---

---

Roman couldn’t help but give Munir a hearty laugh at his reasoning for a moment. Smiling but obviously thinking about what he said. His eyes glanced to Mayet for a moment then back to him. Looking down at the beaver Roman offered it to Munir. Turning for a moment to accept the praise from the huntress leading the event with a small bow before returning to Munir

“No friend no coin, you can have this as a favor. I give you my word that it will not put you or your family in a bad situation. I’m resourceful but sometimes I need help with things.”

Roman felt that it was a good proposition, a small favor for a beaver pelt was a good deal. Honestly there were several things from Alidasht that would be useful to his craft. The scorpion carapace would be fun to work with, to see how it could provide different colors, textures, and armor protectiveness. He would have to think about that one a bit more though, even some of the jungle wood is fun to work with and hard to get.

“Hey I would like to invite the two of you to something. Tonight is-“

He was cut off by a growl behind him and a panicked reaction from Munir’s horse. It was familiar like a ghost from his home. In just moments he realized what could have made that sound. Dropping the beaver to turn with his spear towards the noise he was met with something he did not expect. A large brown bear swiping the huntress to the side with little effort.

The beast charged at them with little abandon for its own sake. Bears like these were strong, powerful hunters that had the stamina and speed to run down even a horse if it wanted to. But they have poor vision and sometimes it can be hard for it to turn or stop while it runs. Roman not hesitating for a second charged at the bear.

“Flank it!”

He shouted without seeing what the others would do. Someone seemed quick on the draw and put several arrows towards the bear before he met with it. Both of their steps pushing them closer to each other his hunting spear gripped tightly in his arm the shimmer of the spears polished broad head glimmered in the sunlight. With a mighty thrust he did two things, first the spear would be aimed for its barrel chest at an angle where the other end of the spear might catch the ground and shove the spear further into the bear. The other was to dive to the side and away from the bear using his forward momentum to roll out of its reach. If he was able to roll out of the way he would draw one of his knives and his axe.

---

Nala had just finished gulping down the beaver's heart that Roman gave her and was still licking the blood from her lips when Hannah, the game warden from before, approached them, mentioning that they seemed to have better results than the other nobles. Mayet was surprised when Hannah mentioned that she had watched her and Nala's hunt. Especially since Mayet didn't feel her presence as she was hunting the bunny. Maybe Hannah was a better huntress than Mayet had initially given her credit for...
Either that or Mayet got a little bit too excited when hunting, despite her prey's small size due to the time both her and Nala spent without exercising themselves properly... Regardless of what it was, Hannah's praise was well received by Mayet, who let out a smile as she looked to Hannah before replying.

"You are more than welcome to join us on future hunts, if you wish to see more. After all, this little one was only a small appetizer." Mayet replied to Hannah with a mischievous grin as she gave another glance towards the poor bunny, before offering it to Hannah.

Roman and Munir seemed to be understanding each other a little better too after they cleared the misunderstanding that was previously going on between them. Roman even offered to give the pelt from the beaver he had just hunted to Munir as a favor, instead of selling it to him.

"Don't take my dear brother's sharp tongue to heart, Roman. Most of the times, he does mean well." Mayet said with a chuckle as she watched both of them talking.

Soon after Hannah finished complimenting them, Hannah gave a few words to the hunters, marking the end of the event.
Just as they began following Hannah towards the entrance of the forest and just as Roman began talking, intending to invite them for something this night, they all were interrupted due to loud growl coming from behind them. While many nobles would undoubtedly be struck with fear as they met face to face with the responsible for such a mighty growl, an enormous grizzly bear, especially as it charged towards them, Mayet's eyes were lit with excitement upon meeting a prey that would offer her more adrenaline than a mere rabbit... That was until it struck Hannah with it's claws, knocking her out and wounding her in the process. The moment Mayet saw that, her expression immediately changed from excitement to a serious one as she looked to the other nobles, who were starting to run away.

"If you don't want to face my wrath when this all is over, you'd better to turn back at once, take Hannah somewhere safe and get help for her instead of running away like cowards!" Mayet shouted, barking orders to the other hunter nobles with sharp eyes, before she turned her attention towards the bear again.

"It seems the hunt isn't over yet, Nala." she said, not being able to hide the excitement on her voice as she nodded towards Nala, who had already began running towards the bear after hearing Munir's command. By the moment Munir's arrows hit the bear and Roman's spear pierced it's chest, Nala had already pounced at the bear's back, firmly gripping it's hide with her claws as she bit into the back of it's neck, trying to pierce through both the thick layer of fat, the fur and the hide to break it's spine.

Mayet rushed towards the bear with her ring blade in hand as she threw two small chakrams at the bear's face. While Mayet knew the chakrams wouldn't do much in terms of damage against a beast of that size, it would most likely be enough to divert it's attention for a brief second. Enough for Mayet to dash towards it, appearing just behind Roman as he rolled away from the bear. Using all her momentum and the weight of her ring blade, Mayet delivered a mighty vertical slash, starting at the bear's upper right chest and going all the way to the base of it's stomach before she rolled away in the opposite direction Roman did, using the momentum from her slash before swiftly getting up and dashing away from the bear, keeping a safe distance between her and the bear, waiting for a chance for another attack.

From what Leo described, it seemed like Mina had a heat stroke. Quite serious one if she was actually convulsing while unconscious. John didn't think an execution could have caused the kind of heat that would cause someone to go into that state, even with the barbaric method of burning, though he never know for sure.

"No no, it's completely understandable." John replied to Leo with a hand wave, his head leaned slightly left. "We too are aware what happened, and are on alert." Is it possible that Mina was drugged? He couldn't leave it out, but chances are probably not high. He couldn't know for sure unless he had an actual look, but nevertheless appreciated Leo's help with narrowing things down for him.

"Good day to you too, Lord Smithwood." He smiled back before turning back to Mina, who he was still quite concerned considering her headaches. "Let's get you back." John called for a carriage back. He'd normally let people walk back to clear out their mind, but this is heat-related exhaustion, and very little shades were around for them to take advantage of. Not to mention she also had that outfit, which was rather concealing. Speaking of that.

"It's quite a warm attire, is there anything you can take off?" He asked Mina, handing her a handkerchief from a bag he had, containing other various medical tools. "For if you're sweating." He was still under the assumption that Mina had a heatstroke. The carriage would arrive shortly after.

---

"...I beg your pardon?"

“Have you considered the possibility of magic?” The count said casually, as if he asked Lady Vikena if she considered trying osmanthus infused in green tea. An exotic blend by Northern Kingdom standards, but nothing harmful and completely normal in other parts of the world. Adventurous suggestion at best, had it not been about magic.

“I, umm…”

She had watched the Count perform the card trick, revealing the blank card. That had not been startling. She had seen such a feat many times before. But Count Fritz had been clear he was alluding to a different type of magic. At first, she had pondered what that could possibly mean, but deep down she knew: He was alluding to the magic she read about in stories. The card trick was simply to allude to the idea that things are not as they seem.

The type of magic that had a character pursued by a mob of frightened zealots. A story usually ending with the individual burning at the stake for their witchcraft. Such is all fiction and wives' tales surely. The thought had crossed her mind but not her heart nor her gut. Her gaze fell on Thea as she had reacted to the card trick but seemingly missed what else Count Fritz had said. Charlotte found this odd as she had noticed Thea had been paying attention. She rose to hug her friend and bid her adieu.

He bid the young Lady farewell and gave her one of the chocolates as a parting gift. His unwavering smile hid the sliver of wariness he felt from her abrupt departure. While she was quick to come to his defense concerning the card trick—demonstrating the kind-hearted soul she possessed—, the interest that flashed across her face when he mentioned the party and real magic also could not be ignored.

After Lady Smithwood left, △△△ redirected his smile to Delilah, “What card game would you like to play, Miss Delilah?” He leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially, “If I were you, I’d choose something I’m good at because… these chocolates?” He closed his eyes as he kissed his pinched fingers and tossed them away from his lips. “Worth every coin.”

