Cleopatra's bangle had gone missing, one might not be too concerned by that alone. But it was no ordinary piece of jewellery, it was personal and Cleo had been meticulous to not leave clues to her very existence. Yet for the life of her, she could not place where it was. She had retraced her every step and it would seem it was doomed to be forever lost, no matter its significance to her. It would seem it was destined to be just another relic lost to the sands of time... most people would never take the time to look into such a piece, was all she could hope for, those curious symbols she knew etched into existence within the back of it would surely prompt intrigue. All it took was a little curiosity. How she could only hope it ended up buried like the past so often did. But she knew better... nothing ever seemed to stay... absent.
The Egyptian queen even went back to the scene of the crime, where not a single trace of what had transpired there was left behind. Not a spec of blood, footprints, nor a sign of her lost ancient bracelet. It was almost impressive and yet Dark Hunter's had certainly altered their methods over the years, it was impressive. But perhaps like some things, like that beast that was never meant to be tamed, that bracelet was doomed to vanish. Yet, she replayed that very night many times over and over within her head, as if she could recall almost every detail. It was not every day that she somehow ended up being saved. It was almost fortunate that recollections could grow hazy in time and he hadn't the faintest clue of who she was. She had to admit... that night had gone awry in comparison to what she had intended. Ah but that hunter... there was something about him that stood out piercing the memory that lingered within her mind... that she had not quite been able to shake free of. A feeling, as obscure of a thing as it were. She had never been wrong about it before but she had to be now. Perhaps even though time made her no less cunning... it could have warped that instinct. At least, just this once. It was not like she had told her ladies the full story of that tale despite their interrogation. For the most part, snakes could not... talk.
All that remained of that night was a memory and a vague headline of an anonymous donor aiding the people who had been affected. There was no fallout. She could have not asked for anything more. The city had once more fallen to that peaceful blanket. Nothing of intrigue seemed worthy of her attention besides her own dealings. That was until the plague, for that is what the fae queen had called it. It had struck with a vengeance and the city was met with nothing but panic and fear which did little for anyone. Her own private dealings had come to a halt, mostly, stuck within the high-walled protection of her mansion, set far back from the road with a wide array of security cameras and a gate.
The sky was a light grey, the sun it seemed, content to remain hidden amongst the dreary clouds with no hint of a stitch of rain to be seen as she lingered in her glassed in sun lounge. It was decent weather to still enjoy the outdoors and perhaps check on the newest stallion that was added to her stables. An Akhal-Teke that refused to settle, the rambunctious stallion almost always violent toward anyone who stepped foot into his stall. It was impossible to tell what had unsettled him so. The climate far from the harsh one he had come from and yet it was far from anything he had known. Yet... for all his fury he was one of the most striking horses she had ever laid eyes upon. His very eyes possessed an undying spirit despite how pale those eerie, piercing eyes remained. Cleopatra was reviewing his paper that came with him, the endless notes that had been kept from the previous owner all in one neatly contained booklet that arrived with him as if to garner some clue into his sheer discontent.
Iras was the first to sweep into that room to summon Cleo who was upon a chaise lounge. She was every bit a painting that attempted to capture her, draped almost artfully upon the white cushion. All those paintings depicted throughout history rarely got her right. She elevated her gaze before she languidly rose to her feet, fueled by immediate suspicion that rose from this newfound guest. Her footsteps are like a whisper upon the polished tile as Iras' alarmed voice chimed within her ear while she manoeuvred through their home toward the front door, as they idly passed the living room, the kitchen, the library and impressive staircase that led to the upstairs, all while Iras showed Cleo the live feed upon her phone that she only briefly looked at.
They never got visitors... that were not planned. She had seen to it. Which made this guest at her door all the more curious. That description in itself seemed odd. A man.. By himself, nice car, light hair... The recognition was almost immediate when her own cloven hued eyes landed upon the image of the hunter at her door. So much time had passed, which only made it odd as to why he was here.
How did he find her? The question lingered within her mind as she assured the ever nervous Iras. Cleopatra could handle one little dark hunter. She had faced far more frightening men in her time. She had remembered that unintentional challenge she uttered that very night... she hardly anticipated that he would take it upon himself to fulfil it. With an idle gesture of her hand, she gestured toward Iras to join Charmion in the reading room. The woman... protested silently, the look upon her face in clear indication upon that.
In only a manner of moments, after the scurrying of Iras' feet faded only to hide behind a thick pillar. Content to hide while... keeping a watchful eye upon Cleo at the same time. The exotic queen soon opened that heavy door to reveal the hunter that lingered upon her doorstep, why he chose to knock over ringing that bell seemed almost.... Old fashion in a way.
The breeze of aromatic scents sure to greet him as her words did. "Hunter." She uttered smoothly the word tasted upon her tongue as if she somehow anticipated his arrival, a slight upturn of the corner of her lip indicated a certain amusement all the same. So many variables remained blissfully obscured and yet there could only be so many.. Already, she was piecing together those likely scenarios.
She recognized him even without the dingy setting of that sewer, his strong features impossible to forget, his eyes and golden locks all but unmistakable. So too was that strange feeling... he gave her, one she could hardly place and yet... there is an old familiarity about him. Which was an impossible thing considering she had never known him. She would have remembered, she was sure. He looked different in the light of day. There was a hint of curiosity that flashed upon even though that perfected mask steeled upon her feminine features. The true question still remained, how he had found her and how much he knew. If he could uncover where she lived, did he uncover the very enigma of who she was? All questions that would have to wait. She refused to speak the very question just yet as she met his striking blue eyes, studying him a brief moment longer before she opened the door.
She waved a casual hand for him to come inside, an act that only unsettled the hidden Iras. "Come in so that we can speak.. Candidly... Privately." The last enunciated word spoken for Iras' ears only, well aware of her presence. After all this time, Cleo knew the woman far better than the other woman even knew herself.
There was no reason to be uncivilized and she had to admit she possessed a level of inquiry of the man who could summon glowing a sword and who fought like no one she had seen before. Like a god. Her gaze fluttered over the polished hunter then, even she had to admit, the man looked sharp in this state. Cleopatra, caught unawares by this impromptu meeting wore those casual, fashionable clothes that Iras had chosen for her. It was still revealing in a way, always showing her more feminine attributes and luscious. A golden belt cinched at her waist as her hand rested lightly upon it as though she posed for the cover of some fashion magazine.
"You clean up well.." She assessed the rather dapper clad hunter, inquisitively took note of the box he possessed in his hand. She narrowed her cunning eyes as she took a single step forward, still baffled how he had found her. After all, no one had managed in all this time to accomplish that very task. She had seen to it that her car remained concealed and she did not speak her name. How could one little hunter manage the impossible without a single clue to his name? After all.. She had her place spelled by a warlock to gently deter people from even crossing the threshold of her driveway unless it was entirely welcome. Hm. What that meant nowhere near the forefront of her thoughts.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" A calculating, lingering glance at the hunter, refusing to ask that burning question that so obviously lingered within the forefront of her mind, as if... to admit it out loud would only indicate that he had defied all odds, which in turn made her wrong. Perhaps it was pride that had had her so fiercely refusing its admittance. That rare curiosity curled about her like the snake-like bracelet that embellished her arm and yet while they did not cling to her.. It didn't mean they didn't linger. The woman was always in pristine condition with gold adorning her flesh even in her most casual of states. Today was no different, even if it was the day she had been proven wrong.