[IC] 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

[princess]

Time:Morning
Location: Church of Sorian --> The Royal Curd
Attire: Hair Style, Dress
Interaction:@FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

"Hey King! We're here for the cheese!"

As the peasants filled the seats around them, her attention shifted from her journal to the newcomers as their shout about cheese sliced through the solemn atmosphere of the church. Her pen paused above the page as she watched King Edin's barely controlled annoyance.

The absolute nerve of this man!

Edin's smile might have fooled the newcomers, but Charlotte saw right through it, and boy was she suddenly much more interested in the ceremony. The directness of their approach was refreshing amidst the ceremony's idiocy. She looked around as peasants began filling the back rows, surrounding her and Lorenzo rather quickly. Her smirk deepened as King Edin made no effort whatsoever to try to conceal himself as he signaled the guards to close the door.

Placing her pen down, she turned to fully face the peasant woman who had unwittingly found a seat next to her.

The woman's eyes widened in recognition, and she began to stammer an apology, obviously flustered by her proximity to nobility.

"Oh. You're the Lady Charlotte Vikena... Oh no... And next to you is the Duke. I'm so sorry. I didn't expect that you'd be seated back here, I hope you—"

Charlotte gently enveloped the woman's hand in both of hers, offering a comforting squeeze to halt her worried rambling. With a soft, reassuring smile, she whispered, "...It’s lovely to have you sit beside me."

The peasant woman’s expression softened, visibly relieved by Charlotte's kindness. She nodded gratefully, her initial tension easing into a more comfortable demeanor. Just then, King Edin’s voice resonated through the church as he proudly announced the unveiling of a new portrait.

As the draped canvas was revealed, showcasing the defaced image of the king, Charlotte couldn’t suppress her surprise. She stood up to get a better view, and around her, the peasants were already bursting into hushed, yet unrestrained laughter. The hastily painted mustache and horns on King Edin’s portrait were so absurdly out of place that Charlotte couldn't help but let out a chuckle. She quickly covered her mouth with both hands, trying to compose herself. When King Edin attempted to pass off the defacement as an intentional piece of creative expression, the situation became even more ludicrous, and Charlotte bit her lip hard to stifle her laughter.

Thankfully, the atmosphere quickly shifted as the orchestra and choir launched into an extravagantly dramatic piece, an attempt to restore some dignity to the event. There were always those who were fooled, but Charlotte knew that he could only fool so many with this much absurdity. She knew that these ceremonies usually dragged on for hours, yet today's spectacle seemed doomed to a brisk conclusion, all thanks to a mustache on a portrait.

A giggle escaped her again, and she politely covered her mouth, whispering apologetically to the peasant woman beside her, "I'm sorry. This is too funny."

The woman stared at her alarm at the sudden fit of giggling, but an expression of amusement slowly crossed her face.

As the church slowly emptied with people eager for the free food at The Royal Curd, she exhaled deeply. She slipped her journal into her shoulder bag and lifted her head, ready to exchange a glance with Lorenzo. Instead, her gaze halted on a scene unfolding before her that seemed completely out of place.

At first, it appeared almost normal, the sight of a man entering the church with his child, but the harsh grip on the boy's wrist and the stern, urgent pace down the aisle struck her as odd. The church lights dimmed suddenly, as if clouds had swept over the sun, but it was more than that—the entire atmosphere of the church shifted. Her eyes darted toward the windows, observing the night sky behind the stained glass with confusion.

She looked back at the man, his features harsh and drawn by a severe expression, as he dragged the little boy along. The boy’s features, blurred at first, came into sharper focus, and something about him tugged at her memory. He looked frightened and confused, struggling against the man’s grip.

"I... Lorenzo... I'll meet you outside. I'm going to see if everything is okay." Charlotte heard her own voice as it echoed strangely in the now somber church.

The man paid no heed to anything around him, his lips set in a grim line, muttering fervent, disjointed prayers. As he moved he shouted at the child, his voice rising, "Pray, boy, pray! Pray to be cleansed of the evil that taints your soul!" He continued to drag the young boy by the wrist, heading towards a small, dimly lit room off to the side of the church—where parishioners often sought counsel in private.

Charlotte moved without thinking, her feet carrying her forward to intervene. As she approached the room, the door was slightly ajar, allowing her to see the man pushing the boy inside roughly. Without hesitation, Charlotte pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. Inside, the man was scolding the boy, his voice a harsh whisper that echoed slightly in the confined space.

"There is nothing good about you." the man hissed, his back to Charlotte. "In fact, you are nothing. A blight upon our family, drawn to the darkness like a moth to flame. You must pray! Pray for redemption, for only the Gods can cleanse the vile taint from your soul!"

The boy was cornered against the cold wall, his small face streaked with tears and dirt, his body shaking. His brown eyes, wide and filled with a haunting fear, met Charlotte’s for a fleeting second. His voice trembled as he attempted to recite the prayers his father demanded, but fear choked his words, turning them into barely audible whispers.

Charlotte’s heart clenched at the sight as she stepped forward, "Stop! You can't treat him like this!" she exclaimed, her voice firm, but her words seemed to pass unheard as if she was nothing more than a wisp of air.

Not satisfied with the boy's faltering words, the father's wrath escalated. "Words are not enough!" he bellowed. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he shook him violently, as if trying to expel the darkness he believed lurked within. "You must feel the penance in your bones!"

She reached out immediately, her hands passing through the figures as though they were nothing more than ghosts.

The father then pushed at the boy's back. "Kneel!" His voice thundered as he threw a handful of coarse salt onto the hard, cold stone floor. The boy knelt, his small frame shaking as the sharp crystals bit into his tender skin, drawing out a pained cry from the boy.

"The gods demand your suffering for your wickedness." the father insisted, the fanaticism vivid in his tone. The intensity in the crazed man's eyes made Charlotte's stomach churn; she stumbled back, her hands flying to cover her face.

As the boy knelt, sobbing and praying, the dreadful sound of a leather strap striking his back filled the air, Her eyes widened in shock and her teeth clenched.

"Lady Vikena...?" A voice reached her ears, but it took the man asking once more for her to respond. She lifted her head from her hands and found herself staring at one of the church attendants as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Blinking away the remnants of the vision, Charlotte found herself back in the brightly lit room. The figures of the boy and his father had vanished, leaving her alone with the attendant. She took a shuddering breath, her gaze lingering on the empty space. "Yes... I'm fine." she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. From the look in his eyes, she could tell her words had been heard out loud when she had exclaimed prior. Stumbling back toward the door, Charlotte excused herself,"I'm fine. I must go."

With that, she found herself joining Lorenzo once more, and the two of them made their way to the Royal Curd, which wasn't far at all luckily. Once seated at a small table in the event room, Charlotte made an effort to hide how shaken she was visibly, even trying to focus on how absurdly yellow everything was. However, she was unsuccessful.

...I suppose maybe I am cursed then.

[Tae]

Time: Morning
Location: Munir's Room
Attire: Munir's Shirt
Interaction: @Infinite Cosmos Munir (hubby)
Mentions:

Mature Content Warning

”Surely I don't know what you're talking about.” Mina teased with a grin as he squeezed her waist, but then he was close and whispering in her ear. Feeling Munir's breath hot against her earlobe, Mina's cheeks flushed with warmth, her body responding to his closeness with a mixture of desire and anticipation. His touch ignited a fire within her, one that threatened to consume her entirely if she didn't exercise some restraint.

”I…” She was cut off, letting out a gasp of surprise as he bit her earlobe then she was on her back and staring up at him. Her chest rose and fell in slightly ragged breaths as heat pooled deep in her core. ”Is that a promise or a threat?” She finally murmured out in a breathy voice as she angled her head to give him even more access to her neck. Her body instinctively arched up into him, knowing she was just about to lose all self control.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Munir's passionate advance was interrupted by the sound of someone at the door, causing Mina to let out an exasperated sigh. She shot Munir a playful glare as he excused himself to attend to Hakim, her disappointment evident in her eyes.

As Munir leaned in for one last kiss, Mina couldn't help but lose herself in the moment, savoring the taste of his lips against hers. Reluctantly, she pulled away as he left to collect the clothing, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I suppose I can forgive the gods this time," she teased, her voice laced with longing. ”But they owe me one." Despite her words and disappointment, she took the brief moment alone to try and calm her racing heart. She knew she needed to get a hold of herself, to follow through with her suggestion of going out, but just as she thought she was calming down her mind would betray her with fantasies that could be.

As Munir returned with the clothing, Mina nodded in agreement to his suggestion as she stood up. "Yes, Bertha's sounds perfect," she replied, a hint of excitement in her voice as she watched him set the clothing down. "Stay. I'm going to need help changing.” She said just as he turned around, all the while letting his shirt slip off of her shoulders and pooling around her feet, her lips curling into a smirk as she watched Munir's reaction.

[Infinite Cosmos]

Location: Where the magic happens
Interactions: @Taewifey

It's Munir and Mina. What did you think was going to be said here? Mature content warning!

"It is a promise of a threat, my love. I promise that my threat of ravaging you will come true..." Munir whispered back. As Munir returned to his bed chamber with an arm full of clothing items, he started to parse through them and hanging them on various surfaces around his room. Soon enough,, the backs of most chairs in his room were covered in various pieces of season-appropriate clothing items. "I'm going to assume my dear Hakim went to your ladies in waiting and told them we're going out... These are far too vibrant for him. I'm sure he had no hands in the choosing of these items... Though. I must say. These all look awfully nice... Just that they might look better if they had slipped off your shoulders onto the floor instead of being hung on these chairs..." Munir said in jest, stroking the fabric with his thumb and index finger.

"And what do you mean owe you one? Like you would stop at just one..." Munir said as he walked up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, allowing some of his weight to fall on her as he rested his head on her shoulders "We both know I'm not the only one that woke up with an appetite..." Munir said, once again whispering in Mina's ear.

Mina told him to stay and help her change. The intimate nature of that request is pushing him to the edge of his control, and he is already serious contemplating acting on his more primal desires when Mina stepped from him, and allowed his shirt to fall off of her shoulders and pool at her feet. The way the sun peeked through the half open shutters and the way it illuminated the small hairs on Mina's flawless skin was the last straw. He took in the sight in front of him. It was as if the Sun God took a piece of clay and molded this woman in front of him. How can a creature of God be so striking? Munir bit at his bottom lip and shook his head ever so slightly as he walked slowly up to her "You're tempting fate, my love... You're tempting fate at this point." With one arm behind Mina's lower back, Munir pulled Mina to him so they were face to face.

ehehe

Mina would feel Munir's manhood react how it was supposed to react, pressing against her garden through his trousers

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Munir said before he quickly spun Mina around so her back was facing him and he swiftly gave her backside a crisp smack.

"But am I such a weak man that you think I'd take you right here and then? Normally, yes I would. I won't deny it. I want you. All of you. But. I also want to show you off. I want the world to see us together and be jealous. I want them to be envious of us. So get dressed, so we can get breakfast. Then I'll have you as dessert with the sound of rain drowning your screams of pleasure." Munir said confidently, in an almost commanding tone before he gave her a wink and found a chair to sit down, ready to enjoy the show.

[princess]

Time: Morning
Location: Church of Sorian
Attire:Dress, Flats, Crown and Earrings
Interaction: @Lava Alckon Farim @Rodiak Nahir @Silverpaw Wulfric

---

"Hey King! We're here for the cheese!" Anastasia echoed the peasant as she held Fayette's hands up in the air with a giggle, dancing with the child, who giggled along with the princess, as she repeated in a sing-song voice, "Here for the cheeseee!" She quieted down after receiving a cautionary glare from one of the guards but couldn't fully suppress her giggles, fits of laughter breaking through her lips.

Truthfully, Anastasia had no idea what her father was talking about half the time, but it sounded inspiring. She made sure to throw her fist in the air enthusiastically after each statement, which Fayette echoed. Beau also climbed on the pew to join them in their salute.

Once the portrait was revealed, Anastasia gasped, "That's... That's so beautiful." She whispered and nudged Farim's elbow. "I love it." She told him. "He looks so regal in that painting and... the horns! They symbolize how stubborn he is, like a bull, in the face of adversity. I totally get it!" The children applauded her statement, their eyes filled with awe.

"I love it too, mademoiselle! I draw mustaches like that as well!"

"Oh yes! It's magnificent!" Beau exclaimed, his hands moving to his cheeks with surprise.

Earlier than usual, the final song began playing. The orchestra always played the same one, and Annie remembered the words for the most part. So, Anastasia took the opportunity to sing along, moving out from the pew with the little girl still on her shoulders to dance in the aisle as she sang.

"In the heavens high, the gods do pain,
Zivitas’ light, guiding lame.
Triumpheus’ strength, a victor’s pride,
Amora’s love, forever on our sliiiiide!"

She reached down to take Beau's hands with a giggle, pulling the little boy into a dance with her. The children laughed and sang along, their voices blending with Anastasia’s.

"Ooooooo Edin, our king, divinely pissed,
In your rule, we find our wreeeeck!
Prince Wulfric, legacy in sand,
Guides our future, hand in saaaaand."

Anastasia twirled with Fayette on her shoulders, her voice ringing out clearly as she turned to serenade her Wulfric as his name came up in the song.

"Hail Edin, kiiiing and lies!
In your pain, the gods delight.
With Prince Wulfric, WISE! and STRONG!,
To gods and king, we raise this song!"

Once the song was over, she set Fayette down with her brother with a giggle. Both were beckoned by their father and she waved sweetly to them before turning to Farim, Nahir, and Wulfric. "That was a great time, but it's gonna be an even better time trying out this new restaurant. I've heard awesome things. You all can follow me... Includes you too Calby and Count Monet! Come along! " She then led the group of those interested along outside to a carriage, and they then traveled down the road to the restaurant.

"Oh my Gods! They give free cheese immediately at the fucking door! That's amazing!" She exclaimed upon entry. As she looked around the room, she took in the sight of all the cheese decor and clasped her hands together in pure delight. Once her eyes set upon the waitress, she beamed. "Wow you are a work of art, ma'am! Truly! I will remember you until the day I die." She dramatically proclaimed and helped herself to a cheese cube. She turned to Farim and presented a cheese cube for him to consume as she told him, "We can all sit at the table near my dad. We're special guests, so he won't mind!"

[SilverPaw]

	Attire: A toga (over a tunic) and sandals Date and Time: Sola 24th, Morning Location: The church -> The Royal Curd Mention(s): Interaction(s): @princess Beau, Anastasia, @Lava Alckon Farim

The claps were still resounding even minutes later after Edin’s arrival. The applause lasted much longer than was warranted, yet so many people’s faces shone with genuine joy and awe.

Next to his side, a young excitable voice declared, “I want to be just like King Edin one day!”

For the first time, Wulfric truly looked at the child. There was such powerful admiration in Beau’s gaze. How old was the boy, seven, eight? Wulfric recalled when he was that age. He had still looked up to his father then. The first inklings of doubts had perhaps started creeping in, but he had only gradually become aware of them throughout the years, and it wasn’t until–

It wasn’t until his father showed his true colours that Wulfric was disabused of all notions of his greatness.

In this one respect – looking up to Edin as a boy – Beau was like him.

How dreadful would it be if the child never learned the truth?

Wulfric lay a palm on the boy’s shoulder, and the youth almost startled, then turned around with a gasp. “Prince Wulfric?” he whispered as if he couldn’t believe that the crown prince had touched him. The child looked up at him wide-eyed, but as the royal offered him a small smile, Beau was quick to grin up at him. He became very jittery, raising onto the balls of his feet as if he wished to hop up and down but was restraining himself. The boy looked as if he might burst from the uncontainable amazement at a dream come true.

Wulfric leaned down to be closer to eye-level with Beau. He beckoned the child closer, then whispered into his ear, “You can be better.” With how loud the applause was, even the child barely heard him.

“W-what? Really?” he exclaimed, utterly thrilled, eyes sparkling with wonder.

Wulfric nodded even as he distanced himself, mirth subtly playing across his expression. The boy was about to exclaim something, but the prince placed a finger in front of his lips, hushing the boy even as he indicated that his words were a secret. Beau clapped both hands in front of his mouth, and bobbed his head rapidly. His expression shone with an indescribable happiness as he gazed up, and he did jump this time. A laugh burst out from the boy, and he flailed around strangely as he proclaimed, “Alright!”

Wulfric inclined his head, then turned to the front as he retook his seat, adopting his de-facto neutral expression with ease. “Let us pay attention, now,” he remarked. He didn’t catch it, but Beau was mimicking him, trying his best to appear serious, intense focus overtaking the child.

The king’s speech followed with pomp and circumstance. His father’s words were so familiar, it was on the level of white noise to Wulfric, so he tuned it out. Perhaps, Edin’s words today were slightly different, but the sentiment was the same.

It was always the same.

He was prepared for hours of boredom.

However, there was a change.

The doors groaned open, and a crowd started filling in. Those were commoners, but not just any commoners. They were the slummers. The homeless. The beggars. People he rarely interacted with, and people who were rarely – almost never – seen at these events.

