Time: Late Evening
Location: Guest House
Interactions:
Mentions: @princess Anastasia @Mole Felix

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A cool wind wrapped around the small, blonde figure that stood on the balcony of the reading room of the guest house. Now dressed in an off-white nightgown and a dark colored bottle in her hand, Lady Thea Smithwood stared up at the moon. After her breakdown on the balcony outside the ballroom, she had made way back inside and found Anastasia. She’d quietly informed her friend that she would be missing the after party that night and promised to elaborate more on her sadness later. Her only request was for her dear friend to secretly have alcohol sent to her rooms, but Anastasia had done more than that. Thea had then informed her mother she was leaving the ball early and had been escorted to her room. Upon arriving at her rooms, Thea had found the alcohol along with a few handsome young men. Thea attempted to enjoy their company, but ultimately she ended up dismissing them and drinking alone. Anastasia had been a doll and had whiskey sent to the room, something Thea immediately began consuming.

Once one bottle had been emptied, Thea had opened another and decided to roam the halls. She drank as she walked, humming a song to herself and getting odd looks from a few servants. She eventually found herself in the reading room, a place that was currently empty and out of the path of servants. So she decided to retire to the balcony, wishing to gaze at the stars and feel the cool night air. Her mind was plagued with dark thoughts and the alcohol was doing nothing tonight to quiet those thoughts. Deep sadness filled her as silent tears spilled down her cheeks. Her gaze traveled from the sky above, down until she was glancing at the cobbled path below. How dull that path looked with its muted gray stones, she thought. Surely it would look better with some color. Perhaps I could provide that color. She thought darkly to herself, taking another drink of the burning liquid before she began climbing up onto the railing.

What would it feel like to leap from here? Would it be a swift fall or would it take ages before I landed on that ugly, dull path? Would I feel the pain? She balanced herself on the railing, standing there and staring down below as she swayed only a little. Would the pain be worse than what I feel right now? She leaned forward ever so slightly, tempting fate and her increasingly inebriated state. It would be so simple, she need only take one step.

The sound of voices made her gasp as her head whipped upwards. Her foot slipped and she found herself falling backwards, landing hard on her bottom on the balcony and likely being out of sight of any who would be approaching. ”Shit…” She mumbled as she glanced over at the now spilt bottle, quickly snatching it up. There was only a small amount left in it now and she sighed as she slowly got back up to her feet, the world spinning a little. She could hear the voice of Felix below her and a mixture of emotions ran through her. An idea ran through her mind then and, before thinking things through, she downed the small amount of liquid left in the bottle before leaving the reading room and heading back towards the guest rooms.

Instead of finding herself in her room, she found herself entering the room of Prince Felix. What in the world was she doing? She needed to talk to him, yes, that was it. Yes, I need to talk to him about…wait, what DO I need to talk to him about? I just...need to talk to him. She began pacing back and forth in the room, but this was only making the world spin worse and she found herself tripping over things. It was making it very hard to get her thoughts together so she decided maybe she should sit down. She made her way to the bed and plopped herself down on it, but still everything was spinning. Maybe if she lay down? Before she could think about it, Thea was laying back on the bed and closing her eyes to try and stop the world from spinning.

_{^{L O C A T I O N : C A E S O N I A C A S T L E B A L L R O O M I N S O R I A N
I N T E R A C T I O N S : L A D Y T H E A S M I T H W O O D
M E N T I O N S : @Rodiak , @Tae}}



As the evening quieted and he left Sir Mathias with his on, Prince Felix thought other than going to his guest room. If he did, it would only be out of convenience and conviction. There were other things he could do, but for the evening, he thought it better not to force his timing. He also felt a sense of outward exhaustion. He thought to blame the little amount of wine he had but knew better. There many other things on his mind. As much as these banquets delighted in the favors of everyone attending, he felt at once very at odds with the entire event — especially after his conversation with the knight. For the present moment, now anyways, he wished to remove his mask and allow himself some sort of rest.

Prince Felix imagined his way to his guest room. He thought upon entering and feigning interest in the decor with it, he would find himself restless, once settled. There would still be much going in his thoughts. He would replay certain events of the evening. They reworked and analyzed conversations. And finally, they would most likely settle on the dance, he had had with his beloved Lady Thea. The shadows of her eyes had dared not look at his when she departed him, and something about this would cause him to re-address every angle of the dance.

There were things he could have done differently. There were things he could have said differently. There was a certain number of steps he could have taken but did not. The prince might let out a small sigh. Perhaps, even it would be quiet against the dark glow of the guest room. It would then proceed to linger in a lonely manner and without much of anything vanished into a simple, normal breath. He thought then, that he would stand from the bed after having tried to make himself comfortable, turn on a light, and make his way to the writing desk.

He would then pull a wooden chair and take his seat. His arms would rest on the ornate desk, and his eyes would concentrate forward. He would think to take a scrap of paper and scribble a few words of nothing or perhaps romantic poetry for the Lady in hopes of easing the perpetual tension. However, he would probably stop himself. There would, as he knew, be too many uncertainties floating around in her behavior, and while seeming like a good gesture, he would wonder if a thoughtfully written letter would be a more assertive and preferred.

His hand would touch the pen and loose pieces of complimentary paper, as it always did, while he would think about his opening. And then, slowly, his hand, while holding the pen, would begin to move the ink across the paper. Unfortunately, as quickly as the words would come, they would quickly disappear from his mind, and his paper would be, he continued to imagine, left with an unfinished sentence of empty romance. He would stare at the few markings, written in royal cursive and perhaps discard the entire thing entirely.

This imagined situation perturbed him, and the prince thought to go to the tavern for another drink. He hated to foresee himself to be feeling such a sense of emptiness, but he hastily understood the tavern to be an excellent place for guests to continue their camaraderie of the party’s aftermath. He had little patience for endearing such an event and made even with the fact that he would have to endure the pains of whatever nothingness lay ahead of him. Like the rain, the pain will not last. He thought to himself after finding himself at his door, alas.

His hand gently turning the doorknob, but something seemed distant upon continuing to open the door. It felt much different than he had anticipated. Something was disarray. He felt alarmed but not too alarmed. It was an out-of-place feeling, as if he was not alone. He hesitated upon entering and thought to remove himself from the situation and find a servant to handle whatever was happening. However, he thought his caution was a bit much and with his hand on his hilt, ready for whatever it was, he entered the room.

“My lady,” the prince mouthed automatically. His hand was still nestled over the hilt. Despite her being the very thing on his mind, he had a hard time relaxing his hand. The surprise was less than a savory present for him to appreciate with gratitude. He closed the door behind him with he same kind grace he has used to open it. “You ought not be here.” She looked horridly tragic and beautiful all at once.

Interactions:@princess Anastasia @Helo Callum

"Aw for fuck sakes. Is this bitch soft in the head? Thats not why I want to ge-" Munir thought to himself. He was just trying to get on her brother's good side in order to get into her sheets. Now she is openly asking if he was gay? Not what he was planning. Alas, he decided to turn a disaster into an potential opportunity. He was not going to fail in his mission...

He smiled at Anastasia, as she was calling out her questions to Callum. He moved her hand from his cheek, gave it a soft kiss before saying "Ah princess. You're too sweet..." before lowering his voice and leaning close to her ear and continuing "So sweet, that I might want to take a bite myself. Don't go stray too far. I'll want to sample your sweetness before night's end." He offered a small bow before turning his attention over to Callum, not noticing he is already under the influence of some sort of concoction.

A servant passed the group by, with a tray carrying a variety of drinks. He grabbed himself a pre-made drink that was green in color, with black tendrils at the bottom of the glass. "Interesting. This must be the Noble's Venom. How fitting..." Munir thought to himself before taking a deep sip of the drink and setting the glass back down on a nearby table. Turning towards Callum, Munir put on his more seductive and charming smile and said airily "Prince Callum Danrose, I have heard of your majesty and dashing looks, and now beholding them in person, one must say that you're awe inspiring... Say, what are your thoughts in doing something more... exotic...? Hm?"

Time:Evening
Location: Marek's Afterparty
Interactions: @Infinite Cosmos Munir @Helo Callum
Attire:An Outfit that would make her mother faint

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Anastasia's lashes fluttered at the sensual comment being whispered in her ear. She whirled on him, slightly biting her lip as she grinned. She trailed a finger down his arm just before he bowed, "Careful. I might give you a sugar rush." The prince of the Alidasht was so smooth and sexy. She absolutely adored him. As he turned his attention to Callum, she had fangirled for a moment, almost squealing out loud. Though he had initially seemed interested in Callum, she could tell quite obviously he wanted a bite out of her as he had said.

Speaking of the devil, Callum came over laughing up a storm. Normally, she might have picked up on his unusual mannerisms, but she found herself absolutely thrilled to see her favorite little brother having so much fun. "He's looking to talk to you! He likes you!" Anastasia enthusiastically informed Callum. She couldn't help but laugh along with him as she picked up her drink in hand. Figuring she'd probably get distracted and never drink it if she kept up the cycle of picking up and placing down, she started to chug it, dimly aware of Leo's voice filling the air. Her head was hung backward completely as she downed it.

"Ahhh." She finished off her Noble's Venom and got rid of the glass, tossing it aside. When Callum asked if he was boring, she had replied, "Um! No way! You are super exciting right now. It was so fun when you climbed up on the table with me tonight!"

Leo went on his way to get another drink, an excellent choice of course. She would have perhaps joined him for another, but her attention was more focused on Munir now flirting up her brother. Anastasia slowly turned her head to watch the interaction. Ooh so maybe he was saying that stuff to me to get to Callum after all. Guess he is gay. I wonder why he's playing games. I'm clearly happy to help!

"I love Callum. I will protect him from anything and everyone." She fiercely interjected. "So if you are interested in my little brother, you will have to pass the test..." She energetically bound over to Munir and put an arm around him, gesturing to Callum, "You see, my pretty-faced Munir... This isn't just any prince. This is a state-of-the-art Prince Callum Danrose. He is the best Caesonia has to offer. So you can understand that not just anybody can take him on an exotic journey of love-making. We'll have to-" Though she had intended to sound fierce and protect her brother, she simply was becoming more enthusiastic and energetic as if they were about to play a fun game, "INTERROGATE YOU!" Anastasia exclaimed and giggled. She paused to point at his drink, "Oh nice! I just drank the same thing!"

---

For Mayet, whom had almost finished her drink, it didn't take much for her eyes to instantly wander as Roman undid a few buttons at the neck of his shirt. At this moment, Mayet already knew there was something strange. Despite that though, half of her mind wanted to simply to give in to her instincts and literally pounce at Roman while the other half struggled to keep herself calm.

Even though Roman was speaking about what she had mentioned about Nala, about how Callum wasn't very good on the 'physical' part or how he wasn't a good fighter, due to the effect of the drink, Mayet was already having a hard time keeping herself from jumping at him. Let alone paying attention at his words. The moment he suggested them to finish their drinks and dance, complete with even a small provocation, Mayet let out a mischievous smirk as she suddenly got up, walked towards Roman until she was standing right in front of him.

"I wonder... If you are doing it on purpose..." Mayet said, looking to Roman with a mischievous smirk as her eyes focused on his once again, clearly referring to his shirt and how he was flirting with her.

"You are playing a very dangerous game, Roman. I am not a woman that is satisfied with a one night stand nor a woman that likes being used and thrown away..." Mayet said, putting her hands on the chair's armrest as she leaned forwards getting so close that her own lips were inches close from his, in a way Roman couldn't get up or escape from her.

"Are you ready? To dance with a tigress...?" Mayet asked with a mischievous smirk as she gave a step back, finishing the little that was remaining of her drink and looked back at Roman, waiting for his reply.

The scent of iron rode the wind and traveled through Sorian, fading in intensity and blending with other scents as it sailed through the air. By the time it reached Wayra’s nostrils, there was little left of the original smell. Yet Wayra could tell it was fresh blood from a life that was snuffed out much too early. As tragic as it was to hear the end of a song, this was nothing new here. There were plenty of other stories that came to an abrupt end tonight. If others cared enough to be more attentive, they’d’ve noticed it too. Not that it would change anything even if they did.

Sorian, the supposed grand jewel of Caesonia, reeked of rot. This place has been stagnant for much too long. Because nothing changed, the city decayed, infecting the very foundation with a taint. It would only be a matter of time till the infected pillars collapsed under the weight of the elite, crushing everyone below them in their wake. No one would come out unscathed from it. Even the highborn wouldn’t be immune to the consequences. Not if something changes soon. Perhaps, in their limited wisdom, it was what the crown was attempting to do by extending their annual party invitation to Alidasht.

A zephyr whispered to Wayra to look up. They raised their heads just in time to watch an owl release whatever it held in its talons. Wayra grabbed the furry thing before it hit the ground and examined it more closely. A headless, legless, tailless “rat”. Wayra brought the rat closer to their nose to sniff it. The pelt was definitely that of a rat, but this thing came from the freckled Varian. The unmistakable odor of his pipe seeped deeply into the fur. Wayra turned the rat around in their hands for a bit before plunging their fingers into its belly. The threads that held the skin in place snapped, allowing the entails —a cloth— to spill out. A cloth that smelled primarily of the dark-eyed Varian but also had a strong scent of another person. Snot and tears from another person. It wasn’t the best quality of ingredients they’ve ever worked with, but they’d have to make do.

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To Karleen, the lifestyle of the upper class was something that came straight out of a fairy tale. The glitz and glam were candy to the giantess’ eyes, making her heart skip a beat just looking at them. The soothing music, enticing aromas, and delectable treats only added to her awe. How much she wanted to revel in the fantasy for a while longer. On the other hand, she knew she couldn't. Parties had to come to an end at some point, and she had to be grateful for even being able to set foot in the castle.