“Oh I absolutely adore chocolates and you! Both just the sweetest.” Delilah had responded to him with a flirtatious giggle, her hands clasping together. She clearly wasn’t the best at whispering. Charlotte had tilted her head and gave her a questioning look, to which Delilah simply winked in reaction. “...My Lottie and I love Liar, Liar. Don’t worry, it’s very simple if you never played! So! We go around in a circle placing cards in chronological order. If my turn was first, I would be tasked to place down whatever twos I have if any. If I don’t have any, then I must place down any amount of cards and lie. The other players can then call out, ‘liar, liar’ if they think I am lying. Then if Lottie was next, she’d be tasked to place down any threes she has. If the person you call a liar, is not lying, then you must take all the cards that are placed down and add them to your hand. The first person to get rid of all the cards wins.”

The count played back the maid’s gesture. He clasped his hands. “Oh, that does sound fun! Let’s play that.” Then he winked just as she did to her mistress, “And I will be a gentleman and not ask why you chose this game, Miss Delilah.” △△△ quickly shuffled the cards and distributed the cards accordingly. “Shall we say one chocolate per game?”

Charlotte had fallen back into her thoughts as Delilah explained the card game. After she had finished and a silence followed, she looked up at Count Fritz, too determined to drop the subject. “You are suggesting witchcraft as a possible reason behind their memory loss… But just as there’s logic behind the illusion of a card trick. Certainly, there could be a reason wedo not understand yet. ”

“I agree. There may even be multiple reasons, too.” △△△ said without missing a beat as he gathered his cards and looked at what he got. “Without proper investigation, everything I say is mere conjecture. However…” He rearranged the cards in his hands. “I must ask, Lady Charlotte. Why is it illogical to think that…” the word witchcraft was halfway up his throat before it transformed into another synonym, “magic is involved in a world where magic exists?”

“Well…Simply put… I don’t know if it exists… Do you?” Charlotte responded. She paused as if focusing on something before she continued. Something felt nostalgic about this whole discussion. However, Charlotte did not want to offend her new friend, so she further explained to perhaps help him empathize with her stance. “I was raised under the notion that magic was the subject of fairytales. It was never mentioned in schooling as something that existed either. Given that I have no proof nor knowledge of its presence in our reality, I am a little more keen towards-”

“If I may, perhaps everyone drank too much.” Delilah interrupted rather hastily, which was noted by Charlotte. She glanced over at the maid inquisitively. Her gaze briefly loomed over her foot slightly tapping against the carpet. “Duke Vikena has made the mistake before and young people sometimes overdo it at parties.”

Charlotte was hesitant. She took a moment before she asked Count Fritz, “Do you know any of whom attended the party?”

△△△’s eyes remained on his cards as a wry smile threatened to take over his more polite one.

The fire consumed everything without mercy. Nothing remained of the fields. Homes reduced to ash, charcoal, and stone. The pile of people, now one massive charred lump, fed the flames. In the middle of the pyre was the witch, her face unrecognizable. The boy knew who she was, however, no matter how disfigured she became. He knew because no other person could conceivably be the showpiece of such a gruesome display.

If magic was just a fairytale, what a cruel world they lived in. This place where so-called witches died for something that did not exist and where his family’s stories were no more credible than the ravings of a madman. Did they really waste lives, time, and effort for absolutely nothing?

“I always thought how fascinating it is that it is illegal—... forbidden? To practice something that doesn’t exist. Do you think the law can charge imaginary friends with a crime?... I would’ve gotten away with so much as a child if it did.”

Charlotte wondered if it was a law in Varian to not produce magic. She had read the laws of Caesonia more than once and she did not recall any mention of magic. But there had been rumors. Magic had always been a no-no word and there were whispers of it being forbidden. Even in jest, people had always seemed to become uncomfortable with the subject. She had always been uncertain if everyone had been superstitious or if it was something that really existed. Her lack of trust in those around her had perhaps led her to lean one way. However, Count Fritz seemed convinced.

△△△ set his card deck, face-down, on the table. “Who would like to go first?” He exchanged looks with the two women a few times before settling on Lady Vikena to answer her question, “A few. I believe you know one of them too. Lord Smithwood?”

“Me first!”Delilah volunteered with a grin, “I have… two twos.” She confidently placed two cards face-down on the table from her hand of cards.

“ Yes… I do. It doesn’t seem like him to drink himself to that point. I’m flabbergasted to hear such.” Charlotte felt concerned for her dear friend and she frowned. ”I do have plans to meet with him later today so I will have the opportunity to ask him about it.” She then placed down a single card, “Um, one three.”

“Liar, liar!”

Charlotte sighed and scooped up the three cards on the table into her hand with the rest of hers. Delilah had also been clearly lying as she had a five and a ten.

Despite this, the count let it slide and deposited his own cards without checking it beforehand. During the first few rounds of the game, instead of calling Lady Vikena or Delilah out on their bluff, △△△ opted to watch for their tells, how they behaved after they got away with it, and how they behaved when they suspected someone else was lying. Games requiring deceit were an efficient and entertaining way of studying body language.

It was why Delilah’s subtle discomfort felt out of place. Her interjection when Lady Vikena was a breath away from offering her opinion on magic did not go unnoticed by △△△ or Her Ladyship. The question was why she had done that. Both women more or less responded to the subject about magic with the same level of skepticism and unease he came to expect from the average Caesonian. They tolerated discussing the taboo topic, but the extent to which they were willing to discuss the matter differed between the maid and her mistress. If anything, it seemed like Lady Vikena’s healthy dose of skepticism stemmed from interest rather than fear or abhorrence—with sufficient evidence she may change her stance. Delilah, on the other hand, preferred the “addict doing what drunk people do” narrative than having Lady Vikena continue to talk about magic.

△△△ glanced over at Delilah. Now that the conversation about magic’s involvement and the mystery of the duke’s disappearance was effectively swept under the rug, the tenseness left her muscles. He kept his eyes locked on her as he addressed another elephant in the room.

“Lady Charlotte, with how hectic things were, maybe you haven’t had the chance to think about it, but have you decided on what course of action to take for your investigation?” He avoided saying ‘about your mother’ in Delilah’s presence.

Charlotte had been rather distracted over the duration of the game. She had seemed hesitant; as if her mind was elsewhere no matter if she had been lying nor telling the truth. This made her quite the decent player without her attempting to be. Delilah, on the other hand, was a terrible liar. She would giggle like a child with a lollipop behind her back for every lie and struggle to hold back her smirk as the corner of her lips twitched.

For the first time in a while, Charlotte had come back to earth as she heard the question that had been posed. She glanced at Count Fritz and gave him her full attention. Her gaze was more intense than usual as she proclaimed calmly, “First I plan to gather a list of everyone that attended the party and talk to as many as I can. I presume even though they have forgotten the party, they may remember the details leading up to it…Then… I think I will find the location of the party as well as its host. Somehow I will.”

“Lottie!”Delilah’s voice was a little shrill as she looked at her, “Whoever hosted such a thing could be a maniac. Much too dangerous!”

Charlotte looked upon the pretty blonde maid and smiled sadly, “Oh how you sound like my mother...” Her gaze subsequently narrowed and she clutched her knees. From Caesonia’s darling to a forgotten member of the forsaken Vikena family, Charlotte had walked on both sides of the road. For the last few years of her life, she had been a wallflower, forced to observe. For the sake of those she cared about, she needed to push off that wall. “I will find out what happened to my mother, what happened to Lorenzo , and what’s going on with this party. And I will do whatever it takes to do so.” The determined expression on her face seemed to upset Delilah.

Her mind wandered back to the man who had threatened her at the park. That was proof there was so much more to what was happening. But if she mentioned that now, Delilah would double down on worrying for her safety. “Whatever I do, I will be careful.”

The maid did not look eased. She set down her cards.

At first, △△△ thought Lady Vikena was speaking about the ball rumored to have lead to her mother’s demise. Then he realized she was referring to his earlier comment about the magical afterparty and the odds of the duke taking part in it. Even though she made it clear how skeptical she was about magic and how much she wanted to trust her father’s words, Lady Vikena decided to look into it. At that moment, △△△ could not help but admire her bravery in seeking the truth.