“Hey King! We're here for the cheese!” one of them declared.

It was curious that they were here. How had they found out about the event? Wulfric knew how deplorable literacy was among the lower classes, and he didn’t take the poor as the sort of people who’d read the newspaper even if they could.

Predictably, Edin had the doors forced close as soon as he could. The empty back rows had filled, but there were still a good two dozen people who’d been forced to remain outside. They could have been let in, as there was space to stand in the back. Nonetheless, it was certain that Edin didn’t want them here.

Each of us can thrive? What about them? he questioned for the first time. While he didn’t mind welfare related projects per se, he had always let others, such as Auguste, deal with that. Whenever he bothered to think of them at all, he figured the poor were simply unlucky, or perhaps too undisciplined to succeed.

However, he had had several poignant conversations in the past few days. With Lady Saiya. With Callum. With Count Hendrix.

Now, seeing such a concrete example of a group of people being barred from a public event on Edin’s whim, he couldn’t help but wonder.

If hypocrisy could burn, his father wouldn’t just turn to ashes – he’d be eradicated from existence, not even a speck of dust remaining.

The event went on, though once again, in an unpredicted direction.

A new portrait wasn’t so strange, but for it to have been defaced?

Wulfric raised his brows at the painting, a smirk twitching into existence. He suppressed it before it fully formed. Others were less careful, and the surprise in the church was audible. The gasps were followed by interspersed laughter, some nervous, some startled, some foolishly carefree.

He heard giggling in the vicinity from Anastasia and the children. His sister went on to perform the last song, or rather, a heavily parodied version of it. It was times like these where it occurred to him that Anastasia might secretly be a genius or a master manipulator. But then, he knew her, and she was…Well, there was a reason she could befriend juveniles so easily.

Wulfric shook his head as he went back to watching the proceedings, perplexed by the oddities of children.

After the revelation of the painting, the event was cut short. Multiple royal servants began going up and down the pews, handing out tickets. Wulfric watched them, pondering.

When one of them came to their pew, he stopped her with a single hand motion. “I do not need one. Could you encourage those who do not wish or need for a ticket to leave them to you? I will ask the same of your colleagues. Can you do so as well?” She nodded eagerly.

Thereafter, Wulfric positioned himself strategically closer to the end of his pew, and intercepted any attendants who were in the vicinity, issuing the same request.

At the end of it, there were only a few who’d decided not to take a ticket. Regardless, there’d been extras initially. Altogether, it was enough to cover the remaining…peasants.

They were lingering there outside, even as the rest of the visitors had left by now. Several of the impoverished who had received tickets were nervously talking to those who had not.

“Feh!” one of them spat on the ground. “What a fuckin’ sham! Knew it was too good to be true.” He snorted bitterly. “C’mon, let’s scram, there’s nothin’ here for us,” he signaled to the others, to those who had been left without.

“Aren’t you here for the cheese?” Wulfric called out. He motioned to the servants who’d accompanied him, tasking them with distributing the rest of the tickets.

“Wha- so there is more?” Confusion abound among the group. “Is that because of Callum?” one of them whispered. “You idiot, he’s a prince–” a woman berated him.

“Callum?” Wulfric immediately zeroed in on the man, however. “He’s my youngest brother. Have you seen him?”

“Uh, nay…Your highness. There was this man,” he proceeded to explain about a rich stranger they’d met that morning. While most had cautiously dispersed in the direction of the restaurant once receiving their ticket, a few remained, pitching in with what information they had. From their expressions and posture, Wulfric noted as much suspicion as he did fear, though there was interest there too.

“I see…” he mused once he received a description of the man. It seemed this had been Alexander Deacon’s scheme. “Thank you. Enjoy your cheese,” he smirked. He signaled the attendants to accompany him, and they took the short ride in a carriage towards The Royal Curd.

The building was an explosion of gold and yellow. Wulfric had barely arrived, yet he could feel his eyes smarting already.

As he and his retinue entered, a cheese-themed waitress greeted them. By the end of this, I will have had enough cheese for a lifetime.

“They are with me. Send me an invoice, would you?” he requested. Not all of the ticket-distributors had tickets of their own, what with their little act of charity. He didn’t mind paying the fee, though it did leave him with the question whether this restaurant would ever run a profit.

Upon being received, he ventured further in. Immediately, he was greeted with a large fountain. It was meant to invoke the feeling of spilling liquid gold, or melted cheese, perhaps, but all he could think was–

Why would you build a fountain which looks like it’s spewing urine?

Shaking his head, he found the table Anastasia and Farim had chosen. “Greetings, I hope you do not mind me joining you?”

[Helo]

Lord Leo Smithwood

Time: Morning
Location: Sorian’s shrine of Edin to The Royal Curd
Interactions: none
Daily Misfortune: Leo's hair and skin are now hot pink.

Leo prepared himself for the arduous hours of church-filled boredom that were surely about to commence. As King Edin began a speech that was all gods this and holy that, the young lord’s mind quickly began to wander. Irritatingly, his mind wandered back to something Riona had said; She’s waiting for you to snap. See how much you take after your father when that happens. A comment he’d chosen to ignore at the time, because it was a ridiculous utterance from a nobody who likely knew nothing about his father, and arguing with maids in the street was a bad look for him.

Was his father’s temper bad enough for Lady Morrigan to have commented on it? Sure his parents fought, frequently, but didn’t everyone’s? Duke Feralt certainly had little patience when it came to dealing with servants and the unimportant, but he’d always been to keep decorum when it mattered. Hadn’t he?

Leo didn’t care for these thoughts, he didn’t care for anything that made him doubt the image he held of his father, a man whose best qualities he could only dream of emulating, a faultless duke who led without doubts.

The reveal of Edin’s portrait came as a welcomed distraction, something else to think of as the horns and crude mustache marred the king’s visage. May these fictitious gods bless the idiot who did that. He thought as he admired vandalism, the failed attempt of a flustered king to appear unbothered, and the stifled laughter that murmured through the crowd. This could only make his stay in Caesonia a little more interesting.

His eyes scanned the crowd, tried to pick up on who showed visible signs of amusement, and wondered when the church had become filled with some of the filthiest peasants he’d ever seen. How hard was it to at least take a bath before going to the king’s service? He sincerely hoped these unsightly peasants wouldn’t be joining the rest of the congregation at the Royal Curd, surely such an unscale establishment held a dress code.

Much to Leo’s disappointment, The Royal Curd was in fact infiltrated by those who smelled and looked, far worse than even the stinkiest of cheeses. The Royal Curd itself was a bit questionable; an overwhelming sea of bright yellow and golds, overdoing the cheese theme to a childish degree, and it all clashed terribly with Leo’s newfound complexion. Still he thanked the strange cheese-maiden and made his way to one of the event tables, at the very least the cheese here had to be good.

[Potter]

Olivia & Roman

---

Roman watched closely to her reactions, a cute stutter of his name, clenching fists around her menu, and occasionally glancing towards another table. His eyes did follow hers to a pair a few tables away, the duo looked familiar but he couldn't really quite tell from where. She did look lovely in her dress and accessories.

Adjusting his arm in its sling for a moment he pondered her question, his eyes briefly roaming over her form to get a better judge of ability and physique even if it might feel like he was checking her out. “You can just call me Roman, a friend of Charlotte's doesn't have to use my title.” he kept a slight smile. “Hmm am I a blacksmith? Yes, I am also an able carpenter, a wood carver, stone mason, and glass blower on occasion. One must know many trades to be an artisan guild master." He wasn't telling her these things to gloat but more so as a slight tease.

Olivia noticed his sling, but waited to speak so she didn’t interrupt him. His gaze over her was not lost. It caused a blush to run across her cheeks faster than she could hide it. Olivia observed his physique in return. He was so muscular.

A mischievous grin formed on her face quickly. “Well, Roman,” Olivia quipped with mock sarcasm, “The body of yours speaks of itself. Usually, it’s best to be humble about your achievements. We wouldn’t want to boast now would we?”

His eyes did wander occasionally around the other faces; it was good to see so many others out and about. He wasn't quite sure about this courting thing either but outwardly he didn't show it. Besides the flicker of his eyes off onto the others occasionally, he held his attention on his date. “I am surprised though, most high class ladies prefer to ask me about my finances or my family to try and gauge what kind of standing they might find with me.” a test yes but not a dangerous one. He is familiar with Charlotte so he wasn't too worried about this one but he still didn't know her or well anything about her.

Olivia smirked at him and bounced her leg under the table. His comment caught her off guard. Annoyance toward the higher class she now found herself portraying filled her mind, and she began to wonder if she had misjudged some of these nobles…

“My dear Roman, there’s more to a person than their standings and finances. You could live in solitude or marry someone you hate for the rest of your life and be miserable. You tell me which one sounds worse to you.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. ”And I’m sure the answer isn’t the second one, yeah?”

Her mention of his physique in response to his words about his job made him give a quiet laugh. Yet it did make him pause for a moment. Setting his left hand down across the table almost like he was offering it to hold, his palm facing up revealing the calluses of hard labor. “It is easy to see that I would subject myself to some sort of heavy labor given my frame and rough skin… but some of those professions require a great deal of precision and patience to deal with the finer details.” he looked up from his hand and back to her, “So yes I do enjoy boasting in good taste to gauge the reactions of those that otherwise would want nothing to do with it aside from the finished product.”

Olivia watched Roman move his hands onto the table faceup. Panic coursed through her and her cheeks flushed. Did he want her to hold his hand? Relief flooded through her when he showed her the callouses. She met his gaze and her breach hitched. A side-glance at Delilah caused the woman to mouth at her breathe. Olivia let out a slow breath. When she finally felt safe to respond, she smiled once more. ”We’ll drink to that boast. Your trade is one of harsh labor and sounds demanding, yet enjoyable. It must take a special person for it,”

“A curse of nobility as I'm sure you're well aware, sometimes we don't get to choose, sometimes it's about what the two can bring to the table. Luckily I am not such a noble.'' He paused for a moment to take a sip from a glass of water left on the table. Drinking more alcohol right now was not a good idea. “Although I am a noble, my family is rather low on the list but still respected.” Again another test to judge her reaction, common things for nobles to know as just another part of life. This one seemed to be missing some nuances of the upper class.

Olivia’s heart caught in her throat. What did she say now? Olivia fidgeted uncomfortably, and a glance from Delilah caused her to stop. ”You’re also a human being, and that in of itself is enough to give you value.” Olivia responded. Her shoulders and body language began to relax. He wasn’t haughty, nor was he condescending like most of the nobles she had met. A genuine smile began to tug at her lips.

“Still… you are correct, I would go with option one.” Relaxing into his seat, he continued, “Solitude may be preferred but no one can withstand solitude forever.” Again he paused trying to find his next words, “So tell me then, why does a noble lady ask me about being a blacksmith? Would you like some jewelry… Perhaps a ring?” the moment he said the last part he found his own face heating up slightly even at the slightest mention of marriage. Why must it always be after the words leave his mouth that he realizes the meanings one could take.

Olivia listened quietly to him speak. She blushed when he mentioned a ring. Her cheeks now rivaled her hair. She stared with shock at him and then giggled once she saw his reaction. ”Oh of course that’s why I asked, Roman.” She replied sarcastically and let out a mischievous laugh.

“I mean you’re uh, you're not wearing one that suits you…” He frowns for a moment breaking his stoicism. He was really trying to take this seriously but still found it difficult to find the right words. “Well, one that was made for you.'' He was still flustered; the giant didn't want to insult her, somehow he still felt like he was.

The comments continued, as did both of their embarrassment. Despite it, a torrent of giggles escaped her. She glanced at the waitress and signaled for her with a hand wave which caught the attention of some of the others. Then, Olivia turned back to Roman and addressed him. ”I think it would be fun to learn how to make things, really,” Olivia decided to poke the bear. ”Wouldn’t it be fun to see if we can make something that fits us both?”

She changed the subject for his sake. ”Besides blacksmithing, what else do you like to do?”

The growing amount of nervous giggles he was receiving from her made him breathe a little easier. At best it meant she wasn't taking it as an insult and was just as nervous about this as he was. It was a breath of fresh air really to find someone just as aloof in these situations as he was. Still he didn't want her to be asking all the questions for this. “Thank you for changing the subject, I don't particularly enjoy talking about politics, especially on a first date.” This time he was deliberate in trying to see if he could get her to smile or turn red again.

Olivia ceased her giggles and paid attention to Roman. ”Me either, politics are a waste of time and energy. Kinda bullshit if you ask me,” Olivia couldn’t hide the blush rising up her cheeks and glanced down at the menu once more to avert her gaze.

Glancing as she motioned for the server then back to her and her question. What could they make that would fit the both of them? His eyes once again looked over her frame this time with more purpose than just looking at curves, this time he was paying attention to her musculature. “Hmm…” he was studying her, not like one would study a problem, but like one that was taking in a piece of art. “If I were to assume, I’d say you fancy a bow? perhaps a one handed blade but not a shield? The muscles in your shoulders give you away.” Roman knew from experience that using a bow over the years was a good way to make your muscles grow differently from one another.

As Olivia studied the menu, she looked up once more. Their gazes locked, and she grinned sheepishly. ”Nothing gets past you, does it, detective?” Liv teased and set the menu down to study him in return. ”A new bow or sword, huh? Fancy.” She considered it for a moment, then continued. ”We should go hunting one day, I’d love to see what kinda weapons you create and how good they are.”

Taking a moment to glance around with a serious face, “You're not like the nobles here… I believe you're a bit more like myself. You didn't have anything given to you and had to work to get to where you are.” he smiled again, “I think that's why i'm starting to like you.”

Olivia’s body language relaxed more and she slouched in her chair. ”Sure as shit didn’t get nothing handed to me. I had to work my ass off to get myself here.” Olivia noticed Delilah glaring her way and averted her gaze. Goddamnit. This is so fucking hard. Are nobles supposed to act like robots?

Olivia sat back up and mistakenly set her elbows on the table. Another look from Delilah came her way, but she missed it this time. ”Thanks Roman, it’s a mutual feeling then isn’t it?” Olivia inquired sweetly, and struggled not to blush again.

He paused for a moment as the waitress approached, “Does the romance breakfast platter work for you? and just water for me.”

Her attention turned back to the menu. Olivia’s eyes widened as she took in the information. Everything looked so good. A rumble in her stomach filled the air and she glanced around nervously to make sure nobody looked over at her, then her attention returned to the menu.

”What the hell is hollendaisy sauce?” She arched an eyebrow as she struggled to understand the menu. ”The Romance Platter would be great. As for me, I’ll have the Chocolate - what is that word- French Toast, and the Classic Chicken and Waffles. I think the fruit juice will be fine. Thanks.” She closed the menu and turned back to Roman, and missed the exasperated glances from Delilah.

Sitting up in his chair and looking out the window for a moment at the rain outside, then back to her, Roman spoke again once the waitress left, “So things I like? Mountain climbing, cave delving, hunting, my passion is the forge.” pausing again for a moment trying to think of something witty or flirtatious to say next, “What do you enjoy doing? Other than looking beautiful at events like these?” Alright so not the most subtle but then again what about him was.

Olivia folded her hands together with her elbows on the table and then rested her chin on top of them. If looks could kill, she’d be dead from the pointed glare Delilah sent her. ”Mountain climbing huh? Do you ever go cliff diving? Super fun at Lover’s Lake.” Gratitude filled her with his compliment; however she had to poke the bear more. ”Being beautiful at only noble events? You wound me. I’m beautiful every day, Roman.”

Olivia smirked and reached across the table, and gently took his hand to measure it against her’s. ”Your hand is so much bigger than mine but we fit well don’t we?” She grinned up at him with amusement and removed her hand. ”But I do thank you, and you look handsome as well. We’re a damn good looking date aren’t we?”

With a grin, she leaned back and answered his question. ”What do I like doing? I enjoy adventuring, shooting, horseback-riding, cooking and baking, and I’ve picked up the talent of sewing and knitting. Kinda hard though when your hands are swollen from yard work.”

This one was definitely likable but something was still off, felt off. Even for him something just didn't quite feel right. From her posture to her mannerisms it felt rough, unrefined. Even the lesser ladies of court had a brisk idea of what to say and how to say it. Roman glanced over his shoulder for a moment back at the door, his eyes slowly scanning through the other faces both foreign and recognized. He did this so she wouldn't see his face as he made a split second decision, to leave, to stay and call her out, to make a scene. No. Her mask wasn't very well put together but it was there for a reason, just like his.

His gaze returned to hers with his smile only slipping for a moment, “No my lady, you look stunning all the time. But when I see you sitting here, with the rain on the window, the light hits you just right to truly show how beautiful you are.” he pondered what to say next, more flattery to see just how red her face can get. “Just like the view from the top of a mountain, the rough waves around a ship in a storm, the delicate lines on a work of art. Your beauty is vast with a hint of danger and places in your heart that are yet to be explored.”

