---

The weight was lifted from his head in what felt like milliseconds, and then it was nothing more but a memory. Rubbing the top of his head where the painting had been perched, much like a bird or a cat ready to pounce, Elijah made sure there wasn't some long dent in his head, before remembering his manners, of which he had few, and stood straight before his savior of a sorts.

The blond prince, at least Elijah assumed the one who stood before him, was indeed a prince, not a princess, was being surpringly polite. Most people would've laughed at him for winding up in such an unlikely and rather stupid scenario.

"A-Ahem...yeah, I'm Prince Eli Rothchester, of the Ivunate Empire." He chuckled nervously, almost quietly enough that it couldn't be heard. "Thanks for the assistance."

He couldn't help but pause at the question about the vengeance he wanted to enact on the painting, and he had to repress a snicker. "Oh uh, yeah, totally, that's what I wanted to do! That painting had it coming this entire time! I've never liked that painting." It was tough to tell if he was being serious or merely joking, Elijah's tone and his face rarely matched at all.

"So uh...who'd you say you were again? I'm not actually all that familar with the other heirs and such of other places..."

With a toss of his hair over his shoulder, Yu Liang replied breezily, "It was no trouble at all. My companion, Nianzu, was the one who did the heavy lifting after all.” The prince waved his hand carelessly in a general direction, but upon receiving no response, looked to his side. The aforementioned person was nowhere to be seen and seemed to have disappeared into the crowd of people.

Taking no longer than a moment's pause to realize that his supposed bodyguard had most likely abandoned the prince in favor of surveying the area, Yu Liang turned his attention back to the other prince and shrugged easily. "Well, no matter. He just does that sometimes. Vanishing into thin air, I mean.”

At the red-haired prince's response, Yu Liang frowned slightly in confusion, unable to tell for sure whether the prince truly had some sort of vendetta against paintings. His tone suggested otherwise, but the expression on his face was blank. He hesitated for a few seconds, wondering how to respond before realizing that the other man was most likely being humorous after a closer look.

"Yes, I suppose it did", the blonde mused. “Don’t tell the king and queen this, but it is rather bland. I don’t like it much either.” Then he had a sudden look of mischief on his face. Leaning closer, with a hand cupping his mouth as though he were conspiring, Yu Liang said in a loud whisper, “We can keep this incident to ourselves.” Although he doubted there would be any actual consequence for knocking over a painting that could be reinstalled on the wall, he found it fun to pretend to have a so-called secret. “For all they know, the painting could’ve mysteriously fallen on its own.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Yu Liang replied, “Prince Yu Liang of Weifeng. Friends call me Yuli.” Although he normally would be offended by people not remembering his name, he couldn’t blame Prince Elijah. If it hadn’t been for Nianzu pointing out whose face belonged to which name and kingdom, he would not have been able to name most of the royals—-his memory was not the best. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted with them during your time here.”

A thoughtful look on his face, Yu Liang remarked, “You might not have heard much about the other heirs, but I would be surprised if they didn’t know about you. You’re quite famous on the Internet.“ Then Yu Liang shifted rather awkwardly before tentatively adding, “I personally enjoy learning of your latest plans of revenge. Remind me what your most recent one was again?”

A hand was brought to his mouth to suppress a snicker. True enough was the factor of the painting not being a large problem, but the idea of having a secret over it was rather amusing. Secrets that weren't really worth keeping were often the most fun to actually try and keep ahold of, regardless of how stupid it made somebody out to b-wait INTERNET!?

Elijah had to take a moment to process this. Internet famous was not two words he'd have thought to be used when describing himself, then again, himself and famous weren't generally two words he would have placed together. Incidents similar to the horde of chickens and the dog could be compared to this moment. The dog hadn't known which way to lunge first, and the same could be described of Eli. That street never did quite rid itself of the red.

"W-Wh-What?! How...!? I don't even use social med-...?" He spluttered for a few moments, composing himself when he became aware of his rather silly facial expressions. [color=Purple]"Heh, heheheh, so you know of me, good. Then you should know that I still gotta get back at that stupid vendor who sold me cotton candy without returning my change! Also theres a doorman I gotta get back at." His eyes wandered over to the hallway he'd came from, glaring daggers at it for a moment, then turned back to Yu with a small floish of his coat.

"Anyways, I like you already, prehaps we should team up, you could be my sidekic-" He turned away, mumbling to himself, he really had to stop calling people that, last time he'd done that he'd been stared at like he had been joking. His head whipped back to Yu. "Friends! I mean friends! Whatever you might call a patnership of mutal interest. Wait no, thats marriage. Damnit, was there another word for it. Should've read a dictionary before I got here..." Eli's words trailed off into another mumble.

Prince Elijah had paused mid sentence to turn away, so Yu Liang only caught part of his proposal. The prince had been suggesting that Yu Liang be his ...sidekick? He wasn’t sure exactly what that word meant, as he did not know how to translate it back to his native tongue. All of the possible meanings of a sidekick ran through his head, but none seemed to make sense. A kick to the side sounded ominous——besides, martial arts were more Nianzu’s area. He would have to ask said man later on. That or search the Internet for the definition, but the latter would have to wait until they could retire to their bedrooms. He could ask the prince himself, but from Prince Elijah’s hesitation, he decided it was probably best if he dismissed the word from his head for the time being.

Friends, on the other hand, was a much more familiar word. His puzzled expression was replaced with one that was of a pleasant surprise and an excited smile stretched across his lips. He hadn’t expected to have any conversations that weren’t about politics or simply for formalities when he came to the wedding——much less form a sort of alliance of sorts and it was for revenge of all things.

Had the blonde prince been talking to someone from his royal court, Yu Liang would’ve given them one of his signature bear hugs. In front of the Prince of Ivunate, however, it probably wasn’t wise to hug someone he’d only just met——even if they’d just established a newly formed friendship. Instead, with great self-control, Yu Liang extended a hand and nodded, “I believe the term friends will do just fine. Shall we shake on it?”

"Oh we shall. Friends it is." With a firm shake of the hand, a new friendship was forged, and Eli could only grin with a light air of mischievous glee. This was gonna be a good time.

---

Princess Hye-ri returned her stiff, polite smile, and Isabella contemplated making conversation with the other girl (who had just been joined by the flamboyant prince of Castilya) for about a total of two seconds before she dismissed the thought from her mind.

Instead, she cast her gaze around the spacious ballroom, searching for someone who would be worth her time. Her betrothed had not yet arrived; Isabella wondered where he was, and how late he intended to be.

Her eyes wandered towards one of the walls, which was lined with paintings, where Prince Erik von Rothschild of Veredun was standing. Nearby was the crown prince of Glavnya, Anastasiy Romanova. Isabella drifted in their direction, idly watching the crowd and taking small sips of her champagne as she did so.

