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Ceath only stared at Karl as the Halfling laid out the basis of his thought process. Crowds were the easiest to hide in, that he couldn’t disagree with. But to what end did Karl think a crowd would be drawn to the stables? Not many of them seemed to enjoy riding—not even slightly in comparison to those of his kingdom. But when Karl left Ceath could only afford to give him a slight nod for the ginger prince was still confused on what exactly was happening. He, however, trusted Karl enough to let the shorter man go off without anymore dely.

xx

Amelia hadn’t expected much gratitude from the young apprentice, but that did not mean the door slamming in her face helped her ego in the slightest. But the princess would not fight it this time, she would not again allow herself to be humiliated or mistreated by the elven people for another instance. At least, for the night in which she currently resided….she was more then sure that when the dawn broke she would find herself in a series of new jokes.

xx

Violete only blushed as Royale complimented her company. The woman could feel the swell of her chest as she looked at the dashing young man beside her. The ears inside the walls were forgotten momentarily as she allowed herself to take the compliment for what it was, a kindness that was unknown to those of royal blood. She took his arm without the acceptable amount of hesitation that was custom, she didn’t care in the slightest of how eager she must have seemed. “We shall.” The dark skinned woman said in a sweet, enticing voice.

xx

Kindle’s servants danced feverishly around his chambers, making sure that everything was in perfect condition, as they did every night. Kindle was more the cautious about his living arrangements, he wanted them perfect just in case one of his dear cousins decided to visit his home. The one-true king’s chambers were the biggest in the grand Chardinaee Castle of Impestieee. All, with the exception, of the Queen’s.

His chambers were simple enough; stark white trimmed with rich gold with but only a hint of black. A series of crystal windows lined the wall, over looking the lavish midnight gardens of the elven kingdom. The sucheeriean (moonblossoms) were perhaps one of the most impressive feats of kingdom—the flowers were ravishing to experience as the bloomed only when the moon conquered the sky. They ranged from bright, sprightly yellows to demanding indigo shades. Kindle often simply wasted his nights looking at them from a distance, contemplating the war that would ruin them.

A young, servant woman, dressed in the same rich gold that laced his window’s approached him gracefully. “My lord,” she said in a breathy tone. Her dark cheeks were flushed and her lower body was aching. When Kindle did not acknowledge her she continued to speak, as she was taught to do so. “One of Princess Aneira’s maidens are here to see you.”

He looked back at her with obvious disinterest. “Is.”

The one word answer made her heart shrink in her rather large bosom. Bemused, she couldn’t help but ask, “Is, sire?” Her heart pounded even harder still, as she was sure he would find her ill mannered and therefore ill fitted to be one of his.

The dragon knight gave her a rueful smile that could only be mistaken as beautiful. “One of Princess Aneira’s maidens, Lady Daela, mind you, is here to see me.” Kindle had known that the Halfling had been sent to invite him (or rather accept his invitation) the minute the words had left the ginger princess’s lips (or was it the stable boy’s lips, Kindle couldn’t be bothered to remember such minute details). Magnolia believed that her spies were keen, but they were children in comparison to his.

The woman simply gaped at her master in response. “Well, send her in.” He said with a hint of amusement. She only nodded and excused herself to escort the young Halfling back to him. Kindle smiled, it seemed that things were finally going to get interesting.

Kindle barely grazed Daela with his yellow eyes. She was always a treat to see, the little Halfling woman who held herself higher then most of the elves. The dark haired man wondered quietly how she had ever gotten in such an awful place that she would have to attend to a princess who was barely a princess at all. Of course he wouldn’t say this, though he was sure Daela wouldn’t necessarily disagree.

“A hunting trip?” He repeated the words back to her as if to force her to see how childish it sounded. Aneira, going hunting, if he didn’t have an appearance to keep up he would have laughed—he chuckled regardless. He took a few merciless steps toward the Halfling, mouth pressed into a firm, polite smile. “Now Daela, let’s be honest. Aneira doesn’t hunt and the idea that she would ask me to such a thing is ridiculous.” He didn’t bother to remark that Aneira, would of course, invite him to other events that took place in the privacy of one of their bedrooms—and he would of course, be obliged to accept.

Not giving the servant girl a chance to reply or attempt to be witty he continued, “Tell Aneira that I am more than pleased that she would like to accept my invitation. Tell her to meet me at noon by the far stables.”

After a moment fell between them and it was apparent that she was dismissed he called back out to her, “You might want to tell, Karl—was it? To b e a bit more careful.” The dragon knight turned back towards the windows and muttered, “You never know who might be listening.”