Olivia noticed him glance over his shoulder. Her heart sank, as did her expression. She glanced at Delilah and the pout remained there long enough for her to see it. Once Roman turned back, she smiled pleasantly. ”Why thank you kind sir.” Olivia replied sweetly. She sipped her water and grinned at his words despite the hole forming in her chest.

He didn't think that he could really insult her but by the way she reacted and poked at him in return made him think that like him, compliments were hard to really accept sometimes. He felt his fingers reflexively try to hold onto her hand as she let it slip from his. Even through his blushes and smiles, behind his eyes his mind still circled back around to Violet. Forcefully pushing the thought from his mind he would enjoy the moment for what it was, making a new friend.

“Cliff diving can be fun, easy to lose your clothes, hard to find places to do that in the far north. Still, I think planning another date in the future would be fun. Perhaps a walk in the forest like you said, how about when you test out your new bow?” Of course he would need more details about what she preferred but it gave him something to work on in his off time.

”Sounds as though it’s a good time to get loosey goosey.” Olivia giggled. Her mind envisioned the moment the adventure made the headlines. What a cruel story that would be made into. She nodded eagerly at the idea of testing a new boy he’d forge out in the woods. ”That would be great!”

“So given the nature of this event, what do you desire?... What qualities are you looking for in a partner?” The large man hoped she would give an honest answer to his question and he would give one in return.

Her mind raced to the free life Kazu and her had lived previously, yet her heart ached tremendously. She wouldn’t be able to live that anymore. So what would be the next best thing?

”Well… Someone who's honest, funny, enjoys being daring yet still a gentleman….” She paused as she stared off into the distance, and a glassy look overcame her eyes. ”I love the rolling hills, the acres of land to be free, being around animals; having someone be at your side and knowing they’re your best friend and partner sounds like a nice life. Someone who likes to tend to some work, not too political, or climbing over and kicking the poor people down.”

Before he could reply, the food arrived. Olivia couldn’t help but squeal in excitement and wonder. Everything looked so delicious. Her mouth watered and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. She dug into her food quickly and nearly radiated from joy.

Her reply to his question was wholesome, somehow he was not too surprised by the answer. It made him pause to consider his own reply. Popping a bacon wrapped date into his mouth, unexpectedly it had a flavor that complimented the differences in both rather well. He returned his attention back to her to see that she was nearly lost in her food. It was adorable it gave him a memory of his youngest siblings digging into the food at their feasts.

Roman pushed his foot forward to gently nudge hers, “there is no need to rush.” speaking with a hushed but friendly tone, “savor the flavor slowly.” aware that such a comment might tip her off that he knew or assumed something about her, he decided to fake ignorance of her lack of manners. “Dishes like these are hard to come by even among the highest of nobility. so no need to rush.”

Olivia jumped when he nudged his foot into her’s, and looked up. The scenery around her dissolved back into the Blossom Cafe. She blinked and glanced down at her plate. Half the food was nearly gone. She turned her head and noticed some others had been watching her too, including Delilah and Gilbert. Her cheeks flushed and she sheepishly looked down at her plate. ”...Sorry,” she muttered, unable to meet his gaze. ”...Shit…”

Again his mind went back to his answer to the question while eating another bacon wrapped date. Honesty was what he decided to go with. “That description is noble and peaceful. You might find something like that among the young men that adorn this city.” his smile fading for a moment before he spoke again, “I myself am looking for a friend, someone I can trust, someone that can hold their own in both solitude and stressful situations, someone i can happily or at the very least be content with for the rest of my life…”

Olivia focused on slowing down reluctantly. She forced herself to meet his gaze. His answer was fair. How many nobles are lonely and unhappy even when they’re… on top of the world?

He found himself looking out the window, just staring out into the wet weather, “in truth i have plenty of things that are worth dying for… I'm looking for someone worth living for.” His voice carried something with it, something akin to a sorrowful acceptance of some far off event to come, as if he knew that death was waiting for him somewhere nearby but just far enough out of reach.

The rain seemed to mimic the sorrowful tone he soon carried. Olivia frowned and wondered what the hell happened in his life. “Oh damn, Roman. That’s… That’s quite a bit.” She paused and contemplated what else to say. ”You seem like a great guy; I’m sure you’ll find it! Even if you find something that makes you happy,that keeps you going, you’ll find it and you’re deserving of it too.”

He didn't let the feeling linger between them for long as he changed the subject again. “So why don't you tell me about your home and your family? They must be proud that you were able to make it to this courting event.” his smile returned in full force between bites of food.

Roman quickly changed the subject. Olivia blanched, as she figured this answer might come up at some point. She delayed answering by stuffing her mouth full of food. She glanced at her reflection and realized she looked like a squirrel. Olivia quickly drank water and chewed her food while her mind raced for answers. As if on cue, like magic almost, the answer came to her. Olivia could feel Delilah watching her closely. She had rehearsed this with both Delilah and Charlotte over and over.

”Well, my family is from Viermont.” Olivia explained smoothly and moved her hands to sit in her lap so she could fidget inconspicuously. “My parents are Lady Rose and Lord William Hawthorne. I’m an only child so they are very proud, yes indeed.” She picked up more food to excuse her from speaking anymore. Liv glanced at Delilah briefly for guidance, and the woman nodded kindly to her.

She glanced back at Roman and switched the subject onto him. “What about you?” She inquired and ignored her racing heart.

He continued to eat a few things off the plate he was given, it was very tasty, the deviled eggs being his favorite of the dish so far. Her words sounded well rehearsed when speaking of her family, something he remembered himself doing when first meeting new people and going to new places.

The memory made him smirk, has he really changed all that much. “That is very well rehearsed but there is no need to be nervous, I'm no prince.” a slight compliment, “My family hails from the far northern reaches of Varian in Emberstone, a city cut partially into a mountain cavern.” pausing for a moment to adjust himself in his seat, “My father Erick Ravenwood and mother Brynhilde Ravenwood live there for most of the year. I am the eldest of seventeen brothers and sisters, four of whom have unfortunately passed away.” again he paused but there wasn't the same somber in his voice like there was earlier.

At first, the smirk alarmed her - had she done or said something wrong? Quickly she was proven otherwise and thus, she relaxed. Olivia ate her food at a steadier pace, despite wanting to devour it again. She smiled kindly at him, then nearly choked on her water once he mentioned his siblings. Seventeen brothers and sisters? Her eyes widened a bit, but she steadily relaxed so it wasn’t visible. ”Wow - that’s quite a family. I bet it was a busy household. Seems nice to have others to rely on.” She commented with surprise and admiration.

“I think you would like Emberstone and the northern territories, it's a harsh and unforgiving place yet its beauty, like yours, is something you have to see to believe.” adding just a little bit of a compliment to see if she would pick up on it. His smile only grew and admittedly a little red did flash over his face.

As he mentioned her likely enjoying the place, she smiled genuinely. It sounded lovely - unlike this shithole kingdom they lived in. It seemed the people from Varian’s Kingdom were softer and kinder folks than what Sorian offered. She blushed at his words and drank water to quickly hide it. Once she regained her confidence, Olivia straightened up and leaned forward. ”I guess we’d have to put it to the test one day then wouldn’t we?” Olivia purred and leaned back in her seat with a mischievous giggle

He found his food quickly finished through their conversation, a good lunch spent with good company. Given Olivia’s reaction to his brief description of his home he decided to give her a little more. “Our home is beautiful, families will always have more children as long as we have the food. Thanks to the crown we will always have food. The reason why we have larger families is because it's much easier to die.'' He knew it was a darker subject but just by the way she looked at him he could tell there was strength behind her eyes. This one wasn't some dotted upon noble that was naïve to the realities of this world.

Olivia listened intently to Roman while she finished her food. Her eyes remained attentive, and she couldn’t help but begin to fidget. It wasn’t that she was bored, but the conversation took a dark turn and she wasn’t sure what to say. More ways to die? Olivia wondered what the hell happened in Varian’s Kingdom.

“Though there is still strife anywhere you go at least here the weather is unlikely to kill you or a wandering animal.” pausing to take another drink of his water, “we have to rely on one another, especially when the long nights set in, when we lose the warmth of the sun for months. Everyone works, and after you reach adulthood it is rare to have anything given freely, other than stories and laughs.”

Her attention was captured now and she didn’t take her eyes off Roman. Harsh weather and wandering animals? Was the Varian Kingdom a hostile country? It seemed so unfamiliar to her. She was astounded by his words, and it was quite a surprise.

Roman readjusted himself and he continued. “For us everything is earned regardless of your birth. Being able to build your reputation like that brings us closer together in shared suffering, we shoulder the burden together. No one gets left behind."

Olivia watched him speak and was silent for a few minutes. This was a heartfelt statement. Nobody gets left behind. Her heart ached with those words. She had been left behind; and fortunately, she’d found refuge with the Vikena’s and Kazumin. She glanced down at her hands and was quiet. When she finally spoke, her voice was smooth. ”Well, Roman, that sounds like quite the lifestyle. Thanks for sharing it with me and I am glad you have your family to comfort you and stick together. It sounds lovely that you all have each other,” Olivia replied and smiled genuinely.

He knew it didn't always make sense, how they lived their lives but it made them strong and united almost to the point of being zealots. Some would even whisper that they brainwashed their citizens to achieve this semblance of peace and community, fewer still would spread rumors that something darker was at play for the northern Varian people to be how they are. It always seemed a little off or too good to be true.

”It sounds quite different from Caesonia’s lifestyle, but more of a community than this kingdom. It’s been great getting to know you and I am happy to hang with you in the future too.”

Her words made him smile. He wouldn't mind this conversation lasting longer but time did seem to be running out. Before they began to part ways he supposed he could clear something up for her, “oh I don't mean to miss lead you but there are still several places in Varian that are like this city. What I have been talking about is just my home in the northern territories.” Roman found himself fidgeting for a moment, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle fingers.

“Thank you for chatting with me today. It's always nice to slow down and just enjoy the moment from time to time.” he paused for a moment to glance around at the others in the restaurant. There were a few empty tables where others had been earlier, he did miss opportunities like these to just talk and let time pass. “I suppose it is getting to the end of our little lunch date, I did enjoy talking to you Olivia and I do hope we are able to do it again soon.” he spoke with his same smile and stood up from the table taking a moment to readjust his sling.

[Apex Sunburn]

Time: Morning
Location: The Church >> Royal Curd
Interactions:
Mentions: @Princess Charlotte
Attire:

Hider

(Placeholder until I get a better reference image)
Roughspun, blue trousers
A shoulder belt and waist belt carrying his equipment
Two swords and two pistols, one on either side
A woven, conical hat wide enough to shade his entire face (in his hands)

“Hey King! We’re here for the cheese!”

Sjan-dehk didn’t know what this ‘cheese’ was, and he didn’t understand why anyone would be seeking it in a temple, but he did have a very, very good feeling that the tone of those words wasn’t the sort one should be using with a King. Or anyone of any rank, for that matter. Formality wasn’t something Sjan-dehk held in high regard – he disliked it, to be perfectly honest – but even so, he thought that whoever had spoken had been somewhat rude.

And from what Sjan-dehk knew, to be rude to a vain man – let alone a King – was to be in danger.

He snapped his gaze over to the King, the latter seated high upon his throne. Iyen squeezed closer as the jostling crowd filled the temple, and he was forced to look away when the two of them helped an aged lady to a seat. Well, Iyen did most of the actual assisting; Sjan-dehk merely looked fierce to clear the way. The grey-haired woman thanked both of them. Iyen listened, and despite not understanding a word, responded with a smile. Sjan-dehk mirrored her. And then, he looked back at the King, and his smile vanished.

As much as he understood that gestures could have many meanings, Sjan-dehk couldn’t for the life of him think of an interpretation for a hand drawn across a neck that wasn’t bloody. Was this King seriously going to have someone imprisoned or killed for impertinence? Of course, rudeness in such a setting deserved a punishment of some sort, but either of those options seemed rather extreme. Sjan-dehk would have been satisfied with a fine or a literal slap-on-the-wrist. He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. Perhaps this was just another misunderstanding, and he was simply being an idiot, but a not-so-quiet part of him didn’t put such unfair and drastic measures past the King.

He surreptitiously dropped a hand to the grip of one of his swords.

But despite his best efforts at stealth, his little action didn’t escape Iyen’s notice. She quickly wrapped her slender fingers tightly around his arm and fixed him with an alarmed glare. “What’re you doing?” Her voice was a quiet hiss, and held as much reproach as her disapproving frown. She glanced at her own arms, at her waist. “Without me?”

Sjan-dehk could have chuckled, had he any idea as to what he intended to do. Did he really want to start a fight here? Presumably against the King’s guards? Or did he hope to simply send a strong message? And for what purpose? To stop the King from meting out his justice in his own lands? That didn’t seem right, as wrong as it felt in this case. Sjan-dehk swallowed and chewed on his lip. Maybe this was why Lady Adiyan wanted him to be here. To learn and to get used to how the Caesonians did things.

Or maybe, as it turned out, Sjan-dehk was simply being an idiot. The gesture had been nothing more than the King ordering his guards to shut the temple’s doors. Red-faced and feeling as if he had just turned his ship against the wind, Sjan-dehk let go of his sword. “Nothing,” he replied to Iyen. “I’m not doing…Well, I’m not planning on doing anything. Just thinking that you might be right. My mind is sea-addled.”

Iyen said nothing. Instead, she touched Sjan-dehk’s neck with the back of her hand. Sjan-dehk glanced at her, amused. “Guess it’s my turn to ask. What’re you doing?”

“Flushed cheeks and agreeing that I’m right?” Iyen placed her other hand on her forehead. “I’m checking if you’ve a fever.”

This time, Sjan-dehk chuckled and gently pulled her hand away from him. Iyen gave him a smile, and they returned their attention to the ceremony. Not that there was much left for them to observe; aside from what Sjan-dehk could only assume to be a mishap with the King’s painting – as far as he could tell, there wasn’t anything wrong with it, but everyone else had reacted as if it were otherwise – the rest of it passed as little more than a blur. Before long, Sjan-dehk and Iyen were back out on the street with everyone else, golden ticket in hand and destination unknown. With no better idea, they simply followed the crowd.

“That was…Quick,” Iyen remarked.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Sjan-dehk said. “Thought you disliked these things, too. Don’t tell me all we’ve been through together was nothing more than a lie.”

Iyen rolled her eyes. “Oh, Sjan-dehk, you caught me in my elaborate plot to get closer to your sister–”

“Stop it,” Sjan-dehk interrupted quickly. “But I see your point. Feels like they rushed things at the end.”

“Think the painting had anything to do with it?” Iyen asked. She sidestepped to avoid a child, and in doing so ended up pressing herself against Sjan-dehk’s side. A wide, cheeky grin spread across his face, and he looked down at her.

“Sure it’s my sister you’re interested in?” He teased. Iyen looked at him with mock disgust and took a step away from him. He quickly returned to the topic of their conversation with a shrug. “Don’t know. Maybe, I’d say. Not sure what was wrong with it, though. The finishing touches looked a little rough, but I wouldn’t get upset over that.” A frown flashed across his face as he considered the possibilities. Maybe the style was a touch too progressive for the crowd? “Did you see the King, though? He looked fucking pissed.”

“He handled it well, though,” Iyen pointed out. “That, and the interruption that you were about to turn into a full fucking fight. I’ve to congratulate you for restraining yourself, by the way.”

The memory of that moment brought another flush to Sjan-dehk’s face. “How was I supposed to know that that gesture didn’t mean that he was ordering a beheading?” He protested, then cleared his throat. “You’re right, though. The King showed some temperance. Maybe he’s not as bad as we thought.”

“Maybe he’s just acting,” Iyen suggested. “Y’know, he’s so vain that he wants to look good for the crowd.”

Sjan-dehk nodded slowly. That was indeed a possibility; he didn’t put it past the King – or any ruler, for that matter – to put on an act for the sake of placating the populace. He wouldn’t be the first, that much was for certain. And the more Sjan-dehk thought about it, the more likely that possibility seemed. For one, a truly benevolent King wouldn’t have slammed the temple’s doors shut on the crowd when there was still space for standing inside. Sjan-dehk was still thinking of a second reason when he entered – or more accurately, was guided by the throng of people – into the building. On instinct, he took off his hat and tucked it under his arm.

The first – and really, only – thing he noticed was just how yellow everything was. The walls; the floor; the ceiling; the furnishings; the water, even the very clothes of the cheery lady who took his and Iyen’s tickets, all were in a shade of yellow or other. It felt almost excessive, and considering that yellow was one of the Commonwealth’s colours, that was saying something, coming from Sjan-dehk. The place felt strange, like it was a…

“Is this ‘cheese’ thing a cult?” Iyen asked, giving voice to Sjan-dehk’s thoughts. “Because right now, it feels like one. That woman talked about ‘cheese’ too, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Sjan-dehk said as he caught the familiar whiff of cooking in the air. “Think this is a sort of restaurant? Food’s involved in some way, that’s my guess.”

