Zakroti noted her step back away from him. Perhaps that had not been the best way to bring up the subject, but this certainly confirmed it for him- not that he had truly needed much in the way of indication. She was indeed related to Kasari in some way, likely a sister or cousin.

Zakroti found the sudden invocation of Pyrus actually more... Amusing than anything. It was the fire he had expected. He had not quite expected to have death wished upon him right out of the gate but it wasn't entirely shocking either. Doubtless the girl was not quite expecting to be handed to one who had known her sister. He kept himself composed as best he could, the colour returning to his face along with a slightly... Arrogant smirk.

"So let Pyrus come and face me in battle, if he had the bravery and daring to try it. I have not yet killed a god, but it would sit well alongside my other achievements." He jested, darting his hand to the hilt of his sword in mock preparation before with sliding his hand away again with an amused look on his face, his body relaxing. His voice was slightly shaken, but he maintained his composure well enough for now. His moment of amusement subsiding, he glanced off to the side across the hall, eyes darting around curiously to each of the faces around him before turning back to Kasari. He opened his mouth and began to speak "I know th-"

He was cut off by her sudden outburst- and with her next words, his composure was broken again but for a moment. Was she accusing him of murdering Kasari? The cheek of it, after warriors had bled and died fighting that night. Including one of his warriors. And had she just called Miry a snivelling child? The shame of it, had another Drakken dared to say such, he would have had their tongue cut out and cast away into the dirt! How dare she think that she could get away with such an insult.

He could feel the heat radiating off her as she grew increasingly angry with him, could see her fists clenching- and the fury in her eyes! He thought that was part of what was making him so angry, the way she looked at him. It was almost like a challenge, something instinctual inside him wanted to glare at her until she backed down. It wanted deference. His own emotions played off of hers, her anger adding fuel to his own...

Zakroti took a step forwards and leaned in towards her, his face being drawn into a frown and anger burning in his eyes. In that moment the guilt vanished completely, the shame and shock replaced by indignation and offence. He had treated her sisters death with more respect and care than any other Drakken would have... After everything he had done, who was this girl to so falsely accuse him of murder? He had killed men for lesser insults than that.

Then Aurora seemed to try and calm herself somewhat, to regain her own composure. The bowing placated his instincts somewhat, yet although her body and face had relaxed, he could still see the anger inside her eyes.

Peace, he told himself. She had every reason for her wroth, to have lost a sister was devastating to these Gems. He had seen that with Miry, and was it an unreasonable expectation for her to assume that the Drakken who had taken her had a hand in it? Of course not, in her place he would have made the exact same connection - although he liked to think he would not be such a fool as to voice it and threaten his superiors to their faces. Further, this was precisely what he would have expected from her, was it not? Fire was not so easily tamed. This was as much within his nature as his own instinctual desire to subjugate her was. He would not be baited by it so easily. No, he would avoid the trap, and subvert her expectations.

So his expression softened over the following seconds into a more neutral one, his face relaxing and his reptilian eyes fixed on hers as he spoke. He considered each word carefully, and weighed up his options. He would not insult her as she did, he would not threaten her as she threatened him. No, that would only alienate her and weaken his position.

'My crime? I did not harm your sister, let alone kill her. You have fire in your heart indeed to jump to such conclusion without good cause. Nonetheless, I concede explanations are necessary and deserved. I can give you it here if you so desire, although a more private venue might be better. Suffice it to say, the one who killed her is long dead, and the one responsible for this whole affair was struck down and turned a drooling fool by my hand. I avenged your sister." Zakroti said; his voice was calm and careful, to try and hide his indignation. He was eager to cast himself away from the role of a villain; yes, he felt this was to a large degree his fault. Had he refused to allow Aery entry or merely not decided that arming the Gems was the right course of action, none of this would have happened. But he would not be branded a murderer for that minor inadequacy.

Zakroti paused, glancing off to the side for a moment again as he took a step away and turned slightly so that his right side was closer to her. It was disguised as a casual gesture, as idle movement, but this served only to disguise its true nature. If there was one thing he had learnt from that incident the year before, it was that grief stricken Gems and blades made poor bedfellows. While he doubted she would be able to draw it before he stopped her and indeed there was much she could do with it to harm him, it was better not to tempt fate by presenting such an opportunity to her while her judgement was still clouded by anger. He looked back to her as he weighed his options carefully.

"I understand your outburst; any one of these events would be difficult to handle individually, let alone thrown at you together. When we withdraw to my families spare residence here in the city this night, you may interrogate me for every detail of that morning your sister died and I shall answer the best I can. If you find it insufficient or find me at fault, you may throw every curse you like at me, launch whatever other empty threats you desire- vent your anger and hatred and sorrow and so forth. But here in public, I must maintain appearances. Is that a reasonable proposition?" He said, his voice much quieter now to avoid any eavesdropping.

It was a fair offer, by his reckoning. He did not wish to hurt her, but no Drakken could not merely accept tongue lashings from brides, especially not a lord such as himself. This served both their interests far better than insults and bickering ever could; she would answers, he would not be forced to discipline her to save face. Further, both would have had time to collect themselves from this sudden turn of events. He doubted she would be anything near calm, but he felt he at least had a somewhat better chance of getting rational responses out of her than he would have if he tried to explain himself to her now. It was perhaps a long shot, but one he felt preferable to both parties. It was far better than having to choose between his pride and reputation or his hope at convincing her he had not murdered her sister. Aside from his own emotional investment in such, he seriously doubted that having a bride with a vendetta against him would be in any way beneficial...

Lilac eyes had a most peculiar effect of seeming to ice over as Miry stared up at Aurora, gone a bit slack jawed by her.... brash idiocy, throwing hatred right and left and fury indiscriminately, as though disrespect and blind pursuit of misconception somehow earned her their favor. She steeled herself, barely flinching at the "sniveling child" comment, a thousand retorts on her lips that died as Zak stepped closer, speaking calmly against the girl's harsh words, his own fire contained (though barely, at first) within eloquent prose that she could suddenly barely keep coherent in her mind.

Her heart lurched as the memories returned in an unbidden flood, her sister's battered, tortured body, the desperate fear in her eyes and the panic in her breathless words and quaking grasp at the looming shadow in the door-

The blood everywhere, the grief and shock- the wall of too-hard air and steam that she herself had fallen into, a fox caught in her own trap under the weight of disbelief. The minor explosion of pressurized air and steam, designed a subtle trap by both sisters to keep Aery's husband from the room, instead went off as Miry too lost all focus, shredding clothing and skin indiscriminately from the tiny water gem's back and shoulders and all but flinging her to the floor, face-down into a pool of her sister's- and sister-bride's- blood...

She forced herself out of the thought, a barely audible gasp escaping her as she forced her eyes wide, tiny bits of ice crackling and tinkling off of her face as she struggled to open her eyes through the crystals that had formed with the instinctively-welling tears. Her hands clenched into shaking fists as she sized up the situation once more, feeling the fool for letting the memories seize her unbidden like that. The scars on her back- tiny, barely-visible scars like a million papercuts- were tingling and stinging as they ever did when she thought of it, but she fought against it, standing stock-still as she tried to take stock of the situation and catch up with what had been said. Had Zak managed to put out, or at least contain, the flames for once?

Zak had turned so his sword was angled slightly away from Aurora, his body tense and seeming to guard the hilt somewhat. No doubt he was reliving what had happened the last time one of the brides had gotten a blade...

Miry stepped up on that side, stepping perhaps a bit closer to Aurora than need be, and schooled her face into the blankest, softest expression she could as she stepped closer, regarding the other girl as evenly as possible (considering her eyes only came up to about the base of the other girl's ribs.) Her sadness was barely concealed in her gaze as she murmured, scarcely above a whisper, "Peace, child of Pyrus. You are not the only one to have lost her sister that night. You are not the one who still bears scars of it. So- Trust. The matter is not what you think it is."

It must have been a strange sight, the frost still crackling off her face, eyes vaguely unfocused and full of unspoken words she wished she had time to say. But even what she had just said was perhaps too much- she might have just provoked yet another tongue-lashing, or even physical violence. Her eyes flicked back to Zak and she finally bowed her head again, murmuring an apology to him as she stepped back a pace behind him once more and resumed her submissive posture, arms moving to guard her lower midsection out of instinct.

Gwillim came back to the present, more or less, as Hestia introduced herself. He was quite glad Scyrvensrel was taking a liking to the gem, and pleased that they hadn't gotten the runt of the reaping. He gladly agreed to the proposed shopping trip, though it was likely he'd dip out for a time and catch up to them before the end of the day. He did not take pleasure in hearing the gem's protests. He kept his hand on Scyrvensrel's should as he bent down enough to put his head just behind Hestia's nearest ear. His voice was quite, soft, and cold as a sudden draft in a barrow, or light breeze in a foggy grave yard.

“If indeed you wish to avoid trouble gemling, you'll not deny my wife again. If she wants to take you shopping, then the only being alive with a chance of stopping her is me; and even I try not to cross her without due cause. If you remember nothing else of tonight Hestia, remember to never cross my wife, upon thy life.”

Gwillim rose back to his full height, careful not to graze the pretty thing with his horns and resumed gently sandwiching the girl between himself and his mate. He noticing that some of the gems were a bit noisier in their complaints than Hestia had been, and wondered how many of them would still be able to scream come morning. He decided it would be best for them to with draw, lest some lesser lordling get jealous and try to pry Hestia away, not that he'd succeed, but the necessary bloodshed might embitter the doomed souls relative into a feud that would only serve to distract Gwillim from his current goals. He turned slowly, using gentle pressure from his arm to tell Scyrven where he was going, without having to say anything. He kept his eyes and ears on the thinning crowd mostly, though he was careful to maintain constant contact with both his mate and their new bride.

Back at the Gunnvaldr estate, he and Scyrven were welcomed warmly by the family and congratulated by many cousins, uncles, aunts, nieces and nephews, all of whom introduced themselves by first name to the gem bride tucked safely between the couple. Alfhildr danced around the pair not quite sure what to make of Hestia just yet, and though she was a tad jealous of all the attention she was getting. Still, the girl looked so ... fragile. How could she be of any use to her father where her own mother could not? She almost made the mistake of asking public, but, caught her self in time with the aid of stern look from Gwillim who had caught her expression and guessed at her thoughts. Alfhildr recovered by welcoming Hestia to her family, politely, though the child's eyes carried a hint of challenge still. A small feast of light foods and weak, if flavorful, ales and wines was served. Both Gwillim and Scyrven had fights in the morning, as well as one of the older cousins. The family would not risk their abilities tomorrow with wanton excesses this night.

