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 Posted: Mon Dec 24, 2012 11:04 am
 Name: Ashlynn Fairwind - Position: Lady in Waiting/Ranger to the Heir of Honesty - Thinking: This voice isn't mine - Location: Garden
In the Presence of: Petruccio and Mishka Currently Wearing:This. Ashlynn gave a perplexed look, one similar to that of a young child would give to an outlandish statement. He thought that she was a noble? She let out a slight giggle. "No no no, I'm not that of a noble, I simply am just the maid in waiting to the next-in-line of Honesty. But we were separated on our forceful coming to this realm." The tempo of Ashlynn's voice was one that gave off the constant happy vibe, for lack of better tone. It's pitch changed only in the slightest. She continued to listen to him as he spoke.
Shaking her head at his statement of being able to request the assistance of his nobles. "No no, I couldn't do that of you. I don't need active looking, but if you find them be sure to let them know their maid-in-waiting is of good health." Ashlynn stated. She wasn't too fond of the nobles here. It wasn't that she was distrusting. But, the way impression that Naedira and Ryan gave her wasn't a good one. She wasn't certain of how all the nobles would be, so she planned on not interacting with any unless in the presence of her own noble, or she was forced into the situation.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Housecarl Petruccio." She said smiling slightly. She stopped playing with the heart shaped locket as her anxiousness was answered, although not in favor of what she wished.
A voice played out in her mind, a newcomer arrived from the trees and spoke to Ashlynn telepathically. "This is fine with, it was just startling for a second, mainl- well, nevermind." Ahslynn cut herself off before explaining that the only voices she heard in her head that did not belong to her were the voices of the wild. The way the wind would blow through the trees as they spoke to her.
"I am Ashlynn Fairwind of Honesty, I'm pleased to meet you." She said, giving a slight curtsey and a bow of her head. Her voice seemingly calmer than it just was. The hint of joy still hidden in the underlays of her voice. She had to be sure to be more 'well mannered' to not offend any strangers. Something she found complete and utter bull sh*t.  "I will never tell a lie, that I can swear by, but if what I say isn't what you seek, then into my words you'll have to peek." - Ashlynn Fairwind (OOC: )
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Posted: Tue Dec 25, 2012 5:34 pm
▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ Princess of Humility || In the forest || Wearing This Dress || Weapon ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ The longer she stood there with Prince Stefan, the more self-conscious Madelyne became. Normally she would not really care how she looked, but in front of someone, especially royalty, at a time like this... It was silly of her to suddenly become so self-aware. Yet... What would her sister think? Naedira certainly wouldn't approve of her lack of decorum... Would she? No, of course not. It was not appropriate for a princess to look so frazzeled and dirty, but here she was, muddy with wind-blown hair. What did Stefan think of her? Surely with the look he was giving her he was confused by her appearance. She didn't blame him. What was she thinking, running around the woods in such a manner? She ought to be ashamed of herself... Yet Madelyne couldn't help but think the opposite. Why shouldn't she be allowed to be herself every once in a while? Considering the current circumstances, she needed her own space to be free and wild like she was as a young girl, back when she was happy but grieving the lack of communication between herself and her family. Though she had much structure in her life back then, she had free periods in between her studies where she could do whatever she wanted. It was then that she did as she was doing now: shamelessly walk around barefoot in the woods. In front of Stefan, however, her face became flushed. This was not how a princess acted. She should accept Stefan's offer of the cover from the rain and clean her dirty feet. With that in mind, Madelyne looked up at Stefan as he insisted his previous offer.
She sighed quietly, surrendering. "Thank you, my lord," the princess said, stepping toward him. "I suppose you are right. I don't know what I was thinking..." She took the spot he gave up, grateful but guilty that he felt the need to accommodate her. Was it only out of politeness? Surely he wanted to continue to rest undisturbed? Either way, his kind action was very appreciated, though she would have prefered to leave him his space.
Madelyne stayed though and as she did, Stefan told her how he felt about the new room situation. "I agree... It's definitely an interesting adjustment, considering how it was before," she said. The next thing he said surprised her. "You had just arrived that day?" She asked, eyes wide. "That must have been a very traumatic welcome for you. I'm sorry that you came on such a day..." The princess frowned. I suppose I should be thankful that I was here to see the way everything was before, she thought. Poor Stefan... It's no wonder he is having a difficult time.
Though the statement may have seemed childish, Madelyne could agree. "Yes, I miss some of my belongings as well, especially my bow." As soon as the word escaped her, the princess froze. She glanced up at Stefan, wondering what he thought of a woman with a weapon. She added quickly, "A girl's got to know how to protect herself... I long to have it with me during the night. You never know what kind of evil may lurk here... It is frightening not knowing who can be trusted."
And then the prince asked about a topic she hoped would be avoided. Her shoes. She should have figured he'd mention something or another, but she was hoping since he was being so polite that he would try to ignore it... but who could really ignore the muddy, disheveled look she had?
Madelyne couldn't help but laugh a little. "Honestly?" She asked. "No, I do not. They tend to pinch my toes. It can be very uncomfortable." She observed him for any reaction, then continued, "Can you keep a secret?" The princess paused for dramatic effect. "I actually prefer being barefoot. It's much more freeing than shoes, and the texture of ground is very comforting... Would you consider that odd? I know it is not very appropriate, since I am a princess but... we all need something that makes us feel good, do we not?" After a moment, Madelyne's brows furrowed. "Forgive me, I did not mean to ramble on like that..."
{o.c.c. Forgive me for my late reply~ }
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Posted: Thu Dec 27, 2012 2:12 am
Amarenth Soren Hyuga Kingdom: Envy
Rank: Knight
Location: Kitchen with Claus Revelle and Dante Gavini Cross through the night
I looked down and lost my way
my light (()) Soren kept herself leaned up against the counter as she listened to Dante. As she listened to him, she found herself thinking he was a type that sought knowledge, or was at least a person that believed the statement that knowledge was power. However, instead of seeming like someone that believed any knowledge would lead to success, Dante seemed to actually be thinking ahead. She nodded and gave a faint smile at that. “You are likely thinking further ahead than the rest of us. I haven’t heard of anyone else that is reading in preparation for Veritas’s possible schemes.” She ate a bit of her soup and swallowed it before continuing to speak. “Got any warnings to give the rest of us?” If there was anything she could use to Envy’s advantage, she wasn’t about to lose the chance.
After that, Soren had fallen silent as the jester and Dante had exchanged some words amongst each other. It wasn’t until later that she decided to interject during the introductions, giving her name and kingdom. Just like with Dante, the jester commented on the fact she was from Envy. She covered her mouth and bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from chuckling. “Is that so?” She moved her hand away from her mouth before she looked in the direction of the jester. “Well, I guess this will be your first time doing so then, and likely not your last since there is more than one of us around here.” The knight didn’t say who specifically. That would ruin the fun if she spoiled for him that someone like Liam was about the castle.
