.Sour .Skittles.
ᾎllirea 𝕰lvárion
∝╬══→❄" Sit back, matter of fact, teasing, toying, turning, chatting, charming hissing, playing the crowd."
Oh darling, you're a million ways to be cruel.
∝╬══→❄"Oh such grace, oh such beauty. So precious, suspicious, and charming, and vicious. "
Allirea gasped and stared with wide eyes as she and Septis were suddenly grasped. She herself were about to hiss and bat the Prince off her as if he were a fly, had she not been released a mere second later. With a wince she had to look away slightly as the beatings continued. Her fingers trailed to rest on her throat as she waited quietly. The sound of the door closing behind the disappearing mage caused Allirea to turn and stare at the prince while he commanded her to deal with the rebellion. Her? But she were his second. Surely her time would have been spent better here then wiping out a few rebels? For a few moments she watched the prince. He seemed frustrated, clearly. And there had been enough deaths for that day. She did not see a need for there to be any more than already were, but with his temper she was sure this day would see more. So Allirea did not refuse his command, rather she nodded and stepped forward.
“As you wish, my lord.” She spoke softly, but she did not bow and sweep out of the room. She continued further towards the prince until she stood less than an arms reach before him.
Her hand gently pulled the princes own from his hair. It seemed to be a habit he developed, and it were pulling out many strands of the inky wave. “I understand you are frustrated, but do not take it out on your hair. I suspect it cannot handle much more yanking. Soon you will be left with none if you continue.” The last of her words were spoken with a smile while her gaze shifted to his hair and she lightly combed her nails through the tangled portion he had abused. It were strange how her demeanor had changed. She had gone from smoldering, quick witted and smart mouthed temptress to a soft and comforting maiden. It were perhaps an act of self preservation, or perhaps something else entirely- perhaps it were that hidden gentleness in her heart. Though for it to show itself at such a time was strange. Why should she care if the prince suffered? He were her enemy, but at the moment she did not see it in this fashion. It were rather peculiar and she was sure she didn’t like it. None the less her inner turmoil would be saved for later when she were alone. For now she turned and took up a glass while she moved the prince to sit near a low burning fire. She herself sat on the rug near his feet. As she set the crystal glass down her nail grew long and sharp. In a single motion she dragged it along her palm where the flower had already wounded her. Blood sprang and dabbled along her hand as she closed her fist and squeezed, draining some into the glass. The red substance glimmered, shone and was not entirely red. Within the light of the fire it shifted into shades of burgundy, indigo, deep blues and violets. Her clean hand offered the glass to the Prince with a steady gaze.
“My lord? It will help you calm your nerves.” She stated.
Allirea paid no mind to the maid who kneeled beside her to bandage her wound. “I will do as you ask. It will take a day or two to round the men I wish to bring, I will start this at first dawn. Until then, I ask that you join the court at dinner tonight. They have not seen you lately, people are beginning to wonder. You are there prince. It is good to remind them of who you are. “ Her gaze did not falter from the prince’s face, but she only met his gaze for a moment before it shifted to glance about the room and she stood from her position.
Just like that her sweetness disappeared behind a mask of cool marble.
“If that is all you require of me my lord, I will leave you to your day’s business.” She curtsied slightly, hands folded before her. When she erected herself she waited for a moment to be dismissed