He nodded his approval of Lady Vikena’s plan. With no other clue to follow—not ones he could share—, they had to start somewhere and a list of attendees was as good a start as any. He turned to the first available person who might have known about the party. “Miss Delilah,” the tenseness returned to the maid’s muscles, “were you aware of this other party?” The count reached for a chocolate and handed it over to the maid. He had a feeling that they would not be finishing this card game any time soon and, if that were to be the case, he refused to let Delilah leave without something nice to have for herself. Especially since this seemed to be a topic she wished to be no part of. “Do you know who could’ve been invited?”

“No, no. I didn’t know there was one.”Delilah said and turned her attention to the chocolate eagerly. She did not seem to be lying or phased by the question. There was a gleam in her eye as she delicately placed it on her tongue. “Mmm…”

After a moment she glanced Charlotte’s way. “I am going to go check on Duke Vikena, and see if he wants anything. He has that horse race to host soon if you recall… You two have fun.” She smiled as she stood up and looked at Count Fritz, “Oh, and thanks for the chocolate honey. “ She gave him a wink and mouthed to Charlotte before taking her leave, “If you don’t take him I will.”

After a pause, Charlotte looked to Count Fritz once she was sure Delilah was gone. “There was something else… But it may sound crazy.” She proceeded to then lowly tell him about the man from the park who had tried to push her away from investigating further with a threat. She also informed him that she had not been able to see his appearance.

△△△ smiled, offering the other chocolate to Lady Vikena. “If it helps, I’m the oddball who believes in magic. I’m used to ‘sounding crazy’.” As she told him about her encounter with a mysterious man, △△△ closed his eyes, taking it all in. Evidently, they had been followed or watched through other means. Since when?

“This sounds more like someone feels threatened by you, Lady Charlotte. If they’re trying to deter you from investigating before you even really started, I think they believe you to be a liability. And from what I gathered so far, it’s a very short list of people who might think that.” His head turned towards the window facing Damien’s estate.

“The world is filled with unknowns. Your beliefs do not mean you are crazy… As for the latter statement, I do agree. That was the feeling I had.” Her gaze followed his to the window.

The mysterious man may not be working directly for Count Damien, but it seemed improbable that the earl of Montauppe played absolutely no part in the strange occurrences involving the Vikenas. It would explain why Count ◆◆◆◆◆’s name came out of the blue. Unless…

On the castle wall, two figures faced the direction of the ocean. The sky blessed them with a sunny day. Yet, the wind felt bitter, sending chills down △△△’s spine. “The time’s come,” Udo said in his native tongue, “for our rivers to part ways.”

△△△’s hands grabbed his upper arms to shield himself from the absent cold.

Stratya had been trying her hand at a festival game, just some small game of skill, when she heard something. It sounded different from the din surrounding her. If you payed attention to it, it definitely stood out. It sounded like a bit of shouting and maybe glass? That was never good. Even worse was the timing, with all the foreign nobility around. Although, all the foreign parties about may have had something to do with whatever was transpiring. It was too early to say.

The soft 'pop's were the last straw. Those were gunshots. So much for the festivities, there was work to be done. The Caesonian Knight tossed her remaining rings with a single flip of her wrist before making her exit. By the time she reached the bazaar, however, it would have seemed the commotion had passed. She looked around briefly, spotting a guard at his post and approaching. "Ho, guardsm'n. You 'eard all 'at ruckus? What's it on about, eh? Repor' for me."

She listened as the guard described shouting and glass breaking, and finally the three gunshots. "Aaah, though' so. The rest o' yer post is after it, then? Good man, keepin' ya post. Can't everyone go to th' chase." She pat the man on the shoulder as she moved in the direction he indicated, toward the guards she saw pouring out from an alleyway, looking determined. She'd have to get another report from someone involved in the incident.

Horsemen were arriving, as she approached the scene. The next report informed her of the fire exchange. Interesting. "Awright, I wan' eyes on Eden and Flora, Flora and Wickah, and sout o' the library. Anyone 'o knows 'o it is you're lookin' for, get a ride over there. Horsemen, take 'em, and then patrol th' streets. Take wor' to the ware'ouses, make sure they watch the road to th' mines. The rest of ye, search the alleys. They can't have gone far..."

Herself, she followed the trail back the way it came, back to the gunshots in the ground. She wanted a better picture of what had happened.

Location: Forest
Time: 12:00 pm

---

The bear roared indignantly when an arrow struck its shoulder. The second one missed, because the bear had lowered itself down onto the ground. The next one struck its other shoulder and caused it more agony. Blood oozed from both wounds, while foam continued to froth from its mouth. The bear turned to Munir and roared once more and began charging at him, intent on ripping him to shreds. There was nothing but rage and murder in the bear’s eyes, and it was relentless.

In the bear’s peripheral vision, it saw Roman, but was slow to turn and face him. It swiped at Munir as if he was a log drifting in the river with ferocity, then rounded on Roman. The spear punctured the bear’s chest, but did not let it stop it from attacking. It charged at Roman and attempted to bite into his leg and crush it with a powerful bite. The bear did not look for the other hunters and instead focused solely on the three nobles.

Sharp, powerful jaws gripped the bear’s neck before it could make another move. It roared and thrashed wildly as it struggled to unhinge the tiger from its back. The bear roared again vehemently, and attempted to strike the tigers’ flank with bloody and sharp claws. The tigress attack was successful in diverting the beast’s attention and was quickly slashed by Mayet, causing it further rage and strengthening its desire to murder them all. It finally threw off Nala with a great thrust and growled as it lowered onto all fours. The bear’s spine was dislodged, and therefore it could no longer stand on its back legs. It charged one last time with a mighty roar at Nala, designating her as the biggest threat.

Yosri Dali Kadir

Time:12:00
Location: :Festival at the park
mentions: @Lava Alckon @Tae

---

He smiled at her as she blessed his mother. Small words with good intentions mattered most to him. Years apart had not changed the pure nature of her heart. It had preserved beautifully and perhaps was even polished by the hardships she endured.

"you know me habibi. I always bring spice to wherever I arrive" he gave her a wink. Dali always felt like the wind,the element of freedom. He tried to live his life as free from worry as possible. Helping others to be as free of trouble as he sometimes wished to be.

So it was not often he felt worried,let alone show it. However, the sounds he heard got him worried. He had barely arrived and it seemed things were already going sour. The distant bangs froze him in his movement, reliving for the slightest of moments that fatefull day of his childhood. A high pitched tune seemed to take over his ears as they began to ring.

”Perhaps food should wait and we should find your kin. Make sure they weren’t involved in whatever is currently happening with that racket.” her voice was the anchor back into reality he needed. He wiped the worried look off his face and suppressed the urge to walk away inmedialty. He smiled, he always did. Last thing Saiye would need was to see him worried. It would worry her and that is the last thing he wished for.

"yes we should. Just to be sure" he kept that smile of his up. How could he worry her. How could he say he felt as if death was hanging around them. His intuition was usually spot on, but not when confronted by the one thing that could really drive him away. Loud bangs, even heard from a distance, could still cause him to sway.
"Inshallas habibi, are you afraid I cannot protect you" he decided to go on in a more cheerful tune. "do you need both brothers to defend you. Just like when we were little" he did start to move. Walking around the festival in search of more colourful company than the people around them.

"perhaps I should detonate something. My brother would jump on a carpet and come flying down to us in a second,just to scold me" he joked,distracting himself.

And just then he felt the wind change. The direction blowing his gaze towards a colourfull gathering to the side of them. He did not even see the rest of his cousins. Would they even recognise them after years of not seeing one another. He knew he didn't recognise most of them,though he was sure they had met somewhere before.

"Inshalla, brother!" he exclaimed excited as the wind pushed on. It had done its job for today.