Besides, Soren might find herself being able to enjoy Liam being pissed off by said jester. While that would not end well for said jester, that still would be an amusing sight. She kept that to herself though as she jokingly inquired the jester about his name. She tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows slightly, wondering what jokes he was referring to when he was speaking to Dante. However, the jester seemed to be caught up in his act, causing her to remain silent on the matter. Though, her eyes soon widened when the jester took off his mask. Either the jester was a ghost, or something was very wrong here. No matter the reason, Soren felt her muscles tense up, not exactly prone to trusting possible spirits. But, the knight wiped the shock from her face as the jester introduced himself.
Admittedly, Soren wasn’t sure if she should commend him for being such a good performer, or find herself annoyed by his over the top antics. Her emotions seemed to settle for a middle road, causing her to not frown, but not smile either. “I didn’t realize Veritas had a royal court jester. Guess your ‘fame’ doesn’t extend beyond the castle huh?” Her neutral tone likely made it ambiguous if she was trying to point out a fact and a curiosity, or if she was trying to poke fun at the jester.
When Dante soon showed courtesy by bowing his head slightly, Soren gave him the same gesture in kind. After all, if one wanted a certain kind of treatment, they should do the same thing back. Though, when it came to the relations between servants and nobles, such a view would tend to get one in trouble. “And the same goes for you both.” Even if Soren wondered if it was a pleasure to know the jester. But, at least the jester might keep them from being bored as she took a sip of the wine.
She almost found it a bit odd that Dante was asking about Veritas. However, as she thought about it, she realized they hadn’t heard anything from the old codger lately. She had been focused on others things to take note of the Old God’s absence. However, now that she noticed that detail, she couldn’t help but turn her attention to Claus. “Bet he is hiding somewhere and scheming something if past experience can be relied on.” She took a bite of her food, lingering on the taste of the food to keep herself from taking another taste of the fine wine. “And if that is the case…best we be watching out.” Brought to my knees
Though the darkness surrounds
it pull me down,
I do not sink beneath
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Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2012 1:35 am
Ӄingdom: Avarice
Ɍank: Heiress
Ƚocation: Castle - Library
Ⱦhoughts: A war is not won by doing what is right... To win, one must simply do what is necessary.... ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ Dominique paid Fandral no mind as he made the effort to verbally diffuse her faux ire. He couldn't have known that the very notion that she needed anyone other than herself offended her very strict sensibilities. Though she did often take advantage of the fact that she was seemingly a frail creature...She didn’t tolerate her servants believing that she actually needed them. They were a means to an end--The privilege of being royalty. A convenience.
Fandral however, was very smooth in his words. He had a silver tongue and a way speaking that didn’t infuriate her immediately. “As your life is mine... It isn’t your place to decide what you may and may not do in my stead.”
“Unless I’ve suddenly been rendered lame or weak of mind... Which despite my entrapment in this realm-- I assure you I’ve not.”
Dominique deliberately kept the conversation formal. She’d already expressed more of her personal feelings than she’d meant to. That couldn’t happen. She was the future sovereign of Avarice--Not a woman with plights and petty troubles. She couldn’t appear weak...Not even to her Vice Marshal. If he could stand strong...So could she.
As the man with demon blood thankfully departed--She listened to Fandral’s assumption voicelessly. He did indeed remind her of Justice. The Heir of the Kingdom had been out of sight and out of mind for quite sometime...Perhaps she’d reached a point that she ought to pay him a visit. That is, at least to attempt to show courtesy before she started levying bounty’s on the heads of his people. The man’s tone had been nothing less than disrespectful to her crown. And for that...Her Marshal was right. He would pay.
“I do not have friends Fandral.”, she intoned sardonically-- Brilliant aquamarine eyes shifting like the waters of a sunlit lake. They were a tepid color, moving creatively from amethyst to blue as her mood shifted and changed. “But if the Heir of Justice hasn’t returned to his realm or met some untimely end in the wake of the attack...We might have words.”
Her gaze shifted as she peered through the rain...Glittering orbs landing on the winged creature that watched her group with something akin to trepidation. She decided after a long moment that he seemed to be of Fortitude. John? Or perhaps James? It struck her as odd that she suddenly wanted to trap him in a cage like a bird...A cage at least one size too small.
How odd. The Prince of Fortitude was one more she would need to speak with.
The dynamic shifted when Alphonse arrived. Fandral excelled in militaristic stratagems... But when it came to matters of state, she turned to the demon infested Duke. It wounded her that she had to watch him suffer daily with an infernal beast living under his skin. She was powerless to do anything about it... But someday soon she would rid him of the disease.
When he spoke of his father she nodded her head slowly at his assessment. What the man had done to his son in the pursuit of power was absolutely despicable. “Good answer.”
She listened to his explanation of his curse, hands folded neatly behind her back. Even sopping wet, soaked to the bone, she seemed endlessly regal. A rose among thorns. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, she wished that she could turn to her Mothers for guidance. Esmeraude would know what to do for the afflicted boy. And if she didn’t, Isabeau could use divination to find a solution. She always seemed to know about things before they happened.
“Worry not...We will free you little dove. It may take time.... But my will shall be done. Your demon exists on borrowed time and numbered days.”, her voice was soft, tone almost childishly kind. It was her expression that remained stoic and chilled... A silent warning to the creature that lived within him. Her eyes were fierce...Almost as if she could see the demon within the man.
The mention of General Night made her blood boil. Fandral’s voice echoed her sentiments, causing a small smirk to crawl across rose colored lips. “Either your blade or mine.”
“Father wishes for his head.”
Again, she seemed filled with a childlike wonder at the notion of something so macabre... As if she knew not of what she spoke. Despite the fact that she had recently cleaved a woman in half...If someone was unaware of her history-- They would think her sweet and innocent as they dawn. Naive.
On some level she knew she held an unfair advantage. She tended to keep to herself and exude only imperious demands and unyielding law. She acted as if she’d been born into the role of royalty...Not simply an aristocrat. As if her family had held dominion over Avarice this entire time... As if the Malcanthet and her whoreblood children had never existed.
Alphonse apologized for his ‘rudeness’ and Dominique waved it off. “We shall simply blame your impertinence on the demon in you.”
The words were spoken smoothly, accompanied by a brief flash of pearlescent teeth.
Alphonse erected a ward about her person that warmed her to the core. Her eyes closed for a moment as her clothes dried, causing the minute trembles that fled through her body to cease. Her thoughts drifted easily enough, from the intolerant behavior of the Justian demon, to the impending conversation she would have with the Children of Humility.
She’d been told that the Heir could be... Soft. It made her re evaluate her plan of attack. Once her clothing had dried she listened to Fandral’s take on the fire in the abbey. She didn’t have a formal cabinet of advisors just yet...But this served just as well. “He will listen mon chou...We will neither confirm nor deny any notions of their Princess has been the target of an Avarician attack. It may drive the Heir towards a peaceful resolution...Should things go south, it will provide us the option of deniability.”
