By morning, the marks were still around Dulce's neck, vibrant as ever, it kept the occupants of the carriage constantly distracted, even Ruoxi, the reason for them.
The journey began in earnest, it would take them a few days to arrive at the outskirts of Marlen, and from the capital, they could then begin the lengthy journey to the kingdom of Mistfall.
"How long are you going to keep those?" Kath'tan was the first to crack, purple fire crackling in his eyes.
Dulce had been browsing through a book, a distracted expression on his face as he looked up. "Keep what?" He asked harmlessly, the only one unaware of the souvenirs of intimacy he wore around his neck.
"On your neck," Kath'tan gritted out, irrationally irked by the sight.
Dulce reached up a slender hand, the tender sensation of the marks on his neck his realization. "Not long, they always heal far too quickly."