Although Isabella had never been too cognizant of other people's fashion choices (it mostly amounted to something along the lines of wow, this outfit would upset my father or wow, I definitely do not want to wear this thing), she had to appreciate the fact that she and Prince Anastasiy were wearing matching colors, coincidentally.

The Glavnyan crown prince had only been named heir about a year or so ago, if Isabella remembered correctly. His older brother and his wife had been killed-in a car accident, or something. She wasn't quite sure if they had ever discovered the true perpetrators of the crime. It was not surprising, really; her father did not tend to allow most foreign news websites and/or TV channels within Evalusian borders. Being King Gabriel I's daughter had its perks, of course; Isabella was, admittedly, able to access some of the more relevant websites. But one also had to remember that Evalusian internet was not exactly state-of-the-art technology.

"Pardon me for being forward," she said by way of greeting, once she had reached the Glavnyan prince, "but I do love your outfit for the night." She tried her best at a wry grin, though she knew it would come out slightly stiff and/or forced, and that it would not reach her eyes. "We match."

Isabella was conscious of her lilting accent, with the long, drawn-out r's, the soft s's, and the vowels just a tad too breathy, though she supposed that there was nothing that could be done about it at the moment. It is still easier than listening to the Castilyan lilt, though, she thought to herself with a twinge of disdain. Is there a particular reason why they refuse to pronounce the “s” sound? It's quite...irritating.

(Interacting with @MorningStar1399)

Akio listened closely as Aito and Raven talked. He hated correcting people and he hated his English. He wasn’t as good as his brother even though he had studied the language longer. As Aito took charge of the conversation, Akio looked around the room, seeing if he could find Valentine, his betrothed. He had done research on her but to be fair there wasn’t much on her. She was rarely in pictures, she didn’t seem to ever have press conferences and she was all around mysterious. The only things he knew about her was that she liked to be called Valentine, her country was basically in ruins, and her best friend was Andronikos. He also knew what she looked like from the pictures that he had found of her.
As he looked around the room he heard the introduction of Andronikos. He immediately became even more attentive as he drew his eyes to the front of the room. He searched for Valentine up front by Anton but she wasn’t there. He began looking around the room. Maybe somehow he had missed the announcement for Valentine and she was already inside. His eyes darted across the room and they landed on a bun and a blue dress in front of a red carpet. He knew it was Valentine.
He quickly excused himself from his current conversation before walking over to a caterer. He grabbed two drinks off the tray before thanking the worker. He then walked over to Valentine with a smile. ”It is nice to meet you Valentine. I am Akio Bai of Talulia.” He said handing her the drink with a smile. ”I’m sorry to be bothering you but I thought it would be nice to get to know you since we are betrothed to one another.” He gave her a soft smile, trying to look kind and not threatening in any way. Some people had mentioned in the past that he had a scary face at times. Other people said he looked soft and like a dough boy and completely harmless. He was really trying for the second one right now. He wanted to make a good impression on Valentine so that she wouldn’t hate him. Hopefully at least one of them could be happy in this marriage.

She really wasn't very lucky. She should have known that she would not be. Of course the one person in the entire room that she least wished to speak to was the one that noticed her absence when Anton arrived and looked around until he was able to locate her. Damn both of them. Maybe she should have used the front door; at least there she'd have had other people to get in his way. But where she was, there was very little resistance to him moving across the floor. She considered darting for the door and just leaving, but she'd promised, and managed -- barely -- to stand her ground.

She kept her head down as Prince Akio approached, trying to remember how to breathe. What she wouldn't give for a nice invisibility spell right about now! But you have to do this. You have to. Valentine had had far too many lessons about her duties, and despite her best efforts a number of them had stuck. She couldn't bring herself to lift her head, looking not at the prince but instead at the ruffle on her skirt. At least he did his research. He didn't call her by her birth name, as so many people kept insisting on doing at events like these. The only reply she gave to his introduction was a stiff nod. Even if she'd wanted to say something, she didn't trust her voice. It would probably come out a mousy, unpleasant squeak if she managed to make it work at all.

Prince Akio offered her a flute of champagne, and while Valentine didn't really want to be drinking she felt obligated to take it from him. It took her a moment to unclench her fingers from around the strap of her little purse, and once she had the flute the wine wobbled dangerously close to the edge of the glass. Valentine knew how to properly appreciate wine, but her first sip was both hasty and larger than was strictly proper, just to make sure she didn't spill it. She still didn't look up at the prince, and she wished she'd left her hair down. She felt terribly exposed, as irrational as that was, and she could feel every bit of tension in her shoulders as they crept closer to her ears. She did not want to be here.

Edwin sighed weakly as he straightened his uniform, readying himself as the vehicle passed through the gates of the Palace. He had to rub the sleep from his eyes; Damn jet lag. He hoped it wouldn't make him move like he'd been drinking. After a short while longer, perhaps no more than a half minute, the vehicle came to a halt. The four guardsmen and Richard exited it immediately. After a moments pause, Edwin peered out of the window and gave a short nod to Richard as two of the guardsmen rushed back around the pavement to open the boot, retrieving a large and ornate chest from it, covered by a golden cloth. The two carried it between them as the procession arranged themselves.

"Impressive grounds, are they not?" Richard asked with a light hearted smile as he opened Edwin's door. As the young Prince stepped out of the vehicle, he peered around to evaluate them for a moment before replying with a simple nod. They made their way up the path, passing several guards who gave them and the chest rather peculiar looks. Edwin had sent word ahead to clear it before hand, but of course, no one had quite expected such a spectacle when he asked to 'bring my bodyguards and some gifts' as the gifts to be contained in a chest carried by soldiers who looked like they had just stepped through a timewarp and with a chest that looked almost as though it contained the crown jewels (or at least, part of them. He doubted he could fit the lot of them in this one chest after all).

And indeed, out of time they looked; Edwin himself wore the bright scarlet dress tunic of the Imperial Guard, with black trousers polished golden buttons. Atop his head sat, almost as if it were a crown, an engraved band of gold studded with a single large Ruby. A black cape with gold trim was fastened around his neck by an elaborate and extravagant golden broach, a wyvern with a small Ruby for an eye coiling around a crucifix like a possessive snake. On the smallest finger of his left hand he wore his signet ring, golden with his families coat of arms inscribed on the front, and the rest of his fingers were adorned with jewels and metals. From his belt hung a scabbard with an ornate sword. Although in truth the gothic hilted 19th century officer sword was a rather poor fighting weapon, it was aesthetically pleasing - definitely a weapon expected to be admired rather than used in a full blown battle.
Richard himself fared little better, for he too was clad as though some imperial officer of Old, wearing much the same with the notable absence of a cape or a metal band around his head; it made him look slightly less outlandish and more merely out of time. As he was here as a bodyguard, he still had his sidearm with him, holstered at his side. His broach too was a wyvern, though it had a topaz for its eye, and did not clasp anything but rather sat pinned through the upper right side of his tunic. The two families, Drakewine and Ashleigh, were closely linked and shared a Wyvern for their heraldry. Indeed, it was only due to the Ashleigh family, the traditional dukes of Mercia, that the House of Drakewine even existed; They were raised to the nobility by the Duke of Mercia and eventually superseded them to become their overlords. The Ashleighs had profited greatly from this in the long run. Richard's Older Brother held their kingship back home.
The four guards wore matching uniforms, and although not nearly as ornate or adorned with gems as the uniforms of Edwin and Richard, they were fine in appearence and each bore with them a handgun in a holster and a ceremonial sword, in the fashion of Edwin's, around their waist. From each of their sheathes hung a charm or two, and around their neck they bore pendants of silver and iron.