“And that will suit my father just fine.”
No sooner had she decided what would happen, did a servant arrive with a message from Ryan Riley himself. He requested an audience with her in the Library-- Soon. It was an odd venue...Certainly not what she would have chosen for their battle ground... But she supposed for the peace-loving Humilitians that it would do.
Brilliant aquamarine eyes flickered over Alphonse-- His victory in this clear, she offered a delicate smile. “I could kiss you Duke...Were it not for the fact that you smell repugnant. Well done.”
She turned back toward the servant and offered nothing but cool indifference. “Inform the Heir that we will meet with him shortly.”
The servant scuttled off-- Backing away from her quickly. There was something about her that made the gentle sir wish to be anywhere else. Ah...It was the memory of cleaning the intestines of her predecessor off the dining room floor. “Right away, Princess.”
With that Dominique demanded that her people depart as she returned to her rooms to change. She could not hold a meeting with another royal-- Looking like a drenched and half drowned tabby cat.
*
Not long later she arrived at the Library the Heir of Humility had holed himself up in. She had spared no sense of regality-- Dressed in mostly white. Embroidered dragons ran through the gossamer fabric with spun gold thread; sun kissed locks pulled half up with a bejeweled comb that fell lead to a waterfall of beautiful curls. Two Avaraician knights opened the double doors for her to the Library-- The white gold of their helmets gleaming the torchlight.
“Announcing her royal highness-- The Grand Duchess Dominique of Avarice.”, the page boy spoke up, declaring her presence to all those that were within the Library. What had once been a comfortable place to study and find repose had been turned into a makeshift conference hall. Oddly enough, there seemed to be jugs of water littering the room. Keen eyes took note of it, but paid it no mind. Her Vice Marshal and Duke followed her entry as she’d demanded...
The meeting that she would have with the Heir of Humility would require credible witnesses.
Rose colored lips fell into a demure smile as she gently closed the fan that hid the lower portion of her face from sight. “Your Grace...”
It was a polite enough greeting. Acknowledging that his status was equal to her own without becoming subservient...That was a sign of weaknesses. The remaining servants and Humilitian guard within the room seemed to freeze and straighten at the sight of her, each coming to attention a little more stiffly than the last at the sound of her voice. It was smooth like silk...But as they’d witnessed a few weeks prior-- Deadlier than any sword.
“Good Afternoon my Lord...How do you fair?”
Small talk and pleasantries were necessary before the major topics came to the table.
It was time that the Children of Humility knew what the former rulers of Avarice had been up to whilst their children has led them into a false sense of complacency. ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛ : . : ♛
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Posted: Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:44 pm
❄xxxLocation:Common room, with Nikolai Bascovxxxxxx❄xxxRank: Future Queen of Prudencexxxxxx❄xxxO O C:xxxxxx
Her emotions wound tighter than a spring coil, her heart raced within her chest, as though plotting its own escape. Careful not to tremble, she clutched the arm of the chair for support. Whatever Nikolai wanted – surely to reiterate the fact that her current betrothal with him had been sealed, she could not foresee their rendezvous going well. No, it would only end in her own misery. Calling back on her teachings and the traditions of their people, the countess built a stone wall around herself, in effort of making it difficult for the prince to read her thoughts.
As much as she steeled herself for the oncoming argument, the storm that passed between them roiled with thunder, but no lighting. Her mouth formed a silent note of gratitude when Nikolai said he would no longer allow his family to use her as though she were a mere page or squire. The majority of her knew that this was likely an olive branch – her ire that day not something most sane people would want repeated. Even still, she could think back on that day, and never recall another time when she'd been so forward and angry. The blush that had reddened her cheeks slowly disappeared as their conversation continued, leaving behind the reminder that she'd burned the very same letter she'd been instructed to give her intended.
Much as she disliked the very idea of being abused, Milani recognized the possibility that Nikolai would exercise his rights to do so. No woman ever contemplated enjoying such behavior, but during their upbringing they were trained in how best to handle the situation. It was expressed lucidly that she should cower, choose not to defend herself, and to not shed a tear if it could be helped. In private afterward, a proper woman could weep in silence as she licked her wounds. “If every man thought as you did, it would not be required of women to take a course in beatings.” She murmured, remembering well those harsher days, and how she'd not been prone sitting down. “Sad is it may be to say, women whose families expect them to wed have them trained to uphold their marital vows to obey.”
The way his mouth shaped around the word “mine” felt oddly possessive to her, though she kept any feelings she had toward the matter to herself, giving nothing away in her expression. It just seemed out of place to her, considering how little he actually cared for her personality – he'd made that blatantly clear. Turbulence troubled her gaze when he mentioned the gallows, but she merely nodded and forced her eyes to find a point on the floor interesting. Always appear to be submissive to your husband's whims. Lessons whispered to her mind, bidding her not to arouse this man's anger. Already she'd seen his sire's bad temper, and she could only hope he would not have inherited the short fuse.
One of her tresses had come loose, and Nikolai impulsively replaced it back in its coiffure, bringing shock to flush her skin and mar her countenance. She took a step back, but when the countess looked upon her betrothed, she found no apology in his features. There had been no regret from being so brash -albeit a gentle, almost tender gesture- in regard to her person. Prudential women were not to be touched before marriage, especially not behind a closed door. Her heart pounded loudly against her ribcage, giving away her anxiety that this situation provided. The prince assured her that the promise not to strike her was one he intended to keep and her lips pulled upward into a small, timid smile.
“That is something not even your brother had promised me.” Not that she'd ever been so bold as to ask him. Such a subject should never be spoken of, lest a woman want to seed the idea into her fiance's head. “Perhaps you won't make such a terrible husband after all,” Milani jested lightly, still quite aware that just because he took a passive stance in aggression, did not mean he wouldn't make her life miserable in some other way, or that he would even rise to the greatness his late brother had promised.
He regaled some of the incidents that had placed black marks upon his reputation – his version quite a deal different than those that crossed the kingdom in a hushed whisper. She closed some of the distance between them, but kept a small amount of personal space out of habit or need, which she wasn't certain. A small smile graced her features when he messed up his tenses as he spoke at length, and she dipped into a curtsy as she thanked him. For now, his attitude, his want to even alleviate some of her fears, even if he was merely lying about his past, somehow made her feel better. Less trapped.
She explained her own gift to him, telling him subtly that he wouldn't be able to lie as she picked them up, but he quite readily accepted her future intrusions, stating that his memories were hers to have, if it would make their marriage easier on both parties. “I did catch one, you know... though it made no sense as to where I got it – you weren't near me in proximity at all.” But she'd seen the assassin kill his brother. “I know the face of the one who slayed Demitri.” There was a quietness in the room for a time, the Countess would allow him to guess on his own that she'd seen him try and save his brother in vain. The experience for her had been unpleasant, she couldn't imagine being the one who'd lived through it. Often it was more of a trial to survive than it was to simply die. As usual, Demitri had been given the better hand.