Though the muscles in Karleen’s face didn’t move an inch, inside the woman smiled at the thought of being able to walk freely without shackles. A simple action that so many on the surface took for granted. Something that Karleen could now do, just like the commoners.

The life of the upper class might’ve been what the giantess dreamed of being a part of, but for the better part of her life, Karleen believed that the life of a commoner sounded too good to be true too: the autonomy —no matter how limited—, to be able to claim something as your own, to have a name that was not just a string of numbers and letters. Foreign concepts, outlandish ideas, dreams worth fighting tooth and nail for. While she understood that some people considered these to be the bare minimum for a decent life, anything more than these was a luxury Karleen couldn’t afford… At least, it used to be.

Karleen glared at the old map in her hand before looking at her surroundings. The corridor was made almost entirely out of stone and little else. A stark contrast to everything above ground.

For some reason, Karleen imagined that the basement of a castle would look a lot prettier. She got the idea stuck in her head because everything else the aristocrats had was overly fancy. Surely their dungeons were gold-plated, diamond-encrusted labyrinths that sparkled even in the absence of sunlight. But no. Not only were the halls dark and dingy like the underground cells she grew up in, but they were somehow colder in every way imaginable. The fact that Karleen had a hard time telling the difference between the storage, servant’s quarters, and the dungeon area spoke volumes as to how the crown thought of its servants. This thought would only be strengthened as Karleen explored the corridors.

The halls were eerily quiet. Many of the servants were still working upstairs, either cleaning up after the guests or serving them. It made snooping around the basement much easier for the giant woman, but it also made her uncomfortable. The only thing that kept her from focusing too much on her discomfort was to concentrate on the search, which worked for a while. As she continued her exploration, however, she began to notice a faint sound bouncing off the surrounding stones. The soft cracking came at a steady rhythm, faltering every now and then. The sound became louder and louder as Karleen walked about, until it was loud enough for her to recognize what it was.

Memories of her childhood rushed towards her, slamming her mind violently against her skull like waves ramming into the rocky shore. She would’ve drowned in it, but she learned how to float above it when it tried to drag her down. As familiar as the basement was to her childhood home, this place was not it. Karleen was no longer that child. She is stronger, tougher. It’ll all be fine.

The giantess gathered herself and continued forward, but quickly backed away when she was about to turn a corner. There was a servant, a middle-aged woman, standing with her arms folded and a sour expression. She was glaring at the direction where the sounds were coming from. Karleen could tell it was a room, but from the angle she was peeking in from, she couldn’t tell what kind of room it was.

After one particularly loud crack, the sound stopped. The servant visibly relaxed. Whatever happened in that room reached its end, or would’ve if whoever was in there kept their mouth shut. Voices coming from the room were too quiet for Karleen to catch, but whatever was said resulted in a sudden whack, which startled both the servant and Karleen.

“That’s enough!” The servant shouted before storming into the room.
The voice that spoke up tried to sound calm, but the strain in their voice made it obvious that they were anything but that. “You really need to train the servants better.”
“She served her punishment. Anything more than that and I’ll have to—…”
“What?” This time the voice that cut in made no attempt to hide its owner's contempt, “Do what? Report to the king? The queen? And what do you think they’re going to do to me?” The silence that followed was the answer. “Exactly. Not a goddamn thing. That’s what… Ooor what? Are you going to sleep with His Majesty to make him do what you want again? Like how you rode him all the way to head housekeeper?”
The scoff came from someone else, “You’re one to talk.”
“… Say that again.”
“Gladly, I said you’re a miserable sack of sh*t who gets off on tormenting people who can’t fight back and sucking Edin’s—”
“Riona!”
The other person was cackling when the woman named Riona restated her previous comment, “Ooooh, I’m going to savor the day you finally break.”
“You had 12 f**king years to try and I’m still here. What’s wrong? Losing your touch?”
“Hmm…” There was a pause. Karleen imagined the person taking their time looking Riona over. “I don’t know about that. You put up a brave front, but the cracks are showing… it won't be long…”
“Stop it, the both of you!” The servant shouted, “Riona, you’re dismissed. Go patch yourself up.” When Riona didn’t answer fast enough the woman sternly commanded, “Now.” The servant’s attention turned to the other person in the room, “As for you, even the King has his limits. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hire—…” The heavy wooden door closed, muffling the argument that ensued inside.

The dark haired woman who limped her way out of the room had the same look about her as the children who just survived a deathmatch in the arena. That moment when the adrenaline’s effects ran its course and everything that it had been numbed came crashing down. The fear, the pain. Everything. The woman tried to take a step, winced, and stumbled forward. She caught herself from slamming into the wall with her hands, but she didn’t move from that position. Karleen could hear the woman’s breathing turn ragged.

Back when Karleen was not “Karleen,” whenever unpleasant thoughts became powerful enough to paralyze her, she learned to free herself from their binding hex by filling her mind with her favorite things. Like the taste of sweets, the feeling of a full stomach, the warmth of the sun on her skin, pretty dresses, and fluffy stuffed animals. At the time, they were just figments of her imagination, stuff so distant that she never knew them in person, but close enough to know that they were real outside the steel bars. Karleen’s desire to experience what their masters prevented them from doing drove her to fight no matter how hopeless the situation became. She was going to live her life to the fullest and die happy; the chance she robbed others of would not be wasted.

But whatever strings that propped the maid up were none of those things. Not a single joyous, uplifting thought. What sort of cheerful thought made a person sweat bullets and claw at the stone walls like they were trying to dig their way out of their prison? The maid was trying to keep it quiet, but the echo chamber-like quality of the corridor made it impossible to hide the shortness of her breathing. The woman stood there, writhing with her inner demons, until the worst of the emotional waves subsided enough for her to catch her breath and stop trembling. She pressed her flushed forehead to the cool stone.

The maid took a few steps closer to the wall until her shoes touched it. Either she was trying to fuse into the wall or attempting to siphon the durability of the stones. Even if she succeeded in doing either, it was entirely pointless, because all rocks, great mountains included, eventually succumb to weathering and erosion. With time, it starts to break down, and bits and pieces of it are carried far, far away. Just like this maid. Riona might’ve avoided completely breaking apart in the past 12 years, but those years were taking their toll. The cracks were there and maybe there were chipped off fragments that she wasn't even aware she’d lost. It was, as the other person in the room said, only a matter of time until the maid shattered into pieces.

In an ideal world, the strong would’ve protected the weak before such things happened. If there were none, then the weak supported each other to become strong as one. But Sorian was far from the ideal world. Here, the strong butchered or leached off of the weak, and the weak trampled over each other if necessary. The weak had to become stronger if they wanted to survive. If that maid fell down, no one would be there to help her back up. That’s how it worked underground, and Karleen expected no less from Sorian on the surface. It was the one law that applied to both sides of the capital.

For the time being, all Karleen could do was pray —to the apathetic divine forces that be— that the maid found something else to live for. Something that could make life a little more bearable, if not make her smile from the bottom of her heart. A reason to hold on just a little longer… just a little bit longer.

Mentions: @Inertia Auguste, @Potter Persephone, @ReusableSword Roman, @Helo Callum

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After meeting with Auguste and his mother, Wulfric intended to return to his study. Though he was tired, he knew he would not be able to fall asleep yet. Several thoughts clamored for his attention, but each pushed or pulled in a different direction. The exact nature of paperwork was precisely the thing that could restore his equilibrium. However, he wished to freshen up first since he felt slightly warm from the alcohol he'd drunk. A visit to the lavatory was a good start; he drank some cool water, then splashed it on his face. But he would feel even better after a short walk.

He descended the second floor and was on the way to one of the back entrances leading to the gardens when he heard the unmistakable sound of the castle's front doors. He stopped on the spot, eyes narrowing as he listened. No guests were expected at this time.

Wulfric whirled around, pace swift as he hurried to investigate. The sight that met him in the foyer was as unlikely as the unusual intrusion merited. Count Calbert was accompanied by Doctor Williamson and two guards. As he took in the company, their expressions, postures, and general mood of the situation, Wulfric felt a grim determination settle over him. There could be nothing remotely good about any of this.

He approached the unforeseen visitors, gaze flitting from one person to another, finally settling on the count. Dispensing with any greetings, he demanded, "What is going on?"

Calbert's gaze rose from his journal. “Your Highness. Sorry to disturb you in the late hours." He greeted curtly, then got to the point. He put a hand around John's shoulder, "This young man discovered my daughter Violet deceased tonight and alerted me and the enforcement here." He gave the prince a moment to digest the heavy information, his teeth gritting. The guards nearby nodded their affirmation of this statement.

Astonishment overtook the prince, his mouth opening and eyebrows rising. Then, just as soon, his expression smoothed out into near-impassivity. The only indication of his upset was a new tension in his body and a subtly resolute frown gradually etching itself onto his face. "I see," he uttered, voice deepening as he turned to stare into the far distance. It was as if the thick stone walls and the massive wooden doors were not there to obstruct his view. His gaze was so intense that it would not be strange to think he was trying to manifest the unknown enemy in front of him by sheer willpower. Wulfric might have claimed Calbert was an opponent to his mother, but while that was not untrue, he was, after all, one of the Crown's subjects. Therefore, whoever murdered Violet, whoever had intended to harm the count in such a way…they were in opposition to the whole royal family and to the law.

"My sincerest condolences, Count Damien," he offered, catching this gaze. When the other man continued his tale, the prince listened intently.

"He also spotted a person of interest leaving the scene: a blonde woman in all black that I had run into earlier tonight after the ball. She had been on eavesdropping a private conversation, so I approached her. Not only had she been eavesdropping on me, but the girl had also been stealing food tonight. That is not indeed the worst part. This same woman enjoys the company of a man named Kazumin Nagasa, who my daughter Crystal claims to have been stalking her." He opened the journal up to present his drawing, aggressively pointing at the sketch of Persephone, despite his calm tone, "Due to our close proximity, I was able to recall her facial features here. I'd like to propose wanted posters for this villain. Hazel eyes, creamy blonde hair, and her skin was quite fair, I believe…"

Wulfric recognized that woman. "I've seen her at the ball," he confirmed. Auguste, who'd danced with her, may know more; that was just one reason to call him in.

The doctor preferred to let the count have his words in. His wrapped hands creeped John a little, but he kept his head straight, nodding when appropriate. John was a little perplexed hearing the two names, considering he knew both. Kazumin he met early in the ball, quite friendly but perhaps a little awkward to the scene. But, on the other hand, he just met Crystal at the library, which is close to the crime scene. So she was the count's daughter? John would have said something about that, but he preferred to keep silent as it progressed just as he expected.

Because he had been observing him so closely, Wulfric had noted a certain doggedness about Calbert. It was to be expected, of course, however…It reminded him of how he'd been when Anastasia had been kidnapped. He knew his wrathful desire back then to destroy whomever he believed responsible hadn't been as constructive to resolving the crime as he might have had liked. Granted, the count appeared remarkably calm. Yet, the tenuous connection between pieces of information and supposition he attempted to string together into a cohesive whole revealed his fixation. From thief to spy to murderer? Plausible, but not as much of a certainty as the count appeared to believe. The mention of Kazumin - the storyteller he recognized based on the context - was also almost entirely irrelevant. Disapprove of him as Wulfric might, the claim that he was a stalker was dubious and not enough to tie him to this matter.

Nonetheless, there was a witness, and that was something factual. Thus, Wulfric nodded shortly. "A reasonable idea we can implement easily enough," he agreed, referring to the wanted posters suggestion. "However, I will first need more information." Saying so, he redirected his attention to John, who had been silent thus far.

"Doctor, what exactly did you see and when?" he prompted.

Unlike the testimony the count gave, which is pretty much a confirmation bias on his end, John's would be less so. He took a second to rearrange the details, pretty much exactly what he told Calbert earlier, in a concise manner. "It was 22:05 when I saw that woman…uh no person, running from the alleyway towards the Tough Tavern's direction, with blood-soaked footprints. It was dark, so I didn't see much of them aside from loose blonde hair strands, black clothing, and hoodies, and they're pretty slim-looking."

"That's all I saw, your Highness." He then gestured towards the sketch shown to Wulfric. "When I mentioned that to Count Calbert, he connected the dots to her. Personally, I couldn't see her face, so I don't know for sure if that is her, but the count has more evidence?" He turned to look at Calbert to indirectly poke him about what he found at the scene.

Calbert lifted up the piece of bloody bread as if on cue. "This is the same bread that was offered at the ball, the very bread I caught her stealing earlier. Admittedly, I had not been the kindest to the girl as I was appalled by her criminal behavior, so perhaps she was vengeful. All of the information together calls for her capture and interrogation at the least…" He cleared his throat and stared at John, "Dr. Williamson forgot to also include that he had found my daughter with an ax between her eyes. Despite the overwhelming evidence, if not this blonde woman, there is at least someone out there who is completely deranged running amuck."

Wulfric wouldn't call the evidence overwhelming, but he also wanted the indicated woman brought in. "We'll treat her as a runaway witness for now and pursue her as a potential lead," he decided. He then turned to the two guards. "Tell me your names and give me a brief report."

"My name is Edward Davidson." The first introduced himself with a bow.

“Clarence Buford.” The latter then decided to explain all after his declaration, "We were alerted by Dr. John Williamson there was a body in the alleyway between two buildings by the Sorian Library. Upon arrival, Lady Damien was found sprawled out on the ground, blood pooling beneath her head. An ax was lodged deep within her head. Death was most likely instant… Count Calbert Damien arrived and was obviously distraught. Photos were taken of the body, and then we have had her covered up and thus relocated." He then gestured to Calbert, "Count Damien has requested for us to keep Lady Damien's death private. "

Count Calbert nodded, though curious as to why Clarence had to bring that up now, "This is true… I wished to be the one to notify you or your father as I hoped to keep this from Crystal's ears for now. Her health is wavering, and I do not think she can handle the stress of such a story. If possible, I would like this to be kept out of any newspapers and such until my daughter is in a state to receive the news."