Edwin couldn't help but grin at the bemused and confused expressions of the guards and servants. It wasn't particularly unexpected- he remembered the staff and the civilians at the airport seeming even more perplexed.

"First we get a knight in shining armour and now this... I thought time was meant to go forwards, not backwards." He heard one of the servants murmur as they passed; Someone in armour, eh? He had a funny idea who that might be...

Finally, this strange procession of men from the eighteenth century arrived at the doors to the palace. With an exchanged glances and a nod, two footmen at the doors pushed open the door. Edwin went in first, stepping in ahead of Richard and the four guardsmen who followed in behind.

"We are fashionably late..." Edwin muttered sarcastically as he glanced over the palace grounds, they were waved on.

He passed Princess Ayleanna on his way in and stopped short, raising his hand to signal to his group.

"My Lady Ayleanna of Aciras, it is my honour to meet with you. Allow me if I may to profess myself a most ardent admirer of Your Royal Highnesses ecological concern and endeavours to promote a more harmonious relation with our Mother Earth and your inexorable battle against deniers of climate change, and to offer your this fine gift, forged by the finest of jewelers on Anatolia and set with a beautiful stone." Edwin said with a long and deep bow, smiling up at her all the way.

As he spoke his spiel, the chest was being laid down gently behind him and opened with a flow of gold cloth and the clink of tumblers. Richard retrieved and brought a small black box from within and handed it to Edwin, who passed it towards Lea and opened the top of it to reveal the contents; A golden necklace set with a Pink Rubellite gemstone. 18 Karat gold and a 6 carat gem as he recalled, rather precious and expensive. It had cost his treasury about £9000, though he wagered it would have been more under different circumstances. Prices are a bit more malleable when you're the son of the emperor.

Edwin ran his eyes quickly along the assembled individuals, recognising them from images. As usual, Richard had made him learn absolutely everything he could about absolutely everyone who was expected to be present. Yet frankly, the most he could absolutely absorb could not even hope to cover everyone in the room. There were far too many people for his liking in truth, these social events were far from his cup of tea as it were. Indeed, were it up to him he would have been spending this time back home with a good book.

Not that he needed it, of course, to identify Dom and Liv. Primarily by virtue of Dom having chosen to wear an entire suit of armour; Well, of course, it might *not* be them beneath the suit of armour, but in truth he'd be something stupid to think otherwise. Who but Dom would have decided to wear a suit of armour to a ball? Well, perhaps some of the Britannian nobility might have sought to do so, but he knew all of those who would be turning up here. To say nothing of their neighbours, who were markedly less flamboyant in - that particular manner. He was, for example, at least certain that was not Rhiannon of Wales.

Elias stood near them and from the movement of his lips and their swapped looks, he could tell that they were speaking to each other. Yes, he knew of this one too; the Pólemesian Prince who was something of a military man himself. The Pólemesians were quite the people, a strange mix of modern and traditional in a manner he quite approved of truth be told. And a very old people at that, their history stretched back several thousand years before his own peoples and given how long they had held themselves together, that was no small feat.

He crossed towards them, brushing past one of the staff as he made his way towards the Duo, Dom in their armour and Liv with a bird on her shoulder. He gave them a small smile as he approached and then raised his right arm into the air with his left hand behind his back. He crossed his legs before him, bending over into a bow and bringing his arm down in a swift arc before him, keeping his head tilted to look at them as he did and going fairly low. The pendant swung aimlessly back and forth in the air around his neck until he righted himself again quite suddenly.

"Well met again, my friends; You both look spectacular this evening and we are most pleased to see that Domitus does bear the uniform of a warrior! A bold statement to wear amongst the others, commendable indeed!" Edwin said as he moved himself to be more at ease. He looked towards Elias and gave a short bow "Prince Elias Kokinos, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance; Everyone in this room is a lot safer for your presence as I understand, Commander Supreme. I hear you are very brave and have endured more than most men already. Nasty business, assassination attempts. But I shall not darken the light of day with more talk of such things, forgive me."

And with that, Edwin righted himself and snapped his fingers to his guards in a fluid manner. Everything in Britannia worked like this, overly theatrical and garish in its extravagance.

"Amongst my people, a gift is a sign of courtesy among strangers, and affection among friends. Among strangers, a thoughtful gift is a sign that you are cautious, considerate, and aware of their wants and needs. Among friends, it is a private and subtle thing- the test of the gift is how well it is tailored to the receive." Edwin explained as two of the guardsmen came forwards, carrying between them a large chest and opening it up, drawing back the golden cloth that covered it. Richard turned towards the contents and handed Edwin a small plastic box, which he then opened.

"I understand that the both of you like different sorts of music, I saw fit to- well, prowl social media for you Liviana- and although it took us quite the while to find it, you as well Dom. So I decided to buy for each of you a selection of the music from the genres. Orchestral music for Liviana- Dom was far more difficult to choose for. If I failed you in my choices, you must correct me." Edwin spoke as he handed them both a small card; the digital age was a wonderful thing, was it not? Of course, he *did* have to hope that his research into the technology and compatibility and the likes had actually been correct. One could never tell with the byzantine mess that Lusitania had become, somewhere between brutally protectionist and overwhelmingly dominated by the Athenians, although such a thing might be considered itself a strange contradiction.

"And as a gift to your country, although I am certain your Senate might not see it that way, I am making a considerable donation of two hundred thousand in gold to the Lusitanian Women's Forum; Lustiania is well overdue some reform. I chose the most modest and polite reform group there is, and if the Senate cannot even tolerate that, then frankly I have no time for those so-called leaders. Well, whatever your senates objections at least I didn't decide to donate my armoury to the Foeda Flammae; Though perhaps that FF would find some quote pickaxes more useful, what with all the mining they do, hm?" Edwin gave a playful smile and nod to Dom; As he understood, this 'FF' had done quite the hatchet job on them. No matter how many times Dom tried to bring some nuance into the matter, the FF had decided to mine out only the most positive quotes while ignoring all their disavowing of their more- dangerous radical elements. Restocking the fires of war and all that wasn't something they were particularly fond of and he could see why; War had never been nice to women and the FF promoting it was what he would describe as horribly shortsighted.

