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He kept perfect pace with Jillian's step, his hand placed in the other's. Faryn was rather surprised. He had casually heard Jillian's name before tied to dancing, yet he couldn't deny the other's experience was far greater than the casual mention he got at the dinner table. The two of them seemed to whirl about the dance floor, amazingly never bumping into a single other pair. Perhaps it was just luck.

The fast-paced waltz morphed into a slower dance and seeing as Jillian had only referred to one dance when he asked for the first one, Faryn figured he had fulfilled his duty. His feet slowed to fit the tune, though he didn't intend to remain on the dance floor following his question. "Are we through, then?" he inquired.

Faryn was shocked by the minty-haired male's sudden hasty and abrupt movements. He bowed his head slightly in response, as was the routine tradition in proper etiquette. He watched Jillian's darting eyes in interest, almost concern. And then the other was gone, leaving him entirely vulnerable and alone on the dance floor. It wasn't long before the stunned, petite prince was approached by another male wanting a dance. He scoffed and told him 'No.' When the other opposed him, Faryn merely wrenched his small hand from his grasp and followed after Jillian. When he found him, he approached him from behind, reached up, and laid a pale hand on the back of his shoulder blade. "What's wrong? You seem tense..." he asked in a smooth voice, trying to mask all concern, but he was unsuccessful. Though his eyes were black and cold as ever, his voice seemed a bit... more... could it be, feeling?

It was almost hard for the Ice Prince to look up into those eyes staring right back down at him. It wasn't as if he were looking into the challenge that previously faced him, but now it was an open invitation. An invitation to a decision that both attracted and repelled him all at once. To make it worse, Dax felt.. was it pressure? to make a choice. Perhaps it was just the feeling of talking with another prince, one of same rank as himself. Or maybe it was he knew he could really change his life if he wetn with Sayael. There was a long, quiet pause where he was doing all he could to muster up the will to keep his eyes locked onto the other's. ".. Will you give me time to decide?" he asked finally. "An offer like this will take more than mere moments to make my final decision."

Faryn rather miffed by Jillian's dismissive response. He hardly ever went out of his way to see if there was anything awry in someone else's life, and when he did-- Jillian, of all people, dismissed him? What, did he think that such a powerfu, though small prince couldn't handle the truth? Something was obviously wrong with his escort, rendering him incapable of fully fulfilling his duty to Faryn. Why else would he have actually left the prince alone on the dancefloor when he very well knew that Faryn would probably be approached by some inferior imbecile?! The prince frowned and opened his mouth to let the other have it, when he was suddenly interrupted.
Silver hair whipped about his face as an irked and very bold little prince sharply turned around to see who had so eagerly interrupted his attempt at a verbal lashing. But instead of redirecting that lashing, Faryn for once held his tongue. He blinked up at the man who looked vaguely familiar. Had he met this man before? His voice was so... uncultured. Surely the King wouldn't've invited him into their Court. He easily picked up on just who this man was through the context of his exclusive conversation with Jillian. And the realization hit him full-force. In all the years he had known Jillian, there was hardly any mention of family. His own father doted upon the boy as if he were his third son... much to Faryn's annoyance. So much annoyance that Faryn, had sent people looking for Jillian's true family. When he heard back the news... it was so little that he angrily turned his pages to stone. They only lived because Muertian turned them back in time. He had only seen a single photo; it was still hidden in his private study. The pages had said it was a photo of Jillian's parents. Skeptical, Faryn hadn't believed their tale until now... with this man in front of him. He had so many questions.
The prince didn't see how the man's words affected his companion; he was still facing away from Jillian when he felt the presence move away. It was then that he turned his back to the interrupter.
He marched off after Jillian, first entering the antechamber and immediately turning right back round to face the other. The door was closed and that verbal lashing was coming out. "Come? Come?! What am I, your pet?! You desert me on the dancefloor! You don't answer me when I ask you a question! You leave me alone with your..." Faryn interrupted his rant for a moment to add an incredulous chuckle, "your father!-- and now, now you think you're going to order me to come and go and kiss your stupid hand at your every whim! Who in the bloody kingdom do you think you are, Jillian?! Am I a prince to you or am I not?" He ended his rant with a frustrated stomp of his foot. Though not in his angriest of states, he was throwing what one might call a very mild tantrum. Faryn might have an inflated sense of self, but it was quite clear in his mind that he obviously deserved better than this.

Faryn was completely frozen. No one ever dared to talk to him in such a manner. His father, maybe, but certainly never someone below his status and even those who shared it challenged him on extreme rare occasion, if ever. His black eyes betrayed no emotion as he stood there silently allowing the other his few precious moments of utter disrespect. He endured the glaring without a tremble, he endured the fury without a tear. Once a few moments of quiet had passed, he inquired in a completely detached, uncaring... almost deadened voice, "Are you finished?"

The sweet, muffled music of a slow waltz drifted through the door, but it fell only on Faryn's deaf ears. He was trying very hard to control his temper, if only for the sake of his Kingdom's appearance in public. No smile adorned his lips, as usual. He merely stared at the tapestry on the wall while the other tried to pathetically cover up for such an unforgivable outburst he had just acted upon. Faryn wasn't merciful to anyone, but perhaps... well, who wasn't important. When his voice passed through his lips, it beared no life at first.
"I am not your friend. I am not your boyfriend. I am not your...lover. Nor am I your brother," he began matter-of-factly. His voice then became a bit more engaged and passionate. He turned to face the seated boy before him. "Jillian, I'm your prince... well, one of them. But as your prince, I'm not required by anyone to try and understand your pathetic past, whatever it may be..." He walked closer and closer to Jillian until he was right in front of him. "How dare you. How DARE you talk to me like that! Your insolence will be your downfall! It's not polite to speak of it especially to you-- but let's get one little thing straight--" A hand slipped under Jillian's chin to force him to look up into Faryn's black depths. "I don't care what Father or Muertian say about what's going to happen to me. I don't care how much money they offer you... which, I can only assume is quite a sum, but I don't need anyone." Faryn leaned down to whisper the spiteful words into Jillian's ear, "I'd rather die. Do you understand me, Jillian? Die."

Faryn was unimpressed with Jillian's supposed understanding. Where there was such passion in the other only moments before, there was now none to be found. And though he watched his date leave him and turn around with such an odd smile, those three crucial words that might make the difference, were routinely dismissed. They sounded so foreign; he hadn't heard them since his mother passed away. And even so, all of his tutors had told him that people would say anything to get power. They loved power.

Therefore, the seventeen-year-old's eyes and mind tried to remain unchanged as the other passed through the entry and back into the musical ballroom. A magic force closed the door quite quickly behind Jillian and instead of petrifying a soul, the door was petrified in a locked position. Faryn hated that phrase. 'I love you.' He couldn't've meant it. The two-tone-haired teen couldn't have possibly felt love for him. It was impossible. Jillian was being far too erratic to be taken seriously. Faryn glanced at his reflection in a nearby mirror. Beauty was wasted on him. He didn't believe there was a single shred of beauty within him; it only must lie in his looks. Suddenly, Faryn felt violent. He wanted to smash something or hurt someone; forget for once he was a prince with stupid duties to his kingdom and actually punch, tear, etc. But he knew he couldn't. Extracting a small, glass bottle from his pocket he unscrewed the lid and drank the purple, bubbly contents. A knock-out drug. The petrified door ensured no one-- unless they were more or equally as powerful as Faryn would be able to get through that entrance for at least another two hours. The balcony and windows on the other side might give access from a different part of the castle. But, either way... with a thud, Faryn's frame had gone rigid, dropped to the floor, and he was successfully passed out, breathing softly.