Interaction: Mayet @13org Roman @ReusableSword

Munir's tumble gave him some distance between him and the feral beast. His arrows, being the first to be fired off, found their target. Most of them anyways. One that was aimed dead center of the bear missed, much to Munir's annoyance. The two arrows that struck were not clean, nor were they killshots. They seemed to have only acted to further provoke and infuriate the beast as it now charged at him with ferocity.


"Tsk" Munir mouthed in annoyance as he tumbled backwards several times to narrowly avoid the bear's paw strikes. The two arrow he nocked previously were snapped in the process of his tumbling and dodging. As he was gaining space, he noticed that the other two nobles, his sister Mayet and Roman both attacked the bear, who in turn focused it's attention at whoever was attacking it. Each member dealt what could have been the killshot to the bear but it persisted. Munir watched as Nala tore a hole in the neck of the bear, dislodging it's spine in ht process. Munir smirked and shook his head once at the brutal nature of the world. Exhaling, Munir fired off another volley of arrows as the bear charged at Nala. Munir fully understands that Nala is agile enough to move out of the crazed bear's away so he was not shooting to defend the tigress. He was shooting to hopefully end this madness...

Time:12pm
Location: Park of Sorian
Attire:Dress
Interaction:@Lava Alckon Farim @Rodiak Nahir @Potter Layla @Tae Saiya @Ojo chan 42 Dali @mantou Wystan

---

Anastasia had excitedly applauded Farim's win. "Oh this is amazing! We are so lucky today!" She waved her little bear in the air victoriously.

Soon after that, she found herself surprised when Farim decided to give her a gift over his family. She understood the situation a little better after the wink. After a split second hesitation, she grinned at him, "Oh my goodness! It's so cute and soft! Thank you soo much." She accepted the bear and hugged both bears to her. As his attention had been caught, she moved up to him and used the bear's face to kiss his cheek. "Mwah! Just for you." Her gaze subsequently followed his toward the southern end of the park. There was some distant yelling. As she focused on it, she pursed her lips at the sudden noise of gunshots. She recognized them off the bat. Part of her was curious to go find out what was going on.

"Anastasia...I hope everything is okay? Is that something we should be worried about, my friend?"

Something strange was certainly occurring but she did consider that perhaps it was something down in the slums. It was not out of the realm to have some trouble brewing there once in a while. She decided to not delve into it and worry the Alidasht more than they already were. Her eyes met his as she felt the warmth of his hands on hers. She returned his smile, "You're so sweet... I will treasure my new friends close to my heart."

”Want a turn after Nahir, love?”

Anastasia glanced at Layla and grinned at her, "You know it, darling! We should play until everyone has a prize."

Two new figures began to approach at that moment and Farim seemed to recognize them. From their garb, it was quite obvious they were also from the Alidasht. I'm happy he can get the family time he was yearning for. Anastasia watched with a smile as he greeted the two. They were also extraordinarily good-looking. She wondered if everyone had great genetics in the Alidasht as she offered the newcomers a friendly smile and wave. "Hi!"

As the group did thicken, she did find herself feeling a little out of place. Anastasia debated stepping away to give them some family time. The least she could do was give them at least a moment together. Her mind wandered to Wystan and the other guards. Maybe she could take a few minutes to bring them some food. There was no way they'd take their eyes off her to get it for themselves.

"Everyone! I will return in a few minutes. I want to make sure my guards get something to eat!"

---

---

Crystal curtsied towards the eldest prince and slowly backed up towards prince Auguste unknowingly. Distracted with herself as she thought that the previous talk went well. Proud of herself for not making a fool of herself.

She was sure nothing would probably come from it. He seemed polite and Courteous but she still couldn’t help but feel something was… off.
Auguste had just escorted a noble to the exit before he began walking back to his table. He raised his eyebrows as Crystal almost crashed into him. He gently grasped her shoulders and held her aloft. “Lady Crystal, are you alright?” He said with a smile, it seemed that she was a tad ditzy.
Crystal tensed up, her hands instantly covered her mouth to cover the shriek that caught in her throat and didn’t escape. Her eyes wide and her face as red as crimson. She slowly turned around and looked up to see Prince Auguste smiling down at her. Her heart fluttered as she stood in shock. Fear, and embarrassment crept up that turned into anger at herself for making a fool of herself once again.
She attempted a few times to reply, her voice seemingly getting stuck each time in her throat. She shook her head. “P-Prince Auguste! I-I’m quite alright!” She was a little confused at first why he was asking that. She glanced down and realized she was going to bump into him, by the way the chairs were positioned. “Yes! No.., perhaps a little.” She took a breath and turned around completely. Her face still as red as before. “Perhaps a touch overwhelmed at the moment,with all this.” she said with a nervous smile. Motioning the entire room slightly with her hand.
“Accept my apologies, I didn’t mean to give you such a scare.” Auguste apologized, realizing that it wasn’t polite to surprise people like that. “Assuming this is your first time at this sort of event, I can’t blame you. You can come to my table, I’ll have them bring some water if you’d like?” He offered. Judging by the timing, he could converse with one more woman before the event is to close. “Ah, it’s alright if you do not want to, it is no issue.”
She blinked and listened to him. Her head lowered a little with a nod when he offered the water, but froze when he said his table. She glanced to the side to see the line of ladies still wanting their moment with him. She could see many not happy that she essentially cut in line. She would feel guilty… but he did offer. She looked back at him and nervously smiled. “O-of course! A glass of water sounds wonderful. Thank you, your highness. A-and please do not worry about scaring me…It was not your intention.” She didn't know if she heard scoffs in her head or from the ladies who were waiting. Crystal cleared her throat and ran a finger over her left ear, tucking a few strands of hair behind it.
“You can just call me Auguste if you wish,” Auguste said with a playful wink as they made their way back into the table. He whispered the request for water from one of the maids. He pulled the chair opposite of his own outwards, beckoning her to sit.
Her shade of red deepened when he offered to just call him Auguste and gave her a wink. She looked down with a smile but it was more to not look him in the eyes. She felt her heart pound a little more. She followed silently to the seat before saying softly. “Thank you…I'll try your h- Imean- Auguste…”

Oh dear…she wanted to shrivel up and die. She sat down and wrung her hands in her lap for a moment, as he moved to his own seat. She tried to calm herself down. She also tried frantically to figure out what to say to him, while the time waiting for him to sit and look back at her seemed to take forever. It at the same time seemed to be not enough time to think. “S-so besides being a charming prince…and s-scaring ladies, what do you like to do?” WHAT DID SHE DO. She groaned inwardly at her stupid attempt at a joke.
“Scaring ladies… well that's not a skill I'd like to cultivate,” Auguste chuckled. She still seemed a bit hurried and frantic, his attempts of levity seemed to have failed. “Well, I am a bit enamored with the blade, er I am sure you already knew that, seems like I am known as a sword fanatic locally. I plan on attending the dueling competition later in the day. If I am able. Many skilled swordsmen will be present, it will be an interesting event.”
“What about you, Lady Crystal? I do hope you're enjoying yourself in this event, I know how it can be a bit stifling and overwhelming at times.” Auguste broke eye contact with Crystal and smiled at the maid who placed a glass of cool water in-front of Crystal. “Thank you, Steritta.” The stern looking red-haired maid bowed and left.
Crystal sighed softly, at least he chuckled. She managed to keep her eyes up on him as he began with the basics. It was true, Everyone knew he was a sword fanatic. She had heard many times of his victories in duels. She nodded and blinked when he turned the question on her. She didn’t really learn anything.