Nikolai spoke at last, and she took in a sharp breath at his invitation. Did he want to truly patch things up, or was this merely for appearances, because they could not be seen at odds with one another. “Aye, you have given me plenty for my conscience to consider, but I shall take your offer. Perhaps for the first time, we will stand at each others' sides, and appear the stronghold that Prudence expects of our match.” She stepped forward, and held her arm out for him to slip his underneath. At least for now, she'd prove to him her end of the bargain. In public, she'd be the perfect woman, the one everyone expected for a royal marriage.
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 6:09 pm
 I want to live xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI want to run through the jungle Location: Wandering about the halls
Thoughts: I never did care for damp weather. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxThe wind in my hair and the sand at my feet xxxxxxxxxxxx≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
The fog and drizzle had driven Sam inside rather quickly. He could handle a good soaking rain but this never ending damp made his skin crawl. It made his fur spiky as a wolf and it made his clothes itchy as a human. It was uncomfortable and looked depressing too.
He stalked around, trying to dry out, and then trying to wear out the nervous energy that he had discovered once trapped in the castle. He'd managed to scare up a pair of his pants and a shirt once he'd come in so he could get out of his fur without scandalizing everyone here but for the life of him, he couldn't remember where he'd put his shoes.
He paced up and down the empty corridor he'd found, listening to the almost non-existent sound of his bare feet padding along the cool stones. He supposed he should go seek out the others, play nice and make connections. Whatever it was that royal children did. But he lacked the motivation to start on that path. The weather had him feeling testy and he figured snapping at the wrong person would make his life interesting in all the wrong ways.
He spun on his heel, stopped and sighed. For all the nervous energy rolling around inside of him, he was mighty tired of this hall, maybe it was time to venture out among the others after all...
{ooc: sorry for the quality, I had trouble getting this one rolling}
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
I’ve been having difficulties keeping to myselfxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxFeelings and emotions better left up on the shelf Animals and children tell the truth; they never lie Which one is more human?xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxThere’s a thought now you decide
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2012 9:23 pm
  Don't look down, you might fall
Love made rookies of us all...
█║▌│█│║▌║││█║▌│║║█║█║▌│█║▌│║║█║ ▌█║▌
Skylar had been doing a fairly good job of keeping a low profile and staying out of trouble... Then some a** went and blew up the abbey, which in turn scorched up a good portion of the castle and now... shared sleeping quarters. What joy.
She grunted as she pulled on her boots with these thoughts tumbling around in her head. The tiger shifter was never one for getting cozy with others on any terms but her own and this whole sharing quarters thing had gotten old... well when it started.
Having gotten herself together, Skylar rummaged under the bed and grabbed her sword. She saved time by strapping it on as she walked. There were still a few rooms hanging about without use, maybe she could find something to pummel in one of them.
█║▌│█│║▌║││█║▌│║║█║█║▌│█║▌│║║█║ ▌█║▌
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 7:52 pm
 Kingdom: Hubris
Rank: Servant
Location: In the hallway with a shoeless man
This was taking longer than expected. Not to mention the noise level outside of the kitchen alerted her to the fact that people were out there looking for food. “I would very much like to stop this.” She said again to the other two servants that were trying to pin the dress correctly. The two looked up at Ella and an argument ensued, all three going on about something or other which left Ella still on the crate, in the dress, looking silly.
When the kitchen door opened up and a woman walked in, all three maids jumped, Ella freezing in place as the other two stood in front of her to try and hide the dress. “Good Day.” All three managed to say while Soren wandered through the kitchen. She announced she was looking for food and was planning on fixing something if she couldn’t find anything already made. “Can we leave NOW?” whispered Ella to her two companions. The girls nodded and helped Ella off the crate. Gathering her clothes the three were ready to make their get away when someone else entered the kitchen and began prancing around like a fool. Upon closer inspection the girls noticed that the person was indeed a fool, Veritas’s court jester to be exact. Before they could make it out the door Claus stopped them and noticed the clothes Ella was wearing. He danced around Ella before squealing that he didn’t know servants could have such pretty things. And did they get paid? No, they did not, and the question made the girls squirm. “Beg your pardon Lady, Jester, we must be going.” Said one of the servants before they grabbed Ella’s arm and pulled her through the kitchen and out the door. A myriad of people had clustered around the dinning room looking for food but the three escaping girls paid them no attention as they fled through the dinning room and up to the shared quarters that the women were using.
Ten Minutes Later
“I am not wearing that dress again.” Ella grumbled as she put her own clothing on, lacing up her dress as she talked. “I will sew it as is because if I am caught wearing that again by different people, we may not be so lucky next time.” The other two agreed and handed Ella the dress when she herself was properly clothed back in her servants garb. Taking the dress and leaving the shared quarters Ella wandered away and down some halls, looking for a room that was no longer in use and not too badly damaged. Instead, as she rounded a corner, she found someone walking ahead of her. She could not see his face, only his back, but she did notice that he had no shoes on. “Do you need something my Lord?” Ella called out, wondering if he had perhaps misplaced his shoes.
Out Of Character: I figured the two people coming back should interact and not because I missed you or anything Deste >.> (<3)
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 7:03 am
x Location: With Countess DeWinters
In the city, unprepared
Run and hide, stand and stare
Building's crumble in my head
Wave a flag, raise the dead
He watched her quietly, jade eyes focused, though not unkind. He caught each action, each halted breath, no matter how small. Noticed that she held the arm of the chair for support…As if it were the only thing holding her up. There was so much emotion wrapped up in such a small woman. The proverbial color drained from her as she seemed to remember herself, leaving him with a pillar of perceived strength, another grey lady of the Prudential Court.
Despite all of his faults; And there were many…Few could say that the future Black King of Prudence was unobservant. He picked up on many details that others ignored or simply missed. Especially when it came to things that members of Prudence were trained from birth not to acknowledge. It was, in his opinion, a weakness that many nobles needed to overcome. Of course their traditions were important… But their very culture seemed to suffer for the worst of them.
Some men followed the laws of Prudence exactly… And others only followed them when under the scrutiny of the crown. It led to unfair rulings and unjust hangings.
Just or unjust consequences didn’t often concern them—They weren’t Justice afterall. They were simply prudent.
His stormy mood did not dissipate at the notion that he would abuse and break what belonged to him. Nikolai couldn’t fathom that Milani was simply raised to expect that her husband would take out any number of aggressions on her pale flesh—Including anger. If anything, the darkness in his iris seemed to deepen when she mentioned taking a course on beatings. His gaze moved over his future-wife’s countenance… And not for the first time he remembered Fedora sitting in silence—Tears flowing from her eyes like water going downstream. She’d refused to let him call for a medi-practitioner…
Sometimes it was worse when she hadn’t cried at all.