Wulfric glanced at the count. “That is fine,” he stated. To the guards, he said, "You two will caution everyone in the know to keep the details to themselves until further notice. I will send you some backup, but the additional guards needn't know the victim's identity either." He took a moment to organize the orders he wished to give. "Buford, you will return to the crime scene and have those responsible for compiling the evidence bring it over. I will also need someone to give a detailed report on your patrols tonight. Most importantly, we will be increasing security and conducting a thorough area search. I'll consider you or any direct superior currently on the scene responsible for the south and south-eastern districts."

"Davidson, you, on the other hand, will be handling the southwestern parts. Two or three men should head to the Tough Tavern and investigate it. I don't expect that woman to linger there; however…there may be clues. Advise the owner and any guests that we are seeking a witness to the murder. Inspect the locale thoroughly. Simultaneously, you will spread the search towards the slums. If nothing or no one suspicious is discovered in the next few hours, we'll have to extend it even further outwards…"

"If at any point you do happen upon any activity or person of note, send someone to report it immediately." The prince calmly observed one guard and then the other. “All clear?”

Edward nodded, informing briefly before his departure. "Yes indeed, Prince Wulfric. We had recently left two guards at the Tough Tavern to inspect before we made our way here. However, they went straight upstairs, so I will also find out if they found anything once I am there."

Upon receiving the additional information, Wulfric nodded. “Good, now go!” Cloak swishing, he swept out his arm imperiously, sending the two of them off.

When only the trio of the count, the doctor, and the prince remained, Wulfric addressed the other two. “Now, gentlemen…if you'd please follow me."

After additional patrols had been sent, Wulfric relocated the trio into the meeting room on the second floor which was absurdly extravagant. Every step on the polished marble floors echoed in the silence. The table was intricately painted, and the chairs were adorned with authentic gold. A maid moved into the room with a tea set, quietly setting the table for Wulfric and his guests. Another servant brought a map of Sorian, some paper, and writing implements.

Calbert had taken his seat, quite curious about what else they would be conversing about. After giving the information he had, he had supposed all would be done. He was pretty gracious to the prince for the expansive aid he was providing, so it did not pester him all too much to stay longer. He folded his arms thoughtfully, deciding to let the prince lead the conversation while digging through his brain for more information.

Wulfric remained standing, map spread on the table before him. "Before I receive the requested evidence, there are several details I want to confirm with you; the body's location, position, and how you would surmise the murder was committed. An ax to the front of the head is what I've gathered so far?" he inquired, looking up from the map to the two men.

"There are buildings west from my estate, and if one is to cut between them, they will find a shortcut to the library. Violet was found at the eastern end of this alleyway, close to her home. She was lying on her back. I believe she was thus facing west, facing the library. " Calbert trailed a trembling finger across the map to visually express his words as he spoke. Wulfric felt a hidden glee at the sign of the count's distress and weakness but showed it in no way whatsoever, simply marking the indicated location with a small x. He also made brief notes of the information obtained.

"...We believed she had fallen backward from the force of the ax…It was perfectly lodged in her forehead at a 90-degree angle and… It was upside down. The handle was toward the sky." He halted. That did not make sense. If someone had run down that alley toward her with an ax in hand, why hadn't she flinched or tilted her head… Had she frozen like a fawn? "...or perhaps she fell backward, and someone swung the ax down on her while she was on the ground. The ax was deep after all …" He clenched his jaw. “We had photographs taken. They will have to be examined with vigor tomorrow."

“An unusual murder method…I suppose it couldn't have been thrown," Wulfric pondered, shaking his head in dismissal of his idea. The ax would have had to be thrown underhand, from above, land perfectly in the center of her head, and fell Violet in one swoop. An unlikely option.

John's instinct kicked in when Calbert mentioned that ax in her skull. Indeed that ax was weird in that it appeared to have been swung upward, or like Calbert said, the girl fell backward, and someone swung from behind her; both of them were weird ways of killing someone. But there was a critical detail that the count did not mention, and John realized just now, to which he raised his hand to request a hearing.

"When you mentioned that ax, count Calbert…" , He spoke up a little quietly but grew louder over time. "It was buried deep into her, like almost halfway through the blade. I have seen the effects of sword blows on human bones. It would take a lot of force to sink half an ax's blade into someone's skull like that." He said. "So the perpetrator must have had a lot of upper body strength to carry that out."

Even in the case where the killer swung the ax overhead, it would still take strength to carry through with force. "You can let your forensic team on that detail, if that's reasonable, of course." There is also one more hypothesis the doctor had in mind, but that felt a little too crazy to be accurate, so he kept his silence on that.

"It is, in fact, a noteworthy detail, doctor," the prince assured. "So you would say…that our slim suspect, even if she'd swung the ax with the whole force of her body, from above down to the felled victim…could not have made such a wound?" he sought to confirm. But if that had occurred, it was strange that there had been no mention of signs of struggle.

"That's something I would say is unlikely." John replied. There are still possible outliers where a slim-looking person could smash someone's skull. Not everyone skinny looking is weak.

"By the way," Wulfric turned to John, "could you say based on where you saw the blood whether she'd been standing or not when she was struck? And…do we have an estimated time of death?"

"That…" John scratched his forehead quite a bit to reminisce if there was anything noteworthy about that moment. He felt a little bit of headache forming. "Blood was not dry yet, so it likely took place within the hour. As for how she died…" He took a breath, as it would get quite technical. "I don't remember for certain. I would need to see the scene again. But to be extra certain how she might have died, it would be good to have an autopsy report, to see other minute details like how much damage was done to the back of her skull or how and how many times she was hit. That would paint a better picture than just blood splashes."

Or at least that's how the Varians did their death investigation and how it should be.

Calbert was thoughtful as he listened, building upon the information in his mind and digging the horrific scene back into his vision. "There was blood splatter, minuscule drips mostly in front of her body, by her feet, indicating blood may have come down from her head before she fell… If she was lying down, the damage to the back of her head would be more severe. Her head might not have taken as much of the trauma if she had fallen. However, I did not notice extreme damage to the back of her head. I could say with almost certainly that she was standing based on what we know so far." Calbert mused, but none too happily.

Wulfric noted what they'd discussed thus far in concise bullet-point format, separating established facts from suppositions (some likelier than others). "So, the murder method is still unclear," he concluded. However, determining that was something the official investigators could do based on the data gathered so far. Changing tracks, he tilted his head at the count. "Based on what the doctor said, there's an hour of unaccounted time between nine and ten for what Violet was doing and where. However, I assume she returned home with you after the ball?"

Calbert met his eyes with a nonchalant expression, though his brow had slightly lifted. "She did return home with me, but once I busied myself, at some point, she snuck out to the library presumably. Ever the bibliophile she was. My staff knows to keep a close eye on her and Crystal, but she must have found an opening to leave…" Emotion rose in him, but he refused to let it show. "I know she was somewhat interested in a man from the Varian Kingdom as she chose to dance with him on her own accord. Roman Ravenwood, from what I have gathered. "

That answer did not at all clarify anything. Wulfric had hoped to narrow down the time frame in which Violet might have been killed, but apparently, Calbert had no idea when she'd left home. So he let the matter rest and considered the next one. Lord Ravenwood… "Do you believe they might have met - is he one of your suspects?" he raised a questioning eyebrow and let some doubt leak into his voice. It seemed unlikely.

"I know they spent much of their time together tonight, but not much else about him… I intend to list to the investigators everyone who could be possibly suspected aside the blonde woman who ran away from the scene…Dr. Williamson, what do you know of this Lord Ravenwood?"

The longer these two asked questions, the more flags were raised for John about the investigation itself. Being allowed in this room, doing the investigation with them, being asked these questions, at the same time not being anywhere close to being a proper professional. Why are they doing all this speculation barely hours after it happened? When can he go home already?

As for Lord Ravenwood, John did know the man. He was a son of the Ravenwood household, well-known in Kolonivka for his metals and the fact that he couldn't go anywhere without them. He had conversed with him here and there, but not too much. A nice guy, but given both their different specialties, they didn't have much in common to speak of. But now that he's in the crosshair of these two, the doctor stopped himself from spilling too much information. Especially in front of this guy Calbert.

"Lord Ravenwood? He's a blacksmith living in North Varian. Son of a noble, obviously, Lord Erick Ravenwood. His specialty is armorsmithing and weaponsmithing, quite well-known in fact." John replied, saying pretty much either public information or readily accessible information if they did their minimum research. "I don't speak much with him personally, though; we didn't have many opportunities to cross paths."

“Blacksmith.” Calbert repeated.

The door suddenly flew open as King Edin stormed in, his entourage of bodyguards following. "What's all this! " He demanded, his gaze first falling on Count Damien, "Calbert! What the hell are you doing here?" He did not seat himself and leaned his hands on the table, intense gaze moving to each of them. "Who the hell is that?" He pointed at John but was clearly asking Calbert and Wulfric. The doctor flinched a little in response to the sudden entry. He had never seen someone act so caricature-like, both in private and public. Oh, didn't he mention this was the guy who exiled him?

Calbert glanced at the bearded king, "Your Majesty. I discussed a severe dilemma with your son and Dr. Williamson of the Varian Kingdom. Would you like to be briefed? "

"I already know! That blasted Callum stole a carriage with Anastasia, enticed all the Sultan's offspring and who knows who else. Then he took them who knows where probably some orgy... How could you let this happen, Wulfric?" King Edin finally sat down, sighing, "We somehow came up out of that fiasco earlier unscathed, and now we're still doomed to war."

On the other hand, Wulfric remained standing and was glad he had not been sitting; he might have startled otherwise. His father's abrupt entrance was surprising, and so was learning that his younger siblings' idea of subtlety was stealing a whole damned carriage. The Alidasht party had been roped into this… 'adventure.' Thus, it was simple enough to pretend as if he had no idea of the situation. “Callum did what?” he interjected rhetorically, injecting the proper amount of scandalization into his words.

Calbert gave Wulfric a smirk subtly, then glanced back at King Edin, " Not quite the same subject we were discussing. Indeed, with all this high security here, this is inexplicable.. …Has the Sultan found out yet?"

" No, but he will… " King Edin groaned. Though he wouldn't mind a war as a means to conquer the Alidasht and perhaps even the Varian to expand his territory, they were not yet ready for one. Their army was undoubtedly the greatest, but he had hoped to increase his numbers and increase his possibility of winning.

Wulfric had caught the count's smirk and returned it with an unimpressed side-glance. Then, he calmly regarded the king. "He does not have to," he stated. "First, they need to be retrieved as safely and covertly as possible," he suggested.

"Then, depending on how this unfolds…we provide them with proper care, caution against unescorted late-night wanderings into less reputable parts of the city for those unfamiliar with it…" the latter would basically subtly blame the guests for being too eager to explore Sorian, but it was better than implicating Callum and Anastasia. It was inevitable that the Caesonian royal family would come across as negligent. Still, they could mitigate that, and it was better than the Sultan thinking there'd been an intentional plot to sabotage them.

"...promise increased security, find whoever was responsible for the oversight tonight and punish them…" likely some poor bastard Anastasia had charmed, Wulfric would guess. "...offer our guests some native servants to get them acquainted with the city, and bring down whichever establishment Callum led them to, if we must." It was quite a list, and Wulfric intended to recruit Auguste for help - to be honest, he was dearly missing his presence just then. "I can act on your behalf in this matter if you so wish, Your Majesty," he concluded.

King Edin rubbed his beard as he listened to Wulfric ramble. He hated listening to others ramble on, but he was glad it was his heir to the throne to do so. A thoughtful and wise King would be beloved, and Wulfric was already well-liked thanks to all the pressure he had been putting on him all his life. He smiled with some pride for his son. "Yes, indeed, this all sounds well. I am entrusting this to you then, Wulfric. However, what is to stop the Sultan from finding out? We know not what kind of state his children shall return in…." He grimaced, "If at all."

Incompetent.

’What in the fuck did I just hear?’ This was getting a bit out of hand. The story itself and the fact that they just nonchalantly told everything to his face: literally royal thievery, Alidasht's Shehzadis going missing, and even potential civil war. Mind you, he was here to report a murder.

"We will tailor our response to him based on the particulars," Wulfric responded. There was not much else to be said until they knew more, and situations like this always required a degree of flexibility.

King Edin did not seem comforted. He stood back up, "I suppose finding them is the first order. I shall go have that put in order… But if this was not the subject at hand here, what were you discussing?"

"We have a murderer on the loose. Dr. Williamson found the body." Calbert replied this time.

“Oh. The peasants at it again, hmm? Rats." King Edin scoffed but did not seem all too worried about it as he began to take his leave. He paused in the doorway, narrowing his eyes briefly, "Oh, and Wulfric, we will be discussing your behavior at the ball at some point."

"Of course, father," was all Wulfric had to say to that.

Calbert slowly rose from his seat, "Well. If that's all… Thank you, Prince Wulfric. I will take my leave. Hopefully, that elusive blonde woman will be caught soon and questioned." He was hopeful he could finally leave; he had not foreseen a formal meeting over the matter. "After all, I believe I saw Prince Auguste dancing with her, so he may recognize her. Perhaps he'll know something. I will be conversing with Kazumin Nagasa tomorrow as well."

Calbert's leave allowed John a valid excuse to do the same. "If you don't mind the same for me, Your Highness." He said, bowing with his hand on his chest. "It's been a long day, and I need to report where I have been to our monarchs. I will have discretion about what happened." Whether or not he'd stick to his words was still up in the air, however.