Auguste nodded as he listened. It seemed that she wasn’t entirely satisfied with his short blurb regarding his love for swordsmanship. He cleared his throat and elaborated a tiny bit more. “Swordsmanship… It's freeing. The repetitive and rigorous training. The thrill of improving yourself and combating others. My worries, responsibilities, and even my titles seem to melt away in those moments. To be unshackled from my worries for a momen-” His eyes widened slightly, he scratched his cheek “Er- don’t tell Wulfric I said that, alright?”
“Oh..well I…” She paused as the maid Steritta placed the glass in front of her. She smiled and echoed“Thank you.” towards her. She blinked a few times seeing her stern look. Were all redheads always stern looking? She glanced over to see if she could see Liah, but couldn’t. She looked back to Auguste and took the water into her hands but did not drink as he then decided to add onto his first answer. She could see why it was such a focus in his life as he expounded upon it. She did smile when he asked her not to tell Wulfric. She nodded a few times. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”
She continued, “T-to answer your question, despite making a fool of myself more times than I can count, I really am enjoying my time here. It has been a dream come true.” She took a tiny sip of her water and sighed once again.
“I hope I get the chance to go myself actually. It will be interesting to see first hand, I have only seen one duel at a tournament in my life when I was really young.” It would be fascinating to see how a real sword fight would look…it would only help her writing more.

“Ah mingling in-and-around nobility,” Auguste said. “A difficult skill to learn and improve, certainly. Don’t worry too much, I’ve made a much bigger fool of myself. You may be better than me when I’d started going around political courts.”
“It’ll be good to see you there, Lady Crystal. I hope my skills live up to the rumours.” Auguste continued, “Perhaps I may be able to bear witness to Varian swordsmanship. I’ve heard tales of Sir Matthias' skill, to cross blades with him would be a pleasure.”
“Ah but enough of my personal musings.” Auguste locked eyes with her again, “It is truly good to see you out and about. While we’ve talked about this ball, I do hope that the planned events of the Caesonian met your expectations.”
“Aside from my swordsmanship, what else have you heard about me?” Auguste asked out of the blue. “Good things, I hope.” He joked, letting out another chuckle. The Prince was truly curious about his reputation and rumours that floated about. A hard thing to gauge, and dear Wystan wassn’t exactly an impartial observer.

“You’re being too kind…” she said softly with a smile when he said she might be better than him when he started. She doubted she would be but she kept it to herself.
He went on to hope he would live up to the rumors. She was surprised at his humbleness, but even more so when he brought up Sir Matthais. She didn’t know he was skilled enough to gain the attention of the prince, two princes in fact, thinking back to Wulfric bringing him up as well. She wondered who she would win between the three…but then she thought of Liah. She was the most skilled swordswoman in her fathers employ. What would happen if she joined the event as well? She pushed the thought to the side for now as she simply nodded to a when he hoped the events met her expectations. As he didn’t give her much time before continuing.
She blinked a few times when he then went on to ask what else she knew of him. Her mind went blank for a moment as she was put on the spot. She scratched her cheek. “Hmmm. Only that you are most popular with the common people due to your charm and how you treat and mingle with the common soldiers and knights. As well as how you treat those who serve you…” motioning with a tiny nod to the side towards his maid.“It’s refreshing to see…”
Auguste let out a legitimate sigh of relief. “That is good to hear, truly.” To hear that he was not as hated as he thought he was amongst the populace allowed him to indulge, atleast a little bit, in the sin of pride. Hopefully he would be able to fix the reputation of his family in his lifetime, but he would understand if they never forgave the Danroses.
Noticing how he’d made the conversation all about him, he was curious about Crystal though it would be hard to broach the subject considering how much her family had stowed her away. It also seemed like the lady held back alot of her thoughts. “... Do you have any questions for me, Lady Crystal? Feel free to ask,” he reaffirmed his smile. “... Or would you rather speak about the festivities?”
Crystal had taken a longer sip of her water, her blue eyes flicking from the cup to the prince before her. She noticed the hesitation as he looked at her… then his next questions caused her to pause and lower her drink. Tilting her head to the side for a moment. “Maybe.” She said softly. First she wanted to fix something she overlooked in her fluster. “I-If I am to call you Auguste… then please just call me Crystal.” She said with a warmer smile.

She decided to then turn the question on him. “Well since you asked what I've heard about you…it's only fair to hear what you’ve heard about me… Though…honestly it’s a shock still that both you and your elder brother knew me by name. Most only saw Violet and we did not look similar at all.”
“You certainly drive a hard bargain, Crystal,” Auguste acquiesced as he enunciated her name.
A pang of guilt reverberated within him as she mentioned Violet though he kept his expression from changing. Poor, poor Crystal, she will be devastated when she hears what’s happened to her sister. He cleared his throat before answering. “Your father, Count Damien, he is fairly… popular around the court. I am certain that the Danroses know of your existence… Many even believed you to be nothing more than a rumor. Of course, it is a pleasure to have met with the real thing.” Meeting with Crystal, it seemed that the apple may indeed fall from the tree.
Crystal noticed a twinge of something in the prince's eyes before he cleared his throat. She didn’t catch what it really was. After his answer she tilted her head to the side. “Mmmmhmm. As much as I am flattered by you having the pleasure to meet the real me. All you heard was I was a rumor to many, but your family knew I was real?”
“Indeed,” Auguste nodded. “Other than Count Damien closeness with my father… we wouldn’t be much of royalty if we were lacking in knowledge.”
Her attempt to pry more from him failed, but she held her smile.[color=1e4fff]“True…” She looked down at her water and thought for a moment. For him to know her by name in this crowd when they never met she assumed he might have known a bit more… He could have easily seen a resemblance of her mother which he surely met before. The tiny flame excitement of possibly, perhaps…a prince had looked into her, possibly interested in the mystery isolated noble girl held in a tower.