"Now Elias, I am afraid you will not escape my grasp; As I said, a sign of courtesy amongst strangers. Yet I have done what research I could; A military man but an avid reader besides. And so please, accept my gift of a collection of my peoples most well known poems, finely bound and with handdone lettering and decoration by some of the finer artists of our realm." Edwin said as he took a book from the hand of Richard, who had removed it from within the box the guardsmen carried; he drew back the silk it was wrapped in to reveal the finely bound cover, the lettering silver and decorative silver leaves along the edge as he gave a light bow to offer it to the Pólemesian Prince.

---

Isabella mentally raised an eyebrow at the Glavnyan prince's less-than-perfect English. Although Evalusians officially spoke Castellano, as well as a couple of indigenous languages and/or dialects, nobles were usually taught English as soon as they were old enough to read and write. As such Isabella had grown up around the language, though like Anastasiy, she did not have much practical experience with it.

...Still, Isabella's English was much better than Anastasiy's, despite their respective accents. A difference in upbringing, I suppose, thought Isabella, with just the slightest touch of bitterness. It was no surprise that Isabella's father had wanted her to have near-perfect English; to him, the only thing she was good for was an advantageous marriage.

Isabella forced herself not to dwell on such unpleasant things, and she tried to keep the irritation from showing on her face. Instead, she plastered a pleasant smile across her features-well, she hoped that it was pleasant, at least, though who knew?-and nodded politely. "You are too kind," she said in response to his remarks regarding her gown, though there was nothing in her voice or expression to indicate any kind of modesty whatsoever. Isabella knew that the gown was lovely; it would have to be, given the amount of time that it took to make it. Besides, she had never been one for the timid glances or shy blushes or airs of false modesty that her father seemed to think all women should put on. And so what? she thought to herself. Why should I have to pretend? I know who I am and what I am capable of. Is that not enough?

Isabella dipped into a shallow curtsy after Prince Anastasiy introduced himself. "It is an honor to meet you, Prince Anastasiy," she said. "I am Isabella del Reyes, of Evalusia."

In the corner of her eye, Isabella spotted...well, her betrothed, presumably. His back was to her as he examined the refreshments, but Isabella could make out the white cowboy hat.

Of course, Of course he shows up in a cowboy hat, of all things, Isabella said silently, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew her father's reasons for betrothing her to Prince Quentin Houston of the Texas Sovereignty, of course, but that didn't make her any happier about it. She and Quentin were...very different, to put it mildly. He was this happy, goofy, carefree clown, whereas Isabella was decidedly ...not.

But he was also her ticket out of Evalusia, out of the oppressive stone walls in the mountains that were the only home she'd ever known, and if she had to live on a glorified factory farm the rest of her life to get out of there, then so be it.

At least, that's what she told herself. She had hoped for a different future, once. Espérame, Elena's note had said, the one that Isabella found in her jewelry box the day after her sister's alleged suicide. Wait for me. But she had waited six years, and still, there was nothing.

Of course, there also were those aristocrats Isabella had been in contact with, the ones who chafed under her father's rule and wanted to put someone else on the throne, but Isabella had her doubts about them, too. Who said that the person they replaced her father with-who would, undoubtedly, be some old man who had no business being there in the first place-would be any better? Isabella supposed that if said replacement was not so intent on currying the favor of the Catholic Church, or if he was not so downright sexist, it would be an...improvement. Nevertheless, Isabella was not particularly keen on putting her fate in the hands of these aristocratic revolutionaries who did nothing but talk, talk, talk. They spoke of constitutional monarchies and individual rights and freedoms, but who knew?

Yes, it would be safer to just quietly marry Prince Quentin and do as her father said. Unless...unless Elena decided to do something. But with each passing year, Isabella was less and less certain that she could put her faith in her older sister. She had her theories, of course; although she had never voiced them out loud, Isabella had suspected that Elena was in contact with the popular revolutionary movement that was growing in the countryside, but who could truly say?

Isabella knew she was overthinking everything. Whether or not she ended up marrying Quentin or not, she had to at least pretend she would do it, for now.

She purposefully glanced in Quentin's direction, before turning back to Anastasiy, an apologetic smile on her face. "I do apologize, Prince Anastasiy," she began, "but it seems that my betrothed has arrived. You will forgive me if I go find him, yes?" Isabella dipped into another shallow curtsy, then walked away, towards the refreshments that the clown she was to marry was eagerly examining.

"Prince Quentin," she said, sidling up alongside him. "I am Isabella del Reyes, of Evalusia. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The words were stiff, formal, gritted out from between teeth tightly clenched together in the politest smile that Isabella could manage. She took a steadying breath, forcing herself to focus on this moment and not on the million other things that she had to worry about. "I trust that your journey here was...pleasant?"

(Interacting with: @MorningStar1399 @OfWindAndRain)

---

With Princess Hye-ri seemingly occupied with something else, Alejandro cast his gaze about the room for something else to do. He took note of Prince Anastasiy Romanova's outfit-now there was someone he could talk fashion with, at some point-and let a flicker of amusement flit across his features as Prince Edwin Drakewine of Britannia (whose tunic was very unconventional and very unnecessary but quite excellent, in Alejandro's opinion, though not as excellent as the chitons traditionally worn by men in Pólemos) made his ostentatious entrance and headed towards his betrothed, Domitia, as well as...Prince Elias, who had been speaking to Domitia. Alejandro brought a hand up to the rubies dangling from his earlobes, briefly, almost involuntarily remembering how it had felt to do, erm, certain things with the Pólemesian prince, before his eyes landed on Prince Andronikos Telesphorides of the Athenian Federation.

Oh, now there was someone interesting. He was so very short, for one thing, and something told Alejandro that it would be amusing to talk to him.

Alejandro pranced over in his direction, cheerily snagging a fresh glass of champagne on his way over. As he got closer, he could make out the delicate gold embroidery on his suit-Oooh, now that is pretty. And the blue-very nice. To match the outfit of Valentine Blanchfleur, I presume? Who is not around, right now. Hiding, I presume. Hmm.

"Prince Andronikos! You look absolutely lovely tonight!" Alejandro said by way of greeting, beaming at the Athenian prince. "Please tell me, my dear Prince Andronikos, who you are wearing. And but oh, where are my manners? I am Prince Alejandro of Castilya." He flashed Anton a cheeky grin and leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"You must forgive me, of course, Andronikos, for being so terribly forward, but would you mind it too much if I simply called you...Ronny? It...flows better, wouldn't you think?" Alejandro's eyes twinkled with mischief and amusement as he took a step back and calmly sipped his champagne, tossing Anton a wink as he did so.

He has nice eyes. Mmm, and nice arms, too, from what I can see from here. It's a pity that he's not wearing a tighter jacket.