Wulfric inclined his head to Calbert and John. There was no reason to hold them up any longer; he'd gained most of what he'd intended from them, and he had other business to attend to. When the doctor said he'd report to the Varian royals, Wulfric leveled a cool stare at him. Though he promised discretion in the same breath, he had little doubt King and Queen Camille would be informed of this. It was regrettable that his father hadn't sent Williamson out of the room before revealing their latest scandal. "I would appreciate that, doctor," Wulfric told him, gaze intent. Then, he let the duo depart, offering a brief, "Goodnight, gentlemen."

It was indeed a futile, empty farewell…the night promised to be long and arduous, at least for the prince.

Time:Evening
Location: Marek's Afterparty
Interactions: @Infinite Cosmos Munir @Helo Callum/Leo(?)
Attire:An Outfit that would make her mother faint

---

The last hour had consisted of constant physical activity and one might expect such a situation, but this was different. She had been dancing to the music when suddenly she slowed her movements, and her smile faded. “I-...” Her lips parted as a barely audible noise came out. Her expression crumbled as she wrapped her arms around herself. Her heart had never raced this fast and it was a terrifying feeling. The lights around her blurred with every motion as she felt panic set in. Music and chatter alike became a conglomerate of noise assaulting her ears. It was difficult to catch her breath, speak, and even think. This wasn’t the adrenaline that made her forget.

She felt like she was going to die and it frightened her for once.

There was this extreme feeling of misery on top of it all. Although, that wasn’t necessarily a feeling unfamiliar to her. She felt so desperately disconsolate that she wanted to say something about it. Subsequently, she turned her gaze to her brother, Munir, and Leo. But she saw different faces than who she expected. Their voices reverbed in her mind as if they were being said out loud for the first time.

Did you think I really loved you? Do you really think anyone would? That anyone would want you for anything other than to take you to bed?

You are dead to me, Anastasia.

I have given you everything you have ever wanted. What’s wrong with you?

In the blink of an eye, she saw their faces again as they should be. It was simply Callum, Munir and Leo before her. All three of them had been having so much fun and she had just been about to tell them about how awful she was feeling, probably ruining their night in doing so.

It doesn’t matter whose face I see… I’m meaningless to them. No point.
But it’s nothing bad they’re doing. It’s me that’s wrong.

She had been staring ahead at them without a sound for the last moment, perhaps perplexing them. Tears had been streaming down her cheeks the entire time. ” I’m…I’m… going to go sit down.” Somehow, she had managed that out over the feeling of heart pounding. The moment she turned, her legs threatened to unbuckle. The energy was slipping away from her with every single second that passed. However, Anastasia persisted and pushed forward to a stool, which she practically collapsed into. This was enough to alarm those nearby her enough to ask her if she was alright. She laid her head down as someone shook her shoulder. Wrapping her arms around her head, Anastasia tried to block everything out, hoping her heart rate would slow.

---

It took everything in her power to hold back as she stared up at the masked man as he took hold of her wrist. She only grinned up at him, her own mask doing very little to conceal the playful smirk under it. When she was finally released and practically shoved aside by him Zarai looked at the back of his head with the ugliest and most rude glare that even her mother could not muster up. She just scoffed, rolled her eyes, and brushed away the spot he had dared to touch her on.

"Pinche pendejo, hijo de las mil putas." She followed soon after, fingers working on her blouse as she rolled up the sleeves. Just looking at him made her blood boil and her heart race with anticipation. The mare thought of landing one single punch only fueled the rage bubbling deep in her stomach. It was something that she had never felt before, this unfiltered and pure hatred she felt towards the man was something new and dare say, exciting.

“Go back to the kitchen already! You don’t belong here!”

Zarai glared at the man who had shouted that, pointing at him as she had to Kazu. "You're next." A wide smile spread over her face seeing the look of pure fear and regret on the scrawny man's face as he stopped jabbing the woman and turned to find a way out of the crowd only to find himself stuck in place by the surrounding audience.

"Luz." Was all she said to the man with the megaphone before ducking down under the third rope and swinging one leg over the second, Zarai entered the ring. Pale blue eyes stared directly into Kazu's golden ones as if trying to fight him with just a glare. The more she looked at him, the more the bubbling in her stomach grew; yet, all she wanted to do right now was laugh at him. Laugh at his pitiful attempts to intimidate and insult her as if she had not heard it before.

"Que bonito te ves, pensando que me vas a poder vencer." She rolled her shoulders, craning her head from side to side. "Tu madre te hubiera tragado y salvado la humillación de hoy." Someone from the back gasped and screamed "Buuuuurned!" Zarai ignored them and kept her eyes on the masked man. He was taller, almost a foot more than her, but she was lean and quick. Wulfric and Auguste had taught her that being nimble against such a large target would be enough of an advantage to win.

Although, the bubbling in her stomach was starting to spread over her body now. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and her hands were starting to visibly shake. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead the more she stared at the imbecile in front of her. All the wanted to do was pull off the stupid cowlick of his and shove a fist full of hair down his throat.

"Llámame puta una vez más y me aseguraré de que te arrepientas de haber nacido, maldito pendejo hijo de la chingada!" She had dug her fingers into her blouse, ripping the expensive silk in two as the fabric tore and buttons flew in the air. There, stood Zarai in all her five-foot and one-inch glory, her freckled arms with well-defined muscles glistening under the magical lights. She heard a few whistles and more cheering, especially from the women.

“Basta de jugar. Tráelo...puta!”

Zarai didn't wait for a second longer before charging the man, screaming as she did so, and jumping high up in the air with her knee folded right in front of her. Aiming right for his head.

Chavez simply scoffed at the insults the masked woman returned in spanish which brought out another round of jeers and cheers. A good mix of confusion in the crowd’s faces and tone due to their inability to understand the full scope of the two’s heated argument.

Things only became more heated after Zarai followed Chavez in ripping off her blouse which anyone looking could tell would make fighting awkward and difficult. The cowlicked blonde let out a mocking laugh while sporting an amused grin.” ¿Esta perra desafía a Chávez y ahora lo imita? Chávez hará que te arrepientas de haber entrado en este ring, Seno- “ Intending to get one last round of insults; ignoring the crowd who had been worked up into a fervor upon seeing the half naked duo squaring off.

Said attempt was cut short from Zarai suddenly charging without warning then jumping up into the air. Unfortunately she was not exactly subtle with doing so as Chavez easily saw it coming and chose to slide back a step, initially making it seem as if he was simply dodging but then kicked off his heel to propel himself forward towards Zarai who was now mid-way from landing on the mat where he had been moments ago.

His left arm shot out wide as he went where he quickly followed up by wrapping it around her waist grabbing her. Next thing the audience witnessed was Chavez diving at the mat slamming her down with him lying and hovering over her leaving her having to look up at his smug smirking face.”¡No eres más que una niña que corre como un toro mudo, señorita!!” He started in mocking fashion while laughing in her face, taking some twisted thrill in seeing the woman that disgraced him humiliated in such a manner.

“ Chavez will be merciful and give you one chance, nino. Surrender and apologize.”

Her breath escaped her lungs as her back met the ring's floor, leaving Zarai gasping for air. Her vision went black for those few seconds as the flashes from the neon lights made it hard to see. For a split second she didn't see a mask over her, but a pair of familiar blue eyes. It wasn't long for her to force air back into her lungs and return to reality to see who was really over her. "Mi madre pega mas fuerte que tu." She spat in his eyes, using the sudden blindness of one eye to kick her knee up and between the man's legs to his crotch. However, Kazu was quick to recover from her spit attack but wasn't quick enough to pull back from her knee. Using his momentary stun to push him off and roll away from him to get to her feet, Zarai looked down at the man with a grin.

"Crees que eres el mas chingon aqui, verdad?" She laughed down at him before turning around and running to the ropes, using them as a boost as she propelled herself up in the air and directly came crashing down on him. It was painful for both, but Zarai's eyes were starting to see red now as those same eyes kept flashing behind the mask.

Without warning a wad of spit was fired into his eye though thankfully the mask caught most of it. This left the unexpected sting minor enough for him to react and pull his hips back and away from the knee aiming at his crotch. HIs body mostly did this on instinct gained from experience scrapping with drunk women back at the tavern that as you can imagine tended to be dirty fighters and Zarai was definitely one of them.

He saved his groin but doing so left him off balance making it easier for the woman to shove him off leaving him rolling onto his back. The somewhat dazed Chavez lifted his head gazing up at the blonde through slightly stinging eyes barely catching what she said and readied himself to return an insult of his own but she was already running off.

Shaking his head and rubbing the spit from his eye only to take notice of a figure in the air falling towards him.” Que?”

THUMP!

Her body landed on top of him with a loud crash that had his limbs flying up and a burst of blood spraying from his mouth. Had he not grit his teeth afterwards, the contents of his stomach might have followed.

“ ¡Quítame el culo gordo, perra!” He coughed up the words through gritted teeth, the wind momentarily knocked from his lungs. Christ! This puta was heavier than she looked.

Once his breath returned to him he shoved her off just as she had done to him prior then rolled over to push himself back up to his feet where he wiped the blood from his mouth.” ¿Tu mamá era una ballena?! Porque eres pesado como uno!” Chavez spat with an aggravated huff of his nose, his rage burned anew as he charged at Zarai who likely got up as well and threw a low upper arm punch with his left arm aiming it at her stomach.

"De averdad crees que me puedes insultar con eso?" Zarai laughed loudly as she stood, fists raised in front of her and legs spread out in a defensive stance. She tried to fight back the red flashes but his eyes... His eyes were blue now. So blue, so cold. Her hands were shaking now, more so than before, as he charged for her.

When Kazu threw the punch, she stepped to the side before throwing her own punch to his side and making an impact. She swung again, but this time the man hit first sending her head back for a second before she tried to swing again just to be blocked and met another first to the stomach. Zarai stumbled back to look at him, a wide smile spreading over her now red-stained lips. "Now you're hitting right."

The previous blow had left him more staggered than he thought, keeping him from maintaining proper footwork. This led to the woman easily side-stepping his strike and in turn received a wicked punch to the side of his face instead as blood spurt from his nose along with a faint crack.

A blow that might have stunned and thrown Chavez off if not for all the rage and endorphin pumping through his body preventing him from really feeling or at least noticing the pain. This enabled him to recover faster than Zarai expected; dodging the next set of punches thrown at him while returning blows of his own with one smacking her face and the last one this time landing on her stomach.

He took a step back, blood spilling from his nose as he gave a wide, bloody grin of his own.” Hmph! Chavez normally holds back against a woman, but a dirty bitch like you is no lady.” His voice came out sounding a bit nasally with a faint whistle as the blow was not quite enough to break his nose but was enough to have it dislocated yet, this was hardly a first for this experienced scrapper.

“Una gracia salvadora para ti, al menos puedes hacer una carrera pateando a los chicos en la polla después de que esto termine porque Chávez está a punto de arruinar tu bonita cara!” The masked blonde spat out sending yet another spray of blood flying and this time aimed purposefully at her face to blind her then charged with his right arm held out wide like he did when grabbing her only this time aiming to ram it against her face with as much force as he could put into it.

Zarai managed to put up her hands in time to stop the mixture of spit and blood from hitting her eyes, but the arm charging her way was too fast for her to dodge. His arm hit her on the chin and lips, the force sending her back onto her with a loud "humf!". Litle bright lights danced around her already red tainted vision as she slowly recovered from the arm to the face. She could feel her lips already swelling from the previous hits and the iron taste dancing in her tongue.

HIs attempt at blinding failed, but it didn’t matter for the actual attack hit anyway as he could feel the harsh impact of his arm smacking into her face. Chavez quickly spun around on his heels to find the detestable woman sprawled on the ground; hopping forward to tower over her where he then burst into a fit of mocking laughter.” ¡Ahora todos pueden ver a dónde pertenece legítimamente una puta como tú! ¡Deberías estar agradecido con Chávez por ayudar a hacer que esos labios sean más dignos de una puta!” Talking down and belittling the woman who now looked like the proper rubia tonta she was.

"Maldito..." She pushed herself into a crouching position before kicking her leg out in a swift motion to the back of the man's ankles sending them forward causing him to back. Zarai took the opportunity of her surprise attack to quickly straddle him, securing herself with her knees squeezing his sides tightly. "Pinche maldito ingrato, hijo de la gran puta." She let out a laugh while her hands wrapped around the man's neck.

Chavez had gotten so wrapped up in his mocking and gloating that he completely failed to notice what she had been planning to do. Being so conceited and savoring her humiliation led the cocky masked falling onto his back while the sudden sweep struck at an angle to sprain his ankle bringing a sharp cry of pain out of him.

The burning pain coming from his swelling ankle simply another painful sensation Chavez would soon be feeling once the adrenaline and rage dwindled. Yet, for now everything felt dull, save for the insistent squeezing pain coming from her legs digging into his hips forcing him to grit his teeth to fight back the wincing yelp threatening to escape his bloodied lips.

It wasn’t until he felt Zarai’s hands wrap around his neck and those strong fingers encasing around his windpipe that he let out a heavy, shaky gasp. Chavez peered up at the woman trying to choke him through red eyes; now both metaphorically from the cocktail and physically with blood splattered into them. His first instinct was to howl and sling a long string of insults at the bitch that dared to think she could choke him.

Instead, the widest blood stained toothy grin formed on his brutally battered face. An expression that sent chills through those closest capable of witnessing it.”” Hah! You call this choking?! Come on! Put some actual effort into it...if you intend to choke Chavez then you best damn well mean it!” He spat out through chokes goading her on wanting to see if she had the cojones to really go through with it. Then he broke out in laughter once more as his hands lifted to grab hold of her wrists though made no attempt to pull off instead squeezed down as if to help her with choking him. His eyes were shining wildly in a crazy and maddening glow entirely visible beneath the mask as he watched; curious and eager to see how far she was willing to take this even as his face began changing colors.