Silly little child…
As soon as that thought came across her mind she smiled more and played it off as if she was thinking of what to say next. “Well, besides soldiering and dueling and learning to be a ruler. What do you do to relax? I-I mean when you are too exhausted to work out that is…”
“Ballads and written work!” Auguste replied, as if just remembering. “I do enjoy good books and an awe-inspiring ballad in my free time, a personal indulgence, truly.”
“As for genre, hmm- I enjoy all manners of ballads and books but I seem to gravitate towards fantasy and, well, books surrounding knights. As cliche as that is.” Auguste chuckled, eyes sparkling as he spoke like a child regaling others. It really wasn’t often that he spoke of such lighthearted topics, even in this very event. Often it was words mired with agendas and hidden meanings, something he truly doesn’t enjoy about the politics of nobility. As such, he indulged.
“I really liked the ballad of the dashing rogue Robin Hood.” He continued, “But as for books, I would be hard-pressed to pick a favourite.”
Crystal smiled slightly, “There is nothing wrong with cliches. There is a reason why there are so many books focused around knights and fantastical stories… we all seek to be a part of it in some way, or try to emulate it in our own life.” Auguste nodded, agreeing with her assessment.
Odd as he was a knight and prince, he was living the story most strove to dive into. But maybe… It was also the reason he seemed different from his father, and elder brother.
“Robin hood is one of the classics. It is hard to find someone who doesn’t like it… unless you look at nobles. They tend to like to keep their riches. Do you- ” she stopped herself. It wasn’t appropriate to ask that. Those who look to that ballad tend to be seekers of injustice and outlaws of types in their own land. Did he see himself as one? Wanting to change the kingdom?
Realizing she left herself in an awkward position she continued “ Do you like romance novels if they are centered in fantasy?”
Auguste raised a brow at her hesitation. Perhaps she had something else to ask but he moved past it as he wasn’t one to pressure others if he could help it. “Romance novels with fantasy…” He paused and stroked his chin, “Certainly, while I prefer the focus to be fantasy, having romance in the background certainly adds depth to the story.”
“Not to say I haven’t read any romance novels not entirely rooted in fantasy. I enjoyed that popular book, what was it, ‘The Princess and her Unorthodox Prince.’ I could certainly see why it was enjoyed in the kingdom… and me, luckily, being nobility, I could somewhat ‘relate’ to the Princess and her struggles.”
Crystal nodded, it was what she expected from a man. ‘If it was in the background’. So she couldn’t fault him for it. It was better than no.
She did perk up when he brought up her book. A slight flush on her face realizing a prince read her works and ‘somewhat’ enjoyed it. As it was mostly focused on romance and the action was supporting the book it wasn’t a far leap. But it was still a win for her.
“I love that book! I feel like I've read it a thousand times.” She said with a genuine smile.” I feel you would enjoy the sequel “Shattered Oaths” more due to having more action and adventure than the first.”
She paused for a moment thinking how he would relate to the heroine more. “Do you have an unorthodox guard?” In a softly jesting tone.
Auguste smiled at her jubilance, it seemed that she enjoyed books. “I did know that there was a sequel. I will have to pick one up-” His eyes widened, slightly giving away his odd habit of dressing up as a commoner and going around the city. He cleared his throat, “Er- have it picked up for me. I enjoyed the first one alot, even if the swordfighting wasn’t the focus, it was thrilling. If it is more action-packed then I will likely enjoy ‘Shattered Oaths’.”
She tilted her head in slight confusion, wondering why he would hesitate and change his wording on picking up a book. Wouldn’t he be able to go and pick up a book if he wanted to? He could do anything he wanted essentially. She smiled and nodded again before he continued.
“Keep it a secret from others, but I’ve tried mimicking her guard and style. Even won a duel with it, certainly unorthodox, but that makes it hard to pin down in an actual duel.” The Prince had even incorporated some of the ideas into his own style. “But more to the point, the author had portrayed royalty well while not capturing the entire nuance, it was written through the lens of someone in the know. It wouldn’t surprise me if the writer was of nobility!”
She was confused for a moment. His answer wasn’t at all what she meant. Wondering if he had a female guard who was his unorthodox princess. She held in a giggle, but was surprised he had used some of her techniques she used for the princess in her book. Not totally surprised as she copied text books on fencing from the Varians style, and mixed it with liah’s style. Asking her to show how it would work so crysta could write it out. “I meant… if you had an unorthodox princess…” she said with a smirk, “but that is impressive! I heard Violet Columbine researches all topics to be as authentic as she can. Perhaps she is a duelist as well?”
“Ah that’s what you mean, my apologies.” He replied, “I certainly do have an unorthodox guard, dear Wystan is unorthodox, atleast thats what many others have told me in privy. I always rebuff them, however, Wystan is as reliable as the Knight-Captain being a guard if you ask me.”
He nodded as he said the following words, “It does seem like Violet Columbine is, at the very least, versed in dueling and swordfigthting.”
When he brought up the writer being apart of the nobility she fiddled with her thumbs in her lap. “Hmmm perhaps. Or perhaps they gained their knowledge of how the court works through books which could explain why they didn’t quite capture it?” She blinked… as it was what she did, that and asking her parents for insight.
“That makes sense.” Auguste said, “At times it does feel like a second hand account, as some parts are well detailed while others are more sparse.”
“But it seems that you enjoy literary work, do you have any books you would recommend?” Auguste asked earnestly.
“I do enjoy reading, it helped me explore the world while being stuck in my bed. My theater says he is sure we have the second biggest private library in the kingdom to sate my appetite.” She said fondly. “I recommend all of the Violet Columbine books personally.” She said a little selfishly. As she had to advertise her own books.
“‘The Thirteenth sword” by William Ferrigan might be a great book for you. He was a duelist in the Varian kingdom a hundred years ago who used his experiences to write a book.”
Auguste made mental notes of the authors' names and books. “I will give Violet Columbine another look then and read William Ferrigan’s works. A real-life account of a duelist from a century’s past is a must read for me.”
A butler whispered something into Auguste’s ears. “Ah it seems that we’ve ran out of time.” The Prince eyed Callum walking in the direction of Wulfric’s office.
“I am sorry to run out like this on you.” He said with an apologetic face, “I would very much like to continue our conversation about literary works another time.”
“Would you like me to escort you out of the palace?” Auguste offered with a smile.
She smiled when he confirmed he would look into her recommendations. She looked to the butler as he whispered into the prince’s ear. Taking a final drink of her water and setting it on the table between them. She looked back to him as he spoke up again. She smiled as he mentioned he would like to continue their conversation, and then offered to escort her out.
”You do not need to apologize, I understand. I would love to continue our conversation as well. I look forward to it already.” She stood up and looked towards the door, seeing her guards and then looking to Auguste once more. ”As much as I would love that, I don't want to keep you from your duties. ” She said with a small curtsy. ”I Hope we meet again soon to continue this conversation. ” She added before making her exit.

---

---

Once Callum entered Wulfric’s office, the latter looked up from scribbling something into a notebook. He appeared to have been about to say something – likely an invitation to come in, which the younger prince hadn’t bothered waiting for. An unimpressed look, and a pointedly arched eyebrow was the only response to his uninvited entry, however.

When asked whether he’d wanted to see his brother, Wulfric replied, “Yes, I did.” It was a simple, no-nonsense admission, one which entirely disregarded that Callum’s question had been sarcastic. But almost immediately afterwards, an expression of extreme annoyance flashed across his face. “The door?” he questioned indignantly, for it had been left open on purpose.

He stared at it for a moment, as if waiting for someone to close it. But because he rarely had someone on standby in or around his office, no one did. Frowning heavily, Wulfric produced a very audible, “Tsk.”

Before taking care of that, he first tidied his desk; capped his fountain pen, put it in an engraved wooden holder, used an ink blotter to dry off his recent writing, and stored his notebook into a drawer. As he did so, his expression smoothed out; perhaps, the small exercise was a meditative one for him. Just as possibly, he had decided he would not let himself be irritated that easily.

“What about the door?” Callum asked with mock confusion. He didn’t bother to move or go back and close the door. He only waited and stared up at the ceiling as his brother took his time organizing his desk. Fair enough; Cal had taken his time coming up here, he’d made Wulfric wait around for him first.

Wulfric stood up from his desk, languidly stretched, and ambled towards the doorway. Contrary to Callum’s assertion, he acted as if he could, in fact, spend the whole day there. “To not give the time of day to my darling little brother?” he acted mock surprised, and affected the obnoxious kind of sweetness for the term of endearment. “Perish the thought,” he then added dryly, and sent a smirk Callum’s way.

In the meanwhile, the youth had clearly more than made himself at home. That piercing blue-gray gaze scanned over the figure, and seemed to see all. Or, at least, that’s what his haughtily knowing countenance relayed at the moment. Then, Wulfric tilted his head, as if to consider the scene from a new angle. “All you need now is to start eating grapes to complete that image of hedonism,” he remarked idly. It was unclear if he was joking, trying to make a point, or something else. But there were actually refreshments on the coffee table set out.

Wulfric, who had decided to pass by his brother, trailed one hand along the length of the backrest Callum was lying against. Looking down upon him, he was very briefly tempted to roll him off the couch. Instead, however, he simply took ahold of his calves, and dropped his booted feet onto the floor. Then, he strolled the rest of the way to the still opened doors to close them.

Despite Callum’s attempts to provoke a reaction, Wulfric kept his detached demeanor and Cal took this as a good sign. If Wulfric was angry he’d expected his brother would’ve shown it by now, especially with the added provocation. So this probably wasn’t about the onion and Cal was almost certain there was nothing else he’d done between their last conversation and right now that could’ve caught Wulfric’s attention. Callum gnawed at his already chewed-up fingernails as he tried to figure out why he was there. But by the time Wulfric dropped Callum's feet from the couch to the floor he’d already given up on trying to figure it out. Trying to figure out what Wulfric wanted would only give him a worse headache than the one that crept back whenever he tried to think about last night.

“So glad to hear you’ve finally come ‘round and accepted what an absolute delight I am.” Callum matched his brother’s sarcastic tone before giving in to Wulfric’s suggestion and grabbing a bunch of grapes. He leaned back against the couch, letting his head drop back and dangling the grapes above him as he open-mouth chewed bites off the bunch.

Auguste's head popped into the door frame before Wulfric could close it. “...My, what’s this? An impromptu meeting between brothers without inviting me?” A half-smile crept onto his face, amused by his own musings. He stayed by the door-frame, waiting to be invited in.

“Lured in by the mystery of an unusually opened room?” Wulfric commented dryly, then motioned his brother in. “You might as well join us.” Once Auguste entered, he did finally close the door.