(Interacting with @Amethyst)

He could see the nerves seeming to burst through the girl in front of him. He didn’t want her to be nervous but he had to admit that he was nervous. He watched her take a gulp of her drink and he sighed softly to himself. ”You know I’m pretty nervous about this whole marriage. I honestly don’t think I’m ready for a betrothal but mother thinks I am.” he told her with a shrug. ”I actually think my mom just wants me to marry you so both of her sons can be ruling kings. I’m older by a few minutes but the heir in Talulia is decided by IQ and he’s a couple points above me so he is most likely to rule.” He knew he was rambling on but he didn’t know how else to communicate to Valentine when she wasn’t talking back to him. He wondered if it was because she hated this idea of their marriage as much as he did. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to get married but because he didn’t want to marry a girl. He was gay but no body knew that except him and his ex-boyfriend and maybe his father if you believed in ghosts. He looked at Valentine and shrugged. ”So it’s a pretty nice party tonight huh?”

Marriage. Betrothal. The words made Valentine shrink farther into herself. She wasn't even old enough to be married; her wedding wouldn't be for a couple years yet, and her coronation a year or so after that. She felt a flash of anger at having this engagement sprung on her, but she was too anxious to keep hold of the sharp clarity it brought. She didn't feel like a princess. She felt like an impostor, and a poor one at that.

Prince Akio talked a little about his home country, mentioning how the crown's inheritance was decided. It was an unusual method, though she wasn't sure if it would be better than primogeniture. Then again, anything would be better if it put her out of the running for the Luxemi throne.

Eventually he asked her about the party itself, a direct question that demanded some sort of response. Valentine tried to find her voice and failed. Instead of a verbal response she summoned a wan smile, though it came close to a grimace. An uncomfortable, sickly feeling curled in her gut. It probably was a nice party, but she was hardly in a state to appreciate it. She already wanted to leave.

---

After what felt like an eternity, all the other princes and princesses had arrived. Lea's jaw muscles were beginning to ache from smiling so much, but she was used to it by now. Besides, there was never anything wrong with smiling!

Lea was finally allowed to go join the festivities after Prince Edwin of Britannia arrived (wearing an outfit that looked like it came straight out of Game of Thrones, or something. Lea thought that it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen. That, and Domitia's literal suit of armor). She giggled a bit at Edwin's rhetoric-an "inexorable battle against deniers of climate change", indeed-and thanked him for the necklace, which was absolutely beautiful.

Lea sighed contentedly and swept her eyes around the room, snagging a chocolate strawberry as she did so. Beside her, Princess Mila Ford of Krieg-Konigreich and Princess Ivelynne Burnley of Notia were talking to each other. Lea waved cheerily at them as she passed by, throwing them a warm smile. She skirted the edges of the ballroom as she made a beeline for the snack table on the other side of the huuuuuge room (that's where the vegan mochi was, if she recalled correctly), smiling a greeting at Prince Yu and Prince Elijah, who were standing by the paintings. "I love the hair, by the way!" she called over her shoulder to Prince Yu.

When she was at the other refreshments table, Lea eagerly scanned the selection, until...aha! Coffee-flavored mochi ice cream, made with coconut milk. She popped one into her mouth and grabbed a glass of champagne. The little flute-thingymajiggies that they used for champagne were so pretty, in Lea's opinion.

Lea turned, slightly, and caught sight of Princess Genevieve Anders of Maris re-entering the ballroom just a tad to her left, accompanied by Hui-Bawa of Du-Wassi. Lea beamed at them. "Yo! How's it going?" she said, appraising both of their outfits. She gave Genevieve a wide grin. "Everything about your outfit is just on point, by the way. Your hair, your make-up-OMG your lipstick-that dress..." Lea trailed off, laughing. "I'm sure you get the point. Wow, sorry for babbling on and on and on and on, you know. Everyone says that I talk too much, which I guess is true, but sometimes it just be like that." She glanced at Hui-Bawa. “And you look great, too.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lea noticed Princess Liviana Viriatus hanging out in the corner, sort of near the orchestra. Lea gave her a cheery wave-an invitation to join the three of them, if Liv wanted to. Holy shit, her hair is so pretty, Lea thought.

(Interacting with: @Amethyst @lady horatio @Bloonewb, mentioned: @Ezmeralda @polyatomicbeing @Eric Horst @alexfangtalon)

As Alenjandro left, Erik’s eyes skimmed the crowded ballroom for another familiar face. And that’s when he saw Vera. Finishing the last remeninets in the flute of champagne, Erik made his way to Vera.

Now, Erik had quite an interesting relationship with Vera. He only had begun to interact with her because of Yelena. Had it not been for Yelena, Erik doubted that he would have ever paid too much attention to Vera at all, and he knew that Vera felt the same. After all both of them were far too different. Vera was serious, ambitious, and had an invested interest in Rustavyan affairs- both domestic and foreign. Erik on the other hand, preferred to live life quietly. He liked to live life on his own terms, and really didn’t like to draw too much attention to himself. This really wouldn’t have been too big of a deal had he not been related to the people he was related too- nearly all his relatives had a much higher degree of nationalistic pride. It was always the crown and state before the self, even in Anastasia and Adelaide, the more unlikely members of the Veredunian Crown But Erik didn't feel that way. For the most part, it had been self before the crown- every action of his was purely self-motivated. Including that of joining the Veredunian Navy. Vera was far too much like his relatives- he knew that she would always be suspicious of him because of this. Like his relatives, Vera could never understand how someone could put themselves before the welfare of their state.

And that was okay because of Yelena. Had it not been for Yelena, neither one of them would have interacted. And because of Yelena, Erik lived to make the Rustavyan heiress uncomfortable in every possible way. Therefore, when Erik walked up to Vera, he did so with a wide grin.

“I have to say, you were the last person I expected to be here,” Erik admitted.

After all, there was a reason as to why he was here instead of his relatives. Such events were of little consequence to them, and he knew Vera felt the same way. After all, she was a little too much like them for his own comfort.

---

Vera was dying. Figuratively, as if the ISO would allow her to die, and most certainly not in this land. When she does die it’ll either be on Rustavyan soil, or in space because space is cool. She sighed as she made polite introductions to figures she deemed valuable before quickly moving along in her search for some of her beloved vermouth-y drinks. So far, she had failed and was making do with Dubonnet and gin. It wasn’t her favourite, but it’d do for the moment, particularly as she noted an endearing headache making his way over. Not that she would ever admit she found Erik von Rothschild endearing, and certainly not to his face.

If not for Yelena’s involvement, Vera would’ve more or less disregarded Erik’s existence. He wasn’t exactly the best person for a political alliance, nor even as a political adversary, and not really on Vera’s radar as a new bff. He was a party boy, Vera was far more interested in the affairs of his siblings and cousins. The Veredunian royal family were quite the interesting bunch, even with the… complicated relations between their realms, Vera couldn’t help but admire Catherine. A woman truly worthy of the epithet; “Great”. No one embodied “L'etat c'est Moi” quite as well as that woman.