Zarai wasn't paying attention to anything the man under her was saying anymore. She didn't care. His insults kept on falling on deaf ears as her nails began to dig into his neck and her knees continued to squeeze. There wasn't anything in the world she wanted more than to shut him up, and choking the man was not working. It did not surprise her when he began to push her hands further into his neck despite the obvious change of color on his face. He was crazy, that was for certain, but the more noises he made and the more he continued to talk was starting to hurt her head.

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut! Up!"

Oh how satisfying it was to see Zarai so agitated and disgruntled when she was the one currently choking a person. That mad toothy grin only widened, refusing to give her what she wanted.” ”Wh-what’s the matter…nino? Don’t have the cojones to finish the job?” His words came out in jagged heaving and gasps, talking even as his lungs burned and ached for fresh oxygen but still his hands continued aiding her in squeezing against his throat.

She wanted his to stop. His voice had become grating, like nails on a chalkboard. Poking and prodding her mind with needles until she couldn't take in any more. She pulled back her hands, slapping his away in the process. "Shut up." She grabbed his chin hard, fingers digging harshly into his cheeks and jaw before covering his red-stained lips with her own. She could taste iron, but she wasn't sure if it was because of him or her.

“ Chavez *wheeze* knew you lacked spine. You squeeze like a widdle *wheeze* bebe. Time to gi-” Thinking this had gone on long enough and was prepared to pry her hands off which he was confident he could do at any time. And then it happened.

An experienced scrapper like him had experienced most things allowing him to guess just about anything his opponent could do. But Zarai proved him wrong by doing the one thing he or the crowd for that matter could never see coming.

People around the ring who had once been cheering for the near death of the man now stood there around them staring in confusion before they erupted in cheers once more. Others were left standing there in confusion watching two opponents who had been previously beating each other into pulps kiss in the middle of the ring. To Zarai, their cheers or disproving "boos" did not matter one bit as she had finally gotten what she wanted.

Silence.

In that brief respite of silence time seemed to have frozen for Chavez. His body stiff like a stoned statue and eyes wide in pure disbelief; unable to do anything but lie there while in that moment felt nothing as if he was floating in an empty void.

The strangely warm sensation of lips mashed against his the first to hit him followed by the taste of iron. Of all places for Chavez (Kazu) to receive his first proper kiss and it was during the middle of a gruesome battle at that. Had he been in his right mind he would be at a complete and absolute loss of what to do. Yet, when his mind returned, so too did the boiling rage and excitement wrought from this brutish fight and soon felt the way she was kissing him.

A kiss not out of passion, desire or love. No, this was one borne out of hate signaling that their match was not over, merely shifted to a different style. And if she thinks Chavez was one to back down from a challenge then she was about to learn to regret underestimating Chavez's own hate and determination to win.

The crowd got to bear witness as the masked blonde moved his left hand to grab hold of the back of Zarai’s head pressing down deepening their kiss. To those watching it may have seemed like the pair were in the throes of a passionate make-out, but unbeknownst to them it was simply another form of their hate duking it out.

Her silence was soon interrupted by the man below her returning the kiss. Her lips stung as they rubbed against her teeth, but she didn't let the pain stop her from defeating him. She pushed her tongue past his lips. Everything began to spin around them, and the audience's voices began to echo in her mind. It felt like the whole world was coming down on her suddenly. Every part of her body now weighed a ton, her mind no different. Confused and angry, Zarai bit the man's tongue before breaking their kiss. "Hijo de la chingada—" She couldn't finish her sentence when she felt it in her throat. Zarai fought back the urge as she forced herself off the man and to the edge of the ring.

Vomit Warning [+]

Unfortunately, her body began to betray her as her arms failed to carry her further before emptying her stomach onto the ring. "Fuck." Was all she said before collapsing next to the puddle of her own vomit.

It would become quickly apparent that Chavez (Kazu) lacked any experience with kissing as he was more or less just mashing his lips against hers in a challenging manner. A stubborn refusal to give up or accept defeat spurned him on even when her tongue invaded his mouth thinking it another challenge to clash against his own. Soon having his tongue bitten causing him to release his grip while wincing with tears welling up in his eyes.

Once she had gotten off, Chavez pushed himself up into a sitting position to see Zarai staggering her way to the edge where she unleashed the contents on her stomach as any too slow to dodge found themselves the unlucky recipients of the mess. With a victorious laugh, the masked blonde jumped back onto his feet just as his most hated opponent collapsed to the floor where she was left lying in a puddle of her own sick. Taking a moment to peer down at the defeated woman wanting to relish his victory and though this woman had insulted and angered him in ways he never thought possible found himself respecting her tenacity. A blazing fire that no other women has yet displayed. Lifting his hands to his nose and with a quick jerk affixed his nose back in place with an audible crack sure to make any who heard it cringe.

“ Ah-hah! In the end Chavez is the victor! Gaze upon this stage and lay witness to what happens to those who dare dishonor Chavez!” Exclaiming boisterously with that wide scarlet grin while motioning towards Zarai left in such a pitiful state.” Si! All who dare to challenge Chavez knows where they shall end up, but though she has lost, this rubio has proven herself a most zorro luchador!” Throwing his arms up signaling to the audience to applaud for her.

A most brutal and gruesome battle that had come to an end and while rage still burned wickedly. Chavez was one to offer respect to strong opponents and Zarai proved his most ferocious. Still feeling rage towards her, but beneath it lie an inexplicable attraction.

Interactions:@princess Anastasia @Helo Callum

The night had carried on. Dancing, flirting, touching, whispering. All the things Munir enjoy doing on a regular basis. Oh and of course imbibing in the myriad of cocktails available to them. Sure, Munir was used to drinking but it was never with this sort of abandon. Many glasses of wine, champagne, and more wine were consumed. However, there was just one slightly green drink. Just one Noble's Venom.

At first, Munir felt overwhelmingly energized. Like he wanted and could run from where he was all the way back to Alidasht just to catch the sunrise. The sweetness of the drink seemed to fill him with vigor. With Callum and Anastasia, he ran, danced, joked around. It seemed like the party would never end.

But of course it does. And End it did.

First, Munir felt extremely fatigued. More than he has ever felt. He chalked it up to the day finally catching up with him. He was at the ball, then only had the briefest respite before he was roused and made his way to this party. All the drinking, and moving about, surely did not help. But this was a fatigue unlike any other. He looked around the party, and everything seemed to spin. Callum was nowhere to be found, neither was Anastasia for the moment. Just where was he, even? He breathed in deep and exhaled, trying his best to maintain his composure. He tried to seek out a glass of water in the hopes of washing away the nauseating taste in his mouth, but alas no luck. He walked on what he thought were steady steps but in reality was nothing more than quaking knees. His footsteps were so unsteady at this point and simply crashed against a wall and slumped down into a stool.

Then the nightmares really began.

Munir could vaguely make out the shape of another person next to him but his mind was too clouded at this point to care. All he heard, and saw, were the pointed fingers and sharp tongues of the Alidashtian people.

"Look at him? Such a lecherous little beast. Ungraceful, inelegant. Him? A future ruler? I'd rather be face-down in a ditch in the Street of Sisters than be ruled by him. Why can't he be more like his brother Amir? Regal, powerful, becoming. Instead, we're left with this heap of shit. This heap of wine-loving, woman-wasting, good-for-nothing shit. Good Gods where did the sultan go wrong? All his years of rule and just service and he gets this. So sad. He would never be good enough. All the women he has been with? Ha. He was never man enough to satisfy them. All the boasting he does is just to boost his ego. Is he even a man? He simply will never be good enough for anything. He is the epitome of disappointment. His father only tolerates him. He doesn't love him, so I've heard. He just isn't good enough."

Fingers kept pointing, voices kept jeering...



Munir took a few deep breathes, and the aftertaste was not any better. He heaved slightly before slinking down for a moment. That moment was all he need to gather his mind enough to have all the things he saw and heard come back and hit him like a caravan of camels. It broke him. Through the exhaustion and tears, he simply leaned to his left and started sobbing...

The person, as Munir would discover, was Anastasia. Not that it mattered to him in this moment...

---

The hour was nearly up. Ezra had watched with glee as the three royals raced around the bar. Mayet and Roman were both quite occupied by dancing and flirting, and Nahir and Alden were unable to keep their hands off one another. The cowlicked blonde was busy fighting Zarai. That left the slutty Shezad, the hopeless wonder, the duchess’ dipshit son, and finally, his angel. He noticed a fellow couple unable to extricate themselves for a second of oxygen. They both had Douse The Thirst. Ezra drank his sip of water and spilled some on the floor beside himself when nobody was looking. Ezra then moved forward and slid on the floor convincingly as he grabbed onto the others for support. His glass slipped from his hand across from him and surprised the couple enough for them to break away. ”Oh no!” He cried as he looked around in confusion.

”Oh yikes! Are you okay, mister?” The brunette female asked with panic, her green eyes wide with shock.

”Ariana,” The brown haired and blue-eyed man sighed with a smirk. ”Did you spill your drink?”

”Oh, um, maybe. I’m sorry!” The girl sighed and helped him up. The woman excused herself, mumbling something about needing a moment. Ezra turned to the man now with a grin as he watched him eye the ladies.

”You, uh, you good?” Ezra inquired as he sat down beside the man.

”Sorry, I need to sit; I’ve been standing all night! This place is packed. Isn’t it crazy?” He laughed as if it were a joke.

The man nodded, only half hearing him. ”Hey uh, that girl in the pink dress, she told me she wanted to talk to you.”

He turned to him with surprise. His brows creased but a blank look of shock seemed etched on his face. ”What?”

”Yeah she wanted me to ask you herself but she’s too shy.” The man looked around for the girl but she was “missing”, courtesy of Linden. Ezra smiled at him and waved him on. ”Go on! She’s really friendly.” The man hesitated, but then nodded and approached Anastasia. Ezra leaned back as he watched the scenario play out while hiding a sly smirk on his face.

“Hey dollface,”The man slid himself on the stool next to her and placed a hand on her back. “Wanna look up and talk to me? Promise I don’t bite.” However, the blonde girl did not react to him and kept her arms around her head. He frowned and poked her arm. ”Are you okay, Miss?” He moved her hair away and stared with surprise. It was Princess Anastasia?

Anastasia picked up her head and leaned it on her palm. Her face was tear-stained and she had a defeated look in her amber eyes. “I just don’t feel good.” She managed quietly to the man.

”Do you need me to do anything for you…? Maybe get you water and food?” This was odd. Why did she want to say hello to him?

”No, no… Thank you. I just need to sit here a little while.” She clutched her chest with a pained expression.

”Uh… Okay. Um, do you want me to ask your br-” He began to inquire when Ezra came over with a glare. The man’s expression contorted with confusion. What the hell was happening?

”That’s enough, leave her alone.” His voice was colder than ice and he looked murderous enough to cause the man to move in front of Anna. This only infuriated the man but he was too wild-eyed from the drink. ”DID YOU HEAR ME?” The man jumped with fright and backed away with his hands up. ”Let her be!” The man scurried away with panic after realizing his girlfriend hadn’t returned.

Ezra then sat beside Anastasia and couldn’t help but admire her beauty. ”Are you okay? Is it too loud and bright in here?”

Anastasia had flinched at Ezra’s yelling and she stared at him in alarm. “I d-don’t know. I can’t get my heart to stop racing…” She gave up trying to speak as she was feeling worse by the second. A groan escaped her lips and she laid her head back down on the table.

Ezra frowned, but the glee inside of him could barely be contained. ”Here, I’ll bring you to the back where it’s quieter. I can bring you some water, it might help you calm down. And this way, weirdos won’t bother you,” He gently began to sit her up and move her arm around his neck without waiting for a reply.

“No.” Anastasia answered, perhaps more sharply than she had intended, her arm falling off his neck. She felt on edge enough to recognize the potential this scenario had. Not to mention, she was starting to recall the bad feeling he had initially given her. “I.. want to stay out here.”

Ezra’s expression morphed into amusement. No? She was telling him no? How adorable, as if she could do anything right now. A fire did kindle deep inside of him, but he contained it. ”You think you’re up to doing anything?” His voice became quiet as he leaned over to block her from others' view. ”Do you really think you want to say that, when I am one of the only sober people here?”

“What?” She narrowed her eyes at him. After a moment of trying to mentally conceive what he was about, she mumbled, “...Leave me alone.”

”I don’t think so, Princess.” His voice became colder as he lowered his head to look her in the eyes. ”You see, I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment, little cello.” Ezra traced her jawline with his hand and grinned at her. Anastasia cringed, shrinking away from his hand. ”The side effects of all these drinks are horrible to deal with but two? You’ll be sicker than most of the others. You cannot fight back.”

There was something about this guy that would have sent Anastasia into fight or flight normally. He somehow knew she played the cello and had been waiting for her “a long time.” If she was only going to get sicker from here, then she needed to get away from him now.It dawned on her then as she had been looking at him. Something was familiar about him.She paused and asked with apprehension, “…Who are you?”

Ezra’s smile faded at her glare but he allowed amusement to shine over his face again. Her realization though was quicker than he’d anticipated. Before Ezra could answer, Munir was at their side and leaning toward Anastasia, who lifted her head at the sudden pressure and sound of sobbing.

She frowned and gently guided his head to her lap and began to run her fingers through his hair, petting him, though she did face-plant her own head into the bar after that with a groan. Petting the Alidasht prince was a comforting thought. Anastasia had always liked to pet or hug a teddy bear or pillow when stressed. He would do for now. She wondered why he was crying, but she was becoming so lethargic that the idea of speaking sounded as draining as taking a hike.

Munir continued to sob. All the voices and accusatory thoughts flowed through his mind. He simply felt inadequate. He wasn’t the favorite son. He wasn’t the radiant prince worthy of the throne. Hewaisn’t the conquering womanizer he thought himself to be. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and just cry his heart out. He was so far from home, the comforts of their summer palace. He could not find the strength in himself to even lift his arms right now. All he could do is leave his head on Anastasia’s lap and sob.