“Of course, an empty room becomes infinitely more interesting when my brothers step into one.” Auguste replied with a smile as he let himself in. He found his favoured seat in Wulfric’s office, in front of a small, circular table where he and his brother had often shared a drink.

As Auguste peeked his head in through the open door, Callum had quickly tried to correct his posture and cease his antagonistic actions but only ended up nearly choking on a grape. He managed to cough it back into his hand and then finished chewing it, now with his mouth closed, before speaking. “Welcome to the meeting of exceptional minds, Aug.”

Wulfric followed Auguste back in, eyeing Callum’s reaction with thoughtful interest. He stopped by the coffee table, and prepared two cups of coffee, one to his own liking, and one to Auguste’s. He left the former on the table, and brought the latter over to his middle brother. Then, he returned to his table to pick up his own. Cup in hand, he settled into one of the remaining two couches. As he sat all the way back, comfortably leaning against the backrest, he let one arm settle onto the armrest. He crossed one leg over the other, and used his knee as a perch for the saucer, cup, and teaspoon.

Though he was in a position where he could easily look at either brother, he angled his head towards Callum. “So.” He took a slow sip of his coffee. “What was your line of thinking with that whole onion bit?” His whole demeanour was quite casual, and his tone genuinely curious, though he by no means found the action in question agreeable.

Damn. Callum thought. This was about the onion. But the conversation didn’t feel like he was in trouble, not like the one this morning. Callum shrugged, immediately deciding that Wulfric wouldn’t understand. Edin liked Wulfric, and his brother didn’t know what it was like to bear the brunt of the king’s malice. But Edin’s ire was inescapable for Cal, it had become part of his identity, and he wasn’t going to let that ire fall down on anyone else, it was his. His action hadn’t been fueled by thoughts, it had been instinct.

“For attention, obviously. And it successfully caught the eye of Ar-, Lady Edwards did it not?” Callum knew his eldest brother too easily saw through outright lies, so he spun what little truth he offered into something more agreeable. “How were your dates? You both seem popular with our Alidasht guests.” Callum did his best to lead the conversation away from the onion. He tossed what remained of the bunch of grapes back onto the table.

Wulfric gave a noncommittal hum. “And here I thought it was some particularly impulsive, inefficient, and bizzare act of trying to ‘help’ that commoner,” he pondered, side-eying Callum’s reaction. “Though help with what or how – nevermind why – rather escapes my understanding,” he snarked. He closed his eyes for a long sip of coffee. “Well, I had supposed it was either that, or your usual inability not to oppose or provoke father in the most senseless of ways…” He seemed strangely placid, almost as if he were willing to let this topic rest – however, he by no means grabbed onto the next conversational hook.

“Yeah, I’m sure anything that doesn’t revolve around this family escapes your understanding, brother.” Callum muttered back as he shook his head and gritted his teeth at the rest of what Wulfric said. His anxious fidgeting stopped. The sarcasm and theatrical antics ceased as coldness and spite replaced them. He looked at Wulfric much in the same way he glared at his father as his eldest brother plucked at a raw nerve.

“Did you really ask me here to point out how stupid my every action is or to chastise me for eating a vegetable? Neither of which affected you or our family’s relationship with our guests. Right? I didn’t interfere with anything. I cooperated with that idiotic event. What more do you want? Got a list of things I’m allowed to put in my mouth now? I don’t need a third, unwanted, parent, Wulfy.” He spat his words out, not raising his voice, but allowing his contempt to coat them as he spoke.

“It is because I know how clever you are that-” he started with offended incredulity, setting his cup and saucer down with more force than strictly necessary. But before he could say any more, Callum continued.

“Well, want it or not, I swear by the gods: I will do all I can to stick around,” Wulfric growled out, anger sparking his gaze. “So, unless you are inclined to actually do something about that you will have to settle for being one in the long line of many who hope I will spontaneously drop dead!”

Naturally, Auguste had quickly grasped Callum’s intent with his…rather unorthodox, albeit well-intentioned, and conspicuous display. His brother had wanted to draw their father’s attention from the girl to himself. It was why he, too, assisted in defusing the situation.

Auguste was no stranger to his brothers’ frequent spats. Although it made him uncomfortable, he had grown more than accustomed to their arguments. It seemed the two just grated each other to their wits’ end. It did not help that the two tended to speak in coded language and bitter sarcasm. Not difficult to translate but the sub-text plucked at his own heart.

“Calmer tones, brothers.” Auguste interjected lightly, although he would still take a relative backseat to their conversation as this needed to be hashed out between the two. “And please, actually speak towards each other, not with veiled jabs nor rhetorical retorts. For me…please?”

“Now who’s the parental one,” Wulfric scoffed, but even though he was clearly still angry, he settled down some.

“Oh, the irony of a peacemaker who is most himself when wielding a sword.” Cal’s glare shot toward Auguste and regret followed soon afterward. It wasn’t something he’d meant to say out loud. But that was Callum; lashing out at whoever was around at the slightest provocation. He leaned his head over the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “Sorry, Auguste, it’s just been a long day. I didn’t mean it.” He added, softening his tone.

Auguste simply waved off Wulfric’s, and then Callum’s, words with a weary smile. Their words did ring some truth to them; it wasn’t the first time he had been called ‘parent-like’... And in times of stress he does reach for his hip - often grasping at empty air as he did not always carry his blade. “It’s alright, Callum, no need to apologize.” The prince took a small swig of coffee and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“And I don’t wish for you to drop dead.” He mumbled out a response to Wulfric, not an apology, but it was close to saying something nice. “There’s a couple people I’m saving those wishes for already.” He added, half joking, but smiling some as he continued to look up at the ceiling.

“Well, good,” Wulfric huffed, still somewhat disgruntled as he frowned at Callum. After a long, long moment of deliberation, he said, “I would rather you remain alive, as well.” While he spoke clearly, if quietly, and though looking directly at Callum, this was said with some reservation. It was quite the awkward profession to make, after all.

Sighing audibly, Wulfric picked up his previously abandoned cup of coffee, and drank the rest. While a part of him considered asking who his brother wanted dead, and if he by any chance wanted active help realizing those wishes, he eventually decided against it. Instead, he addressed what he felt was the overarching issue.

“To answer your question…What I really want to know.” Wulfric took a moment to think about how to phrase this, or rather, phrase it with the least possible amount of sarcasm and frustration, as had been requested. “Do you not see or care at all how each and every action,” he paused briefly. “Each action which makes you seem like a fool or madman…Reduces the influence with which you could do something better?”

“Maybe I am just a fool and a madman. Everyone else sees the same things I do, and most of them can just look away. But I can’t. And that makes me feel crazy.” He tore his gaze away from the ceiling and looked at Wulfric. “They would have killed Darryn today, for no other reason than to spill blood. That is what our parents are, they will not change. Whatever distance I can get from that, the better.” Callum wasn’t sure if he’d shared too much but he doubted Wulfric would relent until he got something resembling an answer.

“So I can cooperate with your summer plans, smile and play nice, and keep from dragging the Alidasht into anything unsavory, but I can’t pretend that I am okay with what goes on here.” Cal added with a shrug. That was the most he could offer, too much compromise and he risked losing himself.

Wulfric gazed at Callum intently, turned fully towards him, and took his time pondering all he’d said. “I see…” he said slowly, and he was clearly at least trying to. “Believe it or not, I am not trying to change your values, so that is fine.” Yet he was still frowning mildly, and had more to say to that. “But my point was that the more you do things like you did in relation to that strange commoner girl – things which reduce your political respectability, and the favour you could have, that is – the less you can do to aid in more critical situations, like Fletcher’s was.”

He silently sighed “I think you at least partially understand my meaning, because you knew that you had to use my influence to get what you wanted,” he added neutrally. “What I would like you to consider is how you might be able to do more of the same. No need to cooperate with our parents directly, if you detest them so much…” Wulfric shook his head at that, because he thought it fairly nonsensical to limit your own options for the sake of pure principle. “But you could work more with me, or with him,” at this, he gestured to Auguste, “or hell, with whoever else that you can at this point, really.”