Retiring to their bed chamber, a low but surprisingly comfortable bedroll had been made with silk sheets and two down pillows, also covered in silk. It was set at the foot of Gwillim and Scyrven's bed. Gwillim noticed it upon entering the room, and nodded, finally breaking contact with both his wife and bride, as he moved to the corner of his room where the stand for his armor stood waiting. He began removing his armor, talking as he went.

“Hestia, be a good lass and help Scyrven out of her armor. ... Dearest, what takes priority; our lovely bride or tomorrows tourney matches? Though, if my first day of matches was any indicator we could easily be up half the night or more and suffer no loss or harm come daylight. What say you? A bit of fun before bed, or shall we save the fun for when we are away from prying ears and eyes?"

The population of the hall had nearly halved by the time all of the girls were delivered. The few pockets of drakken who remained behind were familiar faces at the reaping. Those who had brides to spare, and, occasionally, those who had something to gain from those who lingered.

“Another year, another reaping that keeps all your biggest threats properly sated for the time being. Good job brother,” Ehkota had appeared alongside his brother and niece, keeping a careful eye on the Kinner and his new bride. The night seemed to be progessing peacefully. Almost suspiciously so. But he wasn't about to complain, not dealing with messes caused here gave him more time to deal with his own projects.

“Well, I think I’ll retire for the night, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle any scuffles brother. I have a new toy that needs to be played with” without giving the High Prince the breath to argue, he vanished into one of the side halls, careful to take a round-about way to his destination, less his pesky niece decided to make herself more of a hindrance than usual.



The room that the Gem had been delivered too was one among many that were hardly ever used in the stadium. At one point it might have been a medical facility or the original rooms used by drakken who lacked estates in the capital. Today, the rooms were mostly used by those who lacked the will power to make it back to their own holdings before ravishing their brides.

A few moments after Adorabella was left, the door open again. A tall, androgynous Gem entered the room. Her dark hair was cropped short and her clothing loose. Only tightening around her stomach where an obvious bump was starting to form. Across her shoulder was a large bag. The guard that followed her in stood as a hulking shadow by the door, hand gripping the hilt of his weapon as though expecting enemies to attack at any moment.

“There isn’t much time,” said the Gem quickly unwinding her pack and setting it on the bed. “My husband said that there would only be a few minutes to, well, get you ready,” The girl reached out a hand and gently held Adorabella's face, turning it from side to side before reaching into the bag on the bed and pulling out a tiny paint brush and small bottle. “We are lucky that there is very little you need appearance wise,”

“Tell me, how experienced are you with men?” The girl seemed to be pleased with her adjustments to Adorabella’s face and put away the little brush and paint, now looking the girl in the eyes. “From my understanding, my husband selected you because you had little problem with spending the day naked at Castle Shadow Worth. That's not something a shy girl would have survived. So, speak quickly.”



The heals of the prince's boots echoed around the hallway, matched only my the sound of screams, grunts and moans coming from the rooms as they past. There was precious little time left, but he had known it was going to be tight from the start.

The prince was soon joined by his most trusted guards. The few he had selected himself and knew to be loyal to him before the crown. Efren, his best fighter, was with his pregnant wife, the keeper of his heir. He called her Twen. His twentieth and oldest bride. If she had a name beyond that, it was unknown to him. Originally, he had bothered to learn the names of his wives, but they had the unfortunate habit of falling out of high windows once their pregnancies became known. Which was why Efren had become Twen’s near constant shadow. This left Efren’s brother Declan as his go to.

" You know who to watch, Declam. If they try to leave before me, stall them," The Prince then added, his voice caring a light agitation. " If you must fight him, let him win, if he gets injured, than all of this will be for nothing,"

"As you wish, M'lord," with that, the drakken guard vanished, heading back to the main hall.

The time between their collection from the baths and the arrival to the capital was an absolute blur. Zeldria vaguely remembered being shoved into her room once again, this time finding a garment laid out on the bed and being order to dress herself in it. Brief inspection revealed it to be an evening gown, sewn mostly from black fabric but with some silver accents here and there, extending down to her ankles and leaving her shoulders bare. She remembered thinking the black was fitting- it was like she was headed to a funeral for her old life. Or perhaps it would be one for all of her lives.

She had no time to dwell on such thoughts, however. As soon as she was dressed she was marched out of the room and down to join the rest of the brides to be. They exited the fortress the same way they had entered, a time that seemed eons previously. The trip to the capital passed in speed and silence for her. Where other Gems filled it with tears, jitters, and worries, Zel retreated inside her own head, trying to find what little solace she could. But, before she could gather much beyond a shred, she was being paraded through the Drakken streets to the reaping feast.

Before much time had passed, she and another Gem were seized by a guard's iron grip and nearly dragged forward, until they came to a stop before a tall, lean, and somewhat gangly Drakken with pale skin and long, black hair. The guard addressed him as Beastmaster and seemed to rather mock the man with his bows and obviously feigned praise before savagely shoving them both forward. Zel took several stumbling steps before managing to catch herself and straighten up. The Drakken- her new husband, she corrected herself mentally, looked them up and down, seeming to linger slightly longer on her scarlet hair, before posing some questions to them.

“My name is Sera Makatza” said the other Gem, speaking first.

"And mine is Zeldria," she said in turn, bowing her head forward slightly as a sign of respect that required little space, "And it is as you say, fire is the element I was born to."

"The guard referred to you as Beastmaster," she said, "Am I correct in presuming that you're a hunter of sorts, then?"






The Reaping Feast was always something of a droll occasion. Feasting, fighting, the clashing of egos and zealotry- everything that could be asked for in a large Drakken gathering, truly. Wilhelm actually found himself bemused by all the spectacle, in spite of himself. He sipped at a glass of dark red wine that might have been mistaken for blood depending on the light as he glanced about his surroundings, occasionally raising it in respect to some of the older Drakken he saw who he respected. Then, at last, the doors of the hall swung open wide and the procession entered.

In spite of his attempts to maintain his composure at all times, even Wilhelm found himself hungrily eying the Gems up for grabs this year. The Reapers could be disparaged in many ways, but their eye for suitable brides was not one of them. Unfortunately, it was not up to him to pick his own brides. Unless of course he sought to challenge another Drakken for one, but that was a tactic for younger, stupider Drakken. No, he would not debase himself so. Not in front of the Princes and Princess who would be deciding which among them would be ruling Drakka all too soon.

It was then that one of the guards approached him, two Gems in his hands. One was slightly taller with dark black hair. The other featured blonde wavy hair and, he noted, was still maturing physically. Not that it deterred him; she would grow into herself, and he was patient.

"Finally?" he asked in reproach of the guard's remark, "These are far from my first brides you halfwit. Still, do convey that the Crown may always rely on my sword to be raised in Drakka's best interest. On your way, if you please."

As the guard hurried off, Wilhelm found himself relatively alone with his two acquisitions. One of them, the blonde one, had closed her eyes in desperation as she'd been dragged forward, and as he stepped forward to examine her she opened them. There was a glint of surprise in her gaze, he noticed, as she looked on him.

"Were you expecting a drunken savage?" he asked, "A half-beast drenched in drool, perhaps? Hmph."

He extended his hands forward, placing an index finger under each girl's chin and lifting their faces to look up at him. His gaze traveled over each of their faces in turn, like a hawk's might drift over a rabbit's, taking in every detail. Mostly, he looked into their eyes and what shone therein. Would he find defiance? Despair? Or had the light gone out, their time in Shadow Worth having drained it from them and leaving only quiet acceptance behind? It seemed too early to tell, for both.

It was then that the blonde spoke. "Hello Milord. It is a pleasure to meet you,"

"Is it now?" he replied, "We will see if that is true in due time. I am Wilhelm, as you both no doubt heard. You will refer to me as milord or lord husband. For now, you will tell me your names, your elemental skill, and what sort of place you come from."

His tone made it clear he would brook no refusal.

His finger on her chin was cold, to match his disposition it seemed. But she didn't mind cold. Cold could mean indifference which meant he wouldn't pay much attention to her. And maybe being cold meant he didn't have an explosive temper? She could only hope.

"My name is Amalia milord. I was born at Solair Keep on the Emerald Coast of Gemmia. It was a beautiful place, the gardens rich and the sea seemed to sparkle in the sunlight."

A true smile came to Amalia's face as she spoke of the sea. After a moments pause she continued quickly. "I am an Earth Gem. I can help things grow, manipulate small quantities of various kinds of earth and animals are calm around me. I mean, I seem to just... know what they need and they are drawn to me. Forgive my reaction to you milord. After what we have seen I was apprehensive. Oh, I'm so sorry," Amalia said suddenly and cast her eyes down. "I am rambling. I do not mean to cause offense.

Her eyes would show uncertainty. For that was what she truly feared : the unknown. If one knew what to expect they could adjust their behavior accordingly for a better outcome. But the unknown meant you could not predict what may happen, which actions were right and which would cause offense. Amalia had found that out the hard way. Her feet still pained her from the punishment for an action that she thought was right.

She could only pray that Wilhelm, her lord husband, was more patient and reasonable than the Drakken she had met so far. His words were articulate and showed intelligence. His clothing showed an attention to detail and an appreciation for cleanliness. In a strange way, such things gave her hope.

A young woman entered the room in a rush. Adorabella was a bit nervous at first, put on edge with concern with the need for haste. She felt the weight of the bag upon the bed, shifting her position there only slightly. The girl had not even introduced herself before speaking about what the plan was. Adora nodded her understanding. "Alright. Do you know where I am going? What exactly is going on? I'm feeling a little hesitant without any direction. I am fairly certain that this is not the normal procedure here." She let the girl handle her face, moving as directed so she could use the little brush to paint her up. The brush tickled her sensitive, bronzed skin and she tried hard not to laugh. She smiled a bit at the compliment. "Why thank you, I do try to take care of myself." She spoke in a haughty yet joking way, trying to lighten the mood of the room. She found it much easier to be chipper when she felt there was someone else in need of cheering up. It also meant not being stuck with the circling thoughts in her head.