“So it’s a cult to food,” Iyen drolled. Sjan-dehk tapped her on the shoulder to shush her and led the way to a large room on the left. It was where everyone else was going, anyway. A thousand thoughts rushed into his head, but he pushed them all aside. There would be time later for him to carefully sift through whatever he observed. For now, he just wanted to find a quiet seat away from everyone else. He did, however, give the pale girl from the other day – her name escaped him – a wave and a smile as he passed her table. As usual, Iyen took note of that quick, minute action.

“She’s cute,” she quipped as she took her seat, a wide grin on her face. “The girl you waved to, I mean.”

Sjan-dehk let out a sigh and sat down. “Oh, don’t you start.”

“What? I’m just saying she’s cute,” Iyen replied, her grin turning into a smirk.

“Your words say that you’re just saying that,” Sjan-dehk said. “Your smile tells me that you’re going to ask me about getting to know her better. I can’t help with that, I’m afraid. I’ve only spoken to her once, and that was days ago.”

“You’re no fun,” Iyen said and pouted. Folding her arms, she continued, “But you know me. It’s your sis–”

Once again, Sjan-dehk interrupted before she could finish. “Stop it,” he said curtly, then turned in his seat to look over the room. "We're here to work, so take note of anything interesting, or anything worth knowing." The room was quickly filling with people, few of whom he could recognise. In fact, apart from the pale girl, he couldn’t say he knew anyone. Not that mattered. He wasn’t here to mingle; he was here to simply observe and learn.

[princess]

Gilbert & Delilah

Interactions:@Potter Olivia @Samreaper Kazumin

---

Delilah and Gilbert sat at a table rather nearby Olivia, strategically positioned so they were in her line of sight. Delilah's eyes sparkled with delight as she dipped a piece of brioche French toast into the bubbling pot of rich, velvety chocolate fondue they had ordered.

Beside her, Gilbert grumbled under his breath about the fuss but couldn't help but indulge. “It’s not better than the French toast I make.”

She nudged a plate of fresh strawberries and marshmallows towards him, her smile wide and encouraging. Despite his usual gruff demeanor, his eyes softened. "Slow down. You're going to give yourself a stomachache with all that sweetness," he cautioned.

“Your French toast is the best, Gilbert, but this is hitting the spo-Oh the skies above… Gilbert.”

“What.”

“Hunk alert. Hunk alert. Look who’s coming towards our Olivia.”

Gilbert's gaze shifted, and he couldn't help but notice the imposing figure of Roman as he sat down with Olivia. A flicker of something unidentifiable passed through his eyes as his gaze returned hastily to Delilah.

"He's that blacksmith from the Varian Kingdom," he replied, stabbing a piece of French toast with more force than necessary. "Nothing special."

"Oh, he’s something special alright. That’s a man right there. A man."

As they watched Olivia closely, her stutter and the way she clenched her fists around the menu didn't go unnoticed by Delilah. When Olivia glanced toward their table, Delilah offered her an encouraging smile and gave a small nod, while Gilbert grumbled under his breath, "Girl’s nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

“Think I heard him mention our Lottie’s name…” She leaned on one hand and twirled a strawberry on her fork in the air as she mused softly, "Where was she hiding this absolute God of a man?”

Gilbert folded his arms and asked, “So what’s happening now?”

“She’s bouncing her leg under the table… They’re talking… He’s laughing.”

“I heard the laugh.” Gilbert confirmed lowly.

“He’s showing her his palm and she’s totally freaking out.” Delilah informed Gilbert with a frown. Discreetly, she mouthed the word “breathe” to the girl.

“Why did that make her panic?”

“He must have offered to hold hands or something romantic.” Delilah smiled and finally bit into her strawberry.

Gilbert’s gaze lowered from her hand and down to his. All the while Delilah had been watching the conversation for the next few moments he had been watching her.

“She’s fidgeting again.” Delilah sighed and gave Olivia a warning glance.

“It’s as if I am Emina chastising little Lottie. What a dreadful position I have to be in… Alas, it’s important she fits in with them.” She looked at Gilbert again and smiled once more, “I surely could never pull it off… Could you?”

“Absolutely.” He told her gruffly with certainty. “I was raised a gentleman.”

She giggled and lightly touched his arm, “That sentence will come back to haunt you next time you shout at me to get out of the kitchen!” He audibly groaned with regret.

“She’s now giggling like a schoolgirl.” Gilbert commented with some judgment and an eyeroll.

“That’s a good sign.” Delilah said, “That means things are going well.”

“It’s unbecoming of a lady. Even I know that,” Gilbert grumbled.

“Oh? Well, you certainly don’t seem to mind when I giggle,” Delilah replied with a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Gilbert's cheeks flushed a deep red, and he looked away, grumbling under his breath. "That's not true," he muttered, clearly flustered. "I don't fancy it at all." He avoided her gaze, focusing intently on his plate, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he was fighting a smile.

“Slouching.” Delilah suddenly reported, straightening up to get a better view as she gave Olivia a warning glare, “And… Elbows on the table.”

She sighed. “She’s doing it again. We have a lot of work to do. Oi!”

Delilah watched the next few moments with a growing somberness. “Don’t think it’s a match.” She perked up and tapped Gilbert’s hand, “Good practice for her though, right?”

Gilbert looked over his shoulder and caught sight of Olivia stuffing her face like she had been starved, which was not the case. He had been feeding the girl very well.

“Uh.”

“Dear Gods. She looks like a chipmunk.”

Soon enough, Gilbert alerted her to something more pressing, leaning in to say, “He just asked her about her home and family.”

“Oh no.” Delilah watched closely and focused intently on listening. She relaxed visibly as Olivia nailed it and gave her a kind nod.

“...How do you think Lottie’s doing?”

Her eyes fell on the chef with some surprise and she watched the worry swim in his eyes. “I don’t know. She still won’t tell me what happened last night… But I know something did… She did seem rather happy to spend some time with Duke Vikena at least.”

“...Is she safe…?” Gilbert's voice was tinged with concern.

Delilah held his gaze and asked, “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“I’ve been here as long as you have, Lilah, and if there’s anything I know better than cooking… It’s that you know when she isn’t safe, and you behave in a manner that always clues me in that she isn’t either.” Gilbert's eyes bore into hers.

Her gaze lowered and she said softly after a pause, “She will never be safe, Gilbert.”

His brows lifted in surprise.

“I don’t mean to be annoyingly vague… But I know you know more than you let on… I will inform you of more in a more private setting. I promise.”

Gilbert’s lips parted to reply, but Delilah was quick to speak. “Look. There’s Kazumin.” She rose from her seat to wave over the blonde before he could protest. “Hi sweetie! Remember me! …Want some toast?!”

“Oh Gods, why did you call that boy over?”

“Oh don’t be coy, Gilbert. I know you love the way he eats up every bit of your food… And Olivia’s about done with her date, so I am sure she’d appreciate seeing her friend. If they both come over, we’ll give them space to catch up, okay?”

[Conscripts]

John & Zarai

---

"Oh!" Zarai exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she finally connected John's face to his name. "Doctor Williamson, not gloomy enough to keep us from some delicious food, I hope." A mixture of subtle disappointment and relief washed over her as she observed the doctor taking his seat. Part of her was glad it wasn't some rich lord, while the other part wished it had been. Nevertheless, she was content with John's company. He was polite and had enough interesting things to say to fill their morning with doctorly information and pancakes. However, she hoped this doctor was not one to indulge in the gossip that often plagued Varian's social circles.
Zarai picked up the menu and began to browse it casually as if she hadn’t already memorized her order from years of yearning to dine at the Blossom. Two scrambled eggs with salt and pepper, a slice of ham cooked to perfection with a bit of hot sauce, coffee, and of course, a stack of mouth-wateringly buttery pancakes. “Shall we order first, then get down to the details of this mixer?” Her stomach growled in agreement.
”Hunger needs a pat on the tummy, I agree.” John obliged. He took off his coat and neatly wrapped it around his chair before sitting down. For John, some cottage cheese and strawberry pancake was the new fancy meal, followed by a pristine, precisely baked molten chocolate cake, cooled off by good reliable green tea. ”Whenever you are ready.” He closed off the menu, waiting for Zarai then gestured for the waitress.

Once that was done, the details of this mixer…

”I have to say, I’ve been to two coupled events, and both have been randomized. If I bet a coin on it, I’d have two, which isn’t much, but something tells me the Sorians really like this.”

Zarai motioned the waitress over, then turned back to John, “You could buy some candy with that! Perhaps Sorians aren’t keen on mingling on their own, so they need the extra help?” Zarai shrugged. “There aren’t many of these kinds of events back in Varian,” or she had never been invited to them, not that it would surprise her anyway. Not many invitations came in her name since the rumors began back home.

“So, Doctor, are you looking for a wife?” She grinned, leaning in closer and propping her chin on her hand. “Do tell what you look for in a woman!”

That was quite a pointed question.

”Well yes.” He raised an eyebrow. Technically it is true. Just not as actively as Zarai might have imagined.

”Eh, the typical stuff, like kindness and loyalty. I’m certain that you would expect that out of a man too.” He shrugged, looking out the windows thoughtfully. ”But there is something different I would love to see: chattiness.”

”This isn’t really wife or husband specific, but would you like someone who can just make you laugh and keep you engaged? And imagine you living with them for the next five decades or more. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“Doctor Williamson!” Zarai gasped, looking around them as if he had said something scandalous. “I didn’t know you were a romantic.” She teased with a grin. She tapped her finger on her chin trying to imagine just that. Lady Zarai and Doctor Williamson talking and laughing over some tea and scones. Lady Zarai and Doctor Williamson talking and laughing while he’s discovering some medical breakthroughs. Lady Zarai and Doctor Williamson talking and laughing over her mother’s nicely polished grave. Lady Zarai and Doctor Williamson talking and laughing. “Yes, I do agree. It would be lovely.”

“But– wouldn’t you grow tired of it?” Zarai asked, tilting her head to one side. “At some point, most people grow tired of one another. Then what would you do then? I suppose you could take a break, have some time apart. Move out of your bedroom and across the estate to be closer to your office and ignore his existence for the next five years.” She shrugged and waved her hand, dismissing that thought before moving on. “I am a bit surprised that you’ve not mentioned any other more… materialistic requirements.”

John thought it was a little bleak of an outlook.

“I…don’t think that’s the case? What makes you think people grow tired of one another after a while?”

John had worked with people from different walks of life, from the highest of nobles to the poorest who clawed at the dirt. The types who grew tired of their spouses, or even family members, are also the ones who got too obsessed with love and tied their entire identity to becoming someone’s lover. The more they do, the faster the process moves.

“I’m also not sure of any materialistic requirements I would want.” John laid his cheek on his hand looking up and back at Zarai. He sounded genuine, and he was. What could possibly be a good materialistic requirement? He’s a scientist and doctor, so he’s definitely not starving for money. He doesn’t ask for noble titles or anything. If anything, getting that Duke or Viscount title was more dirty and he tended to get screwed over by royal politics.

“Well…” Zarai paused, unsure if she should continue. Her mother and father came to mind. There had been dinners and parties where she’d seen them together, but it always felt forced. Ever since she could recall, they slept in separate wings of the estate. “It’s what I’ve heard.” She settled with that, her shoulder rising and falling with effortless grace.

She studied him, eyes scanning the clothes he wore and the expression he presented. She was unsure if he was telling her the truth or not because that coat said otherwise, but perhaps that was just a fashion statement. One Zarai considered him brave and bold. ”You’re a doctor. Would you not like to have the latest medical instruments or the necessary funds for your research? What is it that you practice, anyway? What do you say… field of expertise?”

”I started out as an apprentice, then became a general physician, or family doctor as the layman says. Then as epidemics happen like having cornbread for meals, I went into epidemiology, later expanding to public health as it’s closely related. So you can say I fell into my career as a doctor.” John replied. There’s also magic studies, but no need to get ahead of himself. ”As for funds, I guess instruments are nice and all, but I don’t want to feel owed, or worse.”

When the two party’s interests don’t line up, it’s fair to say that the partnership isn’t going to work out really well. Especially when one of the party’s interests (most often the scientist’s side) was to expose the wrongdoings of the other. Sure, the Varian monarchs and government sometimes weren’t good with their transparency either, but at least they had some rights to speak up, and they often left the scientists alone otherwise. Not a potentially unhinged noble who is drunk on delusions of power.

”Anyway, if by materials you mean power and wealth, I’m pretty sure I have enough. And more of that isn’t going to make me happier...” He cupped his hand together on the table, laying it on the table. ”I hope that satisfies your curiosity. How about you? What do you, what’s the word, do as heir of Puerto Vira? Now that I think about it, where is it exactly off the coast?”

She found his lack of desire for material possessions and social status admirable. It was a refreshing change from the men she usually encountered, who seemed to be obsessed with acquiring wealth and power. Or was it his honesty to admit his lack of interest that she found so appealing?

Zarai looked at his hands, examining them for a bit while she tried to form an answer to his question. What do I do? “I plan charity events and dinner parties and help Mother run the estate. Things every lady should know.” But that hadn’t answered his question. Any lady of her standing could arrange a seating chart and make meal plans.

”Hmm.” He didn’t want to say much further. He had a feeling it was kind of a non-job, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable about it.

“It’s in the most southern peninsula of Varian, built on the slopes of the hills there. It overlooks the sea and the sunsets are the loveliest.” If you stayed away from the docks and slums. The smell down there was horrid, the infrastructure there hadn’t been properly maintained and all the upper city waste accumulated in the slums and docks. During the summers, Zarai could smell the slums from their estate in the upper city. ”You mentioned epidemics. From your studies and experiences, what is the main cause of them?”

He held himself back from blurting out the obvious response: sanitation. This was actually a really good opportunity to check if Zarai knows things and her values.

”That’s something I’d like to know from your perspective too, as an heir to Puerto Vira.” He stood his hand on his elbows, and rested his chin on it. ”Don’t worry, I will give my answer right after. I just want to gauge the public’s knowledge.”

There are several good answers here, and several bad ones.
Zarai blinked, her brows furrowing slightly. She had intended to educate herself, but it seemed like he wanted to test her. “Cleanliness,” she answered after a moment’s pause. “At least, that’s the main cause, right? Both individual and environmental hygiene?” She tapped her index finger thoughtfully on her chin.“I’ve also heard that some pests can carry diseases, and those in more unfortunate circumstances might be more prone to encountering them.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Then there are those who say it’s the gods or evil spirits punishing the sinful, but that’s just nonsense. ” She rolled her eyes, clearly skeptical of such beliefs.
”Did I get it right?”
”Very much so.” He replied. ”That is the biological and economical side of it. There’s also the political view, in that the main cause of epidemics are inactions. People who thinks like that…the evil spirits one, I mean…You seem to be above that though.”

He leaned forward a little, his smile inched closer to Zarai’s. His cheek sank into his hand.

”If only you were there in the north that day…”

His life wouldn’t have been cut short…

“They are afraid to face the fact that their lack of action has resulted in such a loss of life that blaming it on mysticism is easier to face.” Zarai could see her mother and Sir Barrios talking just outside one of the windows. “I do thank you for noticing, however.” She was about to ask about the long-term effects of such epidemics when his expression made her stop before she could fully form the sentence in her mind.

“You’ve seen– No. You’ve lived it before.”

The good doctor gazed into Zarai’s eyes. It looked like an abyss was staring back at her. That was his answer.

[FunnyGuy]

Time: Morning
Location: Public bench with a view of the Royal Curd
Attire: Alexander’s attire
Interaction:
Mention: @Helo Callum Danrose, @Silverpaw Wulfric Danrose, @TpartywithZombi Violet Damien, @princess Charlotte Vikena, Marek Delronzo, Count Calbert, King Edin, and a Countess

---

Alexander Deacon seated himself rather comfortably on a bench with a view of the Royal Curd’s grand opening from a distance that kept gathering the grossest of details. Fortunately, the man was only spying for the highlights of the comings and goings of the new establishment. More specifically, the status of his impoverished associates’ entry. He now grasped a newly purchased umbrella in hand to avoid spotty drizzles of rain that had come on later in the morning. In his other hand was half a loaf of freshly baked bread. Food like this did nothing to satiate him but he would never rid himself of tasting even the simple things he once hungered for. As long as he still had the choice, he would choose bread over blood. He raised the loaf to his mouth to take a bite but suddenly looked toward the large tree beside the bench.

“Hmm, I guess you’re proof I might not need the umbrella… but I don’t quite trust the branches and leaves to keep me dry.” Alexander shrugged, lowering the loaf to his lap and returning his gaze to the Royal Curd.

“Today has been quite interesting, let me tell you.” Alexander glanced at the tree with a smirk. He figured he could have fun while playing stakeout in the rain. “Not as interesting as last night with Lady Violet and stable boy Darryn… at least not yet. Do you know that she’s still missing?” Alexander took a small bite of his loaf. “Mmm… I had nothing to do with her not returning by the way. I don’t need you spreading rumors to others, especially to Marek,” He sighed and shook his head thinking about what the young woman could be doing.