In comparison to Catherine, Erik was a frivolous teenager, well, more of a barely tolerable YA. In matters of politics, Erik was, quite frankly, irrelevant, but in lieu of a dubious military general to play a game of psychological warfare, bristly blonde would have to do.

---

Vera shrugged, “someone had to play diplomat.”

“Oh is that what we are supposed to be doing?” Erik asked with a playful grin.

Diplomacy was not Erik's thing, nor did he was it to be. Politics to him was not only horribly boring but was also corrupting. He could easily blame the desire of power and control for completely ruining any semblance of a normal family life that Erik could have possibly had. The lust for power had a way of bringing out the worst in people and Erik was determined to stay as far away from it as possible.

“I did say play,” Vera vaguely gestured around at the mingling royals, “it’s just children playing pretend.”

Erik’s eyes followed hers, skimming over the faces of the various royals gathered in the ballroom. She was right of course. All said and done, Veredun and Rustavya were similar in more than one way- questionable human rights, censorship, quasi-dictatorial (both Veredun and Rustavya were on the spectrum, though at different stages obviously), and of course the glamour. Though Rustavyan social structure was a bit different, the aesthetic was the same as Veredun- diamonds, and a lot of it. Compared to that, this was a bit lackluster to be honest. Then again, what on earth could compare at all?

“And since when do you hang around children at all? I thought grumpy old people, stuffed in tailored coats were your target crowd.”

Vera mockingly gasped. “Are you calling Yelena old? I’ll be sure to tell her that.” But he was right. These starry eyed does were not her companions of choice, nor, she doubted, they would ever be, and there is much to be said about the importance of a well tailored suit. “I was commanded, in the end, by daddy dearest, and I believe you’re aware of how difficult it is to contradict someone ruling under the laws of the ancien régime.”

Erik rolled his eyes playfully at Yelena's comment.

“I still don't know how you both are such close friends,” Erik remarked.

Yelena was one of the most easy-going, kind-hearted and charismatic people he had ever met. She was genuinely just a nice person. Now Vera on the other hand, was a little harder to read. He knew that deep down, Vera was a morally upstanding person as well. However, she was far too politically motivated and ambitious to let that show. She was cautious, and he didn't blame her. She had to be for the environment she was born into and for the role she would soon assume. Had Erik not been born into the life he had been, he was sure that he would steer clear of Vera, brushing her off to be another cold-hearted, ambitious, cunning figure.

And upon her second remark, Erik smirked in response.

“Oh don't I know,” he added dryly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I think the real question is why she is so different from the rest of us,” Vera retorted. She loved Yelena with all her heart, but the girl was an outlier. Yelena was the certified mediator, optimist, and fun times organizer of their friend circle in Rustavya. Everyone else, including Vera, was always too preoccupied with some sort of scheme and far too dramatic to bother with any of that. Even her cousins who mainly preferred wasting away in their palace had some jaded views despite their overall lack of interest in politics, plus they had cold personalities to match Vera’s and their country, Yelena meanwhile sauntered around everywhere with sunlight pouring out of her, flowers in her hair and birds singing in the distance like a Disney princess. “I suppose you may have some insight into that Mr. Boyfriend.”

Erik raised his eyebrow at that comment, a small smile stretching across his lips the minute the topic of Yelena came up.

“Oh I don’t know, it may have something to do with you know, having a heart, a conscience and morals?” Erik questioned dryly.

She was different. And that’s precisely why Erik liked her as much as he did. Erik had always found Yelena to be intriguing, right from the first conversation they had ever had. He still remembered the exact details of the night- Yelena stood out in the crowded Rustavyan bar. And it was not because of her couture clothing or the fact that she was draped in diamonds. It was her personality- she was charismatic. Every other woman in that bar was there for ulterior motives, But Yelena seemed to be there just out of curiosity. He really didn’t know why she was there, that topic never came up. He remembered talking to her the entire night vividly, although he couldn't recall any specific topics that were discussed. It was just a little bit of everything. And at the end of the night, they exchanged numbers and kept in touch sporadically. They’d talk once in a while. Erik’s lack of communication made it hard for them to keep in touch consistently. Therefore, they’d go for long periods without any communication at all. But when they did talk, they did so all night. Every single topic under the sun was covered, and it was almost like they’d never fallen out of touch at all. Soon enough, Erik began to look forward to visiting Rustavya more and more just to see Yelena. And when they did eventually begin to date, it was the most natural progression of events. For the first time in his life, Erik did not feel claustrophobic or nauseous at the idea of long-term commitment. After all, Yelena and Erik had developed a strong enough friendship for that, or at least they did so in Erik’s mind. A relationship was a natural progression.

And it was this rationalization that had led him to remain in a relationship with Yelena for as long as he had- it was his longest relationship ever. It was the first time he had ever truly emotionally connected with anyone apart from his own siblings, Ferdinand and Juliet. And naturally, his relationship with Yelena wasn’t the same. For the first time in his life, Erik didn’t feel entirely isolated or alone. He truly felt as if he had a companion- someone who genuinely did understand and accept him for who he was. And he knew Yelena did, because she didn’t see him as the frivolous “party boy” most people saw him as. She saw far beyond that and accepted him wholeheartedly for who he was.

Man, he really didn’t deserve someone as good as Yelena, Erik thought to himself silently as his smile widened a little more at Vera’s following comment.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Erik asked curiously, though he had his suspicions at what she was inferring of course.

Vera simply shrugged her shoulders lightly in response. “You know,” she began. “You’re well.. You,” she stated skeptically, her eyes skimming over Erik’s figure in a unique mixture of distaste and disapproval. “And your relatives are exceptional to say the least,” she added flatly.

Vera’s observations were not new ones. It was really surprising how Erik was related to his family at all. They seemed to differ from him in every possible way. His grandmother, Empress Catherine was credited as being one of the most influential female leaders in the world and was just as highly respected, as she was feared. Like his grandmother, his aunts and uncles all commanded the same air of regal prestige and respect. When she was alive, his mother had too. As did Elisabeth, his newly discovered aunt. As for his cousins and older siblings, each one of them was highly accomplished. Morally questionable of course, but highly accomplished nonetheless. Medicine, genetic research, cultural heritage conservation, art, entertainment, law, public policy, governance, military- and so much more. And each one of them was more cold and distant than the other (twisted, cruel and downright sociopathic as well, but that was a whole different story). But more than that, each one of his relatives were ambitious. They aimed for the stars and often achieved their goal, one way or the other. But more than anything, every one of his relatives would gladly give up their lives and their own individual happiness if it was for the welfare of Veredun, and the protection of its crown. No questions asked.

