She knew he wasn't here to kill her because she would've been dead by now. Eamon was usually a man of few words, and even less if his intent was to kill.
So Camille felt safe in asking, "What do you want, Eamon?"
A small smile crossed the man's face. Camille would have missed it if she hadn't been staring at him. Even though she was sure he wouldn't hurt her, she didn't want to let her guard and be wrong.
"Always to point, right, Princess?"
"You're not one for small talk, Eamon." She crossed her arms. "Talk."
Eamon gave a long, sweeping bow. In the small space of her apartment, that made the gesture look even more elegant. "As you command."
Camille rolled her eyes. Another thing she didn't miss about being at court was the bowing and other niceties.
"Your father has taken ill, Princess. We fear he doesn't have long and he asked that I come a fetch you."
Camille felt her breath leave her body and everything went still. Her father couldn't be dying. Her hands began to shake as she processed the information. Now she knew why Eamon had come. If it had been anyone else telling her, Camille probably wouldn't have believed them.
Eamon never lied.

"It had taken a while to find you," Eamon continued. "This was the last galaxy I was to search before I report to the queen."
Camille scoffed at the word 'queen.' She had no queen. After her mother died it wasn't long before her father remarried. Less than a month actually. Not only that, but the woman wasn't even from her home, or that far from Camille's age.
Queen Narciss was absolutely nothing like her predecessor; as far as Camille was concerned she never would be. Narciss was vain, and seemed simple. Camille knew the other woman had a devious mind, but as long as she got her way no one was hurt. That's why Camille had feld. Her stepmother always had it out for her. When the new queen realized she'd have to share her husband's affections with his daughter she became jealous and more than once had tried to kill her. Oh, not by her own hands, but others who were loyal to Narciss wouldn't mind to do the deed. Camille soon found her father wasn't much help. He loved his new wife, and his daughter only reminded him of the woman he lost. He wouldn't believe the worst of the young queen and Camille left. It took a lot of planning. She didn't want to be found, Narciss would definately try again to kill her.
Camille looked at Eamon. She didn't want to go back, but if her father needed her, she had to go to him. She sighed, shaking her head. "Take me." She said.

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