“Look at him. Being vulnerable and comforted by a foreign bitch. How unsightly. Crying like that in public, surely he had lost his manhood somewhere on the dance floor.” Ezra stared at the man on Anastasia’s lap and shook his head with disgust. So much for this kingdom being intimidating. This was the weak link here. What a little bitch. Did losing his mommy make him a pathetic waste of space?
He watched as Anastasia began to stroke his hair and all he saw was red. He grabbed Munir by the scruff and tossed him across the room like a frisbee towards the bar and over it. He laughed gleefully, his laughter cold and sadistic as if it were his birthday. ”There goes the Alidasht! SCORE!”. He then rounded on Anastasia and grabbed her by the hair and lifted her up. They were eye-to-eye now. ”We can do this the easy way or the hard way, princess,” He glared at her as he slammed her up against the wall and stared her down.

Anastasia had inhaled and reached for Munir, only to see him being tossed aside. She tried to move herself off the stool after him, but exhaustion hit her like a train. She practically fell off the stool, but unluckily for her, her hair was caught by Ezra’s grasp. She cried out in pain as his grip was not a gentle one. There was so much chaos in the bar at this point that perhaps it had been overlooked. Her eyes had shut in fear on impulse and when they did open again, she found herself up against a wall. Terrified amber eyes met Ezra’s.

”You come with me and not make a sound, or I kill your brother and that little bitch of a prince. What say you, Annie?” He stroked her cheek and waited with bated breath for her response. ”Tick tock goes the clock. You got ten seconds to respond or I’ll murder them. Wystan isn’t here for you now. Maybe he’ll get into an accident on the way here. Who knows!”

As her heart raced, she couldn’t help but start to cry at his words as panic wracked her body. The last thing she wanted was for Callum to get hurt or for even poor Munir, who was suffering so much tonight already. Then the mention of Wystan on top of it all made her heart shatter to pieces. She had no idea what Wystan felt about her truly but the idea of him getting hurt managed to make her feel more ill somehow.

She had to agree to go with him. Even if she did not agree, it wasn’t like she could fight back.

The cries slowed as the heavy feeling of defeat set in. Anastasia understood very well what was happening. Again, she was going to be kidnapped and nobody would come for her this time. Why would they? All this was her fault tonight, really. She had led everyone here. Her family was certainly tired of her anyway. She could imagine her father saying “good riddance” as he learned she did not return home. They’d all move on easily. Maybe even Auguste, who seemed to care about her most…But if he did not have her to stress about anymore, he would be better off. They all would.

Maybe this was for the best then, that she just disappeared.

”... Please don’t hurt anyone. I won’t resist.” Anastasia finally whispered.

Munir was sobbing inconsolably, and he felt a person’s hands running their fingers through his hair. Normally, this would absolutely soothe him to the point of him nearly purring. Their touch was warm and most gentle. However, this sadness and anxiety he was feeling is unlike any he has felt before. This one was deep, it was as if someone dug up his deepest shames and insecurities and made them into a series of paintings and made Munir look at them without rest. He felt himself reach his arms up to embrace this person. Whoever it was, it didn’t matter at that moment. All he was trying to do was find any semblance of comfort and reprieve from whatever the fuck he was feeling.

Then, in a flash, he was jerked upwards. Some ungodly strength physically lifted him from how he was slumped. Without another word, from the source of the ungodly strength or Munir, Munir felt himself being flung aside like a ragdoll. His brain, in its current state, did not process what just happened. In fact, it was just blank as he was hurled into the bar.

”There goes the Alidasht! SCORE!”

Those were the next words Munir heard, once the ringing in his ears cleared up somewhat. He stumbled to his feet, trying his damnedest to find his balance. Using whatever strength he had in his arms, he propped himself up against the bar counter. Faintly, he made out the gurgled mumbles of who would be his assailant.

”... or I kill your brother and that little bitch of a prince. What say you, Annie?”

Munir, with a raging battle of both his fight-or-flight response and absolute fatigue going on in his own body, instinctively reached for his sash, the one that never left his side. The same one that had a golden hook normally used to secure the sash itself. He uncoiled it from his waist and clumsily cracked it to his right side, “Hey! You leb er go! You brute!” Munir then whipped his arm forward, sending the golden hook towards the pair at the wall. The hook itself whizzed past the right arm of the man who was currently holding Anastasia up by her hair. His vision was blurry and his aim was not true. Normally, the strike would have caused the hook to wrap around the man’s neck and began choking the air in which he breathed out of him.

However, this time, the hook dug harmlessly into the wall. Munir, still seeing double, drew his arm back, causing the impromptu whip to come flying back towards himself. With another grunt of effort, he cracked his arm forward again, this time sending the hook curling past the man, digging into the wall behind Anastasia, the tip of the hook missing Anastasia’s neck by only a few inches.

Fatigue was winning out, Munir can feel himself crumbling towards the ground. But by the Sun Gods he would do whatever he could to unhand the man from Anastasia.

Ezra watched with elation as Annie processed the situation. Her terror was as delicious as a Thanksgiving feast, and her defeat was the icing on the cake. He laughed maniacally as he thought of the cake and looked into her eyes. ”WOW! You are SMARTER than you look aren't you? Got some sense in that tiny pea brain of yours!” He ruffled her hair with his free hand and grinned from ear to ear. ”Sounds good to me, PRINCESS!” His voice rose dramatically and loudly, as he hoped to add intimidation into the factor. Then, a gurgled and weakened voice filled his ears as he turned slightly to see the prince was back on his feet. What a show this was! The honor of embarrassing this piece of shit crybaby was too much to bear. However, his smile faded as he watched a hook fly next to them and narrowly missed. He watched as he cracked it back and tried again, this time narrowly missing Anastasia. He furiously turned to him and dropped Anastasia from the wall, but rolled her onto her back and stepped on her to stop her from leaving.

”Congratulations. You don’t have any weapons now.” He said coolly as he bent down and grabbed a nearby glass. He smashed it over her head to further scare her and picked up one of the shards as the glass rained down upon them. He pushed a large piece in his pocket momentarily, then grabbed Annie by the hair and took it back out. ”But I do, and if you or anyone, comes a step closer, I will slit her throat; because if I can’t have her, NO ONE WILL!!”

---

The sun had already begun to set on the horizon as Farim made his journey across the grasslands of Caesonia. His ship had already taken a detour on its journey across the sea, but thankfully he was left with a caravan to hasten his trip to Sorian Castle. He gazed out the window, hearing the pittering of the hooves of the horses that drew the carriage he was residing in while thinking about the previous events. He hoped that his dealings in the sprouting bud of a city known as Saru wouldn’t be too much of a blow to his social standing with these nobles that sought so eagerly to earn favor with the Sultanate.

He could only imagine how the night had progressed, wondering what kind of mischief his cousins would get into. This idle thought would keep him plenty occupied while he watched the sun begin to set, finally making his way into Sorian. The caravan came to a stop outside the castle, and it was very clear by the lack of activity that festivities, at least for tonight, had come to an end. He quickly made his way out of his carriage, and addressed a few servants about what he would like done with his luggage, ending with a satisfied clap of his hands before moving onward himself towards the guesthouse they had driven him up to.

He eyed up the housing, not quite used to the style of his Caesonian neighbors, but not looking to judge too harshly. He was under their care after all, and he resolved himself to not show much disapproval towards any lack of luxuries he may be used to. He walked up to the front door of the guest house, opening the door with ease and stepping into the main room, where he happened to see a familiar face sitting on the couch facing a low lit fireplace. The flames danced and the light seemed to hug along every surface in the immediate area. He smiled softly, happy that he was able to see a familiar face so soon after arriving so late.

”Ah, Saiya. It is so good to see you. How has the night gone? Anything fun I should know about?”

Saiya had chosen to stay behind while the other Alidasht kids went on to the secret afterparty that they insisted she come to as well, but she knew Farim was supposed to be there any time now. It wouldn’t do if he arrived and no one was there to greet him, especially when he’d likely seek out his uncle or father and ask where everyone was. No, they needed someone to stay behind if they didn’t wish the secret party to be discovered. She promised to try and convince him to go once he was there so the Kadir sisters made sure Saiya was dressed appropriately for the party.

The outfit they put her in was quite different from her normal everyday dress, but wasn’t much different from the outfits she wore when she danced. She always quickly changed after her dances, however, so the fact that she would be wearing this for the remainder of the night had her feeling a little uncomfortable. Thankfully she was currently wrapped in a cloak so as to not raise suspicion as she sat by the fire and read her book.

A familiar voice reached her and she turned to look at the man who had just entered the guest house. ”Farim!” Her face lit up as she sat the book down and stood. On silent, bare feet, she almost seemed to glide over to him as she threw her arms around him in a hug. ”How was your travels? Hopefully you had no major issues?” She asked in her soft, melodic voice as she took a step back and looked up at him.

He smiled as she approached, having known Saiya since she was brought under his father’s wing, he was always happy to see her. His father would often spend most of his free time with her, leaving Farim to read, study, or do whatever he would like in peace. Whatever few moments he wasn’t badgering her about her behavior, her dress, where she would walk, what she would say, and a list of other things, he would often find her in more secluded areas of the palace, hidden away from the pressures of noble life and singing her heart out. That same voice rang out so melodically as she spoke to him, he smiled ear to ear, his eyelids coming together as he returned the boisterous hug she gave him.

”Woah! It is nice to see you too, my friend. My travels were rather dull, sitting in the back of a carriage, but I am here now. I was able to finish off the startup for the trade post and I rushed back here as quick as the ships could carry me. I hope I did not miss much.” He spoke with a hint of regret in his voice for not being there for the grand entrance he had seen everyone planning for. He looked around, noticing it was just the two of them and raised an eyebrow.

”I doubt everyone went off to bed this early…least of all Nahir or Munir…So where is the party?” He spoke with a sly smile, his eyes slowly moving down and then back up, noticing the interesting garb she was likely asked to wear. ”I see you’re certainly dressed for one. How kind of you to wait on me before heading out for a night of fun~. He spoke in a teasing manner, but there was genuine joy behind his voice as he spoke. He gave himself a look over, making sure there were no wrinkles or creases in his clothes before giving a nod and another smile to Saiya.

Saiya glanced down at herself briefly and felt her cheeks heat a little as she quickly pulled the cloak back around her, glancing around quickly to make sure there were no spying eyes. ”Your cousins thought my typical dress wasn’t appropriate for…well, come. I’ll fill you in on the way.” She said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door. She led him to a small carriage, climbing into it and beckoning him to follow. ”You missed quite the entertaining entrance, unfortunately. Your father was knocked off his palanquin thanks to an unfortunately clumsy man. Your uncle, too, but he was far more merciful. Thankfully no one lost their head, despite your father demanding it.” She said once he was in the carriage with her. ”Also we’re heading to a secret after party. That’s another reason I waited for you, I couldn’t have you giving away that people weren’t in their rooms.” She smirked at him.

He felt his hand grabbed and pulled, his feet and head lagging a moment behind his torso as he was pulled by her towards the smaller carriage. He ducked his head so that his nearby entourage would not spy him leaving the guest house, and climbed into the carriage with Saiya. His eyes began to widen and he could barely contain the smirk sliding from the corner of his mouth at the mention of his father being embarrassed. ”Oh what a sight that must have been. I can only imagine his temper, and I’m somewhat glad I didn’t have to see it now that you tell me. But thankfully they didn’t just let Hafiz just run amuk.” He chuckled at the mention of the party, leaning over to give her a slight nudge with his elbow as he looked at her with a grin. ”Well how kind of you to be looking out for me. I am always one to enjoy a little sneaking off into the night. Let us enjoy ourselves!” Farim was glad to finally be done with business. He could take some time to enjoy himself, and relax the rest of the night away with his family who he was sure were up to no good.

The carriage continued silently into the night, the two having a rather bubbly conversation about their most recent events. He would smile as they talked, taking occasional glances out of the window to see a little more of the new country they had traveled so far to visit. He noticed the carriage coming to a stop, not seeing much of a noticeable club or entrance at first glance. He initially raised an eyebrow and looked at Saiya, as if questioning ”Is this the right place?” without uttering a word. He would open the door and hold his hand for her, beckoning her to step down and show him where this “secret party” was being held, as his curiosity was growing by the minute.

She glanced at the building as well, eyes narrowing a bit as she was a little unsure and pulled out the invitation that was in her cloak pocket. She read it over again briefly and then nodded. ”According to the invitation this is correct. I’m now concerned, however, because I let your cousins come to this strange place alone.” She said, feeling a twinge of fear that she made a mistake in doing so. While she had no doubt they could easily take care of themselves, Saiya had always felt a need to protect all of them to the best of her ability. Perhaps it was her love for Sultana Esrin that caused her to wish to keep them all safe or maybe it was the loss of Kahrem that had her a bit paranoid.

She took hold of his hand as she stepped out of the carriage, feet still bare as she despised wearing shoes, and glanced up at Farim. ”I guess we go inside and find out and pray it’s not a trap where everyone is dead.” She said it partially jokingly, but there was real concern in her voice as she started to head for the door, invitation still in her hand.

His gaze hardened as he looked around, scanning the darker corners for anything suspicious. He placed a single hand on Saiya’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring nod. ”Come now, Saiya. These are our cousins we are talking about. I think Mayet and Layla alone could probably level a capital. They would have returned to the guest house if there was trouble.” He followed her towards the door, opening it first to see what exactly is in store for them. He took the lead, and her hand, as they walked slowly down the stairs and through the fog until they reached the strange man holding white masks in either hand. Farim politely declined the offer with a quick raise of his palm, still keeping Saiya close while he wandered into the main room. Immediately his vision seemed to clear, and the spectacle before his eyes unfolded. He witnessed several of his family members, intermingling with others that he could only assume were of nobility as well, engaging in an array of exaggerated and intense behaviors. He smirked, looking back towards Saiya and nodding his head towards the bar. ”Well it seems the party has started, perhaps we should start with a drink?”