At the next question Adora stiffened and then laughed. It was a bright and cheerful laugh. She wondered if it would be the last time she would do so. "Oh, my little darling. My experience with men is perhaps much more than any lady should speak on. You could say I am well versed. As for my nakedness during our training period - it was forced upon me. I could not let them see my fear. Besides, there is beauty in the naked form." Her fingers idly played with the fabric of the long belt. This would be her power. Something that helped her through. She would always wear it. Her eyes then found the tell-tale sign of pregnancy. "Oh, congratulations! How far along are you? Is this your first?" she inquired. Adora's fingers instinctively reached out to touch the bump but she did not have permission. This poor thing had likely been touched quite enough. "I'm Adorabella by the way. May I have your name?"





She stiffened as she felt her husband lean down and begin to whisper to her. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth, resting her fingers there as if she were afraid any sort of sound would get her in trouble. She winced, feeling his warm breath against her neck and the back of her ear. She had never been this close to another person before and she shivered. Once the Drakken straightened and looked up at him tearfully and nodded. Perhaps she should just not speak? Perhaps that would be best, yes. The less she got into trouble the better. But knowing how stupid she could be Hestia imagined there would be quite a few beating in her future before she learned her lesson.

Hestia allowed herself to be steered and moved about like a doll. It was amazing how quickly the Drakken moved - being so much taller than Hestia. (Though she was not exactly short for a Gem.) The way back to her new home was a blur and entering the home was chaos and commotion. Drakken, all much taller than she, were coming up to introduce themselves. It was so quick and there were so many that Hestia was overwhelmed. She found herself grabbing onto Scyrvensrel's hand to keep steady. Her head was feeling a bit dizzy and she tried her best to remember all of their names. In particular there was the daughter, excited and perhaps unsure of the new bride. Hestia wasn't sure how she felt about the child either since the girl could likely kill her with a pinky. And, true to children, would test the new bride.

During dinner, she had not remembered a single name. Not even her new husband and wife. She ate daintily, glad of the bland and light foods available. Each bite seemed to turn her stomach but she did not want to give offense. So dutifully she ate little bits here and there. At the giving ceremony she had done quite enough damage. She drank what was offered to her, though it made her head swim more. A light flush had come over her cheeks and her memory a bit foggy.

At long last the feast ended and she followed her spouses up to their bedroom. At Gwillim's behest she began the process of helping Scyrven remove her armor. It was not something she had ever done before, but her thin, nimble fingers made quick work of knots. She wasn't sure but it seemed the room was darkening. Was someone turning out lights? She swayed on her feet and had to place a hand against the bed to steady herself. The other went to her forehead which even she felt was overly warm. Was the floor moving? Wait... "Please... forgive me...." she whispered as she collapsed against the bed and slid to the ground in a faint.

Am I your first bride?

You are

It’s a rare thing for a Kinner to acquire one of your kind

The more the drakkan spoke, the more Bree wished he would just stay silent. He wasn’t cruel, not in the way that she could see other drakken were. He wasn’t chaining her or yanking her or making her do anything humiliating. If anything, she supposed, he was being kind.

Kagan did bring up a point of something she’d never considered and that was the cost of a Gem. The reaping always just was, but if the killing of a great drakken was the value of a bride, then what would he have to do to get a second? Bree tried to size Kagan up with the larger drakken. While tall, he wasn't as broad as some of the monsters in the room. But that didn't mean he didn't know how to fight. After all, he had won her? Hadn't he? But he also said that he killed the crippled and broken. So, was the murder--Kinning of the 'great drakkan' a fluke or could he do it again?

They whole concept of a Kinner phased Bree very little, after all, he was only killing drakken. She did struggled to follow was how she played any role in it at all. But it obviously made sense to Kagan, as his hand found its way to her shoulder, trying his best to explain the honor she brought. The whole movement felt awkward, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

“You are very gracious,” she said finally, her eyes flashing briefly to his hand. “I’m sure it will be lovely,”

She felt, rather than watched him struggle to find a place to hold her. Catching his hand softly as he re-positioned again, she pushed it towards her wrist. Short of holding hands, it seemed like the least awkward placement.

At the same moment she thought she heard Ardens voice, turning her head sharply towards the sound, she expected to see the girl standing there. But the space beside her remained empty.

Just the breeze

It was probably for the best, it was foolish to have befriended the girl. Arden would only draw her mind away from the goal. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she felt a hollow guilt enter her stomach.

“There is no one I need speak to,” she said finally, before she could changed her mind. “If you are ready to go, I should probably mention that the drakken that brought me to you said ah 'Tell your husband to enjoy the feast if he must, but it’d be best if he...hurried back to his accommodations,”

A tiny quiver shot through Bree’s body as the thought about what returning to Kagan’s accommodations would mean for her. For as little as the man seemed to know what to do with her body now, his ending statement gave her a pretty clear idea about what he wanted to do.

Or perhaps he was just that careless with his words. But if she ever stood any chance of seeing Allie again, sex was probably the best way to convince him to see things her way.





The young woman looked rather irritated by Adorabella’s light attitude towards the situation. Her face hardening with every word the girl spoke. “I have no idea where you are going. Nor do I really care. I was told to come down here, so I did. I was told to fix you up, so I am. And I was told to instruct you on the finer things of the bedroom, which I will,”

The moment Adorabella mentioned the pregnancy, the guard at the door shifted. “Be silent,” he growled, as though her very words were a threat to the unborn child.

The girl on the bed shifted, “Names would be a waste of time, as I doubt I’ll ever need yours again, or you mine,” Reaching up she gently, but firmly, push Adorabella back onto the bed. ” Even now, I suspect our time is together is down to minutes,” Climbing on top of the girl, she spoke softly. “ I don’t know why my husband asked me to come here. Or why he thought I’d be able to make something out of you so quickly. But I’ll give you some advice. If your husband wants you to be ashamed of your body, you better act ashamed. I know you’ll have a sister-bride, my advice there is to use her as well, drakken men seem to like that sort of stuff. If-” But whatever else the girl was going to say was cut short by the door slamming open for the third time.

”Change of plans, we leave now,” Said Ehkota, gesturing his bride off with a careless flick of the wrist. ”Fe, take Twen back to my room. And get her looser clothing,” he growled, glaring at his wife, before grabbing Adorabella by the wrist.

Nadia's fun was over quickly, as soon a guard called for the girls to all leave the springs. She at first thought that she'd completely lost track of the time, but as she climbed out of the pool, with the help of one of the other splashing Gems, she heard someone call out that they'd only been there an hour or so. Nadia couldn't see the girl who'd spoken, but it didn't matter, because the guard continued to speak to the whole room as soaked Gems ran for their towels.

Our husbands... It's that time already? She wrapped her own towel about herself, trying to hide the shape of her form from the leering guards she had to walk past as the Gems were all shuffled back to their rooms. They would be given some time to get dressed for the 'wedding', and then it was off to the Drakkan Capitol... She couldn't even remember its name now, if she'd ever been told it in the first place. When she got to her room she was shivering from the cold of the Castle's halls. She lit the fire in the hearth, the same as she had the first night she'd come here, and for the first time she finally opened the chest that her father had packed for her.

On top was a gown she knew well- a gold and red silken thing that brought tears to her eyes as she gently lifted it out of the chest. This was to be her wedding gown- her mother had showed her how to make all of its parts, but everything about this dress, Nadia had created herself. She began to put it on delicately, as if the fabric it was made of was a thin film of glass, although she knew better. The heavy silk was comfortable, and lovely yet durable. Her favorite type of fabric. Every stitch, from the seams to the hems and all the embroidery on the front panel, every stitch had been made to last, even though she knew she herself would probably only wear it once in her lifetime.

"I only wish that this wasn't it." She said to her reflection in the mirror that was now standing in the corner of the room. As she struggled to tie up the laces (The sleeves were just a little bit too long for her still- she had been meaning to fix that weeks ago...) she actually looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised at how... how much older the dress alone made her look. Certainly she was no child- at 18 she had curves in all the right places and was almost the average height of any Gemmenite woman- but the dress seemed to remove the rest of the child’s likeness from her. Her face and shoulders, normally so rounded and narrow to make her look almost 16, were now made by the dress to give her an air of grace and fragility. The collar dipped down just enough to accent her chest without showing too much, and the way the sleeves flared out made it so her waist seemed even narrower than it would with just the laces tied as they were.

She looked stunning, and the only ones going to see her like this were strangers and Drakkan. Her mother was on the other side of the mountains now, her father somewhere between here and there, and she was about to be going into the belly of the beast. She watched as a few tears began to fall down her reflection's cheeks, before turning away to look through the rest of the chest her father had packed for her.

The next thing she saw was one of her mother's necklaces. Nadia had never been one to wear jewelry, and neither had her mother really, but as she clasped the necklace around her throat she felt like she would never take it off ever again. The red jewels gleamed against her fair skin, and the metal which should have felt cool instead had an almost happy warmth to it, a Loving warmth. As if her mother had known how she'd be feeling right now, and had put her very essence into the Jewels. She let her fingers brush over the deep red, feeling how smooth and perfect they were for a moment, and wishing that just wearing them could make her just as flawless.

If she were perfect, like this, would she be treated well? Her reflection looked hopeful, and she wasn't about to be the one to tell that girl "No".

Nadia lingered in front of the mirror for only a moment longer, tying up her now- dry hair into a bun, purposefully leaving a few strands loose to frame her face. Once that was done, she looked through the rest of the chest, finding a pair of slippers to match her gown, and three other, less fancy dresses that she could wear later, hopefully. There were no books or papers, trinkets or other baubles for her, except for a small, long metal cylinder engraved with the words "For Nadia, My Light." written in her father's script. Turning the strange item over in her hands a few times, she heard a knock on the door.

A Drakkan guard poked his head in, and after just looking at her for a moment he grunted, "Ten minutes, then to the carriages wit' ya. Hurry it up girlie."

"O-okay." She managed to say just as he closed the door again.She slipped the item into her right-hand pocket, and the action made her remember the one thing she couldn't ever allow herself to lose. She fished the idol of Pyrus out of the pocket of the Grey trousers she'd been wearing up until bathtime, and transferred it into the left-hand pocket of her gown. There it sat perfectly invisible to everyone but her, as she could feel the small lump against her hip as she walked to the door.

The Guard was still standing there sourly as she pushed it open, but his frown seemed to lessen as he saw her step out of the room. "Finally I get one tha' doesn't put up a fuss." He motioned her down the hall, presumably towards the carriages that would take her to her doom. "I'll bring yer stuff for you. Just get there before the boss comes huntin' people down." She nodded silently and followed the slow trickle of Gems to the place, getting into one of the large carriages as they all began filling up.

The ride was much shorter than the one to the worth had been, but it felt so much longer. She and the 9 or 10 other girls in the carriage spent the whole time in silence. The excuse Nadia told herself was simply that there didn't seem to be anything to talk about- but she knew that she at least was only being so quiet out of either grief or fear. Or both.