“The councilmen will tell me that I’m too soft. That I’ve not the stomach for the duties of a man…”, Nikolai trailed off, looking away for a moment. This was a conversation he’d had many times both with himself, his mother once broken, and his father. “If a husband is to protect what is his…How is beating his wife like a common whore protection? How can a King protect his people, if he can’t even protect his Queen from himself?”
“Forgive my language, Lady Milani. This is a very tired and worn subject for me…But the short version of my unlawful belief is that fear is not the only way to gain obedience.”, Nikolai confessed, the deep baritone of his voice little more than a quiet rumble. Some Prudential ideals still ran strong through him…Though he seemed to pick and choose which applied. As such, he’d not realized that he was already calling the Countess his…But if she was to be his Queen—If questioned, he wouldn’t deny it.
The living Prince watched her step back as rose painted itself to her skin—Not unaware of why. But he could not apologize…How else could he show her that he was not the black hearted beast the rumors painted him out to be? Actions oft spoke louder than words…And he was quite sure that the Lady had likely heard enough words about his person to last a lifetime.
“Demetri…”, he paused at her smile, the small softening in her expression something he felt like he’d needed to climb a mountain to achieve, “Demetri followed all traditions and laws to the utmost. That is not something he would have promised.”
~You don’t know that.~, said specter interrupted with a frown, looking back towards Milani. Demetri knew that aside from the occasional gaff that Nikolai usually got him out of—He had always followed every instruction that his Father and advisors had given him. Even his courtship with Milani had been structured. From the color of the first flower he’d given her, to the garden’s they walked through.
Nikolai didn’t say anything back to his brother not wanting to seem insane in front of the Countess…But he did shake his head slightly to clue his annoying dead brother in. Of course he would have. He did everything the advisors told him to. Everything.
~All right. You’ve a point. But it doesn’t matter, since we’ll never know.~
Nikolai knew that Demetri was a little surly with the revelation…But it was the truth. He would have done anything that Prudential customs demanded of him. That was why he was the better son, the better King. He was obedient.
He laughed slightly at Milani’s quip, the sound short lived. He wasn’t used to laughter…At least not the sound of his own. “It’s not being a husband that worries me, oddly enough. For some reason I feel like somehow…Someway—A little bird will let me know if I’m messing that up.”
“It’s being King that draws my concern. I may need your guidance from time to time.”, he smiled faintly, the expression once again disappearing like melting snow.
She’d listened to him patiently, so he felt it prudent to listen as she spoke in return. Her gifts were interesting to say the least. It was a good combination with his own, something a little more passive. Two volatile abilities between them could unintentionally level the castle if they ever truly did have a disagreement. His interest was truly piqued when she mentioned that she’d already caught one.
Though the words that fell from her mouth were not what he had expected. His features seemed stunned with the admission, the memory surfacing. He glanced towards his brother, noting the somber expression…As much as Demetri pretended not to care that he was dead…Nikolai knew differently. Shame for not being able to save his twin washed over him and he looked away.
His parents would never forgive him for Demetri. Nikolai would never forgive himself. Oddly, Demetri was the only one that had offered him absolution.
“I apologize that you had to endure that. As I said…If I knew a way I could spare you unpleasant memories such as that…I would.”, Nikolai seemed to have faltered, thrown off kilter. Whereas some might have inquired about the face of the assassin or apologized for not being able to save the better prince… It was something he would never forget. Apology wouldn’t bring Demetri back. “Hopefully the next you receive will be brighter.”
Though he couldn’t imagine many would be. His life was a serious of cruel torments. But he hadn’t lied…She was welcome to any memory he had, if she needed it. He just wished he had a better life to show her.
Nikolai was a little surprised when she held her arm out to him, though he quickly stepped forward to meet her—Not wanting her to take his hesitation as rejection. He simply hadn’t expected her to agree so readily. He cast Milani a small smile as he led her towards the door, “I hope that you’re right Countess…But my goals for the day are much simpler.”
“To be strong…We need to build a solid foundation. It’s clear that we hardly know one another… That needs to change, so we may one day trust one another. So today…It’s not Prudence I must impress.”
He didn’t outright say it—But it would be easy to read between the lines. It was never her reputation in question. She was the perfect Prudential woman…Aside from her occasionally lambasting temper. Something he couldn’t exactly fault her for, given the situation. They’d both been victims of their parents wishes.
All he could do now was attempt to repair the damage. He could sense that it would take time that they really didn’t have… But he was willing to try.
--
((Please note, for those who aren't already aware: Despite what Nikolai believes, Demetri is, indeed, a real ghost. He can only be seen/heard by Nikolai and any characters with a sixth sense.))
Only love worth dying for
Together when the sky falls through
A flash of red, I'll fuse with you
Everyone I come across, in cages they bought
They think of me and my wandering, but I'm never what they thought
I've got my indignation, but I'm pure in all my thoughts
I'm alive...
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 11:32 am
 A lady with a violin,
Playing to the seas
Hearken to the sound of calling
I tied myself to the wheel
The winds talk to my sails, not me
Come to me....Come to me... Somewhere _____________________________________________________ there my fate revealed...
I hear but how will I see? Kingdom Lust Rank: Youngest Princess Location: Destroyed Wing
He might have thought her stubborn, but he'd yet to live with a siren in so close of quarters as the ones they'd be bound to with marital vows. She'd been graced with a curse, where if she stirred the air with a dismissive wave of her hand, most knights would easily cow to her whims, simply by her scent alone. Beguiling, that was what the men in Easterly had said when they had been unlucky enough to cross her path. And those that had heard her voice... Lorelei closed her eyes in sorrow, bit back the sob that wanted to wrench itself from her chest. How many of James' would fall victim, would willingly become her prey? How many would beg to hear one more syllable, vow to fight a war in her honor? These were not the sort of men that a king needed in his court.
And she would transform even the most chaste of men to wanton beggars for her touch. She'd be a plague in his castle that no one would dare try to escape. Slowly, her amber-imbued eyes rose to meet his, long lashes fluttering unintentionally, giving her an air of beauty she herself was not aware of. Lorelei met his gaze, and found no signs of surrender in those depths. The prince seemed immune to her siren's charms, but his chivalry would lead him down the same path that it had his brother. The siren still tried - against Lorelei's will, reaching out to the man, enveloping him with a certain presence, making silent promises that the young princess of Lust would bring him no harm, that he could trust her - despite the warnings that tumbled from those glossy, inviting lips.
He might be immune now... The temptress whispered inside of her, vicious the way it never sounded to others. Ever was her darker nature a harpy to the pathetic princess. But he won't be for long, once you are bedded, sweet thing... I will rise within you, become your equal where you won't be able to stop me. We will rule easily, ascertain whatever it is I desire.
She shivered involuntarily, and with the chill that the low, scuttling storm clouds, the prince before her might have thought that the unforgiving rain had finally saturated her bones. Perhaps she'd spent too much time in the rubble, where she was subject to nature's harsher lessons.