“Her extended absence isn’t all bad, however. For one, we are not charged with keeping her from her home, and two, the goal was to make her father squirm. If squirms longer than planned, that’s even better. A win-win… plus one. A win-win plus one. Sounds good huh?” Alexander chuckled like a fool. It was a good thing the dreary weather kept most inside, leaving the man talking at a tree with no witness to what might be perceived as madness. “You lack optimism… but it makes sense considering your position.” Alexander frowned. “But if she does not turn up in a few days, I will personally go searching myself. And a few days is fine. She just fed, so it’ll be several weeks until she needs to sink her teeth into something.” Alexander squinted his eyes and leaned forward as he focused his sights on the Royal Curd.

“Look at that, my tattered-clothed associates are making their way into the restaurant. Another win… Then again. It was either this or King Danrose further ruins rapport with the impoverished community within Sorian… Right, the latter would have been more promising. Prince Callum, the hero, presents an opportunity to the peasants only for his father, the villain, to smother that opportunity. The prince looks good either way, but perhaps this shows that he is capable of influencing his father to favor peasants. More trust toward Callum.”

“I do wonder if we should consider Prince Wulfric more. He’s the crowned prince, seems capable, smart, and… I guess he would be difficult to manipulate. Perhaps it is something to be discussed during the next meeting with Marek. He knows the board of the game we play better than anyone.”

“Speaking of which… The next move in our game is the Countess… and Charlotte?”

“Leave Lady Vikena to me.” The cold tone emitted from behind the tree quite forcefully this time.

“Sure, Marciano… but no promises. She is an interesting one after all.” Alexander smiled as he took another bite out of the loaf only to grimace slightly. It had lost much of its warmth thanks to his colleague of the Black Rose showing up.

[princess]

Time: Morning
Location: Church of Sorian → The Royal Curd
Mentions: @TpartywithZombi Ariella @Helo Callum @PapaOso Milo

---

King Edin paced furiously back and forth in the grand hall of the church, his face flushed with anger. The service had long concluded and the painting was revealed before the group of people huddled around it.

"How could this have happened?" King Edin bellowed, turning to his staff with a look of confusion and fury. "This church was supposed to be locked last night!"

A member of the church staff, a young man with a nervous expression, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I... I forgot to lock up last night. I am so sorry."

King Edin's face turned a deeper shade of red. "You forgot to lock up? This is unacceptable! …You’re a buffoon!" He took a deep breath, trying to control his temper, but his voice still trembled with rage. "This painting is ruined because of your negligence. " He ran his hands through his hair and glared at the man, “This was painted by the Milo St. Claire!”

As he spoke, one of the staff members pointed to the floor near the painting. "Your Majesty, look. There’s a footprint here, faint but visible. It looks like someone stepped in the paint."

King Edin's eyes followed the direction of the pointed finger, and sure enough, there was a faint footprint in the paint. His mind began to churn, recalling a recent conversation with Duchess Victoria Edwards. Her voice filled his head:

"...and then, Your Majesty, he deliberately untied his shoes and removed his socks, right in the presence of ladies and gentlemen! He left his shoes and socks near me as if he were at some uncivilized gathering of homeless people..."

The king's thoughts turned to his youngest son, Callum, who was often the scapegoat for such incidents. "Callum," he muttered under his breath venomously, his anger building again. It was as if the very name was poison itself. "I'm going to wring his neck! Always, always him! It’s ALWAYS HIM!!"

The staff member gently placed a hand on King Edin's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "Your Majesty, perhaps we should have Prince Callum step in the paint... If his footprint matches, we will know for sure."

King Edin paused, his mind drifting back to the conversation with Victoria Edwards. He took a deep breath, his anger slowly giving way to a more thoughtful expression. "Yes," he said, nodding slowly. "...I'd like to be here tonight…. Bring Prince Callum Danrose… and Lady Ariella Edwards to the church. And bring a tin of paint. Have the Duke and Duchess attend as well."

“And if neither match?”

“Then we’ll have the whole damn kingdom come step in that fucking paint until I find that vile rat and exterminate it. “

The staff members nodded and hurried to carry out his orders. As they left, King Edin stood before the defaced painting, his mind still echoing with Duchess Victoria's words.

---

Thirty minutes later, King Edin arrived at the Royal Curd in a grand, dramatic fashion. The double doors swung open to reveal the king in his luxurious attire and crowned with an air of authority. He kept his head high, looking at no one as he made his way through the room, exuding a commanding presence that silenced the whispers and turned all eyes towards him as his knights in golden armor followed, the sound of the heavy footsteps audible.

As he approached the throne, a servant stepped forward, raising a trombone to their lips. The notes of a fanfare filled the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

"Hear ye, hear ye!" the announcer called out, his voice booming over the assembled guests. "Meet and greets with His Majesty, King Edin Danrose, will commence."

King Edin sat in his throne, his eyes fixed straight ahead. As the murmurs resumed, he finally allowed himself to survey the room, the weight of the earlier incident at the church still lingering in his mind.

A waitress moved to take his order immediately, her hands trembling slightly as she approached the king. She handed him the menu and King Edin's eyes flicked to her for a moment, cold and intense, before he looked down at the menu.

He pointed at the appetizer of choice with an intense finger jab onto the menu. The sharp movement made the waitress flinch, her face paling as she quickly nodded.

Without another word, she turned and hurried away, her steps quick and nervous. The king watched her go, his expression unchanging.

[Tae]

Time: Late Morning
Location: Royal Curd
Interactions:
Aesthetic: Outfit

---

Kalliope groaned as she slowly woke up, her body protesting with every movement. The previous night’s exertions had left her muscles sore and her mood foul. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she reluctantly sat up, her joints creaking in complaint.

"Damn gang members," she muttered to herself. "Of all the ways to spend a night." But she did have to admit that the company she had in dealing with the issue was quite pleasant. The thought of the captain actually had a genuine smile crossing her lips briefly.

Grumbling, she forced herself out of bed and glanced at her desk. A piece of paper caught her eye, advertising the church event followed by the grand opening of the Royal Curd. She sneered in disgust at the thought of attending church. "Ew. Absolutely not," she scoffed. But the idea of witnessing the ridiculousness of the Royal Curd did bring a faint smirk to her lips. It might at least prove to be entertaining.

Resigned to facing the day, Kalliope got ready, choosing an outfit suitable for the slightly rainy weather outside. She pulled on a dark cloak with a hood, sturdy boots, and armed herself with a few concealed blades, out of habit and caution.

Stepping outside, she made her way through the bustling streets of Sorian, her mood gradually improving as she anticipated the spectacle awaiting her. The rain was light, more of a persistent drizzle, but it didn't bother her. She arrived at the Royal Curd, a grand and ostentatious establishment in the fine dining district.

The interior was even more extravagant than she had expected. Everything was gilded in gold or some shade of yellow, creating an almost blinding effect. Portraits of King Edin holding cheese were plastered all over the walls. The centerpiece was a grand hall with a fountain spewing yellow water. Kalliope rolled her eyes in disbelief at the over-the-top opulence of it all. Whoever decided on the golden shower fountain should be shot….or maybe praised and given a raise. She thought to herself as she realized the subtle insulting humor of it all.

As she entered, she was greeted by a beautiful waitress dressed in a vibrant yellow gown.

"Welcome to The Royal Curd! We are delighted to have you here. If you possess a ticket bestowed by King Edin himself, you are cordially invited to enter our grand event free of charge. For those without a royal ticket, the entry fee is two hundred gold.”

Like hell she was going to give 200 gold back to Edin. If she could screw him out of more gold, then she absolutely was going to. So Kalliope put on a show of searching her pockets, making a small scene as she stepped aside. "Oh, I must have misplaced it. I'm so sorry, please go ahead," she said, waving other guests past her with exaggerated apologies. In the slight chaos she caused, she silently swiped an already used ticket from a distracted waiter and presented it to the waitress.

"Found it! My apologies for the delay," she said, smiling sweetly.

"Cheesetastic! Welcome to The Royal Curd! Please come right in and take a left toward the event room. You will find King Edin seated at the grandest table, adorned with a majestic throne against the far wall. Velvet ropes will guide you to his table, as for this special event, King Edin is graciously allowing guests to have private audiences with him! Imagine the thrill of conversing with our revered king one on one! How exciting!"

Kalliope smiled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Been there, done that, don't care to do it again, but know I'm going to have to," she said smoothly before walking away towards the event room.

As she entered, she scanned the room for familiar faces, taking in the lavish decorations and the spectacle around her. She kept her eyes sharp and her senses alert, ready for whatever the day might bring.

[princess]

King Edin’s Meet and Greets

_{Mentions: @TpartywithZombi Violet, Ariella @PapaOso Cassius @Helo Callum @Silverpaw Wulfric}

Meet and Greet 1

King Edin and Count Calbert

Count Calbert Damien was the first to take a seat before King Edin, a clear agenda on his mind. His steps were deliberate as he navigated through the throngs of guests, standing out in his blue suit.

As he approached King Edin, who was still seated on his throne, Calbert caught the eye of the royal attendant. With a subtle nod, he signaled his desire for a private audience with the king. The attendant, recognizing the count's status, quickly whispered to King Edin, who gave a slight nod of approval.

Calbert stepped forward, his face adorned with a practiced smile. He bowed deeply before the king. "Your Majesty, it is an honor as always." he began smoothly.

King Edin nodded, allowing a small smile to touch his lips. "Count Damien, rise and take a seat."

Calbert straightened up, his eyes gleaming."Your Majesty, I come to discuss several important matters. But first, allow me to commend you on the grandeur of this event. It is truly a spectacle of magnificence. The ceremony was nothing short of extraordinary, and it is clear that your reign is a blessing to us all. Your generosity to feed so many of us after blessing us under a morning under the Gods’ gazes is not overlooked. "

King Edin's smile widened. "You are too kind, Count Calbert. It is always a pleasure to witness my efforts recognized with such appreciation. I labor tirelessly for this kingdom and deserve every commendation bestowed upon me. Truly, where would the kingdom be without my wise and benevolent guidance?” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, “ So many would find themselves hopelessly adrift without my steady hand to lead them."

Calbert leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, "And that painting, what an abomination it was to see it defaced. Such disrespect to a symbol of your greatness is utterly dreadful. It is fortunate that we have a ruler as wise and composed as yourself to handle such affronts."

Edin's eyes darkened momentarily at the mention of the painting, but Calbert's words quickly soothed him. “Indeed, it was a disgrace. But rest assured, those responsible will be found and dealt with accordingly."

"Of course, Your Majesty. If there is anything I can do to assist, please do not fail to enlighten me.“

“It will be dealt with.” King Edin said simply, his attention turning downward as a waitress set his appetizer in front of him. He was staring straight at a creation of his face made of cheese, eyes made of olives staring back at him.

"...Your Majesty, if I may," Calbert began, his tone shifting to one of grave concern, "I must discuss the distressing situation regarding my missing daughter, Violet. She has been missing since last night and I fear for her safety. I request additional men and resources for a more extensive search. This matter requires the utmost priority. My family has been targeted consistently, and we need increased protection to prevent any further incidents."

King Edin’s eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into him as he intensely placed a forkful of cheese into his mouth.

He chewed slowly, the moment drawing out so long it quickly became awkward.

"...Count Calbert, your concerns are valid. We cannot allow such threats to persist. I will see to it that more resources are allocated for the search and for your family's protection."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Your support means everything to us," Calbert replied, bowing slightly before continuing. "On a different note, I wanted to discuss the potential matches between our children. My daughters, Violet and Crystal, and my son, Cassius, could make excellent matches for the princes and princess. It would be beneficial to keep the power amongst long-time Caesonian nobility. We all know the Varian and Alidasht visitors will always be simply that… They will always remain loyal to their own kingdoms at the end of the day. "

King Edin stroked his beard, contemplating the proposal. "Indeed... We can certainly arrange something to explore these possibilities further." However, Edin's demeanor shifted as he brought up a sensitive topic rather quickly. "Speaking of your son, Cassius… We must also acknowledge that he is a bastard."

Count Calbert's face tightened.

“Now, now. Do understand and see from my eyes. Your first wife left not only you, but her position, and snatched your son from you, did she not? Such a shameful, disgraceful woman can not be trusted to raise a man of caliber. “

Calbert’s voice was measured but tense as he replied, "Your Majesty, Cassius is a capable and honorable man. I can assure you that."

King Edin seemed unfazed as he dove in for more cheese. "...Somehow… I doubt that …However, Anastasia does not appeal to important, well-mannered gentlemen in our kingdom anyhow. Perhaps it would be a good match after all. I would like to meet your bastard and see for myself what sort of creature we are dealing with, especially if he is to one day fall in your footsteps.”

Calbert clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to react. "As you say…I must remind you of the urgency regarding Violet's safety, then depart." With that, the count bowed stiffly, his anger barely concealed. "Thank you for your time, Your Majesty. I shall take my leave now."

King Edin, however, shrugged it off and licked his fingers.

Meet and Greet 2

King Edin and Duchess Victoria

Duchess Victoria approached King Edin's throne, her nose upturned as she made her way. She sat down hastily, and immediately began fussing with her hair, ensuring each strand was perfectly in place. Her gloved hands folded delicately in her lap, she cast a disdainful glance at King Edin, who was eating his cheese messily, crumbs falling onto his lap.

King Edin's enjoyment of his meal was apparent, but every bite he took seemed to offend the Duchess further. She grimaced visibly, her lips curling in disgust at his lack of decorum, and cleared her throat loudly. He looked up and glared at her.

"Your Majesty," she began, her voice dripping with disdain as she straightened her already impeccable posture, "I am here to discuss my daughters, Ariella and Priscilla. They are the epitome of beauty and grace, the perfect matches for your princes. No women in the kingdom can compare to their loveliness. And my son Drake is the perfect match for your pretty little Anastasia. "

King Edin paused his meal. "Indeed, Victoria... However, we must also address the matter of Ariella’s behavior. We discussed earlier how Callum has been a bad influence on her." She made a face. “... You attended the church ceremony, did you not? … I trust you saw the painting.”

Victoria sucked in her lips as a laugh bubbled in her throat, immediately recalling the defaced painting. " …I was very embarrassed for you, Your Majesty.”

“Do you also recall what you said to me about Callum and Ariella… And the rumors between them?”

“Ariella is better suited for Wulfric. Callum has a poor reputation and temperament. I see no future for my daughter with him."

“We found a small, slender footprint by the painting. and I have a strong feeling that this has something to do with them both… And I know your daughter has a reputation for her disdain for shoes... Thus, I would like your daughter present at the church tonight.”

“As if Ariella would ever go to a church on her own to deface a painting. She’s much too refined. ” she scoffed, though a bead of sweat betrayed her composure as it trickled down her cheek. “Your grace, Prince Callum is very mentally ill, as we all know. Surely, this is his doing?” The duchess opened her fan with a flourish and began to wave it at herself.

“If that is the case, then we shall see the truth tonight. She will be there, or I will have men drag her there... I wager neither of you want to endure the embarrassment of Ariella being dragged through the streets.”

Duchess Victoria stood, her posture rigid with pride. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will see to it personally."

With a final, disdainful glance at the cheese on King Edin's plate, she stood up and returned to her table where she sat with her husband Duke Gideon, Count Landon Monet, and his children.

Meet and Greet 3

King Edin and Grand Vizier Hafiz

Hafiz bowed respectfully, a charming smile on his lips. "Your Majesty," he said smoothly, "it is an honor to be in your presence."

King Edin returned the smile. "Grand Vizier, welcome. Please, sit. We have much to discuss."

Hafiz took a seat. "Your Majesty, it is evident that both Alidasht and Caesonia could greatly benefit from a strengthened alliance, particularly in light of the recent tensions. What are your thoughts on forging a closer relationship between our nations?"

"Indeed, Grand Vizier. I recall your heated reaction during the unfortunate incident involving Duke Vikena during your arrival. Once again, I extend my apologies for his pitiful conduct. It is imperative that we maintain our relations, and your suggestion aligns with my best interests." King Edin took another bite of food, his eyes briefly meeting Hafiz's before returning to his meal.

Hafiz glared at the face of cheese briefly while the King’s eyes had been averted. "Your Majesty, I am fully committed to ensuring the prosperity of Caesonia. While my brother tends to focus inward, Alidasht possesses abundant resources that could greatly benefit your kingdom. I stand ready to advise the Sultan on any matters you deem essential."

"...I have been contemplating the potential of our alliance. United, our kingdoms could achieve unparalleled power. The possibilities are limitless." King Edin wiped his lips with a napkin, his gaze sharpening.

Hafiz leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. "Or perhaps, together, we could dominate those who oppose us… when the time is right, of course."

King Edin paused, his expression shifting as a slow smile spread across his face. The thought of a world without the Varian Kingdom, a world with Caesonia's dominance, tantalized him. "Indeed, the thought is most appealing."