“That strange commoner girl was not only very kind but she also offered me a very thoughtful gift. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with this place, no one wants to see anything beyond titles. You will be king one day, and you already speak of your people like you don’t even like them. Planning to rule as Edin does? Treating your people like a nuisance who exist only for tax revenue?” Callum’s anger flared back up even as he tried to stay civil. Wulfric’s point wasn’t entirely wrong, it just wouldn’t work for him for reasons that could not be voiced around anyone who shared his surname. He took a moment, and a deep breath, to recompose himself.

“I will not-” Wulfric began indignantly, but cut himself off to stop another outburst. But he did think to himself rather sourly, Why would I have to like them to rule differently?

Callum shook his head at Wulfric’s reply, he wasn’t surprised but it was something he hadn’t hoped to hear. “Every deal with a devil comes with a price. How much of my soul can I bargain away before there's nothing left? But, yes, I’d rather owe a debt to you than let a man die for mine, and Ana’s, mistake. I chose the lesser of two evils then because there was little time for anything else. Can either of you honestly look me in the eyes and say that working with them, standing by every horrible thing our parents have done, hasn’t torn something from you?" He looked from Wulfric to Auguste, not sure what he’d hear from either brother.

A look of uncertainty crossed Auguste’s face that was soon replaced with his usual confidence. “...How did that saying go; ‘Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling, it matters little.’ Choosing between ‘two evils’ is always a difficult choice, Cal… er- not to say that I think that working with dear Wulfric is evil, far from it.” Auguste replied, “While we are privileged, our ‘job’ is difficult… Soon, we will be the ones faced with choosing between impossible choices. If it’s any consolation, I believe you chose correctly.” He nodded, tacitly agreeing that idly standing by their family’s misdeeds had indeed taken a toll on him. Although Wulfric also did have a point, to make radical changes you need to rise to a higher position. Changes without power is akin to screaming at a brick wall.

Callum smiled and nodded at Auguste, there was a lot of hope in knowing that Auguste wasn’t rotten. It didn’t have to keep spreading down the family tree. But Auguste was loyal, he wouldn’t turn on their family. Callum couldn’t blame someone for that.

The last of Callum’s words had Wulfric’s fists clenching, and he stared into the off-distance stonily. “How I wish I could honestly say that nothing has ever been torn away from me,” he said lowly, expression twisting momentarily with all kinds of deeply unpleasant emotions. However, it was gone too soon to pinpoint his exact feelings. Though it wasn’t quite for the reasons Callum had mentioned, he did have his own for the utter loathing that he’d just had to learn to live with.

“But so what?” he scoffed, tossing his head to the side in irritation. “It changes nothing,” he hissed, facing Callum. “Not that the best way for me to become a ruler is via legitimate succession…and certainly not my beliefs,” he sneered.

Then, a familiar, comforting coldness overtook him, one that was at once sharp yet dampening. A strange smile graced his features as he chuckled darkly. “It seems that leaves us at an impasse…For now.”

Callum glimpsed a familiar darkness in Wulfric, the same that lurked behind his mother’s eyes. Everything was clearer; there could be no more deals or alliances with Wulfric. Callum only stared off at nothing until his eyes became unfocused as his brother spoke. Wulfric would only ever care about power, only the ends, never the means. His eldest brother was lost. He’d thought it before, but even still he felt unready to really know it. He hated that Wulfric had said it so clearly. He hated what his brother had become, but he could bring himself to hate his brother. He wished he hadn’t woken up this morning. “Yeah, an impasse. I’ve got nothing more to say.” He stood up to leave but it seemed Wulfric had more to add.

“Well, then, Callum. There is something else - nothing long, arduous, or philosophical, not to worry,” he barked a non-amused laugh. “As part of your cooperative efforts,” he flashed a razor-sharp smile. “For one...Whenever you leave the castle henceforth, you will take at least two guards with you - your pick as to who.” Wulfric waited a beat to gauge Callum’s reaction. “For another, I would like you to give it your best in learning how to moderate your alcohol intake.”

Cal rolled his eyes at his brother’s attempt to exert control over him. The guards would be a nuisance. But then Wulfric brought up lessening his drinking, and he only snorted. “My best efforts are infamously disappointing. But sure, have your armed nannies follow me about.” But still his brother wasn’t finished, Wulfric had one last devastating utterance left.

“Ah, and not to forget…By absolutely no means are you to establish contact with Marek Delronzo.” By the glint in his eyes, this had been a card Wulfric had kept up his sleeve until the opportune moment.

How could he know that name? There was really only one way. No one else at that party knew Marek. Just him and Ana. And Cal knew he hadn’t caved. Gods-damnit, Ana. So he couldn’t trust Ana either. “As agreed.” He muttered. Marek, at least, had the ways and means to protect himself.

“Have a good day, Auguste,” was all Cal added before he left. Once again, Callum left the door wide open.

“You too, Callum.” Auguste managed to get in before he left.

When Callum made to get up, Wulfric shifted as if he were about to try and do the same, feeling oddly inclined to go after him, and do...something. But in the end, he only resettled back into in his seat. “What a terrible mistake this was…”

But what was the mistake? Being too honest with his brother, or not being honest enough? That he was ready to make necessary sacrifices? That he may have been wrong about the necessity of some of them? Because in retrospect…lining up Fletcher…might have indeed been pointless.

And now, Callum had left before Wulfric could have a proper conversation about Marek. He turned to look at Auguste, but his gaze was so distant, it was questionable whether he was seeing his sibling at all. “You ought to know…” he began, words slower than usual due to his preoccupation. “Marek Delronzo…that is the name of the party’s host…allegedly.”

Callum’s reaction had tacitly confirmed that this was true, but it still wasn’t as much of a certainty as Wulfric would prefer. He should have known that prodding Callum wouldn’t amount to much. (Should he have even been trying to gain information from his brother in such a way?)

Sighing, he continued his one-sided conversation with Auguste. “That name was relayed to me by a certain Count Hendrix,” he noted. “Quite suspicious…But then again, what is another man playing at politics, looking to use what there is to use?” he mused wryly.

His thoughts returned to Callum. “I meant to…” he trailed off. What he had wanted was to reach some sort of an understanding with him. Yet his words and actions had been anything but conducive to that. He had the uncomfortable suspicion that the only thing he managed to achieve was to hurt Callum. “Him and I…” he shook his head sadly, regretfully.

A long inhale and exhale followed. Feeling suddenly weary, Wulfric leaned his head against the backrest, and closed his eyes. “Leave me be now, brother.”

Time: 12 AM
Location: Execution at the Athletic Arena
Attire: Outfit
Interaction: @Conscripts John
Mentions:



Mina gave one last thankful nod to Leo before he left before turning her full attention to John. Truth be told, she was still weary and her head was still pounding a bit, but the whispers were irritating. She merely had to keep her composure until they could get out of this place, unless they followed her… No, Mina couldn’t worry about that right now, that was a problem for future her.

She nodded to John as she watched him call for the carriage, thankful to not have to walk back. She truly did want to sit down for a bit. It was his next question that caught her off guard a bit, but she found a smirk slowly blooming on her lips. ”My dear John, at least take me on a date first before getting me out of my clothing.” She teased him and then giggled, accepting the handkerchief. She dabbed at her face some, then down her neck, to her bosom. Once she was done, Mina’s fingers moved to her underbust corset as she began unlacing it. She was sure she would get some odd looks, but it was the one thing she could take off without completely revealing herself. She also undid a few more buttons on her blouse, thankful for the ability to breathe unrestricted now.

”Strange things have been happening this year it seems, wouldn’t you agree?” She asked her friend as she watched the carriage approach. She waited for it to come to a stop and the door to be opened before climbing in, setting her corset and the handkerchief beside her. She then waited for John to join her and remembered something then. ”Oh! John! Since we’re heading back and I had planned on paying you a visit today anyways, would you have a moment to glance at a blood sample I took yesterday of my uncles? I found something curious about it and wanted to get your opinion. And before you ask, yes I stored it properly as you showed me.” The last bit was said with a small laugh.