Saiya made sure she kept very close to him, holding onto his hand tighter than she probably should have as they entered the warehouse. Her other hand hovered over where her daggers were hidden in her cloak, ready for the worst. Thankfully the worst didn’t happen. There did seem to be a strange man passing out masks and, while Farim denied the mask, she did take one. She figured it would be better to blend in if need be. She was fiddling with the mask with her one hand and initially didn’t take note of the unusualness of the afterparty in front of them.

When she finally looked up, she paused and stared in shock. It was Farim’s voice that pulled her out of her thoughts as she looked over at him. It took her a moment to register what he was saying, but then she grinned. ”You go ahead, I might grab one later. For now I think I’ll stick with water and maybe dance some.”

Farim would shrug and make his way over to the bar, still insistently pulling Saiya along as they made it past the party guests, noticing their bizarre reactions, but paying not much mind. Surely it is just the alcohol. Everyone relieving stresses. Yes yes that must be it. This is all Farim would tell himself as he practically rushed to the bar, eager to just enjoy the night. Looking towards the bar, he would take note of all the various drinks available for picking. So many unique and colorful choices, each one catching his eye and raising more and more curiosities. That’s when he spied a particularly alluring drink, one colored blue that seemed to contain clouds in the glass, and a faint scent of sweet flowers hit Farim’s nostrils. His curiosity finally won over as he decided what his first drink of the night would be.

”Wonderful barkeep! This blue drink is simply…alluring. Might I trouble you for a glass? And before I get too ahead of myself…my name is Farim, and it’s a lovely place you have here. I’d also love to get a glass of water for my friend, she is rather parched you see.” He watched as the bartender nodded, their cool demeanor remaining constant as they wordlessly prepared a “Conquer the Mountain” and a glass of water, just as Farim had requested. With a nod, she pushed both drinks their way, and Farim, in his excitement, handed the water to Saiya before giving a slight bow. ”Let’s have us a toast for a safe journey, and hopefully a riveting party!” He raised his glass towards Saiya, tilting it forward as he went for the toast.

She followed him to the bar, but her eyes scanned the crowd as she located where each of the Kadir children were. Despite being told to relax, she couldn’t help but look out for those she considered her family. In doing so she began noticing the odd behaviors of others. Perhaps they were all just drunk already. Definitely would be best if she stuck to drinking water. Her attention was then pulled back to Farim and the glass of water now in front of her. She grabbed the glass and grinned up at her friend as she raised her own glass in a toast. ”Yes, let’s make it a fun night and see if these Caesonian’s truly know how to party.” She said in reply before taking a sip of the water.

Farim brought the glass to his lips, a chill running down his jaw as he felt the liquid hit his throat. The drink had such a sweet aroma, with a hint of raspberries to its taste that made Farim smack his lips a few times to really savor that flavor. His eyebrows would raise up as he felt a swelling in his chest. That same chill on his jaw traveled throughout his body as he felt his body begin to feel like it was floating already. Is this the drink? Surely it wasn’t strong enough to send me reeling already. But gods it is good! That floating joyous feeling bubbling in his chest prompted him to drink more. Sip after sip, he took the drink to his lips, not realizing he was practically chugging the drink before placing the drink down on the counter.

It was then that his body felt simply amazing, almost the best he had felt in a long time. His entire body felt light, and every little action felt so positively stimulating. He took in a deep breath, feeling like he was breathing the cleanest air he ever breathed. His eyes opened once more as he shook his arms slightly, giving his body a few hops as he felt just how limber and amazing this new feeling that was spreading throughout him, almost even more so once he finished his drink. He went to speak, but couldn’t even stifle his voice as he looked at Saiya. ”SAIYA! THIS PLACE IS AMAZING! WHAT A LOVELY ATMOSPHERE! WHAT LOVELY GUESTS! OH THESE DRINKS! GOODNESS I WANT ANOTHER BUT I CAN’T EVEN STOP MYSELF FROM MOVING! SAIYA! DANCE WITH ME WILL YOU?” Before she could even respond he would wrap his arm around her, bringing her to the floor and clearing a spot, giving her one final look as he stepped a few paces from her. ”OH LET’S DO THAT ONE DANCE WE SAW AT OUR LAST COURT! THE ONE WHOSE DRESS YOU LOVED AND WHERE THE GUY TRIPPED AT THE END! HOO WHAT A GLORIOUS DANCE IT WAS!”” His nodding grew almost too enthusiastic as he eagerly awaited for her to start this dance he had been referencing.

The complete shift in mood had caught Saiya off guard and she was rather concerned as she watched Farim. Had he been drinking on his way to the castle? Surely he wasn’t drunk after one drink, right? ”I…Farim, why are you shouting? I’m right here, I can hear you just fine.” The music was loud, but it wasn’t loud enough that she felt like he needed to shout in such a way. It seemed like her words didn’t really reach him, however, as he pulled her to the dance floor. ”Of course I won’t deny you a dance, but are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She questioned, her brows furrowing as she glanced around to see if anyone else was noticing the odd behavior. It seemed, however, that they all were acting odd as well and so no one was looking. That was a relief, at least.

His next words hit her and she turned her attention back to him, blinking in confusion. Dance? With a dress she loved and the guy tripped at the end? She really had to dig deep into her memory to even remotely realize what he was talking about. She vaguely remembered a dance that she thought was nice, but she couldn’t recall any of the steps. ”Why don’t you start the dance out? I can’t remember all the steps, you’ll have to guide me!” She said, not wanting to discourage his enthusiasm.

His movements were still coordinated, as he nodded some more at her suggestion. His hand almost seemed to have a mind of its own as he seemingly tapped the air to the beat of the music. His eyes closed and he took in a breath, not wasting a moment before he began his performance. He kicked his foot outwards, his arms swinging back gracefully as he began to twirl his hips in a firm and single sweeping motion, following through yet again with his foot before switching off to the other, bouncing back and forth between each side as his body got into the rhythm of the music pounding throughout the club. His arms swung around, one behind him, one in front, and his knees bent and buckled, bringing him to a kneeling position on the floor. The hand in front of him pointed towards the dance floor, not quite touching as even Farim wasn’t bold enough to touch the floors. After all, who knows what happens on these floors? His hand traced a single line across the air above the ground just inches away from Saiya’s feet. He looked up towards her as he bounced back up with a surge of energy, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder as he felt rather proud of his little dance. ”WELL? RING ANY BELLS?”

Slowly, while watching him, she remembered parts of the dance and she began nodding some. ”Um, yes. I think I remember now.” She said as she went on to pick up the next part of the dance, as she shimmied her hips from one side to the other, continuing the dance he’d started while grinning at him. ”This one, right?” Little did she know they were starting to draw the attention of some who weren’t used to Alidasht dancing.

His smile somehow grew wider, if it could be considered possible. His teeth showed as he saw her joining him. He had all this energy, all this optimism, practically bursting forth as every step seemed much more exaggerated than the last. He approached her for the next part of the dance, moving his arms opposite of hers in quick but fluid motions as they lifted and raised them in unison. He noticed a few wandering gazes, but he only saw them as more witnesses to the exotic, and fun, ways of his nation and his people. As they began to separate for the next part of the dance, his eagerness overtook him and he felt as if his body began to move on its own. His feet simply seemed to glide across the floor, moving in a large circle as his upper body would twist and turn to the music. Soon he would plant himself lower to the ground, only tapping on the floor for mere moments before sending his body into several circles while laying lower to the ground with each passing moment. He planted his knee to ground himself and turned his head to face Saiya, almost completely losing himself in the dance and seeing if she was still dancing.

The stares that the enthusiastic dance drew was causing Saiya to become uncomfortable as she glanced at the cheering and clapping people. She felt her face heating some as she slowly and silently backed up. Any time he’d glance at her she’d force a smile onto her face. Eventually she couldn’t take the spotlight any longer and she slipped into the crowd, calling upon her skills of disappearing into the shadows. She still kept an eye on Farim and the others, but she needed a minute to calm her anxious heart.

He met her gaze, albeit through a mask, and noticed the smile. WELL AT LEAST SHE’S SMILING. SHE’S HAVING FUN! THAT’S LOVELY! He thought to himself, even his thoughts were loud and boisterous. He stood back up, spinning around on foot and then looking around with a confused smile as he noticed she had disappeared. He scanned the crowd for a moment before shrugging. He figured that she must be looking for their cousins, perhaps she had wanted to check on them before dancing! Surely that could be it! He resumed his high-spirited dancing, letting out a loud shout beforehand. ”LET ME SHOW YOU HOW WE DO THINGS IN ALIDASHT!”

---

Over the next hour, Saiya kept herself in the shadows as she watched over her family. Nahir seemed to have found a toy to play with and Munir seemed to be with a group, including the Ceasonian prince and princess. Farim had continued dancing after she’d slipped away. Things were beginning to drastically change, however, as she watched Callum become acquainted with the floor. Munir also seemed to be losing it, as he began sobbing onto Anastasia. She felt alarmed as she watched all these people go from a high to a low. Was a similar fate about to befall Farim soon? She needed to get them out of here soon. She began shoving her way through the crowd, heading for Farim.

Farim was simply feeling amazing. All these beautiful women, all these lovely drinks, so many good drinks. Maybe he would have another? Maybe not, I’m a little full on my drinks. He thought to himself, suddenly feeling a strange shift. He did not suddenly feel like shouting every word he spoke or thought. He barely even noticed it until now, but he really had been extremely animated. He finished his dance, breathing heavily, suddenly feeling the fatigue of his actions for the past hour. He fanned his robes against his chest and wandered over to the bar once more, simply needing to sit for a moment…just a moment…Why am I so tired already? The night has barely begun…Has it been that long? When was the last time I danced like that? He continued thinking as he leaned against the bar, feeling his energy begin to almost fall off of him.

”Farim? Are you doing okay? It seems everyone here is beginning to crash. Maybe we should get the cousins and head home?” Saiya asked as she made it to Farim finally, gently touching his arm. She tilted her head around to look at him, concern showing on her face. Something definitely wasn’t right here.

Farim heard a voice. It was familiar, but his mind was starting to buzz more and more. Still, he would think it rude to not respond…What did they say again?”I..why am…I’m just really tired. I think…oh…it is you Saiya. Maybe heading home is good. I can…maybe…I… His voice was so much more muted, compared to his shouting from earlier at least. His head barely moved to look at her, this fatigue beginning to hit fast and hard. He could barely focus on standing, opting instead to lean against the bar even more as he tried to speak to her. His eyes slowly began to gloss over as his attention waned and wandered. ”Maybe…I…um….uh…go home…yeah…”

”Yeah that sounds like a good idea then.” She said, a gentleness to her voice as she put his arm over her shoulder. ”Come on, let’s get you to the carriage and then I’ll gather the others. Can you walk?” She then began trying to lead him out of the club.

His attention was rapidly fading, his body barely able to stand as is. Her arm around his shoulder felt so warm…why? He was feeling colder by the second. ”Perhaps…it’s…time…let’s…go….” Each word was harder to speak, his voice growing soft and almost saddening. His eyes hurt, his legs were like lead, and he could barely turn as he moved to follow the voice of his friend while maintaining that selfsame 1000 yard stare towards the ground.

To say Saiya was struggling would have been an understatement. Something was very wrong as her friend could barely move. She was practically dragging him towards the door and as she finally got through it she almost screamed in frustration as she remembered the stairs. If she was struggling so hard to just get him to the door, how in the world was she to get him up the stairs? After a few failed attempts to get him up the first step, she gave up and helped him sit down on the bottom step. ”Farim, stay here. I can’t get you up the stairs right now. I’m going to go get the others and hope someone can help get you up the stairs. I’ll be right back, okay?” She said as she knelt in front of him, trying to look in his eyes to make sure he understood her. After a moment, she turned and rushed back into the party to find the other Kadir children and get them out of there.

Mentions: @Potter Persephone, @Helo Callum, Anastasia

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Left alone in the meeting room, Wulfric paced for a minute or two. If it hadn’t been for father discovering the after-party affair, and bringing it to attention so soon…he would have likely urged the investigators to make haste compiling and inspecting evidence of Violet’s murder. Then again, he now knew for certain some shahzade and shezhadi had been roped into Callum and Anastasia’s unwise scheme. That was concerning enough to tend to sooner rather than later.

His thoughts were interrupted by a guard arriving – the one he’d ordered to come make a report on the night’s patrols. Wulfric got a brief overview of the guards’ movements south of the castle between nine and ten. As expected, until the body’s discovery by Dr. Williamson, nothing and no one of particular note had been seen. Wulfric dismissed the guard back to his duties, then informed select servants where he would be relocating, so as to ensure those who needed to would find him easily.

Arrangements made, he grabbed the map, his notes from the previous meeting, and Calbert’s sketch of the suspect, and promptly made his way to Auguste’s office. He knocked once against the wooden door, then let himself in.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Auguste, but we’ve urgent matters to discuss.” The office was familiar; the two had visited each other in their studies on numerous occasions.

Auguste looked up from his documents as Wulfric entered his office, his tired eyes meeting his brother’s own. A smile met his brother all the same.

“Father has discovered the existence of the after party – via a missing carriage, of all things,” Wulfric’s tone revealed how ridiculously obvious he thought their younger siblings had been. “According to him, the Sultan’s children and some others were led elsewhere by Callum. I offered to handle the matter, but he did mention he would have someone find them.” He gave his brother a small, lopsided smirk. Auguste and he were aware of the general area of the party, and had had Wystan follow there. With the king busy obtaining information they already possessed, the two of them could talk in peace.