Hafiz continued, his tone persuasive, "Your Majesty, envision the possibilities. Our combined forces could secure our interests and subdue any adversaries. A strategic marriage could further solidify our alliance. Princess Anastasia, for instance, would suit my needs for a wife. As Grand Vizier, I am well-positioned to ensure such a union is advantageous for both our realms. Perhaps one day, I could ensure such benefit in… a more powerful way."

King Edin's eyes gleamed with interest. "Anastasia, you say? A union of that nature would indeed fortify our ties. " He also enjoyed the idea of the girl being sent off to an entirely different nation.

Hafiz nodded, leaning in slightly. "Precisely, Your Majesty. A marriage between our families would symbolize unity.. and strength..."

King Edin pondered this, his mind racing with the possibilities. "You present a compelling argument, Grand Vizier. "

Hafiz's smile widened, "With your consent, Your Majesty, I would love to arrange a meeting with the princess."

King Edin nodded, his smile returning. "We shall proceed with your plan, Grand Vizier. Let us see where this path leads us."

[princess]

Charlotte, Lorenzo, Leo, Riona, Sjandehk,and Iyen

PART 1
Location: The Royal Curd

Charlotte scanned the menu, her eyes darting over the various dishes with a mixture of confusion and amusement written all over her countenance. As she looked up briefly, she noticed a familiar figure passing by. Her face brightened with recognition as he waved at her.

She smiled and waved back, beckoning him and his friend to join her at the table if they so wished.

Iyen was the one who noticed Charlotte’s wave, and responded with a smile and a wave of her own. “I think work has to wait, Sjan-dehk. Your new friend’s asking us to join her,” she said and gave Sjan-dehk a nudge with her elbow.

“You mean, you want to join her,” Sjan-dehk replied flatly. He shook his head. “I won’t stop you if that’s what you want to do, but I’m staying.”

“Come on,” Iyen pleaded, almost whining. “You know I can’t talk to them on my own! I need you there.”

Sjan-dehk fixed her with a hard look. Then, he smirked. “Sounds like a you problem, to me. And besides, I’m already in enough trouble with Lady Adiyan because of what you told her. I’m going to do the job she gave me properly.”

Iyen stuck her tongue out at him and folded her arms. “It’s no fun sitting here on our own. We’re not going to learn anything, you know that, right?”

As much as Sjan-dehk was loath to admit, Iyen did have a point. Keeping to themselves wasn’t going to do them many favours. And he supposed that the pale girl’s company – based on what little he had seen the other day – wouldn’t be the worst around. “Fine,” he grumbled. “If it’ll shut you up, but I’ll have you know that I’m doing this against my own free will and judgement.”

Iyen stood up with a giggle. “Oh, you’re adorable as always, Shanya,” she teased. “You gave up both when you agreed to take me with you.”

Sjan-dehk didn’t deign to reply. He led Iyen to the girl’s table, bowing his head in greeting as he approached. Iyen glanced at him for a moment, then followed suit. “Good morning,” he said and offered both the girl and her – he assumed – parent a smile. “Thank you for inviting me. I mean, us. This is–” he gestured to Iyen “–Rasehnyas Iyen. She is friend.”

“Hello,” Iyen chirped and waved. Without waiting for anything else, she took her seat. Sjan-dehk sighed and did the same.

“Who taught you your manners? A sardine?” He shot her a disapproving look.

Iyen responded with a cheeky grin. “I’ll not take advice on manners from a provincial,” she said and nodded to Charlotte. “You never gave me her name, by the–” She cut herself off when she noticed the flush coming over Sjan-dehk’s cheeks. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Sjan-dehk nodded. “Didn’t think I’d need to, to be honest.”

Iyen rolled her eyes. “And you were going to lecture me on manners?” She turned her attention back to the girl with a friendly smile. Twirling a lock of her dark hair around a finger, Iyen leaned forward and said, “Sorry. My friend, the Captain, he is idiot. Your name, what is it?”

“Good morning, it’s lovely to have the two of you join us. Please feel free to have a seat. ” Charlotte politely greeted. Her gaze shifted to Iyen and she said softly, “ My name is Charlotte, however…Most call me Lottie.”

“Thank you. But we sit, already,” Iyen replied with a cheeky grin, her chin resting on the backs of her hands. “You are very…” She began, but soon trailed off. Her features squeezed together in thought, and then she turned to Sjan-dehk. “How do you say ‘pretty’ in this local language?”

Sjan-dehk shrugged. “I’m not helping you with this.”

Iyen stuck her tongue out at him again. “You’re never going to find a partner with that attitude of yours. Learn to have some fun, why don’t you?”

“Oh, are those the words of someone who’s nothing left to say?” Sjan-dehk said nonchalantly as he picked up his hat to inspect its woven bamboo strips. The glance he gave Iyen from behind it was full of impish mischief and amusement. “I’d gladly help if you were being sincere, but you’re you, and I’m me, and we both know you’re doing this for a laugh. You’re on your own.”

Iyen grumbled beneath her breath.“I guess even provincials are right sometimes,” she muttered and cleared her throat. Looking back at Charlotte, she said in a rather awkward voice, “You–You are uh…Very…” She waved her hands over her own face. “Look very good.”

Sjan-dehk’s barely repressed chuckle was easily heard. “Apologies,” he said and did his best to calm his expression. “She is still not good with your words. Very new and no practice, yes?”

Charlotte’s eyes darted between the two for a moment, before she covered her mouth to emit a brief giggle. “Oh she is sweet…” She clasped her hands together and smiled at the girl, “Thank you! …You look wonderful, Iyen.”

Iyen returned the smile. “Thank you. That is–” That was as far as she got before two newcomers interrupted her.

Leo glanced between two tables; one held almost exclusively royals while a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces sat at the other. Easy choice there, he did not want to spend brunch explaining to royalty why, when even he didn’t know, he was entirely pink. Charlotte, Lorenzo, and some unfamiliar faces were the better option. He should figure out if those he didn’t recognize were worth knowing, and Leo subtly gestured at the table so that Riona could attend to his chair. “Good afternoon,” He bowed respectfully before approaching the chair.

Riona inclined her head to the group already at the table before pulling out a chair for His Lordliness. Once he was settled, she backed off a few paces and stood still as a statue. Nothing to do now but wait.

… And stare at the aggressively yellow decor of The Royal Curd. Gods above, it was an assault on the eyes. The gold just made the yellow yellower, casting the white surfaces in a sallow light. Made the guests look like they had jaundice too.

“Lord Leo Smithwood, heir of Stravy, pleasure to meet you.” He added, introducing himself. This time when his chair was pulled out he did not allow Riona any chance to attempt to pull the chair away from him. Instead, Leo hooked his foot around one of the legs and pulled it forward as he sat in a smooth motion. “And Duke Vikena, exceptionally dressed, as expected.” He added, smiling at both Lorenzo and Charlotte.

The former briefly removed his gaze from the menu to awkwardly blink at Leo’s absurd pigmentation. Sunburn? But the hair too? I... The young man has always worn a strong face. To do so now while enduring such… This is simply strange.

“You as well, young lord. You never fail to honor your father’s name with your… er… representation at these fine events. He’d be proud.” Lorenzo just wanted to pretend Leo did not appear as he did. Quickly returning his attention to the menu helped. A wide and sincere grin overtook Leo’s face at the Duke’s complement.

Charlotte glanced toward Leo and Riona as they joined the group, her skin paling slightly at the sight of her pink friend. She managed to control her reaction, though her eyes widened momentarily as she greeted him with a wave. Setting her sights on Riona, her mind drifted to their brief exchange at the dinner. A smile formed on her lips and she gestured for her to sit if she so pleased.

Riona acknowledged the invitation with a dip of her chin, but made no move to sit. Couldn’t, not without permission from her charge or someone of higher standing than him.

So she just studied the future duchess, trying to puzzle out how a seemingly decent sort like her could stand being friends with an arrogant, juvenile prick like Sh*tlord. It boggled the mind.

But then, Lady Charlotte seemed all too willing to overlook Lordling Smithwood’s many shortcomings. Could she really be clueless about the way he looked down his nose at the “unwashed masses,” especially those in service? He didn’t exactly hide his contempt, but maybe he reined it in while Lady Charlotte was within earshot.

Or… could it be that she simply chose not to see his uglier side? Too afraid of jeopardizing their friendship to ever call him out on his behavior or beliefs? They went way back after all, and with the ostracization the Vikenas experienced, she probably couldn’t stomach the thought of losing her childhood friend, even if he was a jerk.

The sight of a man who was completely pink – and not in the sunburnt way that Sjan-dehk could at least understand – was surprising, to say the least. Just as surprising was the apparent lack of reaction from those at the table. Was this perhaps an example of Caesonian high fashion? He didn’t discount that possibility; even within the Commonwealth, certain peoples had tastes that were odd, to say the least.

He cleared his throat and nodded to the pink man. “Good morning.”

“Ah, yes. Good morning, also,” Iyen quickly added shortly after him. Her eyes wandered over to the woman standing behind the pink man, lingering on her for a moment before shifting to look at Sjan-dehk. “Why’s she just standing there?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“No idea,” Sjan-dehk replied, genuinely clueless. Maybe she was a servant? It seemed that way, by how she and the pink man – Leo was his name, if he heard correctly – interacted. But surely that didn’t mean she couldn’t sit. And so, using his foot, he roughly pulled out the chair directly beside him. “You, uh…Standing one,” he called to her. “Want to sit?”

At first, Riona didn’t realize that the man’s words had been meant for her. When she finally did, a gentle smile spread across her face and she bowed, deeper this time. “You are most kind, sir,” she said. “However, by Lord Smithwood’s measure, I am unfit to share a table with such fine company, much less break bread.” Riona straightened, her hands clasped before her, the picture of a perfect servant. “Thus, I must keep to my feet, as a reminder of my place.” She pointedly ignored Sh*tlord, keeping her warm gaze fixed on the other man. “Nevertheless, I am touched that you thought to offer a place at your table—and moreover for giving it voice… Thank you.”

Charlotte’s confusion was evident as she looked between Leo and Riona. She was almost certain Leo wouldn’t insist on the poor girl standing. She bit her lip, her brows furrowing slightly, but before she could say anything, Lorenzo stepped in. Leo glanced at Charlotte, still grinning from Lorenzo’s words, and merely rolled his eyes at Riona’s antics.

“Sit! The Vikenas do not like others standing around us while we sit. Especially servants, if we can help it.” This was mostly true and something Lorenzo was unable to help during the dinner with the Alidasht royal family due to him only being the guest of honor among other things that kept him far too distracted to mention his usual desires. “I would never want to give any impression of a servant standing over the one and only Duke of Vermillion like this. At the grand opening of Our Majesty’s Royal Curd, no less.” Lorenzo gave his best Duchess Victoria Edwards impression, crinkling his nose and grimacing in disgust at the thought being seen in the bad light he described. “Make haste before I lose my appetite for the Volcano Vortex…”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up with understanding. She straightened up and tried to mimic his tone, though her natural sweetness and hesitancy made it a bit awkward. “Yes! This is true!” She declared, trying to sound authoritative. “We simply cannot have someone standing over us like that.” She ended her attempt with a subtle wink toward Riona.

Confusion filled Sjan-dehk’s eyes as his gaze alternated between the standing girl and the seat he had offered her. Part of him wondered if he had missed some subtle meaning in her words; it didn’t sound to his ears like she was talking about accepting a seat. If anything, the way she had spoken and the phrases she had used made Sjan-dehk wonder if he had accidentally promised her something far grander. A ship taken by force of arms, for example. But the responses from both Charlotte and her father told him that he hadn’t misunderstood anything. Not on that point, in any case.

Iyen, however, who couldn’t quite parse all that had been said, only knew one thing. The woman wasn’t allowed to sit by her lord – or whatever they were. “Fuck that nonsense,” she muttered darkly beneath her breath and immediately rounded on the pink man, whom she assumed to be the aforementioned lord. “What she mean, unfit–”

Sjan-dehk quickly grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back before she made things any worse. Although he had to admit, the idea of someone standing while he sat and ate made him feel very uneasy. Any Viserjantan noble who tried enforcing such a thing would find themselves swiftly sanctioned for failing to observe the proper niceties. But they were not in Viserjanta, as he had to remind himself so many times over the course of so few days. What he considered to be inalienable courtesies were, as it turned out, quite alienable.

“Calm yourself,” he said quietly, but Iyen wasn’t having any of it.

“I am calm,” she protested. “And I’ll calmly put my boot up his–”

Sjan-dehk momentarily tightened his grip on her shoulder, which quietened her. “We can’t start a fight. Not now, anyway.” He released her. With a grin on his face,” he added, “And besides, didn’t we already decide that I’m the one who starts the fights?”

Iyen folded her arms and sighed. “You’re right,” she grumbled. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”

With that settled, Sjan-dehk turned his attention back to the standing woman. “This place, this is place for people to eat, yes? Then your place is to sit and eat. And also–” he gestured to Iyen, then to himself “–she is not noble and I am only small noble. If you must stand, then it is fair that we also stand with you. That will make others unco-uncomfar-” He drew in a deep breath, tried to ignore Iyen’s giggling, and tried again. “That will make others uncomfortable, yes? And that is not good. So you must sit.”

“Riona, please sit down, you are clearly making everyone very uncomfortable.” Leo did not bother to look at her as he spoke, but a mild look of annoyance replaced his grin. “She is dramatic and holds a very loose grip on reality.” He added. Truthfully, Leo didn’t care if Riona sat or not, he’d just prefer if she sat somewhere else. Like another continent, one that took years to travel to would be even better.

Sjan-dehk couldn’t stop himself from scowling when he heard the pink man speak. That he was being incredibly rude – to someone who served him, no less – was one thing. But he hadn’t just been rude, he had essentially placed words in Sjan-dehk’s mouth. Wisdom told him that it would be best if he kept his mouth shut, but Sjan-dehk never professed to be a wise man. And so, he spoke. “Not what I mean,”he said in a tone that was a touch terser than was probably polite.

There was more he wanted to say, such as how this pink lordling could do with some lessons in basic respect, but Sjan-dehk held his tongue. For now, at least.

The pleasant warmth that had blossomed in Riona’s chest when the others invited her to join them evaporated the instant the Lordling opened his mouth. He was gaslighting them, her included. Well then…

“My Lord,” Riona said, pressing her hand on her chest. “I had no idea you considered me your equal. Without the ability to read minds, I could only draw conclusions based purely on your choice of words. If I have been mistaken, please, set the record straight.” She gestured to the table, “Tell me plainly that you see me as more than a mere ant and that you would welcome me at your table.” Of course, he’d do no such thing. And if he did, it would only be to avoid losing face in front of the Vikenas, not because he meant it. Still, there might be some small satisfaction to hear him say that out loud in front of them. Whichever it went, she hoped they’d remember what he did—and did not—say or do. Her money was on him trying to dodge her challenge entirely.

“This is not the theater, Riona, the dramatics will end. Take a seat, or find somewhere else to be where you are not looming over the table. A request from Duke Vikena should be more than enough instruction.” Leo’s reply was direct and his annoyance with the situation was clear.

And there it is.

[samreaper]

Kazumin Nagasa

Time: Mid-late morning
Location: Blossom Cafe
Interactions:
Mentions:



The slicked-haired blonde strutted his way inside with a confidant stride, the lone cowlick bouncing in tandem, the world around him his. A wide-toothed grin; humming the recent upbeat tune as he strolled up to the front desk/podium.

The waitress smiled, "Welcome to the Morning Blossom Cafe! My name is Mingyu and I am so pleased that you’re here. Are you here for the courting event or simply a table for one?"

Strolling to a casual stop while throwing his right elbow up to rest on the podium, then shifted into a light, friendly lean. “Well, a fine howdy do, Ms, Mingyu was it?” Tilting his head, right index finger sliding the shades down to get a better gander at the lovely miss, forgetting the missing lens. “A courting event you say?” A quick immediate, scan of the surrounding area with bright chocolate almond eyes; taking note of a few familiar faces. “That would surely explain all the lovely gents and lasses, odd you’re not amongst them wait, no more a pity..love the name by the way.” A glinting wink as the shades were nudged back over his eyes, a faint jaunty hum.

She giggled, “Oh you’re very charming! You’d have me in the palm of your hands… Now, how can I help you today, sir?”

An audible, somewhat bashful sniff at the compliment.” Shucks miss. Looks like I’m not the only one with a sweet tongue here.” He chuckled playfully, nodding at her question.” And you can help me, with a vocal tour of said event and some potential highlights? And…” Pursing his lips, pondering, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the counter.” Feel free to get creative with it.” Wriggling his right hand’s fingers in a silly pizzazz manner as he suggested.