Eventually, they arrived. The girls were ushered off the carriages, and then they had only a minute before they were all marched into a room full of Drakken dressed in either finery or war armor- it didn't seem like there was any in-between. The Prince from their first day at Shadow Worth addressed this crowd, and then one by one the girls were dragged off by various Drakkan to be given to various other Drakkan.

Nadia froze as the Prince motioned for her to follow him. The guard that came up behind her had to poke her before she could snap out of it and start walking alongside the other girl that had been motioned to. They were led to an older-seeming Drakkan, and then just as suddenly as everything else had happened so far, they were left at this new Drakkan's side.

He was, Terrifying. Everything about this was terrifying. Nadia glanced at her now sister-bride, and seeing that she also seemed speechless, decided that she herself had better say something before bad could happen. She clasped her hands in front of her, bowing her head before opening her mouth. "M-my Lord Husband, I- My name is Nadia. It is... nice to meet you." She kept her head bowed as she waited for a response, waiting in suspense to know just what now lay in her future.

---

Onyx pulled herself out of the Springs as she was ordered to, and marched down the halls with the rest of the girls without a fuss. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was numb, or if the shock of it all was so bad she couldn't even tell if she was putting on her dress correctly. A quick glance in the mirror said she was, of course, and after brushing out her hair and braiding it over her shoulder to dry during the trip, she was ready.

Walking down the halls to the carriages, she noticed that her dress was much more plain than any of the other's that she saw. Short sleeves left her arms mostly exposed, while the simple brown and white skirt only covered down to her knees, and she was wearing her same slippers that she'd been wearing this whole time- which she now realized was a very cold style, as the wind felt like it was cutting through her otherwise bare legs as she cut across the courtyard to get into a carriage. She read during the trip, same as she had during her last long, unpleasant carriage ride.

At their destination, she was grabbed by a guard and then dragged over to a Drakkan that looked well put-together, as opposed to the many Drakken she could see around them that looked, well, put together. Glancing at her Sister-Bride now, Onyx hoped that she was also a daughter of Vivari. The two being Earth Gems would make it so much easier to support each other, if fate would allow them such a thing.

Before she could say anything, their husband began to speak. "Were you expecting a drunken savage?" he asked them, "A half-beast drenched in drool, perhaps?"

Well yeah. Were you expecting a pair of pretty little pets to drag along with you by a chain? Onyx didn't dare say so out loud, though she knew her self-control would only last so long as he continued. He placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him, which she didn't resist. She listened as her Sister-Bride spoke up, and as he responded. "I am Wilhelm, as you both no doubt heard. You will refer to me as milord or lord husband. For now, you will tell me your names, your elemental skill, and what sort of place you come from."

He was concise, and obviously would not accept anything less from them than what he explicitly asked of them. Onyx could respect that. As Amalia answered him, Onx reached up and held his hand, gently moving his finger from its place under her chin as she moved to hold it just over her heart, but keeping her gaze locked on him all the while. Once it was her turn to speak she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

"I am Onyx, from the blessed town of Pyrvi- a mostly quiet place in the western woods of Gemmenia, where I assisted my Father with running the town's library. I also am of the Earth, I am good at working with plants, but not any animals- unless the fairies count." She smiled slightly and waited to hear her husband's opinion on their answers.

---

Gold eaters. The lot of them. Keregar was still not quite over the slight Zakroti dealt him in turn. To cower behind guards was the least honorable thing a Drakkan could do. And to guard someone who just paid you fancy gold coins was only slightly less. Was there no more honor in this wretched city? Have Drakkan truly begun to sell themselves as slaves for whatever metal shined the most? If so, his race was surely doomed. In the end, he knew he didn’t want to die at the hand of a something that he would forever refuse to call a Drakkan and a bunch of gold eaters. So he left but not before saying: “I hope we never meet on the sands.” A fool, a lesser Drakkan would take it as a victory. Thinking Keregar was afraid of him. Nothing was less true.

He hoped he would never have to see the little Drakkan boy again. Yet here he was, receiving a bride. Unlike some, Keregar had chosen to wear armor. A sign of his status as Warlord. The blackened chest piece was a testament to his age. The slain head of a horned beast yet unnamed beast hung on his shoulders covering one pauldron and torn fur cloak finished it off. He turned his attention to Prince Gaelnesh and his speech. A fire, a primal fire got ignited when his mind went towards the fresh monuments and the story his father told about the Anathos war. To the victor comes the spoils, he silently agreed. Then the Crown Prince approached him. “They will get their brides when they are ready.” Keregar simply answered. Though inside he felt proud of his son’s accomplishments. A light in an ever darkening future. At least he could die knowing he left behind a few true Drakkan. His eyes turned towards the gems. Observing them for a moment. One had apparently chosen for a rather formal wear. Though in Gem fashion. It was almost disgustingly civilized. Even her hair, instead of being wild and free and fierce was tied together in a bun. Truly a testament to how docile Gems were. Her hair though, her hair drew Keregar. Fiery red. It was not that common and that he knew. Finally her jewels demanded his gaze. The deep red gems looked much fiercer than the girl wearing them. Then he turned his attention to the brunette. She wore a dress as well. Though it would appear the first bride had put a bit more effort in his appearance. The second one looked a bit older, though not that much. Still, both would do. It was about time he got a new bride too. Sorrak’s Sanctuary had gone abandoned just a little too long.

Keregar turned to his prince once more. “It would be an honor to fight alongside you in a glorious war again.” Keregar answered. He knew that Gaelnesh was his better. The crown prince had earned that right and honor. He was one of the few Keregar would want to die by. But not now. His blood was still yearning for the thrills of battle. “I prefer to think that Drun has still a destiny for me.” He answered with a malicious grin. Yes, he wanted a war now above all else. A worthy war though. There were too many pesky things skittering around the world that he could kill. Yet he would never call that war.

Gaelnesh continued on with his duty, leaving Keregar with his two brides. One decided to speak yet she was not asked. Though she didn’t seem to do it out of defiance. The little gem knew at least to bow before him. Obedience was a good trait in Gems. Though it could get dull over time. If they managed to live long enough. Nadia, she was called apparently. Not a bad name. Though just like the girl it lacked edge. He kept silent, letting the gem stay bowed as he observed her like one would observe a piece of meat. “Look up, bride.” He said with his heavy voice. “I am Keregar. Warlord of Kereg-Kor. That name and place does not mean much too you, I imagine. But in time you will call it home.” But it would never be truly home. He knew that and if the Gems were smart enough, they would know it as well. Home was back beyond the Spire and they would never return. If they tried, well Kereg-Kor was filled with the greatest hunters of every generation. They slaughtered beasts several times their own size that were born, raised and survived in the very hostile lands around the fortress. What chance would a bunch of fleeing, foreign Gems have? He turned his gaze towards the other Gem. “What is your name. Tell me about yourself. Both of you.” He should at least know who his brides were.

Even though their time at the hot springs had been short, Lienna had taken advantage of it nonetheless. She had been to hot springs a few times at home, where they spouted from the frozen mountains. She had always thought of them as a gift from Naia to her Northern children. The unique smell of the water and the softness it lent to the skin were familiar, but as it enveloped her, she couldn't help but feel as if she were in the presence of strangers. Not just the many naked Gems around, nor the leer-eyed guards along the edges; no, whereas she could feel the gentle touch of Naia in the springs at home, she didn't feel her presence here. It was hard to tell if there was a different presence, or if it was just the lack of one that felt so alien. Nonetheless, Lienna could tell that Naia could barely reach her here, and it unsettled her.

She'd managed to get herself scrupulously clean, wasting little time basking in the warmth and instead focusing on her skin and hair. By the time the guards cut their bathing short, she was already finished. On her way out, she saw a few obvious water gems whisking the water away from their skin with fluid motions. Lienna did the same, but her movements were quick and precise: she flung one arm out, as if throwing off a cloak, and all the water on her flew off with enough force to audibly slap against the stone wall beside her. She left her hair down, as opposed to braiding it like usual, so it would dry pin-straight, falling to her waist.

Upon returning to her chamber, she found a dress laid out for her. Unlike the grey tunics from before, this was a delicate, beautiful thing, made from layers of sheer white linen and lace. With it was a rich brown sash which shone a bit in the light. Beautiful as it was, the dress was so foreign - it felt alien on her skin, and light and airy on her lean frame, a stark contrast from the furs and leathers she'd been wearing all her life. Lienna couldn't help but remark that this dress would freeze her to death in minutes back home.

Yet, despite its oddities, Lienna couldn't help but admire herself in the dull mirror provided for her. The dress fit loosely, but it did wonders accentuating her curves nonetheless. It made her look like the other Gems at Shadow Worth, with their delicate features and grace. Her furs, as attached as she was to them, were not known for flattering the body.

A ghost of a smile wafted over her face. If finery like this was what awaited her, perhaps she could find beauty in her new life.



Lienna had not been excited to get back into the carriage, but she wasn't so rash as to disobey. Still, she had spent the entire ride to the capital with her knees tucked to her chest and her face as close to the window as possible, doing her very best to steady herself through the waves of sickness that washed over her every time the carriage hit a bump.

She was actually thankful when they arrived, forgetting for a moment her purpose in her relief at stepping out of the carriage. The air in the capital was cold and damp, a combination which was actually quite foreign to Lienna (seeing as the air up north was dry enough to cut skin, as the saying went). She could hear a distant pattering, like hail, but softer. Stranger still, the ground was sandy and warm. Drakka grew ever more odd the longer she stayed there; it was as if the elements were confused without their divine masters to guide them.

Soon the Gems were led in a procession to where their future husbands awaited, tall and looming over them, with hard eyes and an air of savagery, like hungry mountain lions in wait. Lienna kept her gaze decidedly forward and her head high, sparing barely a glance at the leering onlookers as they were led on. As she passed under a torch, her skin briefly reflected the yellow light as if it were covered in frost, the light bouncing off in pinpricks like tiny crystals.

It wasn't long before girls were plucked from the line and half-dragged (or in some cases, entirely dragged) to their new masters. She even saw one girl whose keeper had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop her from shrieking. Lienna couldn't help but glare disapprovingly; such a scene was not only unbecoming of a Gem, but also as stupid as it was fruitless - she was only making things harder for herself.