But Erik wasn’t like them. Erik longed to live life on his own terms- he wished to travel the world, meet new people, experience new cultures. He had a lust for life which was incompatible with the structure of the Veredunian society and its unique brand of multinational and multicultural nationalism. And perhaps that was why both Yelena and Erik worked as well as they did in a relationship. Both of them, in their own ways were so incredibly different from their environments. Both of them stood out from the people around him. The difference was that Yelena was beloved exactly for that and Erik despised. And he was fine with that. It’s not like he cared too much about what people thought of him anyway. As long as they didn’t go killing his siblings, or try to control him in any possible way, Erik was fine. In fact, he’d rather everyone consider him to be a good-for-nothing, immature child. That way, they’d always have low expectations for him, and wouldn’t be too bothered with what he did with his life. It was the best of both worlds really- they got to leave feeling superior, and Erik got his freedom.

“You mean sane, law-abiding and generally sociable? Then yes, I am.” Erik answered with a cheeky grin. “As for my relatives, I do agree- they sure are exceptional. Though I wouldn’t consider them to be aspirational,” he added dryly.

Hearing that comment, Vera rolled her eyes.
“Speak for yourself pixie cut,” Vera commented dryly.

“I sure am,” Erik answered with a wide grin, knowing all too well that it would infuriate her.

Erik lived for this- to annoy Vera. The one thing he had noticed was that Vera despised it when her insults were interpreted as compliments, and when someone bombarded her with endless stupid questions on a topic that was quite straightforward and obvious. She also found Erik’s general extroverted nature particularly annoying, which inspired Erik to be all the more happy, bubbly and extroverted around her. After all, this was his favourite hobby on the planet.

But having said that, Erik did not have a pixie cut. That of course was an argument for another day. He knew he had good hair. He invested time and effort into taking care of it. And it paid off to be honest. Erik’s hair was often the subject of compliments and admiration, especially from strangers. His own family hardly noticed it, Juliet aside of course. But everyone else did. And that was enough for him. After all, Alejandro had just complimented Erik on his hair proving that it was good, and not just some dry mop. And definitely not a pixie cut. There was only one time in his life he had ever had a pixie cut and Erik was determined never to go back to the “dark days” ever again. Thankfully, he’d managed to get all the pictures of those days back and entirely removed from social media and the internet in general. Of course, that had cost him quite a bit, but it was worth it. After all, that meant that only a select few had ever seen Erik at his lowest point in life. Sure, Vera was one of them (and the cause of it considering she’s the one who dared him to do so in the first place), but as long as her millions of followers didn’t see it, he was good. After all, he did have a reputation to maintain.





@DracarysBitch

A faint rush of color graced their cheeks as Elias pointed out (amusedly, it seemed) the semantic difference of sparring and dueling. Dom inclined their head to him. “Forgive me. A linguistic difference, I suppose; we address both as the same in Lusitania.” A duel was only fatal if you were sloppy.

A razor of a smile crossed their lips, becoming arguably more pronounced when he mentioned Dafni. They’d heard of Dafni Kokinos, of course – who hadn’t? A princess, and an Olympian. And… kind of beautiful.

Thankfully, they were saved from the conversation, and the thought, by the arrival of none other than their betrothed. Try as they might they couldn’t stifle a laugh, inclining their head with a florally eloquent greeting on their tongue, which slipped away for a moment as he produced gifts.

Liviana had sidled over at some point, even Dom’s powers of observation not keeping track of their aunt’s quiet movements, and stood now slightly off to the side, peering up at Edwin with poorly-disguised adoration in her wide blue eyes.

Poor Livi. She would have done so well with Edwin… but she has a chance here. Not stuck like I would have been. Dom pushed the thought out of their mind, accepting the offered memory card with a smile and a surprisingly-especially for themself-graceful bow in the ostentatious Brittanian style. The card was quickly tucked away in a pocket in the padded material under their chestplate – by far the least awkward pocket to access in polite company.

At the remark about the FF they let out a tired sound, some cross between an acerbic laugh and an exasperated sigh. There had been so many interviews and speeches, quotes dredged up from dozens of appearances and thrown together in newsletters to make it seem as though Dom had been doing nothing but singing the organization’s praises.

For a moment they stood quietly, not getting in the way as Edwin offered Liv and Elias their gifts. But with that pleasantry out of the way, they inclined their head to Edwin, stepping a bit closer and extending their hand to clasp with his in a gesture of affection – belatedly remembering that it was not the feminine person’s place to initiate a display of such. But, it was too late for them to retract it.

There were so many things they wanted to ask him, more than a few of which were related to the betrothal that had been very raggedly and hastily arranged upon their last state visit. That said, they could not very well think of a diplomatic way to ask when the wedding had been set for, or if it had even been set at all.

“I trust the journey was uneventful?” they asked him at last, the formal English heavy and awkward on their tongue.

---

---

Liviana was used to even her niece not seeing her, and felt only a small stab of sadness as the taller person’s gaze slid right over her no fewer than three times. She’d only left her perch behind the orchestra upon seeing Edwin (though her face warmed at the thought of anyone calling her out on it) and carefully made her way through the crowd to greet him.

The gift of music was graciously accepted, the memory chip quickly tucked away into her clutch. Edwin’s next words, however, made her feel as though the floor had tumbled away under her feet.

Her father was not going to be happy with the Britannian prince. That much money (in itself more than the organization’s yearly funds had been in nearly a decade!) meant publications, advertisements on the internet and maybe even on television, travel funds for speakers to go to schools and city senates, and, of course, the handful of yearly scholarships that would send brilliant young women abroad for their educations.

So many possibilities.

Tears started welling up, though she bid them to stop before they ruined her eyeliner – a handkerchief was pulled from her purse and she delicately dabbed at her eyes, beaming up at Edwin. So many words that she could have said to thank him bubbled up, getting stuck just behind her teeth and fighting to get out.

No. Silence. Father told you not to embarrass him. You can’t speak well enough to adequately convey your thanks, either. The words died on her tongue and she swallowed them, hoping she didn’t look the part of a totally blubbering idiot, and very deliberately stepped closer to him, awkwardly wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his side, knowing he would be able to feel her tense shoulders and entire body shaking.

She stepped away after a long moment, peering up at him and hoping that had conveyed her message. Offering him a tiny, awkward curtsy, she stepped a respectful distance away and was then confronted by another problem. Qvi was no longer on her shoulder.

Gods damn that pretty little creature, she thought. As she cast around the room in search of the bird (Knowing that it had likely just taken off in frustration at the hug, or perhaps to relieve itself) her gaze settled on none other than the gracious hostess – Lea.

Gods, who was that with her? She didn’t know their names, of course she didn’t know their names – her father had not deigned to tell her such trivial information – but he was a veritable giant.