Mingyu blushed and covered her mouth as a fit of giggles left her lips. “Well! We are arranging randomized dates so that everyone has an opportunity to meet someone new during the courting event. She gestured to a bowl. We have some numbers in here. Simply select one and head to the table, and you may find a pretty lady waiting for you. This is all of course if you’re interested in such a thing…Do pray tell?” She smiled and added, “If romance isn’t in your cards then I will simply seat you somewhere comfy and assist you with finding something absolutely scrumptious to eat!” Her gaze slid to Roman and Olivia and she smiled as she watched her shovel food into her mouth. “The food is absolutely divine here. You won’t be disappointed.”

Lightly bobbing his head to the music playing in the cafe as he listened to Mingyu kindly explain the current going-on. The grin on his face widening as if merely delighted by the waitress energetic speech, but mores o the captivating lady shamelessly scarfing food catching his eye. A look of pure glee; containing the fit of snickering that suddenly threatened just below the surface, straining to keep that charming face.* Holy cornhole! It’s percy….on a date...tell me I didn't overdose on sugar...* He thought with incredulous amusement. The mere idea would have been scoffed at.

And yet, there she was. Being a blushing, awkward mess the wonderful cherry on this glorious dessert.” Uno momento, Mingyu, apologies.” holding up a finger; closing his eyes and inhaling slowly both to inhale the wondrous aroma of mouth-watering food, feeling and savoring the sensation of eating the snocone all over again.” Mhm, lovely….”

Quickly noticing he muttered that out aloud and moved to cover up with a cough.” I mean, yes!” Said with an enthusiastic thump against the podium.” That’s just the kind of spirit and energy sure to draw customers. Ya do a fine job making it tempting, fine miss, especially after seeing that.” Motioning towards the same said couple.* Oh yes, she is never gonna live this down.*

Mingyu parted her lips to speak, but an interruption filled the air: “Hi sweetie! Remember me! …Want some toast?!” She looked over to see a blonde woman waving.

A raise of the brow, the voice, familiar though not one he could instantly recall. The promise of toast, however, was an offer he would never refuse (knowingly) and turned his attention in their direction. His face lit up with recognition.” Dahling~!” Kazu called out, giving her and her grumpy companion a fluttery wave of his fingers.” Looks like toast is on the table. And that’s the table I shall have, if you please, Miss Mingyu?” Said the grinning kazu, finishing with a snap-finger gun.

“Go on and enjoy.” Mingyu said with a smile, handing him a menu.

Taking the menu with a casual, sly tug of the corner in an attempt to come off cool only for the bandages cause it to slip, where it drifted slowly to the ground..” Thank ya kindly. And Mingyu, have a fantastic day.” Said with a dazzling smile.

Sauntering off towards the vacant table, whistling hoping he pulled off the suave finish, wincing internally when the menu finally landed, making an audible sound.* Fuckin mule! So close! Hnngh!* A small huffy inhale as he went; grabbed and spun the nearest chair before dropping down, fingers drumming against the table, matching his humming.

Delilah threw her arms around him as she gave him a hug in greeting, “ Hey Kazu! …What are you doing here? Looking for a girlfriend are ya?” She teased.

His face visibly crinkled at the suggestion as he let out a low oof from the abrupt hug.” Dearie me, no, Dahling. I’m here for the toast of course!” A dismissive wave of the hand, his other used to return the hug.” I see you had first-class view of our lovely Olivia and her…*courting*. Won’t you please join me, where we may gossip between toast?” Motioning towards the empty seat, a devilish, giddy grin.

[PapaOso]

Cassius, Liliane & Alexander

Mention:@JJ Doe Count Fritz

---

As the heavy wooden door closed behind the duo, a mix of aromas—ale, tobacco, and the earthy scent of rain-soaked leather—rushed to greet their noses. The tavern was abuzz even at such an early hour; loud laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the air. The patrons ranged from rugged laborers to vigilant drifters.

Liliane, her navy blue gown contrasting with the mostly earth-toned attire of the tavern's regulars, moved with grace as she shut her umbrella. Eyes slid to the well-dressed pair, the chatter hushing for just a moment as she made her way to the bar, the wooden floor creaking under her steps.

The barmaid approached with a smirk, wiping her hands on her apron. She stood out with her shoulder-length curly red hair and dark lipstick. Her face was littered with freckles and her dark eyes were adorned with makeup. She leaned on the bar casually, “Hey! Name’s Marcy. What can I get for you guys?”

Cassius rested against the bar in an equally casual manner, taking in the lively scene around him with a joyous expression. The tavern was filled with the murmur of conversation and the clinking of mugs, just the kind of atmosphere that felt like the closest thing to home to him. Breathing in the all too familiar scent of stale ale, his gaze shifted to the barmaid. She seemed confident but looked rather young…perhaps too young to be tending the bar in an establishment like this. “Morning, love, I would simply adore a glass of brandy, the top shelf variety if possible.” He said with a charming grin. “And if it’s not too much trouble, we have some questions.”

Liliane's polite smile did little to mask her purpose, her eyes scanning the room not for a drink but for a face. "We're actually here inquiring about a young woman that may have passed by here last night.”

“Pale skin, long raven hair, and an unforgettable pair of crimson eyes.” Alexander's words cut in as he stepped from right behind Liliane to find his place beside her at the bar. His interjection was so chillingly sudden, as if he had kept from out of her very shadow. “Any information would be appreciated.” He added before glancing down at Liliane, concern painted across his face.

Cas straightened slightly, his eyes moving away from Marcy and his instincts sharpening as he assessed the abrupt arrival of this newcomer. His expression remained neutral, betraying none of the curiosity that stirred within him. Instead, he observed with a cool detachment and a naturally calm demeanor as he simply waited to see if Liliane was familiar with this man.

Lily’s gaze shifted to Alexander calmly, studying him briefly as the barmaid responded.

“Oh, yeah, I remember her,” Marcy said, tilting her head slightly, causing her red curls to bounce. “Scar across her face, right?” She gestured animatedly with her finger down her face to highlight the placement of the scar. “She came in last night and practically inhaled a whole bottle of whisky on her own.”

“Was she alone? …Did she say where she may be heading?” Liliane asked, her tone hopeful.

Marcy nodded vigorously, her smirk fading slightly as she recalled the details. She placed a hand on her hip, the other gesturing towards an imaginary bottle. “She was here with a man, dark hair and charming-looking. He was watching over her the whole time, especially when she started to get a bit... wobbly.”
She mimicked a swaying motion with her body, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Girl was a huge downer but then once she finished the bottle, she was a lot more fun.” The barmaid pretended to stumble, catching herself on the bar with a laugh. She leaned her head backward over the bar with a cheeky grin.

“ As for where they were going, they mentioned moving to another bar, but I didn’t catch which one…” Marcy straightened up and tapped her chin before adding with urgency, “...And a group of thugs followed them out! Seems like they were in some sort of trouble.”

Liliane glanced toward Cassius, interested in his thoughts as she replied to the barmaid, “...Thank you, sweetheart, that’s very helpful.”

His eyes were still settled on the stranger even as Marcy spoke, though Cassius listened intently to every word the young barmaid said. Finally, he turned his gaze to Lily as she thanked the woman. He took his moment to address her curious glance with a whisper meant only for her. “I wonder who this mysterious casanova is? If they were being followed, perhaps your initial sense of urgency was well founded, Lily.”

The barmaid flashed a quick smile. “Good luck. Hope you guys find her.” Then she paused, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh, and you know what? I saw the same man here a few nights ago with Lady Charlotte Vikena. They were looking for somebody just like you are now.”

Interesting… Charlotte is quite tied into things.

”She’s a curious one indeed.” Cas stated nonchalantly, though a buzz of curiosity swelled within him at the mention of her name.It seemed as though he was unable to escape her since the night they met outside of his father’s doorstep.

The countess did seem to ponder that information, but she was quick to face Alexander, “...What brings you here, my dear?”

“Well conveniently… You, my dear.” He smiled kindly before his expression slipped back to concern. “But in truth, your husband was whom I was searching for until I spotted you, your umbrella, and your strapping bodyguard there entering this… humble establishment. It's by the mercy of the gods that we find ourselves together, searching for your precious daughter.”

Liliane held his gaze, her smile never falling. Finally, she looked toward Cassius. “Cassius, sweetheart, please continue this conversation with Marcy for me. There are some questions that failed to cross my mind I’m sure. “ She offered an arm toward Alexander, “Let us speak somewhere private.”

Cassius simply answered with a nod as he watched the two take their leave, a look of amusement painting his expression. “Well…that was fucking strange.” He stated plainly to Marcy as he turned his attention back to her. ” I am curious though, have you ever seen that gentleman before?” He asked, referring to the strange man that had appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“...I don’t think so…” Marcy answered hesitantly as she pushed him the brandy he requested. “Any more questions before I attend to the other slobs?” She asked with a smirk.

He shot the brandy in one, long gulp before responding. ”No more questions, but I do have a request…pour me another.” He flashed a kind smile at Marcy as he slid the glass back towards her.
Marcy raised a brow but did as he requested.

Soon enough, Countess Liliane returned. “Sorry Cassius, hope you did not have to wait too long here.” She moved to lean on the bar and waved over Marcy once more, who sighed as she walked back over. “Are you certain you did not overhear the name of the bar nor the name of the man…? Her safety is at risk, please understand.”

The barmaid tapped her chin, then finally her face lit up. “Wait! I think his name is Frizz or something like that. Yes. Frizz.”

Liliane stared at her in confusion as she repeated, “Frizz?”

”I believe she means Fritz.” Cassius declared to Lily. I know this man, met him last night at the masquerade. He’s charming, rather odd, but charming.”

“Let us find this Fritz then.”

[princess]

Alexander and Countess Liliane Damien

Time: Morning, between the time Lily left Cassius and when she returns

Location: Alley outside Tough Tavern

Mention:@Tpartywithzombi Violet

---

“Preferably.” A speck of seduction sprinkled into the single word reply as he took her arm. The two stepped outside, with Alexander dawning his umbrella first for the two to share. “This way.” He led them just around the corner at the mouth of the alley beside the tavern.

“Countess, before I say anything, I would like to share that the Black Rose is using much of the company's resources to locate your daughter and see to it she makes it home safely and that your family owes us nothing.”

“It’s so appreciated, Alexander.” Liliane adjusted her position to face him.
“Really. You’ve all been so darling… Might I inquire if there is anything that can be done to improve Violet’s quality of life as well? Her difficulty with her condition deeply stresses my husband and I.”

Alexander's mask slightly cracked upon the mention of Violet's condition. Does she know? His widened eyes peered into Liliane's. No, that's not possible. He abruptly shook his head apologetically with an embarrassed smile.

“Apologies. I- Well, it's not important. What's important is me addressing your question.” He recovered and took a breath as he prepared to share his guidance. “I understand you are having a difficult time and wish to keep things in-house. Those with the strongest hearts do not wish to see their burdens be placed on others.” His hand clasped hers firmly. “But you should consider allowing the Black Rose Company to assist in keeping a watchful eye on your daughter, especially after what we uncovered last night. It's troubling, Liliane.” His brows furrowed with concern.

Concern filled her expression. “What ever did you uncover?” Alexander made sure to look around to ensure their privacy before leaning toward her until their cheeks were beside each other as he spoke into her ear.

“We found a dress matching what Violet planned to wear for the masquerade party. The torso was covered in blood. But… we failed to find a tear or disturbance on the dress. It's a good sign the blood doesn't belong to her, though that does pose a question. Whose blood is it?” Alexander retracted his face from hers, his expression stern and serious. “The murder of a stable boy occurred last night. Decapitation with no body to be found. No suspects as of yet.”

Liliane’s eye twitched and she sighed deeply. Her gaze faltered as she took in the information.
“...It seems that I must indeed request the assistance that you have offered, Mr. Deacon.”

“Do not sound so defeated, Liliane. Your family has established strong ties with us. We'll keep things under control… but you have to be willing to hand us the reins so we may do just that. Your husband, as great of a protector that is, is no longer enough I'm afraid. Focus on keeping your family together and we will focus on keeping you and your loved ones protected.” He smiled to lift her spirits. “I recommend your husband speak to Marek promptly when the opportunity arises. As for you, if you need to speak to a representative of the Black Rose in private, reach out to myself. About anything”

Liliane smiled graciously and took his hand in hers. “You’re a saint, Mr. Deacon. I am certain he’ll be seeing Marek again very soon.”

“Great, I will see if I can… make Marek more available to him.” Alexander tilted his head toward the Tavern entrance before leading Lianne over. “As for saints, the true saint is yourself, Liliane. The purest person I've come across in this decorated den of lies. Keep that smile, keep that warmth. It's indeed a treasure even I am envious of lacking. Farewell Countess Damien, dear.”

[JJ Doe]

Night Sola 23, 1739

Violet & Fritz Part 2

---

But before she could succumb to the primal urge within her, a sudden force tore his hand away, snapping her back to reality with a jolt. "No!" she hissed, her voice dripping with venom, as she recoiled from him, her back pressed against the cold embrace of the hedge, its shadows swallowing her whole. "Why are you here! You should go." She said desperately.

The count’s gaze locked onto the woman, his face expressionless, his body still. Slowly, as the world regained its colors, his senses realigned with it. At last, a faint smile graced his lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as the smile spread on his lips as she felt panic slip in.

Emboldened, he approached her with purposeful steps. “Lady Damien,” he began, his voice calm and controlled. “... You are a remarkably kind and strong woman,” he said. “I can only imagine the pain you’re in, battling this.” Ryn reached out and held her hands.

Her red eyes dropped down to her hands as she felt his warmth against her cold skin.

“You’re staying away from your home to protect everyone inside, aren’t you?”

Violet's eyes looked up towards the windows as she felt a sharp poke of anger and frustration.

“But I can see that your control is faltering. How long will you be able to resist before the craving takes hold?”

At this rate, she might snap and attack the first living thing that crossed her path. If she could not control how much she took, then they would surely perish from exsanguination. Better to curb some of that maddening need while she still had a semblance of self-control.

After making a rough estimation of her height and weight, Ryn calculated how much blood she would require, at the very least, to stave off the worst of her thirst. “If you fear you won’t be unable to maintain your grip on yourself much longer and you’re scared of inadvertently killing someone… then I will offer a portion of my blood.”

Violet's eyes shot towards him.

Stunned silence.

“At my weight, I have about 4,270 milliliters of blood in total. It’s said that humans can lose up to 15% of their blood volume without severe medical consequences. Which means I can safely spare around 640 milliliters.” The smile on his face widened a fraction as he took in her reaction to his sudden babble. “That’s a bit more than what’s in a soda bottle.” He gestured with his hands, sculpting the air to illustrate the size and shape. “Have you ever had one? It’s delicious.”

Lowering his hands, he arrived at the crux of his proposal. “I am willing to donate one bottle’s worth of blood to you, if you are willing to risk it.”

The silence echoed around them as Violet nearly pressed herself into the large hedge behind her as if trying to flee from the situation but yet she hesitated. She had already killed someone. Not just an hour ago…

…But the smell that lingered in the air and the taste that still stained her lips… "Why?" her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "Why?..what do you gain from this. No one does anything for free." Her tone turned back to its venomous state, each word biting after the next. "I cant even trust my own family, how is it you believe i’d trust anyone with something like that?"

“It would make me feel like I did some good by helping someone, so there is that. And maybe I’ll be able to make a new friend along the way.” Ryn tilted his head, confusion written on his face. “I understand why you might not trust me, but why can’t you trust your family? Do they not know about this?”

A darkness shrouded over Violet's face as her eyes narrowed. A grin slowly crept on her face, her lips curling to reveal the toothy secret she held behind them as darkness encased the pair. “Who do you think chose this life for me?” She asked him, “It wasn't me.” She snapped angrily, her head shaking in disagreement.

Her grin faded nearly as quickly as it came. “What does it matter anymore?” she said, rolling her eyes. “I was good…never did anything wrong, read my books while they dotted over my sister. Living a boring life in the shadows of someone else.” She then gestured to herself. “I end up with an ax in my head, dead. Only to be pulled from peace…sun…calmness to a world where my body was failing me, my eyes blind, my face disfigured…just so they could pine over another sick child.” tears well in her eyes as she dropped her head. “Forced to drink someone else's blood to survive…” a tear rolled down her face as she gently wiped it away.

Lady Damien’s words and tears spilled from her in a torrent of raw anguish. Ryn bore silent witness as she unburdened her soul. A pang of sympathy pierced his heart, for hers was a tragedy oft-repeated amongst those forced out of death’s slumber. From the folds of his coat, Ryn withdrew a crisp, neatly folded handkerchief. “Here,” he said, proffering the fabric. She stood still for a moment before reaching for the handkerchief.

“Do you wish to die again, rather than live like this?”

"I thought for a while about it, even starved myself in denial." She offered back the Handkerchief after drying her tears with a soft smile. “I dont think i’d return back to where I was if I did…" she said softly,knowing her actions of survival would lead her down a much darker end. “They created the monster, so they will need to live with it." Her voice dropped to a more venomed tone once again.