The one who came for Lienna was a female, much taller than herself but not as large as most of the males she'd seen. She carried herself with the sort of swagger that came from either cockiness or status, and with Drakken it was impossible to tell which. However, she was dressed well and wore a great adornment on her head, so she guessed at the latter. She grabbed Lienna by the arm, not gently but not violently, and Lienna followed obediently, but not fearfully, as she was taken to her fate.

That wasn't to say Lienna was without fear. Quite the contrary, fear swirled in her gut like a gathering gale. But she steadied herself nonetheless. She willed the ocean inside her to calm. Water does not fear a coming cliff, but rushes for it.

Her keeper stopped in front of a pair, a Drakkan male and a squirrely little gem. The Drakkan was tall, like the rest, but rather more lean than some of the others. Lienna dared only a quick glance at his face, and was mildly pleased to find that he was half-decently attractive. To her, he looked young, but she knew Drakken did not age the same way Gems did. Still, he seemed to take good care of himself and Lienna supposed that was all she could have hoped for.

She did become more apprehensive, however, when she got a good look at his existing bride. The poor thing looked like she hadn't slept in days, and (most importantly) had... was that a leash?

Indeed, around her waist was tied a thin silver chain, which would have looked like fine jewelry had the other end not been held in the Drakkan's grip. Was this how she would be treated? Like some sort of dog that needed to be tethered? And what about the poor girl's condition? Had her husband been denying her sleep, or was she haunted by harsh treatment?

A stone formed in Lienna's gut, for she did not know.

In her examination of the pair, Lienna had missed the brief conversation between her keeper and her new husband and being pushed to him caught her off guard. She stumbled, only for a second, and regained her posture with as much grace as she could muster. She kept her eyes forward, not down but certainly not up at her husband's face. It took a lot of willpower to tear her eyes away from her new sister-bride's chain.

As soon as the female was gone, the tethered girl hissed out an insult that Lienna did not understand. Then, it was her turn to be examined as the girl's tired eyes flicked over her. She reached out for Lienna's face, who flinched back at first like a startled deer. Suddenly, the girl flung her arms around her, drawing her close. Lienna's eyes widened, and for a moment she held her arms out, not sure what to do. After a second, she gently rested one arm around the girl's back, still more uncomfortable than anything. Soon she withdrew, and Lienna was thankful, though the girl did remain quite close.

Despite her apparent lack of boundaries, the girl's words were kind. "I’m sorry you’re here,” she said softly, "But I hope you’ll find some happiness. I’m Rya," she paused for a second before continuing, ”Oh...this is Azilon. What are you known by?”

Lienna's brow furrowed despite herself. This girl didn't seem fearful or resentful of her husband at all. She introduced him like a friend. Why, then, did he feel the need to tether her?

After a few beats, she remembered to respond, folding her hands neatly in front of her and adjusting her posture once more. "My name is Lienna Orhneaht," she replied, Northern accent becoming clearer than usual as she carefully pronounced each syllable.

Then, realizing that she had forgotten herself and that it was likely more appropriate to address her new husband before she addressed her sister bride, she turned toward him and, not knowing what else to do, sank to her knees like the Drakken at Shadow Worth had instructed.

"It is an honour to meet you, my lord," she stated, eyes downcast, demure but not grovelling, "I hope that I can serve you well."

She took note that the Drakken was not pleased with her noticing the pregnancy. Adora held up her hands in a gesture of resignation. She would make no mention of it again. She wondered what it was that had them both so scared of the pregnancy being found out. Wasn't this something to celebrate? It was a headscratcher, to say the least.

Goodness, what a grump! Everything was so serious with this girl. Adora wanted to roll her eyes. She could understand the fear but the stiff anger the woman had was strange to her. She supposed if one was hurt enough she would perhaps want to warn the other what to expect. She allowed herself to be pushed back on the bed and watched the girl's pretty face come into view. She was still being very serious. And was attempting to be vague and teach her about kinks. A small smirk appeared on Adora's lips as the woman spoke.



The door suddenly burst open and Adora let go of the bride. The extraordinarily handsome man entered and he was just as grumpy as his Twenty. No wonder she acted that way. It had to be him to thank for it. It was said that partners start to become more like each other as time passed on. Twenty removed herself from Adora and she sat up. She patted her hair, making sure each strand was still in place - so as to be properly ruffled later. The man forcefully grabbed her wrist again and pulled her off the bed. Why couldn't people just ask? She was more than willing to go wherever it was she should go. After all, this was to be her new life. No resistance from this tiny Gem.

She followed along after the man, taking in the sound of Drakken enjoying their newly gained toys. It only further hammered home that what was happening to her was abnormal. "Why the rush?" she inquired of the handsome, hornless Drakken. "If you desired to take your time to enjoy me, I would most certainly not decline," she purred. She suspected this man was not to be her new husband but she couldn't be sure. From the way Twenty spoke, it seemed she was to was to go to someone else. She was not about to let the chance to make an impression fly away.

"I don't like this sand. Why did we even come here!? It's full of nothing but sand and weird birds cawing at me and I don't like it!" The column of riders looked typical of the harsh Drakkan homelands. Their large warhorses had no problems carrying the packs of plundered riches and weapons numerous enough to suit a small army. They numbered two dozen and they would have moved silently through the sands if it wasn't for the incessant mumblings of their leader, Rynek Darion.

"We discussed this half an hour ago, my lord. You were promised a bride in payment and the annual claiming is happening today." A much smaller Gem man took up the side of Rynek. His hair was already thinning and turning grey but he kept abreast with the Drakkans. He was voted in as a secretary of sorts for the group by a unanimous vote; mainly to keep Rynek in check and make sure they all got paid.

"Why do I even pay you Sekret? I could have any girl I wanted down South but nooo we had to go and get a Gem." Rynek retorted.

"You don't, sire. You enslaved me three years ago and said you would, and I quote, make me play jump rope with my intestines if I attempted to escape. And also, it was your idea." A collection of murmurs behind him meant that Rynek had to accept defeat and just be grumpy.

Despite this, it was Rynek who cooed like a small child when they rounded the hill to reveal the sprawl of Železna Kri. He was never quite used to big cities, at least ones that weren't burning but this impressed him. It didn't take them long to reach the gates and a letter produced on the part of the band's resident Gem sought them entry into the crowded streets of the Drakkan capital.

They dismounted and guided their horses through stifling heat. They were given a wide berth. Even in a place as self-centred as Železna Kri, tales of dogs such as themselves reached many ears. Honourless and vicious, they would do just about anything if gold was involved. Their last contract involved the sacking of a town that was refusing the imposed taxes. The reward, as promised, would be a Gemmenite wife plucked straight from the reaping. Rynek liked the thought of it at the time but he also didn't like sand in his shoes and there was a great deal of sand in his shoes.

The contractor was a particularly wealthy old lout who had grown placid. He had made his home amongst the high class of Drakkan society and it was there that the merry band visited. Leaving their horses at the gate, only Rynek and Sekret were permitted entry to the main complex. It was welcomingly cool in the building except for the family of armed Drakkan and a few half-naked girls lying around.

"Rynek Darion, how good it is to see your face once more. I trust you took care of my problem, yes?" Rynek concluded that the head of the household reminded him most of a snake. He didn't have much interactions with the slithery little bastards but from what he did, he thought the description was fitting. He also liked the half naked ladies.

"Well if by take care you mean rape and steal, yeah I suppose we did that." He turned to Sekret. "We did that right?" With a nod from the Gem he turned round to the snakey man with a cocky grin. "Aye yes we did that. The gold is being unloaded as we speak. Now er where exactly would one get his promised wife?" A laugh went up amongst the room and it took Rynek a good minute and a half to realise that he was the subject of said laughing.

"You are a lowlife mercenary that trades glory for gold. Do you think you even deserve a bride?" The lord stifled another laugh. "Take one of those whores and begone. I have no more use for you." Rynek was not one bit impressed. Sekret sighed and increased the gap between them.

"Now hold up just one second! I trampled across a fucking desert to get my fucking wife and I fully intend to get said fucking wife... for fucking. Now give me what is mine or you will taste my spear! Taste my spear? Yeah that sounds a bit off." He turned to Sekret and gave him a questioning look, Sekret shrugged. "Ok ignore the tasting the spear part but I still want my Gem." Another round of laughing went up again. It was a pity really, if they were focusing they could have noticed the Drakkan producing a spear. And flinging that spear. What they defintely wouldn't have noticed was how the air before the spear seemed to flee and by the time it impacted in the maw of the lordling, it exploded his jaw into a million pieces and was only stopped by the stone of his chair.

Screams filled the air, the sound of steel on steel following. Like dogs to a bone, his men found their way into the room, blood already soaking their blades. "All I wanted was to have a nice little Gem wife and settle down somewhere nice and have nice little babies but nooo you all just had to ruin that!" Even the heaviest of the Drakkan seemed to slink away from him as he stepped forward, weaponless, to retrieve his spear. They knew what his ilk were, if Rynek and his dogs wanted to, they could slaughter the lot of them. He took his spear, cleaning it on the silks of the man before stepping back down. "I want my wife Sekret. We're going to get my wife or I'm going to get very fucking angry at all this fucking sand!"

Bodies littered the corridors outside the main chamber. Rynek stepped over them, sadness replacing anger. "I just thought for a moment we'd actually be treated nice, yaknow? I just wanted a wife is all." He sighed and sunk his spear into a guardsman trying to crawl away.

"Listen boss, if anyone deserves a wife it's you but eh maybe we should think twice about heading over there and causing a ruckus. I heard those there royal guard are nasty fellas!" Twig was one of the larger and dumber members of their gang. Having less than a few necessary parts up there meant that he often questioned Rynek where others would not.

"Gentlemen. When have you ever seen me do something reckless? I have a plan, of course. A great plan, as a matter of fact!"



They hung around one of the many inns until nightfall when the onlookers from the arena not deemed worthy enough were kicked out. From what Rynek had gathered, this meant that only those getting brides were still inside. Them and a fairly large army of guardsmen. Not the best odds but he preferred it that way really.

When the outside was entirely cleared, they made their move. Wrapping himself in a thick cloak and meandering towards the main gate, he took his time and hunched over like a cripple. His men hung back, keeping to the shadows. Where are you going, old man?" One of the guards barked as he neared them. Humming along without a care in the world, Rynek continued his approach. "This is your last warning! Turn back now!" The two guards reached for their weapons much too late. They clattered to the floor as he passed, crossbow bolts protruding from their chests. As he rambled on, his dogs fell in behind him, moving forward to intercept any guard that got in their way

Finally, they emerged into a great hall that had way too many pretty girls for Rynek to handle. The guards at the entrance weren't as stupid as their predecessors and backed away, weapons raised to join a larger cohort. He hadn't removed the cloak but had taken his spear in hand. Raising it and knocking the bottom into the flagstones beneath him, he made his presence known.