It was this voice she wished James could hear, the malicious, biting seductress that she forced to remain dormant when her will was strong. But it was merely the other side of her, what it meant to be marked by sin. She and others marked in different ways by Lust were the reason that Prudence constantly invaded, determined to wash away the impurities of her people. To wash away their sin however, meant that they had to die so that their spirits would be free of the land's hold, and even then Lorelei wasn't certain that the stain upon their souls ever faded. They were born tarnished; they'd die tainted.
She didn't belong in a virtuous kingdom, where she'd bring with her a reign of desires to the courageous people. But, James Greene didn't see that when she looked upon his face. The siren had masked her apprehension with saccharine, unspoken promises. While they were not made to persuade him to take her now - he had proven immune to that particular charm, despite the temptress' greatest efforts, he'd see what she wanted him to: a girl in desperate need of someone to rely on. If he wouldn't come through her magic, she was determined to use his strengths to ascertain what she wanted - he'd be none the wiser, simply doing what he thought was right. That sort of morality the siren could use.
She had recoiled when he'd expressed his intention to follow custom and take her as his bride. He sighed as she explained how she feared for him and his kinsman, but Lorelei somehow knew she'd be defeated, that he'd insist they'd find a solution to her curse. Her fists clutched at her skirts, grip so hard that her fingers ached, and she looked to the ground for answers that the rain sodden slop couldn't give. It was beginning to rain hard enough that the drops made angry war cries as they crashed from the sky, leaving behind little dents in the dirt as they soaked it.
Gently, she'd felt his hand tuck beneath her chin, one finger lifting her sights to meet his again, so she'd see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. He stated that while she might have been afflicted with a curse, she could not be destined to live out her life in solitude. He mentioned Haven, and she swallowed a lump of what felt to be shards of glass, leaving slivers behind her tongue. "Haven thought he would find a way to mask my songs from his people. As a mage, he believed he could create the answer I've been seeking. " But even he had been a fool, and she too for having faith in his aged form. Such a spell might have usurped the last of his life's force, if the assassin hadn't done him in before. And she'd be in the same boat she found herself in now.
James had naught the powers of a mage, only his own immunity, which he could not spread to his people. He wanted to offer her protection, but soon, it'd be everyone else that would need protection from her.
She listened as he continued, her heart heavy as lead. His Majesty was the epitome of what people wanted in their king. He bid her to be selfish, to think of herself and future. If she did not take his offer, he was right... she'd be in a dungeon, never to feel the sun kiss her flesh to warm it again. At that thought, her form locked away in a dank cellar, she unbunched her hands from her garb, and her arms wrapped about her form. They offered her no heat in the growing cold. That fate had been the worst of her nightmares, what she'd come to expect if she remained in Lust if her mother passed before her hateful father. He'd always promised to see her a spinster, unhappy and alone.
"I do not reject your proposal, your Majesty. I only think of you, and your court's safety. As the wife of a king, it will be my duty to provide you heirs. At the point of consummation of our marriage, I will reach a siren's full potential. So far, what the siren side of me has shown me destruction and dejection, I want you to be spared of that fate." She stared at him with resin colored orbs, honesty painted into her expression. "Your fortitude knows no bounds, for you seem willing to take this risk." And it was a big one, because she knew he could at least feel the temptress trying to snag him like a forest bed too crowded with top soil roots. There was no guarantee he'd continue to be immune once she reached her full potential.
"You are a good man, my Lord." She whispered, allowing herself to take a step closer. "The only way I can make certain that you and your people are safe, is to take a vow of silence after we are joined in marriage. None of your court should hear me utter a syllable, else they be ruined with Lust." Her voice would only be for him to hear, if he so wished.
"I know not how to make a good governess of a household, for I was never trained in the duties women had once they were trothed. You will need patience, with me as your wife, for I know not how to be anything more than you see with your eyes at present." Even now, after he'd promised over and over to protect her, she was giving him an out. He needed to understand the dangers she'd bring into his home. She'd not given him an outright yes, the girl much too meek and hesitant for his own sake to do so. "We will need to take every precaution, even if it means locking me away from the populace if my darker nature becomes dominant. Promise me this, for I want no harm to befall you or your kingdom on my behalf." How she'd loathe being chained in the dark, pressed against the cold stone walls of a cage. But she'd hate herself more if she unraveled such a wondrous kingdom for her own selfish want for freedom.
With her peace said, she'd bargain with no less. "I will not disgrace you, Brother of Haven Greene, and will uphold your customs so long as you agree to those terms when you take me as your bride." Her lungs were tight as she made the formal declaration to accept the betrothal, hating herself for the selfishness she'd given in to. No good would come from being married to a siren.
She shivered once more, this time truly caused by the bite that the wind had brought with it. Searching the skies, the clouds' bellies had darkened in shade, and lighting ripped through the air, bringing a hungry growl to hum in their ears.
Ryan's response crept inside of her mind, and she mentally sighed. ~It seems going to the library would do some good. James is not willing to admit defeat to my curse, no matter what it will do to him.~
[[Oddly Oafish Commentary: oops. that's all I gotta say. Captain will know of what I'm speaking.]]
The siren sang so sweet and watched the sailors go down, anyone would drown
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 12:44 pm
↞ Liam Balin↠ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Location: Training Grounds  A slow, taunting smirk painted itself across Liam's ice-like lips as he watched the prince shiver from the merciless drops of rain. He'd been pampered the entirety of his royal life, and had never thought to ready himself as a warrior. In the knight's eyes, he saw that as a disgrace. If His Majesty had not fallen so ill with fever, this boy would have never had to prepare to be king one day. He'd have lived on the good graces of his brother, had expected a hold of some sort because of his birth. Liam thought he'd expected too much. While it was custom that a prince have land, Nathaniel did not have to bestow his useless, simpering brother with any. Were Liam in his position, he'd have erred on the side of caution, learning what he could in the trade of war to be of use to the king.
This sad excuse for an elf was supposedly his better - Liam struggled to remember that as the prince displayed no skills, no traits that he'd expect from one of the royal family. In a lot of ways, Altonair reminded the would-be general of his little sister, who had been sent home with the eldest son. A failure. He shivered as he donned the armor Liam had given him, but made no promise that he'd request that his own be made soon. The equipment that the knight had given him would suffice, but in a real confrontation it'd prove too large for his slight form. Lest Altonair expected to grow bulky with muscle, he'd need to see a metalsmith and tailor.
Liam bade him to attack, to showcase what skills he did have, and when Altonair lunged forward, he quickly found himself winded from where Liam had easily bruised his side. He'd left it as wide open as a whore's legs. It would not do were he to face an assassin. No wonder he'd been left behind; he was not worth the jerkin he was wearing.