The stables were mostly quiet, the only sound the rustling and occasional whinny of the horses in side. Aneira’s dress brushed the ground as she approached the building. The dress was much simpler than the one she had worn the previous day. She was dreading the hunting trip, but refused to let it show. Pink lips twisted into a smile as she attempted to hide how she felt from the dark haired man who was waiting only a short distance away from her.

When she reached him, she greeted him with a simple “Good morning.” Part of her hoped that it would be a short hunt, however much she enjoyed spending time with the Dragon Knight, most of what she enjoyed took place inside. She did not want to seem uneager though, to do more with him, so she kept the smile and tried her best to make it reach her eyes.

Her eyes, which glanced over at the stables for a moment in hopes of catching a glimpse of one of the stablehands. She'd not been able to stop thinking about him since she saw him, the red-haired man with laughing copper eyes. She blushed and turned her gaze back to Kindle.

Karl, up in the hay loft again, looked down into the courtyard with what he hoped was discretion. People hardly ever remembered to look up. He frowned at the sight of the Dragon Knight and the Red Princess, alone and talking awkwardly. After a few seconds he pulled his head back into the barn and sighed, shaking his head. Nobles, always messing up his plans.
Daela had warned him, of course, that Kindle knew the scheme. She'd tried so hard to make him understand that if Kindle wanted, he could kill Karl for the harmless joke. "Not 'have you killed', mind you. He'd just whip out that sword, and snick." She drew a finger across her throat. "You're decapitated."

It didn't look like he was getting decapitated today. But better not to take the risk, and stay safely out of sight. He tossed down a few more forkfuls of hay and then followed them, landing in a fluffy pile and grabbing up as much as he could carry before staggering away, pointedly not looking anywhere near the courtyard while he worked.

xx

Julian hadn't been asleep… but he hadn't exactly been awake, either. Lost in the trance that he used to force the length of a spell into his mind, he wasn't ready for anyone (let alone her) to come in. The knock jolted him out of the trance, but at least by the time she had followed it in the worst of the energy had dissipated. He rose to his feet without thinking about it, as if she'd been an equal rather than a maid. He didn't recognize the impulse, but he didn't question it either (he did stifle the urge to bow, or kiss her hand, or do a million other equally ridiculous things).

"I'm, um," he couldn't think of a single thing to say. She stood frozen in the doorway, half-a-second from retreat, and all he could think about was what it would be like if she had been an elven noble. He would ask her to sit, and stay, and drink tea maybe. Those were the words that stuttered against his teeth, but all that came out was an unintelligible muttering.

He let out a breath, not quite a sigh of frustration at his own ineptitude, and cleared his throat. "It's fine." (He didn't know who he was reassuring.) "There's nothing." (Not unless he asked her not to call him lord. No word should fall so heavily, like a millstone into a pool. Why did it bother him so? It wasn't as if she'd given him the least sign of encouragement.)

And before he could stop the thoughts spilling around inside his head, he'd said too many of them out loud. "Please, if you'd like, stay and… and sit, for a while. I know the housekeepers keep you on the run. It isn't right, but–" Only now did he manage to choke off the spill, strangling the madness inside him. It didn't go away, but it did subside. He could not speak to the housekeepers, not when he lived in Magnolia's Court. If he'd been at home, it would be different.

Julian allowed himself a single moment to miss the distance seashore, and his tower, and nobles and a staff who understood him. Where he didn't have to bow and scrape every other second, and watch every word lest she be listening.

His distraction turned his thoughts away from Badb for only a moment, but it was enough that he nearly leapt into the air when she moved.

Julian nodded, half to himself, agreeing that the question needed an answer. But it took him another moment to say anything, eyes fixed on his hands and unable to even glance in her direction. "No," he said at last, his voice quiet. "Not ever." The addendum came out as barely more than a whisper, and though had planned to say more, his voice faltered and he let it fall back into silence.

Slowly, he let himself into the chair next to her, still not looking up. "People shouldn't be bought and sold." He managed. "It isn't something I engage in, and if I could, I would stop it from happening at all."

"She's cast a grand illusion, the Queen." He rubbed at the side of his face with one hand, laughing a little sourly. "All of her powerful nobles, and yet we scramble like pigeons after bread crumbs. How do you change something like that?" He'd meant the question to be rhetorical, but afterwards couldn't think of anything to add.

They sat in silence for as long as he could bear it, as long as he could keep still. He knew what'd he'd done was rash, beyond any form of stupidity. But he didn't qualify for the hidden listeners, and he didn't rationalize to her. The weight of his words clattered like stones in his chest, and he refused to take them back.

He knew what his next words were going to have to be; there was nothing else to be said at this point. None of the lovely things he wanted to say, anyway. So when at last the quiet became unbearable, when he couldn't stand to be in that room another second, he stood up, saying, "I'm sorry." It was the closest he could bring himself to taking back his reckless words.