"So who does a guy have to talk to around here to get one of those pretty little Gems?"

The journey from the hot springs back to the castle seemed like a mere moment compared to the journey to. Perhaps it was because they were now running towards the end of their journey.

Most of the items that Xaeila brought were simple in nature. Her most beautiful dresses and silks left behind with friends and cousins. It seemed a shame to drag such beautiful things into such an ugly world. The drakken, however, surprised her by leaving her a light blue, flowy dress, very similar to something she might have owned back home. The neckline plunged into the belt, but it was modest enough with a few adjustments. The few touches of her own were the bands on her arm. Gifts from her teachers and a nod to her profession.

Or the profession she would have had.

Xae left her hair unbound and free to air dry, knowing that waves would eventually take hold of her hair. The make up she selected was minimal, and done mostly to fill the time she was given to ‘get ready’.

The only struggle came to her feet. Although the burns were healing, the skin was still sensitive and it was painful to wear most shoes for any amount of time. She had been taking to wrapping her feet in soft clean cloth everyday to lessen the impact walking had on them. Today was no exception, choosing to favor the cloth rather than actual shoes.



The journey to the capital was far longer than the trip to Shadow Worth. The scenery changing drastical from hour to hour, starting with an alpine tundra and ending in a desert. By the time they had arrived, night had fallen and storm had blown itself in.

For the most part the girls were kept dry, ushered from the carriages to the arena. After a quick speech, the high prince had lead her and another girl, one she hadn’t spoken much with, towards one of the more elderly look drakken. If elderly meant ‘could still rip you in half,’

Her companion spoke first. Easy, uneventful talk. It was clear by the girl’s voice that the meekness was more than just an act.

Her husband followed after. Asking simple questions and giving information in return.

Keregar.

That name sent Xae’s mind spinning. It was a name she had heard before. Keregar, one of the few remaining drakkan that had been around when drakken used to come and select their brides directly from the supply. Although it was his father, Korag, who had been many more times before. A story. One that once broke the hearts of many, although now seemed like a dime a dozen tale.

“ I know who you are,” said Xaelia, raising her head to look the drakken in the eye. “Keregar,” The name came out slowly as Xae took the time to speak every sound in his name. “You’ve been to my village before, as all drakken who enter Geminia do, although it has been many, many years since you last crossed. I also suspect you and I will cross through it again the same number of times,”

The story of Keregar was known by a few who followed the history of the Gem/Drakken conflicted. Although the story of his father was the one more often told. “You shadowed your father across the great spine to seek your prize, all the way to the capital… The rest of the story is sad, although I suspect you find it glorious and full of honor,” Not every gem had a story worth remembering, although there were some people in her village who strived to recall every girl, Xaelia only focused on the ones worth talking about.
“My name is Xaelia,”

Events from earlier in the day played and replayed through Azilon’s head as he glanced off into empty space, perhaps one of the calmest men in the entirety of the hall. He had stormed out after having dueled his father, breathing heavily and walking quite fast in an attempt to put as much distance between him and the arena as possible. The man had not been able to make it all that far before a surprising force threw off his momentum from behind, the thin chain snapping from its position around his wrist as an indignant Rya yanked to a halt. Azilon wasn’t all that sure what impressed him more, the strength displayed in damaging the tether or the fact that she then had the guts to follow up with a lecture. Having had a few moments to calm himself and clear his head, the pair had made their way back to the arena, Azilon choosing not to spend much time around the rest of the family for the remainder of the duels.

It seemed, however, that the festivities were not without their hitches. Watching from above, Azilon smirked through the princess’ taunting speech, her words successful in riling up quite a few men eager to prove their worth in combat. All for show of course, after all, no Drakkan worth his horns was going to sit by and allow themselves to be upstaged by fights deemed boring by a member of the royal family. Yet the tone was quick to change as warriors, Azilon included, rose from their seats with their weapons drawn. Three men had stepped out of line, taking what Azilon could only describe as a pitiful attempt on the woman’s life. To some the fight might have appeared scripted, but he doubted as much by her display following. True anger tainted her voice, a thirst for blood burning bright within her eyes… Azilon had no doubts the attack was for real.

The bodies were quickly disposed of so that the fighting might continue, but the air retained a certain stiffness to it long after. Azilon had chosen not to stay much longer, instead carting Rya around at a much slower pace so that she could take in the sights and smells of the city. He figured the day would be a rather easy one, but it seemed the day had other such plans. A messenger sent from the royals had instructed those receiving brides to gather in the royal hall later that evening and from the sounds of it, they would be receiving their prizes that night. While he found it surprising and more than a bit of a drag to have to attend, Azilon found the silver lining that he would now be allowed to return home sooner rather than later due to this change in schedule.

Still, he couldn’t help but space out as the room buzzed with its predatory excitement, each victor chomping at the bit to grab their girls in go. It wasn’t until Evienne herself walked toward him that he snapped back to attention, lazily acknowledging her presence. The headpiece she wore was rather over the top in his opinion as neither of the other royals seemed to don such attire, but he deemed it fair due to the overwhelming numbers in the room and the nature of the event. Women of her caliber, while respected, were still heavily sought after. By wearing what was about as close to a crown as he had seen any of her family wear, she assured that even the youngest man from the furthest reaches of Drakka would know his place when interacting with her.

The pair spoke briefly before she dropped off her charge and returned to whatever work she had, a small voice ringing out behind him as the woman left earshot.

“She’s a self righteous-slagger eating munter.” Azilon raised an eyebrow, turning to glance at the young Gem. He wondered what interactions with the princess Rya might have had before being handed over to her previous husband to warrant such a reaction. The thought didn’t interest him nearly enough as he focused his attention on the newcomer. She was pretty enough, not that such things were important to him, but it meant the royals weren’t completely messing with him. Rya seemed to latch on to the girl quickly enough, a good sign as it would give her somebody to annoy instead of just him. Azilon’s misfortune might just have worked out to be fortune in the end, a silver lining he had not been expecting.

The man remained rather quiet while Rya made the introductions, first of herself and then of him like he were the afterthought. It didn’t bother him in the least, though if he had to gauge from the look in the new girl’s eyes, such an entrance confused her. Still, she maintained her composure quite well and introduced herself in return revealing a name of Lienna. What did surprise him was her immediate reaction to fall to her knees, dropping her gaze to the floor while uttering something that resembled a pledge of loyalty… Almost.

“My oh my. Seems you scored an alright girl after all, I was half expecting them to hand you the leftovers. A bit uptight for my tastes, but she’ll suit you just fine dear brother.” Morganna purred, appearing from behind Azilon unannounced sending a shiver down his spine. He was no slouch when it came to detecting hidden foes but Morganna had a gift of entering and exiting rooms unseen, not to mention sneaking up on people even when they were most expecting her.

Azilon shook his head with an internal sigh. Personally, he thought the girl was rather smart, choosing to display all that she knew to be signs of respect when uncertain. Self-preservation was an important trait to have when living out in the wilderness, something he wasn’t yet sure Rya possessed.

“I suspect you’ll do just fine. Rya, help your new friend back up to her feet and see to it that neither of you get lost.” He said after a moment, waiting for Lienna to rise before he gingerly took her arm up in his hand. Carefully he tied the end of the chain he had been holding to her wrist, linking the two girls together. After Rya’s stunt earlier in the day, it was no longer possible for him to wear it around his own wrist and he was growing ever more tired of holding the thing. He would have to trust that the two girls could keep up on their own. Perhaps Lienna’s presence would help keep Rya out of trouble.

Turning his eyes back to the room, Azilon sweeped the area for a glimpse of his father whom he spotted standing off to the side conversing with some of the elder lords. His younger brother was glued to his side, nodding along with whatever was being said, and puffing out his chest every so often. Azilon’s elder brother, on the other hand, was busy inspecting his new bride, his circled pacing making her visibly uncomfortable despite her proud stance. Finally the man grinned, gripped her by the arm and took his leave with his new bride in tow.

“Looks like he approves of her. She’ll be in for a rather long and rough night for sure. Hopefully she’ll be able to survive, didn’t sound like she was being kept for reproduction this time around, not when the one at home is faring so well. ” Morganna piped up, having picked up on Azilon’s gaze. He felt a little bad for the poor soul, but such was the life of many of the brides here. No doubt Lienna had already prepared herself for such an outcome, luckily for her it wasn’t quite his style. He wasn’t all that interested in such matters, and seeing as the family had plenty of sons to continue breeding, his contribution wasn’t strictly necessary. It was likely she would serve as more of a servant than an actual bride, but he didn’t think she would mind being granted the option to take such a easy path.

“Seems like such a waste, not that it’s any of my business.” Morganna shrugged her shoulders and walked away, disappearing back into what was left of the crowd without another word to her relative. Shaking his head, the man turned to look at his own girls.

“We should be going as well. It’s a hefty journey back to my home and we’ll be leaving first thing in the mo-” Azilon’s voice was cut off by a commotion at the doors, the sounds of guards shouting and bodies dropping.

It didn’t take long for the cause of such a commotion to appear and announce himself, shouting into the room and all but demanding a girl for himself. Those with Gems still lingering about the hall stepped close to their prizes, possessively hovering to ensure the safety of their hard earned brides. It was clear none of them were going to go down without a serious fight, though some were more cautious than others due to the guards that had been dropped so swiftly on his way in. Azilon himself did not move but he did maintain a wary eye on the newcomer to see what he would do, ready to move if needed.







The princess could feel eyes on her at all times throughout the evening, every step she took shadowed by another’s. Even after assuring her father that she was fine and could more than handle herself, he had deemed it important that a guard maintain visual contact with her at all times during the evening. With so many strangers invited into the royal palace it was a concern that the crowd might be used to cover more individuals intent on doing the royal family harm.

Such a concern seemed increasingly unnecessary as the room began to clear, plenty of recipients taking off to enjoy their spoils as soon as possible. A few elected to stay, or at the very least had not yet felt the need to depart, but the crowd was beginning to thin enough that Evienne was certain she could move freely without need of a babysitter. Alas, the guard would not disappear until ordered by her father, who was constantly busy conversing with Lords of great importance. Heaving an irritated sigh, the princess all but gave up on the thought of a relaxing Reaping.