Rolling his eyes toward the ever darkening clouds, he waited impatiently for Altonair to pick himself up from the ground and to quit sputtering as though he'd been victim of a cracked rib. Sneering, Liam gave him advice on why the way he attacked would cause his death, and he assumed the boy was listening. "Attack exactly as you had." He'd ordered, meaning to show Altonair the other areas he should be mindful of.
Altonair seemed astonished that he'd been given no quarter, no time to recover from the blow, but the knight hardly cared. On the field, the prince was far beneath him, and he would treat him as he would a new recruit to the Evian army. Boys were not made into soldiers by coddling. If the prince sought that, he should go back to his mother, and clutch at her skirts to allow her to win his battles for him.
Liam frowned, brows furrowing toward his nose as his student readied himself for another attack; it was clearly not the same as it had been before, the way he'd ordered. The knight caught sight of the girlish parasol at the edge of the grounds, and he shook his head in the slightest of fashions. His hair clacked with the small movement, beads dancing in his hair. "Seems we have an audience." He said, golden eyes turning back to curiously watch the prince's expression soften to something of affection. He disapproved - there was no room for that in war.
Again, as Altonair pressed forward, Liam side stepped, pivoting so that he was behind the prince, facing him. With one swooping motion, he grabbed his calf and flipped him onto his back, the cold mud doing almost nothing to soften his landing.
"You need to learn to follow orders," He said, ready to spit on the prince for his lack of adhering to his instructor's commands. "You left yourself open with that attack in three different ways, despite the fact that your thrust was weak and unhurried by the mere presence of a woman. I bade you to attack exactly as you had before, for I had more to correct you on in that stance. If you will not do as I tell you, there is naught that you can learn from these sessions, save how to have your knight beat you as though you were a stubborn mule, refusing to press forward with its load."
Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, he lifted Altonair as easily as a sack of potatoes to his feet, letting go almost as suddenly as he'd seized him. "Off the field, I am to protect you. On the field, I outrank you. You will do as I say. Is that clear?"
He didn't waste another second. "As you had before, I expect no deviations this time."
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ Too many lost.
Links in a chain passed down through the years,
But ending here, if we just face the pain and the fear...
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 3:43 pm
• Ӎ ɐ э ʆ ɸ ȵ ɐ • ʗ э ɾ ΐ ϛ э • • Ｔｈｅ ａｄｏｐｔｅｄ Ｐｒｉｎｃｅｓｓ, ｈａｉｌｉｎｇ ｆｒｏｍ ｔｈｅ ｋｉｎｇｄｏｍ ｏｆ ＰａｔｉｅｎｃｅLocation: Dining Hall Currently Wearing: This Dress •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•   Maelona continued to smile. Some of it was simply out of habit, and some of it was genuine. Her companions seemed to be rather likeable. "You are kind, and I thank you." She said to the General. There were not may in the castle from her kingdom, and for her to know that someone else would help in a time of need seemed to comfort her slightly. "If only others thought that way. It is a shame that some warriors do not care for anything other than the battle and the respect they win from it." She had suffered at the hands of a knight once, one that was from her own kingdom. That was the day she realized that not all of them were there to help. Some were in it just for the glory and rewards.
Maelona’s blue gray orbs then went to Alistair as he made his own comment on hers. "They taught you well. " It was all she could muster as the smile still played upon her face. Often she wondered what kind of respect she would get if other knew that she was adopted and given the title of princess by the King and Queen instead of it being a birth right. Most of those outside of her kingdom did not know she was an adopted princess. Of course that was not something one would want to bring up.
Maelona took a drink out of her goblet as she listened to the warriors’ exchange banter. It was pleasant company indeed. "I could only imagine the stories you both could tell." Maelona said with a soft laugh. She listened as Millicent added in her own claim of excitement. "I am sure you would have just as many stories to tell, if not more than the knights, Millicent." She said with another small laugh. She could only imagine the lives that the others lead, and could only assume she would find more interest in Millicent’s stories. Maelona never cared much for bloodshed and talk of battle, and with the knights that was what she expected most of their stories to be, though of course she would not object out right to hear them out of respect. •xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx•xxxxx• Louder than sirens
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLouder than bells
Sweeter than heavenxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hotter than hell
""
)( If I missed something someone thinks is important, please let me know and I will edit. Also, sorry its so shitty... For some reason I just cannot concentrate on Maelona. >.< )(
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)(Over.Dose.On.Cyanide)( Crew
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 3:46 pm
❄xxxLocation:Common room, with Nikolai Bascovxxxxxx❄xxxRank: Future Queen of Prudencexxxxxx❄xxxO O C:xxxxxx
Her fingers gripped the arm of the chair for support while she stood beneath his scrutiny. His jade eyes, she knew, missed little in her faulted appearance, yet he held back any reprimand in that regard. Of all the people in the world for her to make a mistake in front of, Nikolai was the last of her choices. With a simple command, he could end her, ruin her reputation and with that, her family's name. With their obvious hatred of one another, she almost expected just that to happen. But no malice lay within his stare. That alone left her befuddled, curious about the black prince of Prudence in a way she couldn't afford to be.
Quickly, she righted her stance, donning the masque of perfection, her expression giving no more away than what she herself could allow - a small way to prove that she'd be as she'd trained to be, a stronghold of strength and wisdom that the king could rely upon.
His mood didn't lift from the sour air as they spoke of his right to punish her for whatever reason he saw fit, be it her doing or not. Nikolai's gaze darkened when she mentioned the course she'd been put through, as though it offended him that they taught Prudential women to accept the lambasting of their husbands. She nodded as he spoke of the councilmen, who would advise when his temper became too gruff to seek out his wife, one of her expected duties to be his whipping pole for his frustrations. Her head tilted as he spoke of protection, and how hypocritical it seemed that he was allowed to beat his wife. "Women are not always held in the regard that, as wives, they are to be cherished." Their kingdom was cold, void of such consideration. "Women," She quoted the lines she'd heard during her childhood back to him, idly wondering if he'd ever been able to bear witness to how women were taught. Such customs were forbidden for men to see; it was the female's way of keeping some mystery about them. "Are to be obedient, quiet reserves of strength for their husband. Their primary duty is to provide sons to carry on the family name. They are to serve their husbands in whatever means that he requires - be it a source for him to take out his aggravation, a silent soul to listen to his grievances," She gulped a lump of air, not allowing her sapphire eyes to meet his gaze for the next. "Or for his carnal desires. She is to never deny her husband any of this, lest she be dubbed unfit as a wife, and thrown to the gallows to that he might find a better woman not tainted with the rebellion of sin."
As a child, she thought she'd make a horrid wife. None of those requirements had made her entirely overjoyed to be groomed as the next queen of their kingdom.
He apologized for his short temper regarding the matter and she relaxed little by little. "Obedience is expected of me, and I have given you my word that I will try to uphold it." But it was the one expectation that she struggled with most, which all of the others that required it of her would prove difficult for the countess. She didn't ever desire to be a mere serf to a man, and in her eyes, the title of "wife" made it no better. It was just a word, a word that entitled a man to do with her what he wished, and gave him that sole right.