Auguste sighed, taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. Callum. He thought wearily yet unsurprised. “My, it seems like father has caught up with what we know so far.” He stretched his hand to shake off the stiffness. Wulfric had that look about him that he had more to discuss. “... It appears you have more to say.”

“Yes,” Wulfric sighed. “Perhaps we should send backup for Wystan first,” he suggested. “As for the other situation at hand…” the eldest brother faced his younger one with a grave expression. “Violet Damien was murdered,” he announced, and let a moment pass for the information to set in.

“We can send for Harper and a knight to escort her.” The situation seemed dire if Wystan required backup. He looked at his brother’s grave countenance before continuing. “... Perhaps it’s best I set off after this meeting?”

Auguste’s eyes widened at Wulfric’s final words. “Violet… murdered?” He sunk back into his seat to take in the words. A murder occurring under the Danroses’ vigil? Right after their event? The Damien family... Although he may not personally like Count Damien, a loss of their family is a piteous occasion. A mix of pity and indignation swirled within the Auguste. Pity for the Damien family and indignation at the fact that someone would murder someone so close to the Royal castle and get away with it.

Auguste quickly recomposed himself. The tiredness in his eyes disappeared, instead replaced with focus and zeal.

When Auguste was ready to proceed, Wulfric motioned for him to clear the desk. Then, he set the items he’d brought with him on it. He tapped the sketch of the blonde woman which he’d placed on top. “She is the one concrete lead we have, so please, whatever you know…” he cajoled, because he did expect Auguste to offer some resistance when it was an acquaintance of his who was indicated as a potential suspect.

Persephone, the young lady he danced with and offered food to. Although he was merely acquainted with her, she did not seem the type to murder in cold blood. Looks could certainly be deceiving, but he would trust his own gut… unless further evidence implicated her as the murderer. “Persephone, yes… I danced with her.” He tapped his finger on the sketch, “I do not know the young lady beyond that, however.”

Wulfric looked up sharply. “You know her name? That is helpful.”

Auguste paused, hesitant to relay this piece of information. Another moment of silence passed before he spoke, “I did indeed offer her access to the pantry for leftovers… although a servant was to accompany and watch her as she did so.” He tented his fingers. “Surely that would lessen suspicion on her?”

Wulfric finally took a seat across Auguste, nodding slowly. Not in agreement, but because he was restructuring the heretofore known information. “Count Damien had seen her with what he believed was bread stolen from the ball, and then found a piece of it right next to the body…Doctor Williamson saw someone who could have been her leaving the scene, though he wasn’t certain. I imagine it is likely that she was the one there, however…” he crossed one leg over the other, leaning back into the seat as he thought. He wasn’t certain how helpful it would be to reveal to his brother his own doubts as to whether this woman was the murderer.

“I will be frank with you,” he declared his decision. “There are some inconsistencies that leave much room for the murderer to be someone else. Yet, we must pursue her.” Wulfric considered it self-evident why; running away was indeed suspicious.

“Of course.” Auguste stole a glance at the sketch, “That would be the most sensible course of action.”

“You know…” Wulfric leaned on Auguste’s desk, a tight-lipped smile forming. “Count Damien did mention this woman had overheard a conversation between him and someone else. If you question her first, with your friendly face and approach - she may reveal what it is that Calbert would prefer to hide. And if she is the murderer, I wouldn’t be surprised if the implied promise of your backing would be enough to entice her to a confession,” he concluded, and settled back into his chair. What Wulfric didn’t mention was that if Auguste didn’t extract any information from her, someone else would, and on much less pleasant terms.

Auguste smiled at Wulfric's plan. “A cunning proposition, brother. One that almost satisfies both of our worries. Truly a mind geared for politics,” Auguste complimented. “You’re right. If anything, we’ve built a small rapport. There is a decent chance she confesses and if she does, best she does so whilst under our... direct supervision.”

“The most pressing matter - figuring out what sort of ordeal our siblings had dived into and secure both them and our guests safely.” he said in a matter-of-fact manner as he fiddled with his quill, “Actually, would you mind elaborating on why Wystan needed assistance?”

“Not assistance per se. But it might be faster than waiting for him to return, and I’d prefer to know who exactly is at the party and what state they are in as soon as possible. Though if you’d already ordered him to be expedient, then there is no need for anyone else. I do worry who all father sent to search for them, and what their orders are…” it was a factor he had no oversight of, which was both worrying and irksome.

Auguste waited for Wulfric's explanation before continuing. “Secondly, once we get in contact with Wystan again, we must use his… seedier connections to find Persephone.” Auguste said, “If she is on the run, they have the best chance of finding her faster than whomever Count Damien sends. It is also best we clue in Harper into this.”

“Ah, yes - but do not mention it was Violet who was murdered, or that this pertains to Calbert. There are only a few of us who are aware - father excluded.” Wulfric had just remembered that he’d not yet informed Auguste that the victim’s identity would not be announced. “While he wishes to conceal this for Crystal’s sake, I do not want the populace to panic, which they surely would if it was known that such a high-profile target was killed.”

Auguste nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, it is best we limit this knowledge to those within our circle of trust.” Calbert’s request was reasonable. Even if the Danroses had much to gain, he would block such a distasteful course of action; parading that a parent’s daughter had been murdered is much too much.

“I also believe we need to have a word with the servant who was to accompany her, they might’ve seen something… or perhaps they’re the spy-” he cut himself off, “No, no it would be treading into baseless conspiracy to lay such accusations.”

“Well, you can have that servant questioned,” Wulfric didn’t seem too concerned. “However, the body was discovered an hour after the ball, so I wouldn’t expect much from that line of inquiry.” He reached a hand out, and set the sketch of Persephone aside, revealing the marked map of Sorian and his notes underneath. “See?” he tapped at the documents. “These were the patrol routes…when the doctor found the body here,” he pointed at the x on the map, “the guards were around here,” he indicated another location fairly nearby. “And if you read through that,” he nodded at the notes, “you’ll notice we have scant facts.”

“Hmm. Considering the time-frame, you may be right regarding the servant.” Although his suspicions lessened, it may be best he still ask some questions to the servant if they had seen anything out of the ordinary as a precautionary measure.

Auguste read the notes and scanned the map, trailing the patrol route around the site of murder. Could it have been planned or a simple happenstance?

Wulfric gave Auguste a moment to go through the information. “Putting aside Persephone, what impression do you have of the murder? While I have ideas on the motive, I am unclear as to the method, whether the act was planned or not…or if we should take it as an indicator of greater underlying social unrest.”

“I would like to hear your thoughts on the motive first, brother.” Auguste eyed Wulfric expectantly. From the years he’s known Wulfric, his modus operandi revolved around logic and reasoning. Wulfric's relative objectivity was one he valued greatly.

“Very well,” Wulfric agreed. “The most obvious one to me is a deep grudge against Calbert Damien. I would wager he was the intended target of this attack rather than Violet.” With how reclusive she’d been, it was unlikely that she’d gained someone’s enmity to the point of them killing her for it. “So, someone who resents and hates the count,” he concluded.

“While Count Damien himself noted Persephone might desire vengeance against him - for having ‘confronted’ her for the spying and theft…” he tapped his fingers against the armrest. “It is unlikely, though not impossible, that she would come to harbour such animosity from a single meeting. I’d sooner say she ran because she was afraid,” Wulfric speculated.

“While I'm aware that Count Damien is not in the most stable emotional state given the circumstances, that is quite a reaching accusation.” Auguste sighed, brows creasing. Wulfric rolled a shoulder. “To quote the count, he was ‘admittedly harsh with the girl’ during their initial meeting.”

He closed his eyes, “Now, where was I…” then opened them after a short moment. “Ah, yes. If the murderer is not Persephone, it might be a person the count is unaware of. For one, I find it difficult to believe he would leave such an enemy lying around if he knew of them.” If it were him, Wulfric would prefer to remove such dangers, and suspected it was the same for Calbert. “For another, he would name them as a suspect - of course, he is yet to relay a full list of potential culprits,” he allowed. “But the others he did mention as suspicious were…Kazumin Nagasa, the storyteller, and Lord Roman Ravenwood,” his tone revealed he considered both dubious options.

“It seems more likely that this was happenstance than planned given how… haphazard this situation occurred.” Auguste replied. He raised a brow at the other two suspects. “It appears we truly have scant details and evidence.”

“If it is someone Calbert could not name, someone outside the sphere of his influence…someone confident that they would not be discovered…” Wulfric trailed off. Obviously, such a person would be hard for them to find as well.
“The second idea is a more speculative one, and likely giving the killer too much credit. However, it may be someone who detests nobility, and who wished to make a statement. If that is the case, we should be wary of the possibility of them acting again.”

“Certainly a possibility, especially given the current civil unrest within our kingdom,” Auguste agreed. “Though an odd and clumsy message to send to nobility.”

There was a lull of silence as Auguste gathered his thoughts. He let a few moments pass in thought before speaking. “I'm leaning more towards the likelihood of this being an extremely unfortunate happenstance.” He crossed his arms. “As you've stated, Violet was likely not the target. A warning to Count Damien… perhaps? Or a botched assassination.”

“A thing to consider, this would-be assassin's confidence to murder within vicinity of patrolling guards.” Auguste said, “Though they may have simply been lucky, is there a possibility that they knew the route of the patrolling guards? Being able to dodge the patrols is no easy feat.” Especially given how Auguste had personally rigorously trained the patrols. “Perhaps Violet was lured and murdered in a location the assassin knew no guards patrolled. Though… as you've said, this may be giving the assassin too much credit.”

“It is precisely because of how well-guarded that area is, and there being such mystery as to how the murder was committed that I was thinking it could have been planned. But as you said, it is not conclusive,” Wulfric gave his input.

“Speculations aside, given the scant details, further investigation is necessary.” Auguste concluded. There was very little to go off of.

“Indeed. That will be commenced tomorrow,” Wulfric folded an arm across his lap. “While we wait to receive word from Wystan…We can attain intelligence from sources closer at hand. I believe ascertaining the situation at the guest house is most critical. If any of those who’ve remained behind are already aware that something unusual is occurring…” he grimaced minutely.

“Sounds like a plan.” Auguste agreed as he rose from his seat. “Shall we?”

Wulfric tilted his head to the side, surprised. “Hmm? No, if we head there personally, that would be much too conspicuous. Let’s send someone.

“Ah, alright. We could do that.” Auguste said, scratching his cheek. It definitely was best to delegate the task to someone else. The duo were too conspicuous to be doing such tasks anyway.

After some time, the servant who had been sent had returned to the brothers. The dark-haired Bernadette stepped up to them, clearing her throat. There had been enough witnesses to get a decent report on what had occurred earlier tonight. “Your Highnesses. I have the story, I believe. Princess Anastasia came in earlier tonight and asked many to meet her at the stable. Shehzadi Nahir Kadir, Shehzadi Mayet Kadir, Shahzade Munir Kadir, Lady Zarai Lesdeman, Lord Roman Ravenwood and Lord Leo Smithwood. Shehzadi Layla Kadir was also invited, but she chose not to go. The Princess returned here to collect Prince Callum, then they all met at the stable…The stable boy, Darryn, is now missing.”

“She…she went into the guest house to invite them,” Wulfric put two fingers to his brow, and massaged his temple. It was as close to a facepalm as he would allow in a public setting. Did Anastasia not care at all if this expedition of hers was widely known? “Right. Does anyone over there seem concerned over their absence at the moment?”

“The servants. The Sultan is fast asleep and we are unsure where the Vizier is.” She replied curtly.

Auguste, once more, was found pinching the ridge of his nose. Anastasia. He should have predicted that she would either coral or assist their guests to this party. Between Violet’s murder and this ‘party’, tomorrow will be a hell of a day. “Other than Darryn, are any of the other servants unaccounted?”

As the servant nodded her head horizontally, the sound of a sword slowly unsheathing filled the room. Someone dressed in armor was leaning in the doorway. The sword was resheathed once she felt she had their attention. Swiftly, she pulled off her helmet, a deadly look in the queen’s eyes as she set them on those before her. She lifted her chin and glared down at the servant. “Leave.” Alibeth gave a slight head jerk and Bernadette hastily walked out past her. “I will be taking some men,” Alibeth announced coolly. After a pause, she added, “Your father told me everything.”

“Your Majesty.” The formal address felt appropriate given his mother’s demeanor. “We can arrange matters here for a smooth return,” Wulfric offered.

Auguste followed suit. “Your Majesty.” The prince had scant seen his mother like this, but when he did, there was little he could do to mollify her fury. He wished a silent ‘good luck’ to his siblings. “We will assist as required, mother.”

”Good. Have our medic chamber ready,” Alibeth told them. “You’ll both remain here.” She set the helmet back on her head. Whatever was going on, she did not care. Her children were out in some warehouse and she wasn’t coming home until she found them and dragged them there. As for anyone in her way… Perhaps that’s what she needed the medic chamber for. She withdrew from her spot in the doorway and made her departure without another word.

“As you command, mother.” Auguste replied. He let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding as soon as she left his office. He looked to Wulfric, “Shall we have the doctors notified?”

On the other hand, a small, proud smile graced Wulfric’s lips as he watched the queen depart. Now that was the kind of presence and decisiveness a leader should strive to. If only…He shook his head once, and turned to Auguste. “Yes. I suggest we find whoever thought it was wise to remain silent on the Alidasht’s involvement. If the Sultan decides that this time, proper recompense is needed…” he trailed off darkly. He would gladly see however many other heads roll if it meant that Callum and Anastasia were to be spared.

“Yes, I agree. Thinking of the ramifications gives me a headache.” Auguste let off another tired sigh, “Tomorrow will be a hell of a day.”