Timidly, the diminutive princess crossed the room – bringing her fingers to her mouth and whistling out a quiet string of three notes. It was echoed from somewhere in the glitzy chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, though she couldn’t turn to look, knowing the lights would make her dizzy. She whistled it again and there was silence, but soon a grudging flapping of wings surrounded her and Qvi lightly settled on her shoulder, letting out an irritable chirp.

Just in time, too, as they came face to face with Lea and the prince and princess that Liv didn’t quite recognize. The tiny girl dipped a small curtsy, curls swishing around as she did and tumbling over her shoulder- thankfully the shoulder that didn’t have a bird on it. “Ave, Lea!” she chirped, a bit louder than she initially intended, eyes going wide just a moment later and her hand instinctively coming up to cover her mouth. After a split second, her thin shoulders slumped, the hand being forced to move to a strand of her hair as though casual fidgeting had been the intention all along.

oh gods oh gods you’re so loud and annoying oh, gods father is going to kill you if you manage to annoy Lea, Endovelicus save you if he sees you being this much of an idiot…

Oh God, what had the prince of tradition-bound Britannia done this time? The thought and others like it shot through Rhia's head when she saw what could only be described as his entourage. Most of the visiting royalty had small, unobtrusive guards or servants. Prince Edwin Drakewine entered with a visual fanfare.

She wished, not for the first time, that she could deny any association with the Britannians. At least he provided her with a good excuse to approach the princess clad in full plate armor.

"Prince Edwin! I hope you had an easy flight over," Rhia told him with a polite smile. "And I don't believe I've met your partner in conversation. You must introduce me." As introductions were made in Edwin's loquacious style, Rhia turned a bright smile on Domitia. Now here's a lass that could keep me on my toes, she thought to herself, then quickly corrected herself. Not a lass, but rather -- what even was the gender-neutral equivalent? A thought for another time. "It's lovely to meet you," she said aloud. "I've heard a lot, but news and social media can only be trusted so far. I look forward to getting to know you in person." Rhia's expression turned sly, and her grin widened. "I have to say, you know how to make an impression. I'm guessing there's a significance behind your armor, but I have to say I do not know it. Would you tell me?"

Akio was shy. He was often reserved and distant if he didn’t have to be. There always came times when he wished to just be by a fire reading a book when he instead he had royal work to do. That didn’t mean he tried less on that work. He wanted to rule and he wanted to just generally be seen as a nice person. So he didn’t know why Valentine was being so silent. Not a word or sound had come out of her lips and Akio couldn’t decide if it was because she was tired, nervous, being rude or something else though. He wouldn’t get mad though. He would stay calm and try to be as kind and calming as he could be. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t stop talking to her though. They would have to get married in a few years and if he didn’t make a good first impression now then that chance would be gone forever.
”Are you mute or is it just the nerves or something that is keeping you quiet?” He asked her holding up a finger for each option so if she really was mute she could hold up a one for the first option. He would try to keep this conversation going even if it was very one sided. He had to admit though that the idea of her being mute made a lot of sense. There was almost no information about her online and the things he had found had come mostly from Prince Andronikos. It was frustrating to say the least to know almost nothing of the princess and how she felt about ruling her country let alone ruling beside him as well for Talulia.
Her being mute, could have its benefits though. Secrets would be kept with no fear of her slipping them, including the secrets about himself and how if they did get married, he would be unhappy. Valentine being mute could prove problematic but it also could prove beneficial.
He smiled down at her small form and sighed. ”Well it’s nice to make your acquaintance, princess. Maybe at another time I could introduce you to my brother Aito and you can introduce me to Prince Andronikos or anyone else of choice.”

Interacting with: @shylarah

Prince Akio chattered away at her, and it took all her focus to keep from just tuning out. Did he never stop? Or was he just making up for her inability to contribute to the conversation? ...Oh and now he thought she might be mute. What a wonderful way to start things off. She pried the hand not holding her champagne free of her purse strap and flicked a quick pair of fingers in the prince's general direction. If she wasn't so nervous she would have been red with shame.

'Nice to make your acquaintance'? What a laugh. She was a sham, a lie, destined to be a figurehead and probably unable to do even that right. Introduce him to people? And how was she supposed to do that, when she couldn't even manage a hello?! Prince Akio's attempts at conversation were only making her feel worse. She wanted to hide, or run, or...just go anywhere to be left alone.

Unfortunately, between the shame and the anxiety, she let herself grow careless. The first sign she'd done something wrong was the subtle snick that she felt in her fingers more than heard. She relaxed her grip at once, but it was too late, and only served to permit the severed base of the glass to fall in a slow arc of failure to land ringing like churchbells on the floor. It wasn't that loud, with the talking and the band, though she heard it clearly as it hit and shattered in pieces at her feet.

But that wasn't the worst of it. The pain across the middle of her fingers could only mean one thing, and she couldn't handle that. Not here. Not now. Val watched in mute horror as the hand that didn't seem to belong to her slowly uncurled, heedless of the other half of the glass it still held. Empty noise filled her ears; the color drained from her face; now she did lean against the wall behind her as she stared blankly at the drops of blood welling from where she'd cut herself on the edges of the glass.

As the princess held up multiple fingers, saying that she was not mute, Akio nodded and smiled small. ”Sorry if the question offended you in any way. I just wish to learn about you and get to know you.” He told her. He then shrugged and sighed. “It’s ok to be nervous. It is quite a big party and event. Maybe a less eventful situation would be a better time to truly make each other’s acquaintance. he smiled at her and looked down before looking at her eyes again. ”My room is on the third floor. Number 312. I have your room number already. My mom and brother went a little overboard on the research.”

He was finishing his pleasantries and telling her that it was nice to meet her and he hoped to get to know her when her glass fell to the floor he looked at it and grabbed some napkins to start cleaning it up and to pick up the glass. He then looked at Valentine and saw her staring at a cut across her fingers that was bleeding. He quickly figured out that it was from the glass and he looked for another napkin. After not seeing one for a couple of seconds he pulled out the fabric of his pocket square and unfolded it. He the gently took Valentine’s hand and pressed the fabric against her fingers to try and stop the bleeding. ”It’s ok it’s only a little cut. We can keep pressure on it to stop the bleeding and then disinfect and cover the cut to prevent infection.” He told her and smiled at her.

He wanted to keep her calm. She was already nervous enough from the party and meeting him, that a fear of blood could put her into a panic attack or something similar. He tapped one of the attendants that were cleaning up the glass and asked him to go get a first aid kit and bring it to the garden. He then turned to Valentine and smiled again. ”This big crowd isn’t helping. Let’s go out to the garden so you can calm down in the quiet fresh air.” he said before he gently began to lead her outside while still keeping pressure on her cut. Once outside he settled her down on a bench and sat next to her while holding her hand. He decided to stay quiet, knowing that the silence was probably what she needed to calm down.