What she didn't mention to him, was that until they were married, she'd been warned to be wary of the men who stayed in their court. Right now, she was merely a countess, a high ranking knight could still try to abuse her. Given who she was to marry, she hoped Nikolai's position as heir would save her from it, but Milani would not hold her breath upon that small shred of optimism. Idly, she wondered if he'd then order that the law change.
She stepped back, abashed at his sudden behavior. His willingness to show any sort of affection and physically touch her, chaste as the motion might have been, enough that she went scarlet to the roots of her hair. The prince showed no signs of remorse from his deviations from their traditions, however. Instead, he let it serve as further proof that he truly meant what he'd said about not breaking her. Caged in a marriage as she might be, at least no harm would befall her from her husband's hand.
At the mention of his late brother, she had smiled, murmuring how she hadn't gotten any promise like that from her former trothed, and Nikolai responded with what she'd expected. "When we courted, I knew that. Even though he was gentle, kind and oft sent flowers to my chambers, I knew not to hope for his temper to always be so even. Your brother was a traditionalist, and I oft doubted that he was ever sincere in his fondness for me, or it was simply him blindly following customs." The kiss he'd sealed their engagement with had been thin, airy without feeling. Hesitant, as though he knew naught what to do.
The prince had been everything that a woman wanted in a husband; she could not have refused his offer when it was so clearly expected of her. Never before his death did she question the path she'd been walking upon - now that Demetri was dead, she had been left to ponder a great deal of matters.
They would have had a comfortable marriage, but she knew that the first years it would be without affection, and she could only hope that a bond would form over time, for the both of them.
Nikolai laughed at her small jest and even to her it sounded foreign, but not forced. Her smile softened the whole of her countenance, somehow making it more lovely. "Oh, I'm sure a little bird could be arranged for such a purpose." She said, cheeks rosy with laughter. "Though, being so bold..." It'd been what she'd wanted as a girl, to be able to speak frankly with her partner in life. Such a life did not exist in Prudence. It was too much to ask of him. "My ways will be subtle, less brash as I have been in recent events." Women's ways of fighting were left in the passive aggressive area.
"That you're worried about being a king eases some of my concern." The future queen admitted, shoulders slacking in result. Slowly, bits and pieces of Prudential form melted away, just for a scant amount of seconds before she caught herself, and rebuilt the wall around her true personality. "If you seek my council, I promise to give what insight I can." She wouldn't say that she'd been reading endlessly in the library, making note of histories of other kingdoms, strategies that generals had taken to win the war. Such behavior would have brought insult to Nikolai, indirect as it was. But she simply wouldn't stand for Prudence to crumble during his reckless rule.
She explained to him the power that the goddesses had bestowed upon her, reflecting just a little on one of the memories she'd gained. Still, it puzzled her. Every other time, she had needed to be in contact with the person or an item that had been close to the scene to see it. Unless Demetri walked as a spectre within the walls of the castle, she had no explanation for it. And she'd believe no nonsense in trying to feed herself the line that he remained among them, not yet crossed over. "I'm sorry that you had." Milani responded, shaking her head, truly sympathizing with the prince. While they had their differences, no one deserved to watch their brother die.
"Hopefully." The countess agreed, though the hope for that was but a thin veil. Rarely did she see something joyous. Negativity hung around with more ferocity.
Her betrothed asked to escort her to dinner, and she did her best to gracefully accept, not wishing to untangle the progress they'd made with one another this day. She held her arm for him to take, and he appeared surprised, as though he expected her to decline, treat him as the pariah he was in their kingdom. How could she though, when he was trying for her sake?
He led her toward the door, stating that he was not attempting to impress those of their kingdom, or even the audience they'd have from the other realms. Today, he was trying to make peace with her. A small, nervous laugh escaped her throat without her permission and she looked down at her slippered feet as they walked through the corridors, face flush once more.
"Aye, but one must always remember their station." She said, willing to coach him on the things he'd missed during his childhood. In truth, the king and queen had failed to be prudent; they'd put all their eggs into one basket, depending on Demetri's success. Nikolai should have been given the same upbringing, just in case.
Now, she had to help him make up for lost lessons, and already the sands of time were slipping fast through their fingers, the winds taking them where they could not be retrieved.
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Posted: Thu Jan 03, 2013 9:58 pm
All I want is something realSomething I touch and can feel Cat.
Location: Hallway, looking for trouble.
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In the weeks following the nightmare in the forest, Cat had managed to keep a fairly low profile in spite of the shared sleeping arrangements forced upon the inhabitants of the castle since the burning of the abbey... and part of the castle itself. Yeah, that was important. The problem with Cat's good behavior, which at first glance might seem like a good thing, was that it left the little pyro feeling awfully bored. If those who knew her had been aware of this fact, no doubt they would have hurried to occupy her mind, given that she had a tendency to get into trouble when left to her own devices.
For right now she was mostly harmless, occupied in an alcove by herself as she was. She had perched on the edge of an end table tucked into the alcove in front of a window and was looking out at the rain and fog curling up against the glass from the outside. Glass was a rare commodity. Not even all the palace windows at home had it, it being reserved for impressing visitors and keeping the royal family comfy. Cat's attention at present was wandering as her fingers made doodles on the condensation on her side of the window pane. Her legs swung freely since they didn't quite reach the floor.
Her finger stilled and her eyes jumped up when she heard footsteps in the hall and after a moment, a small smile came to her face as she recognized the tread. After all she had spent enough time harassing the owner on the excuse of their betrothal. She turned her head and leaned over enough to spot Dafydd striding along the hall right towards her. She stifled the smile, striving for an innocent look as he drew near.
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I'll hold it close and never let it go
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Posted: Thu Jan 03, 2013 10:25 pm
I want to live xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI want to run through the jungle Location: Wandering about the halls
Thoughts: I never did care for damp weather. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxThe wind in my hair and the sand at my feet xxxxxxxxxxxx≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
Sam had just about convinced himself to go find some people to mingle with when a soft voice made him turn and he felt a small smile touch his lips in response to the sight that greeted him.
"Hello, Rabbit," he said softly using his pet name for her as he took in Ella's appearance. She looked a little harried and had a bundle of fabric in her arms. He tilted his head as he tried to examine it without seeming to. It certainly did not look like the something his timid friend would wear.
Friend? Sam turned it over in his head a few times and decided it was true from where he was standing as to Ella, and yes, he was aware of the girls name, he just refused to use it, well that was another matter entirely. He was afraid that his rank, for all that he ignored it, was still a stumbling block for her. "What are doing?" he asked, nodding towards the dress and letting his curiosity show.
≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎
I’ve been having difficulties keeping to myselfxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxFeelings and emotions better left up on the shelf Animals and children tell the truth; they never lie Which one is more human?xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxThere’s a thought now you decide
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