It seemed her night would not end a complete dud, as a commotion from outside caught their attentions. Forcing his way in through several guards, a man she did not recognize burst into the room without a single worry of what he had done. Immediately the guard assigned to her closed in, placing himself between the man and his charge with a spear pointed in his direction. Several other guards about the room drew their weapons but maintained a distance, awaiting an order to proceed before they made any sort of move. Evienne glanced over to her father who took in the sight calmly, his own sword still sheathed at his side

Clearing her throat to get her father’s attention, the pair shared a few looks before he eventually conceded. Evienne stepped around her guard quickly, snatching his spear from his hands to keep with her in case its use was necessary but not bothering to take any stance with it.

“A bold move on your part, storming into the royal palace uninvited not to mention your butchery of our employed citizens on your way in. I’m sorry to say that you’ve missed your opportunity to brawl, however, today’s tournament forbade the killing of opponents anyhow. Perhaps we’ll see you in the Pits tomorrow?” She mused, lips curled into a snide smirk, eyes a fiery challenge to the man standing before her.

“If it were not such a festive occasion, your current actions would be considered that of a hostile threat. I’m sure we can overlook this mishap in judgement and excuse it as overzealous excitement though. Tell me, warrior, what name are you known by? And what business do you have interrupting a mostly concluded Reaping?” Evienne spoke with strength and authority, standing fearlessly before a man that could be either friend or foe. She would fight him if that’s what it took, after all, he seemed like he might be a worthy enough opponent. Evienne stood before him watching, waiting for his response, curious if he would be the first to strike, determined to be the last.

She might not have looked like much, but Evienne was fairly skilled. Her display in the Pit had been nowhere near her top performance, an unfortunate situation to be certain and one far different than what she faced now. While her strength and battle prowess were not yet comparable to her father’s, or even some of the elder War Lords, she was not a force to be taken lightly in any situation. A dull throb in her abdomen reminded her of her earlier exploits causing a rush of adrenaline to pump through her veins. If the stranger was going to make a move, she hoped he would do so soon.

The little one looked up at him with those pretty red eyes of hers, though Ineraz couldn’t decide if she was afraid or not based only on her current posture or demeanour. Then, before answering, her face smoothed into a peculiar non-expression. Ineraz took that to mean she either calmed herself or was hiding behind a brave façade. A rather hopeful indication for certain pleasing traits, such as respectfulness or perhaps even vigour.

“Sera,” he tested the name, then raised his eyebrows in amusement at the Gem’s next question. Whether she was simply reckless or socially awkward, Ineraz found Sera to be endearing more than irritating so far, and was thus not bothered by the slight disrespect of the query, which could be construed as containing a hint of a challenge. Still, his brides should know his first name and some rules of conduct, so he proceeded to give both. “You may call me Ineraz. When in a public setting, you should add a ‘sir’ when referring to me, at least occasionally,” he cocked a considering eyebrow, then added “Or ‘master’ if you’re feeling particularly formal. And as you’ve already guessed,” his tone acquired the slightest note of mockery, though it could be very easily mistaken for levity “calling me husband or Lord husband is perfectly fine too.” And because he could, he offered Sera a very quick, small smile.

“And Zeldria,” Ineraz turned his attention to his taller slender beauty, who seemed content to be compliant so far. Quite pleasing. He rewarded her with a smile that had some more honesty behind it than his previous one did, though it was doubtful that either girl would be able to tell the difference.

“You are correct, I am known to some Drakken as a Beastmaster because hunting is my way of life and my business. Taming as well. Canids are a good example; some have been domesticated by Drakken for a while, however choosing certain wild ones and training them as I see fit has brought some very satisfying results. The same goes for several other varieties of animals as well.

“You would be surprised how profitable it all can be. Admittedly, not many Drakken see hunting as a worthwhile affair. However, I can assure you that it is rather necessary and provides plentiful learning opportunities. In fact, if either of you happens to be interested, I am willing to offer you first-hand experience in tracking, trapping, killing and preparing game. Don’t worry, you’d be relatively safe with me. No need to be afraid of refusing either, because I don’t expect you to do something so…I suppose you as Gems would consider it distasteful?” he ended the explanation with a query. Though if they declined or did not answer at all, he intended to extend them future opportunities for expressing such an interest.

“We’re leaving,” Ineraz told them shortly after answering their questions. There wasn’t much reason to stay beyond the feast and that was not something he was greatly interested in. As they were both still facing him, he gently turned them around, then placed a hand on the mid-back of each girl, so that Zeldria was on his left and Sera on his right. In this way, he guided them back to his family’s manor house. The physical contact he maintained with his brides insured the girls wouldn’t stray. It also gave them a light push to continue in his desired direction, should they need it. During the minutes long walk in the rain, Ineraz did his best to match his pace to the Gems, though the height difference made it a bit of a challenge. It caused the walk to be longer than it would have been otherwise and Ineraz watched a bit regretfully as his brides got soaked – their dresses, while pretty, hardly offered much protection.

“The Evrenarth – my family’s – estate,” Ineraz offered as an explanation as soon as they arrived at their goal. He stopped for half a minute, despite the drizzle, and let his brides look upon the greyish-yellow manor house. As soon as they came inside, Ineraz took the time to dry off his brides – and also himself – by way of creating a warm breeze of air which enveloped them for a while.

One of the Drakkan guards at the estate notified him that his own subordinates returned just recently, and were currently dining, so Ineraz took Sera and Zeldria to dinner and then graciously allowed them to eat in peace – though he did insure that they did, in fact, eat – while he conversed with his Drakken colleagues about the wares they sold, the purchases they made, some notable fights at the tournament they had missed, and any business matters which had to be resolved. When they all finished eating, Ineraz beckoned two of the Drakkan males to follow him, while he himself yet again led the brides to another room.

“You may have some time to take a bath. A servant will bring you spare clothing, though these dresses, however unpractical they may be, are now yours. I might take you shopping tomorrow if you behave,” then they entered the room together, most of which was occupied by a wooden tub, large enough that it could accommodate both Gems at once. To the side, there were three barrels filled with water and Ineraz transferred the contents into the tub, then warmed the water to an almost uncomfortable degree. Then he left the room and closed the door almost fully, leaving it open only a crack. His Gem brides would be left be alone, but any illusion of privacy was easily broken by the two guards standing just outside the room.

Ineraz addressed the two male Drakken in a quiet voice. “Ensure that they don’t get harmed in any way,” he specified this only because he knew that some Gemmenite women were so distraught after being taken from their homeland that they attempted to commit suicide, and sometimes succeeded. “One of you fetch a servant and have them try to find two cloth tunics that might fit my brides. When the Gems are done, lead them to my rooms. Make sure someone refills the water barrels after. Then take your well-earned rest,” he left, trusting they wouldn’t dare do anything to his possessions without his permission.

Ineraz went ahead to his room, though not before charging a servant to bring two bedrolls and a washing bowl for him. In his chambers, he removed his armour and weapons and brushed his hair. When the requested items had been delivered, he quickly washed off the light sweat he had worked up during the day, set the bowl aside, and put on a black cloth tunic. He then set the bedding for his two brides in a corner of the room, opposite from the door and far enough from his weapons that were still openly displayed where only Ineraz could easily access them if he so needed.

The bedding on the floor would be comfortable enough, though not as much as if his darling little Gems decided to sleep with or next to him. The thought of his new brides naked and possibly washing each other right now made him ache uncomfortably. But he did want them to be willing for any bed activities…Ineraz only hoped his patience and lust could hold out long enough. Oh, but the mere thought of simply ravishing them! Don’t lose your resolve so easily, now. Ineraz knew he could seduce them, and do it well. Think of the long-term benefits…Mmm.

As soon as his guards delivered his refreshed brides and left so the three could have their privacy, Ineraz spoke to them. “I will give you three options for how this and any following night in your new lives could proceed. One, you may choose to sleep in a corner not unlike a dog,” he nodded in the direction of the bedrolls, “Two, you may sleep next to me,” he patted the bed he was currently sitting on “And three, you may sleep with me,” he grinned at them lasciviously and eyed their bodies tellingly. He then redirected his gaze back to their eyes and made one last prediction. “Either way, you will eventually get used to my presence and the idea of being with me. And I assure you, I will show you the kinds of pleasure you wouldn’t have had chance to even dream of until now, much less experience,” the last sentence, Ineraz practically purred out sultrily, making a rather suggestive movement with his hand; stroking down his chest slowly and ending at his thigh, his fingers playfully inching closer to the prize his brides could get.

"Sorrak's tits, its all day with these people..." Kagan swears quietly, watching as what few drakken remaining pull their new pets close. Aubree's little message from the prince also didn't help, and quietly he hoped this wasn't what the royal had been referring to. "Well Bree, I believe that is as good as a cue as any." He grunts, walking to the back of the room, pulling the gem behind him with no real thought to being gentle. Expedience was more important at the moment than her comfort, and he'd be damned if he was going to be killed because of some breeding sows inability to run in heels.

The streets of Železna Kri were less packed now, the celebration of her peoples new prizes having died down as the rain over took the streets, the normally yellow dust of the streets now darkening as the water began to take root deeper into the frequently thirsty soil. He stands in the door way a moment, enjoying the lack of noise beyond the fall of raindrops and the now muted stench of the city. Rain had helped that last point, but not considerably, but it was at least now tolerable.

"Its a few blocks to the hotel. I dare to assume you've no strong aversion to water?" He asks, not even bothering to look at Aubree. He could shield them both from the rain if need be, but the dust cloud from his earlier fight had reminded him how rusty he'd become at using magic for any great length of time. And more than that, if whatever was causing that disturbance from earlier followed them (though Gods know why they would), he wanted to be able to respond quickly.

A gust of icy wind wrapped around Bree’s body as she was pulled from the arena to the world outside. Her view of the drakken capital coming in had been almost nonexistent and the view she was left with now was that of a nightmare. The storm had blown out all fire based torches that hadn’t been properly covered, so that only a few lit the city below. The only other lights came from the windows of nearby homes and the brightness of lightning as it illuminated the area.

Goosebumps exploded across her skin as yet another gust of air shot towards the arena. A shiver shot through her body and she pulled her one free arm in closer to her body. She longed to bring forth a flame to help ease the chill away. But it wouldn’t have lasted long once they entered the storm.

"Its a few blocks to the hotel. I dare to assume you've no strong aversion to water?"

Bree had simply assumed that, with the weather being the way that it was, they would take a carriage. She tried not to focus on the stains the ever growing puddles would leave on her hemline. It was just a dress. But it was also home, a familiar thing in a foreign world.