Violet's red eyes shifted to look at him as her eyes pierced into his with a stare, unblinking and focused. “I haven’t entered the event…because I would kill them all." including alexander she thought as she tried to tear the memories of earlier from her mind but it was no use. “...You asked me before…about the craving. I dont think I could stop myself if I were to go through with your offer. You’ve been kind to me which many have not. You even kept me company in the park… " her voice trailed for a moment as she felt a few of the memories slip in. Taking a deep breath she reached down and slipped the shoes back on her feet as if preparing to leave. “So I will show you kindness and decline your offer."

Udo’s desperate quest for the honorable death that would let him pass on with his goddess’s blessing flickered and faded behind Ryn’s closed lids. A bone-deep sigh rattled in his chest. “Then I hope you can take some small comfort in knowing that there are ways to put a permanent end to your existence, should you desire.” An unthinkable thing to voice for most. For those who had contemplated suicide, though, the power to draw that final curtain provided bittersweet comfort. To know that there would be an end to their living nightmare.

For Violet, living had become her nightmare.

Shifting in her spot, Violet swayed softly as the air around her seemed to darken. She wasn't sure anymore what awaited on the other side but she knew what waited for her here and that was death and not that of her own.

“And though your family chose this, from the sounds of it, they must’ve loved you so dearly to want you back no matter the cost.” His gaze fell to the damp cloth, imagining the bitter rain of tears that must have fallen the night of Lady Damien’s murder, before tucking it away. “You’re also blessed with friends such as Lady Charlotte, who would support you through this. It speaks volumes of you as a person, Violet.”

The red eyes that fixed upon him as he spoke, narrowed at the thought of feeling remorse for the ones who supported or perhaps even had some hand in her condition. Blessed… There was no blessing here, only whispers and laughter. Death.

Ryn paused, his expression shifting as a subtle frost crept into his tone. “However, if your motivations stem from a desire to punish your family, I must urge you to reconsider your method. Please, do not involve those unconnected to your grievances. That path will only breed more pain, more darkness. They don’t deserve to bear the consequences of your family’s actions.” With her condition, she risked devaluing people to mere sustenance. If she decided their deaths could serve as a means to settle the score with her family, it would be all too easy to start viewing all other life as expendable, much like them. “Don’t let your pain and anger destroy yourself… You deserve better than that.” He wondered if he spoke these words to Lady Damien or to his own family—his grandmother.

Little Ryn stared unblinkingly into his grandmother’s eyes as her hands held his face in an inescapable grasp. Though neither were the same color, they were so dark it he could not really tell, even this close to her face, they just looked black. “They are the ones who robbed us of everything. But they twisted the narrative, turned us into monsters to be hunted without mercy.” Her weathered hands trembled, from what, he could not say, “And if not for the oath, I would have gladly become one, in body, mind, and soul.”

“It’s a bit late for that Lord Fritz. Much of me has already been destroyed.”

“But not all.” The tears were proof of that.

For the first time, Ryn’s gaze completely left Lady Damien and he contemplated the problem before them, brow furrowed in thought. “I believe securing a stable source of blood must be the priority. Establish a reserve of sorts that doesn’t involve slaughtering people left and right. It may also be worth exploring whether your hunger can be sated by non-human blood.” When he halted his pacing, he met her gaze. “Putting the issue of morality aside, even from a practical standpoint, you cannot afford to draw attention to yourself with unnecessary killing. You may end up having to deal with an angry mob with torches and pitchforks. And you would be depleting valuable blood resources.”

“Your concern for my actions are misplaced Lord Fritz. Respectfully you nor any of the other nobles cared until I became some circus act to gawk at for the morning newspaper. I would be shocked to even believe any of you cared or even knew of my death.” She looked away uncaring. “What I do with my time is my own, and if any of this information bleeds out, I will ensure that it isn’t the only thing bleeding.”

“Was… that a pun?” Ryn chuckled softly before settling into a troubled smile.

“... It seems like you’ve decided everything about me, for me, as well.” He said, the unspoken comparison to her parents hanging in the air. “May I ask why the concern I had when we walked together or the concern I am expressing now is less meaningful to you?”

From what he could gather, she seemed to be somewhere between resigned to her perceived fate and enraged at the injustice of it all. “I’m sorry people aren’t grieving for you in the way you wished. But as I understand it, your parents, with the crown’s help, have kept your murder a closely guarded secret. The newspapers haven’t reported it. Few even know of your passing, and I learned of it only by chance.” He assumed the Damiens did this in order to protect their daughter, to give her some modicum of normalcy.

Leaning forward, he pinned her with an intense stare. “What you do has always been your choice alone, Violet. You can give in to despair. Allow circumstances, or others, decide everything for you. Seek revenge or offer forgiveness. End your life or embrace this new existence. Become the monster you dread or the person you want to be. Fight alone or with allies. Every decision has consequences you must shoulder.” As Ryn straightened, he began to put his glove back on. “I’ve listed potential alternatives. Whatever avenue you pursue to slake your thirst, hereafter, know that it’s a road you walk with open eyes, fully aware that other roads exist.”

“You are not what they made you, Violet Damien. You are who you choose to become.”

“Spare me your pity party Lord Fritz. My life has been chosen for me.” She let out a long sigh as her chest collapsed down, the wind picked up again and as she breath in the smell once again hit her nose. The pungent, iron scent…called to her as she swallowed hard to pull it back. With so many people at the event, she needed to find some place less crowded…quite. “Regardless of what people want to say or believe, I am the one who needs to look in the mirror. The constant reminder of my disfigurement. On top of all of that I am now subject to remove life from others to spare my own. You may keep your advice for someone who wants it. Until someone is in my position, to know what its like to be ripped from what I could only understand as heaven, To be pulled back to fulfill some sick joke of sparing my parents feelings. My actions may be of my own, but they were fueled by what lurks inside that manor,” her voice deepend slightly.

The comment about the disfigurement puzzled him. True, there were scars, but they did not diminish her beauty in his eyes. She was beautiful despite it, even because of it. Much like kintsugi.

“Most living things take life to sustain their own. Even you did before you died the first time. Unless you secretly knew how to do photosynthesis, I assume you’ve had your share of meat, fruit, vegetables, and yeast.” His fingers traced the veins of his wrist. “Living things can make more blood as long as they live. You don’t have to kill anyone.”

He knew that the conversation had reached an impasse. Lady Damien made it evident that she was unwilling to entertain his words, at least not at present. Maybe if the words came from someone she cared for, it would be different, but not from Ryn, some random stranger. Thus he ended the discussion with, “I may not fully understand what you’re going through, but I’m here to help however I can,” and left it at that for now.

An idea suddenly came to mind and Ryn flashed her a boyish wide grin. “You said you’ve always been a good girl who never did anything wrong, living a boring life. Then, why not be adventurous in this one? Try out new things that you couldn’t before? We could even do something deliciously naughty, like fling eggs at your parents’ house.”

Violet's eyes glanced over at the party. Alexander had made it rather clear to her what she was instructed to do and while she did hold the thoughts in the back of her mind this offer sounded much more exciting.

“What… do you think?” He watched her, hopeful, waiting on her response.

“What do you have in mind?” she flashed a toothy smile, her sharp canines peeking beneath her red stained lips.

The smile that It returned to her was wholly different from the ones which came before. A feral thing, all sharp edges and glinting teeth; a bestial baring of enamel that mirrored the lady’s own wolfish grin.

---

With the masquerade party concluded and his commitments met, Ryn made good on his final promise of the night by introducing Lady Damien to the city’s nightlife. They indulged in the revelry offered by various disreputable establishments—shabby taverns, smoke-filled public houses, and rowdy saloons. Laid wages at a gambling den thick with the reek of desperation, the rattle of dice and the slap of cards punctuated by curses bitten off behind clenched teeth. Using charcoal stubs, they left their mark defacing walls with crude drawings and inscriptions. And they danced. Danced to every music that caught their fancy. Everything Lady Damien had always been curious about but never dared to explore in her previous life because she was a “good girl.”

All the while, Ryn kept a watchful eye out for trouble. Which may be the only reason why he spotted the group of shifty characters who had been tailing them for quite some time. Their sidelong glances and hushed exchanges spoke of opportunistic thieves awaiting just the right moment to make their move upon the unwary pair.

A rather intoxicated Violet giggled off to the side as she clumsily fell into a gentlemen. He had his arm outstretched looming above her head as he gave her a coy smile exchanging words that made Lady Violet's face flush with pink as she attempted to steady herself.

Oblivious to the people that Fritz spotted, Violet took a long sip on her glass as she leaned up against the wall continuing to giggle at a joke that was more then likely not funny.

Deciding it was time to intervene, Ryn approached his inebriated friend. “I think it’s time we call it a night, Violet,” he said. Lady Damien’s protests bubbled forth, giddy and slurred, her cheeks flushed a deep pink, but Ryn held fast. He carefully guided her towards the door and out into the cool night air, his arm securely around her waist, anchoring her against the pull of gravity.

Rather than take the most expeditious path back to the Damien estate, they wove a circuitous route through narrow side streets and dimly lit alleyways. Better to muddy their trail should any unsavory sorts give chase, and the added time afforded a chance for words.

“Well, well,” Ryn began with a playful tone, “who knew you were such a party animal! How was your first taste of the city’s nightlife? Did it live up to your expectations?” Even as the questions left him, he wondered if this night of reckless abandon would ultimately prove cathartic for her or if it would only compound the issues that drove her to seek solace in the first place. Ryn watched her carefully, his hand gently rubbing slow circles on her back when she needed to pause and reorient herself.

Stopping to lean against a stone wall Violet caught her balance. Grinning at Fritz she let out a small giggle. “Better than some horrible masquerade” she adjusted the tail of her gown that she had borrowed from Alexander's wife. Realizing that she would need to go home, at least to find a better change of clothing she frowned. “ I should probably head home…” she said softly in defeat however she had no intention on staying. “Thank you for turning my evening around. You really opened my eyes” she smiled as she attempted to straighten up but ended up falling back into the wall.

Ryn gestured toward the far end of the dimly lit alley. “Worry not, my lady,” he assured her. “Once we exit this passage, home shall be but a stone’s throw away.” With genteel courtesy, the count hooked Lady Damien’s elbow with his own and continued down the uneven cobblestones.

As they emerged onto the gaslit street and her stately manse came into view, Ryn jovially said, “Thank you for allowing me to accompany you tonight. If you ever wish to go on a similar adventure, let me know. I would love to do this again.” He paused, before his voice took on a softer cadence. “And I want you to know that my offer of companionship extends beyond just drinking and dice. If you ever have need of a friendly ear, or a helping hand in finding your killer… you need only send word, Violet. I am but a missive away.”

Ryn’s eyes held hers, willing her to absorb what he just said. “I hope you don’t forget my words this time.” His hand found her arm and patted it.

Violet's red eyes glanced down to his hand that offered her a supportive pat then back to his face unsure if his words were genuine or held some sort of motive behind them. It was as if in her drunken state there was a small part of her still there, the part of her that never died that day. The one that wanted to trust someone.

Forcing a smile she nodded “Thank you…” she said softly as her expression shifted from her giggly state to one more somber as they approached closer to the manor. “...I will keep it in mind.” Her eyes glanced up to the Manor as it came closer in sight. Every time she saw it, she felt as if the world around her was closing in. Nailing her inside of a coffin. It was no longer home.

“I hope you can keep this night between us.” she said, before stopping them just a block from the back gates. “I don’t know who to trust right now…” her voice dropped to nearly a whisper.

Ryn took note of Lady Damien’s curious reaction—she seemed more distressed by her parents’ decision to resurrect her than not knowing who had cut her life short and why. For the time being, he resolved to grant her the space she needed. He trusted that she would seek him out should she decide to accept his offer. With a nod, he acquiesced. “Understood.”

Mischief sparkled in Ryn’s eyes, accompanied by a conspiratorial smile. A finger pressed to his mouth. “I cannot vouch for the other patrons’ discretion, but my lips are sealed. As far as I am concerned, tonight is our little secret. If someone asks about you, I will tell them I saw you returning home.”

In a gesture of gallantry, the count brought Lady Damien’s hand to his lips as he swept into a bow. “I hope to hear from you soon, Violet. Until then, good night, and don’t be a stranger.”

Offering him a smile and a very off balance curtsy, Violet nodded in understanding. “Goodnight Lord Fritz” she smiled before turning her back to him and walking back towards the dreaded manor, pausing she turned back around peering over her shoulder at the man. Flashing another smile, this time showing off her fangs as her lips curved into a playful expression “You’re lucky I don't bite.” Giving him a final nod of her head she turned back around and walked off.

He wished It could say the same.

[PapaOso]

⛮ Milo St. Claire ⛮

Time: Late Morning

Location:Primitus Church of Sorian

Mention:@Tpartywithzombi None of your characters are directly mentioned but I def wanted you to read this xD

In the sanctum of the Primitus Church of Sorian, there hung a masterpiece of regal grandeur. Bathed in the warm glow of afternoon sunlight that poured through the stained glass windows, the portrait of King Edin Danrose stood as a testament to Milo's unparalleled talent, a testament now marred by a grotesque act of defiance.

The king, in the painting at least, was a vision of dignity and sovereignty. Every line had been rendered with such exquisite detail that one could almost hear the rustle of his robes and feel the weight of the crown that rested upon his kingly head. Milo had turned a man such as King Edin into a true work of art, but now, a dark veil had been cast upon this visage of majesty.

Across the king's noble countenance, an affront of crude mockery manifested in the form of a mustache, twisted and mocking…curled like a serpent's sneer. Beneath it, the once pristine lines of Milo's brushwork gave birth to a pair of horns, repulsive markings of defilement etched upon the sacred canvas. His anger did not come from a place of royal worship. He was not livid at the sight of Edin being disrespected by his subjects. The truth was that Mr. St. Claire could not care less about the king, but his painting…HIS MASTERPIECE had been rendered hideous. In that moment, what his perfect hazel eyes beheld was not merely a painting defiled, but an assault upon his very fucking soul.

Reaching out with trembling hands, Milo dared to touch the canvas, his fingertips grazing the tainted strokes of brushed brilliance. But where once he had felt the pulse of his creation, now he found only the chill of desolation. It was as if the very essence of his art had been made asunder, leaving naught but a hollow echo in its wake.

And in that hollow emptiness, sweet and wonderful Milo found fury.

With a primal roar, Milo tore the painting from its perch, the muscles that were well hidden beneath the finery that made up his layered ensemble, coiled with unbridled rage. With his very hands he rended the once masterwork piece of art into pieces, splintering it’s wooden backing and slamming the remains onto the polished floor of this sham of a temple built to worship a counterfeit god. A single tear journeyed down the cheek of Milo St. Claire as he looked upon the wreckage. The fury in his eyes now simply manifesting as sadness.

Taking a long, deep breath and with a roll of the neck and shoulders, Milo gathered himself just in time for footsteps to echo through the chamber. He recognized the cadence with ease. His smile returned as he shifted his body so that he could turn to face the amicable dressed form of his publicist, Mr. Duval

The approaching man’s gaze fell from Milo to the pile of rubble that once was King Edin’s portrait. “Tsk tsk tsk…I almost feel for the poor bastards that would commit such atrocities against you, Mr. St. Claire. Almost.” The man said, his posh voice echoing through the church. “If it pleases you, I can have Ms. Sharpe hunt the culprits down and bring them before you. We could do so publicly…or privately.”

“Thank you as always, Mr. Duval, but that will not be necessary.” Milo stated with a settled grin that exuded kindness. ”Our royal majesty has assured me that the matter will be handled. However, I do require you to send a missive to the King for me, Mr. Duval.”

“Oh, a missive you say? And pray tell, Mr. St. Claire, what would you prefer such a missive to articulate?”

”Tell King Edin that I wish to be there once the vandals are discovered, and that I wish to be present and participate in determining a punishment fit for such a misdeed.”

“As you wish, sir.” Mr. Duval’s lips curled into a curious grin as he made his statement. “But I must ask, Mr. St. Claire… What penance do you have in mind?”

Milo’s smile shined as he walked over and patted Mr. Duval on the back with friendly rapport. ”That, good sir, is just going to have to be my little secret.” He began leading Mr. Duval away from the broken painting and back towards the entrance. “Have Melburn prepare the carriage. As for Ms. Sharpe, have her continue that…other task we discussed upon our arrival to Sorian. She can tell me of her progress later tonight.”

“Right away, sir.” Mr. Duval responded with respect. “And for young Athena and Atlas, what’s your plan for them today?”

“I will not be free for lessons this evening, I’m afraid. Instead, have the apprentices working on their consistency. Send them to the botanical gardens, where they will pick something they find particularly beautiful and instruct them to paint it again and again until the sun sets. We will judge the results another time and present them with points based on individual merit.”

“They would gladly paint day and night if you asked them to, sir…but are you not perhaps expecting too much from them Mr. St. Claire? They are naught but street mutts, after all.”

“I was no less of a street mutt, Mr. Duval…and remember…we must all suffer for our art.”