There was also the minor irritation of having to fix her hair. It's length made tending to it a rather...labor intensive affair. But that argument would have been the most risky and the most childish. Hair could be fixed...and Kagan would probably just remind her that it was soon to be chopped anyway.

Besides, It was more than apparent that Kagan has made up his mind and the question had been rhetorical.

“I...suppose walking will be f-,”

“You! Gem! You dropped this. ”

“Hey, Gem,”

A large hand reached out and tugged on Bree’s outward shoulder. Done in a way to get her attention, rather than pull. Half-turning, Bree saw a hulking drakkan. Shorter than most, but what he lacked in height he made up for with bulging muscles.

The drakkan held up a thick iron ring, far too large for her fingers. “Ah, no... That's not mine,” she said without hesitation.

“Yes, it is yours,” the drakken insisted, this time pulling her free hand, trying to press the hard metal into her palm. Despite talking to her, touching her, Bree couldn't help but notice that the drakkan seemed to rotate his focus between Kagan and some spot behind them, treating her mostly as an after thought.






“So?” said Ehokta, the door swinging shut as he put a hand out to stop it, looking at his bride, utterly ignoring Adorabella.

“If her bite is as good as her bark, then you have selected wisely,” muttered Twenty, her head tilted down, but her tone stayed.


The desert storm was showing its fangs. The paths around the city that were only dirt soon turned to mud and the ones with stones formed small puddles. Lightning flashed, crashed about the sky and thunder followed quickly after. The storm had cleared the majority of the streets, but every now and there, little pockets of drakken could be seen, howling at the storm and fighting each other.

The prince sat in the carriage, the gem girl across from him. The Inn where the royals kept the drakken who needed accommodations was close to the arena. Had it not been for the storm, it would have been faster to walk. But he wasn’t about to let his little gem ruin her appearance.

The rooms were some of the finest in the land. A few daring souls spread the rumor that they were created by the original owners clever gem-bride. The owner was long since dead and his holdings turned over to the royal family.

Each of the rooms was large, vaguely rectangular in shape. The center point of each room being a massive bed, large enough to hold four or five people. Large chairs surrounded an even larger stone fire place. Under the far window, overlooking the center of the capital, was a large stone tub. Deep enough that a small gem could stand in it and would cover her waist, with plenty of room for all. It was heated by a low burning fire underneath, with buckets of cold water nearby to adjust the temperature as the user saw fit. Slaves would be in each morning to change the water and...anything else that might need a cleaning.

The final wall held the door, as well as a long table that was filled with wine, cheeses, fruits, loaves of bread, and water.

Ehkota lead the girl to the center of the room and motioned for her to get on the bed. “Now, I shouldn’t have to tell you that you not fucking this up in very important for your wellbeing. I heard about your little stunt when you were first brought to Castle Worth. In part, that is why you were selected, as you know. You are no innocent creature, best use every bit of that to your advantage tonight. If you are returned to me, well, let’s just hope that the Kinner mercifully puts you out of your misery before that point,”

“Don’t move from that spot, I suspect your husband and ‘sister’ will be here soon,” Placing a sealed scroll in front of the girl, he turned leading his guard out of the room. “Don’t do anything stupid, after all it would be a shame if someone else got hurt because of your antics,”

The ceremony was mostly quiet, the chatter being confined to those who were delivering the Gems and the few words shared between Husband and Bride. The ceremony was mostly unentertaining to watch, though the scared faces of a number of the Gems and their varying reactions to their new Husbands made it tolerable. The Drakkan grinned viciously as he watched the strong headed Brides hold their heads high to their new masters; that grin grew at the souls who mustered the bravery to even talk back to them. His mouth began to drip with temptation at the thought of reaching out to the defiant few and crushing their pride between his blood soaked hands. Surely, their new husbands would not live up to the cruel nature that was once feared of Drakkans, a conclusion he deduced from the meak size of those receiving their prizes. His eyes scanned the line of Husbands, looking for anyone worth while, until they stopped on a rather sizable Drakkan who was receiving his Brides from the High Prince himself.

Hope still lingers in this tainted land, I see.

Inquisition settled in the pit of his stomach as he noticed the exchange of words between the High Prince and the Drakkan, and again between the Husband and the Brides. He was too far away to make out what they were saying in a room bustling with various conversations all happening at once. If he wanted to listen in, he would have to get closer.

The Drakkan began to move from his position when he noticed another female Drakkan appear from the other side of the room and swiftly travel across it, landing behind yet another slender looking Drakkan. How many of these pretty boys were allowed to live at birth? Disgusting.

This one had distinctively long black hair and a brunette Bride that was already attached to him. There was a white haired Gem standing in front of the couple as well. His eyes focused on the Drakkan female. Her hair resembled that of the male she was speaking with and how her body spoke as she talked to him made it clear that the two knew each other. Related, perhaps?

She was tall, her frame slender, but she held herself with an air of confidence. Confidence befitting of a Drakkan; an utmost alluring trait. His lips crooked up at the ends of his mouth, reeling themselves into a mischievous smile. This female was just as exquisite as the royal member before her, though he preferred the dark hair of this creature over the last. It was her eyes that captivated him the most; even from a distance their striking green colour was evident. With a shrug of her shoulders, she left the male and vanished into the ever depleting crowd. All of the other Drakkan there were receiving prizes today, why should he not relish in the same luxury? If he was going to catch her attention without drawing too much to himself, now was the time while there was still a crowd to conceal him.

He moved again, this time swiftly into the group of males accepting their Brides. His eyes watched the room as he moved through the Drakkan, ensuring not to alarm a guard of an uninvited guest. His pace matched the female as she seamlessly moved through the crowd, though he was approaching her from the opposite direction. It was likely that she was already aware of his presence, given how effortlessly she had snuck up on her relative. He would have to make it look as if he was not purposefully aware of her; with his head turned to observe another useless Drakkan he would surely forget about in seconds, he felt the left side of his body collide with another.

Instinctively, though purposefully, his body turned toward her; one arm scooped behind her back as the other held onto one of her free arms to stabilize her. As soon as the two of them both caught their footing, which was mere seconds, he released her and stepped back in respect. His calculating eyes met hers and he delivered a perfectly trained response; ”Pardon me.”

His voice lingered with his gaze for a moment before he spoke again. ”Though I should thank you… In a room full of sniveling and weak girls, it’s nice to see a woman still exists.” The Drakkan’s grin returned, though this version of it carried a seductive annotation. ”Excuse my forwardness, it is not every day one is allowed the presence of Drakkan such as yourself.”.

He allowed his tone to carry the last of his sentence, paying close attention to implying that she was gracing him with her presence; with both her beauty and the fact that she was a female in a race dominated by men. A rarity, indeed. It would take more than one simple interaction to woo a Drakkan female; they were people after all, not objects that could be bought or won. In this interaction all he was hoping for was to make a lasting impression, one that at least would have her memory flick back to him at some point, one that would maybe even convince her to speak to him again.

He knew their interaction would not be long, he wasn’t there to sink his teeth into a prey of his choosing yet. He was there to say hello to the royal family; he was there to reintroduce his family name to Drakka. He had pictured the moment in his head for what felt like an eternity now; a grand yet disappointing entrance as he strolled up to the front of the room. He had hoped someone there would have known his father personally, knowing that he shared an uncanny resemblance to him had him thirsting for the reaction of seeing a ghost paint itself across their face. His plan was almost ready to put in motion, but not before a slight detour to imprint his impression on the lady Drakkan he had bumped into, and not before a commotion just outside of the heavy doors came crashing in.

He watched unamused as a smaller white haired Drakkan appeared, spouting bullshit about obtaining one of the brides. The guards at the door had backed away quickly, their weapons drawn.

”Well I could have done that!” He said with a comedic tone as his eyebrow cocked and an open hand gestured toward the obscene situation unfolding at the entrance. Höd’s unamused look twisted into a curiously pleasured one as he watched the Royal Female take her defensive yet challenging stance in front of the white haired Drakkan.

”At least this waste of time will be entertaining.” He offered, his eyes looking at the female next to him. He gestured his head in the direction of the Royal and the party crasher. ”How much would you love to see her beat him senseless? And rightfully so, look at that poor excuse for a man. If he didn’t have horns I might have thought he was a bride.”

Vannoth Mors was not a very flashy man, no incredibly fancy clothing, no shining armor. He stood in these chambers as a silent statue of a man. Any rage, manliness, strength or power that radiated off him was out of sheer pain. His shoulder had been killing him since watching the tournaments, and being jostled in the crowd that was there was almost enough to set him off in the stands themselves. He was beyond unwilling to show this rage before the princes, that would surely be a death sentence as berserk warriors were frowned upon.

He had spent the rest of that day distracting himself in private, and even up until this meet he was loathe to do anything but truly attempt to relax. It was found to be hard to do, as one of the warrior he had brought to the city had decided a lapse of judgement would be safe and clapped him over the shoulder, planning to state "You should have fought, my lord!" . . . It became a viciously bloody mess in the street. One does not simply harm and touch Warlord Mors without dying. It was poor taste, and not something that needs to happen in the presence of the princes.

In this room? He was a grim statue. Standing there as if he were about to receive orders or a command. He had a great fur and cloth cloak along with what everyone could clearly tell was his "Sunday Best"... pristine, clean, never been worn before. He hung on every words spoken, and lightly examined all that were there. No one here was a push over, or undervalued... and there was a fair number. To be one of them was a honor he took in stride- however, it came with an attachment. He couldn't help but find that Zevi and his new bride were, for lack of a better statement, small and cute. Then it came to His turn. He gave the prince a bow hindered bow- with his shoulder acting up, he was not keen to move too much. As the gem was brought to him he looked her over. To his surprise he found her somewhat attractive- though he restrained himself to say it was more like finding a flower beautiful, or having a craftsman's trade and found a beautifully made piece of work. He waited until the princes were done speaking " So. I find myself wondering. Am I dealing with another spitfire, or are you content to cower in fear?" Any who had seen his training sessions would know this question. It was dangerous. It changed how he treated you- defined your next few days, would it be hell or would it be survivable? How would it apply to this poor gem was anyone's speculation. Only time would reveal the answer, that and the gem's choice. As they were "dismissed" He would lead his newfound prize to his rooms, his minor estate. Small, simple with a yard and a singular guilty pleasure. A garden. Private, clean, and outside of the glances and bustle of the Drakken crowds. Something he and, as he thought, his new bride could certainly be happy for an escape from.