Sjan-dehk inhaled sharply as his eyes shot open. His heart pounded like a frantic wardrum, and the sweat beading upon his forehead and matting his hair was cold. He clambered out of his hammock with the rush of a sailor called to action, almost crashing to the floor had he not found his footing in time. Chaotic eddies in his head churned every thought into a disorganised mess. He wiped a hand across his eyes repeatedly, as if he could physically remove the images he’d seen from his irises.

Bleary-eyed, he felt his way through his cabin until he reached his desk. White-knuckled hands held onto it as he drew in a deep breath. Calm. He had to be calm. The lump forming in his throat was swallowed with great difficulty, and soon his rapid pants gave way to ragged breaths. He squeezed his eyes shut until he felt his heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm. Then, he opened them.

His cabin was as he’d left it the previous night: an utter mess. Charts both old and new, books and scrolls both well-worn and fresh, covered his desk. Navigational tools sat disused on shelves and in boxes. Only his clothes and equipment were organised with any sort of care, hung as they were from rails set into the ceiling. Still in a daze, Sjan-dehk shifted items across his desk without any real thought.

As the shock of the nightmare wore off, embarrassment and annoyance quickly took its place. None of the images his mind had conjured were anything new. He’d had this nightmare before, among others; it should be something he was used to, by now. Or at least something he knew how to deal with.

He breathed in deeply through his nose and pushed himself away from his desk. It’d just been a long time since he even had the time to have nightmares, he told himself. Between fighting a war, clearing the seas of pirates, and the stress of the voyage to Sorian, every night in recent years had ended with him so tired that he fell into dreamless sleep. But now? He had no pressing matters to attend to. Nothing that called for so much attention that it would distract his mind from whatever it was that haunted him, at least.

He grunted as he threw on his clothes. Selfish as it was, he couldn’t help but miss the war. Or just combat in general. There was nothing quite like the rush of a fight to take the mind off of things.

A blue outer tunic went over a thinner, white counterpart. Sjan-dehk deftly tied the laces on his right with a single hand. “It’s all over,” he muttered to himself. Peace was a good thing, he knew. It pleased him to no end that his homeland was no longer torn apart by bloody conflict. Yet at the same time, he feared it. One day it would catch up to him, and then what could he do? All he’d ever known was sailing and fighting and the open sea.

And the water. Dark, icy water.

Sjan-dehk hissed as he squeezed his eyes shut once more. He had to stop thinking about that. It wouldn’t do him any good. He gritted his teeth and tightened his sword belt around his waist. Routine. He just had to focus on that. Sword belt, then shoulder belts. His sabres came next, sliding neatly into their frogs on either side of his body. Then his four pistols, one into each holster. He grabbed his hat on his way out of the cabin and into the bright, morning sun warming the deck of his Sada Kurau.

He breathed in the crisp air and made his way to the quarterdeck. There, he found Azwan and Avek both looking out at something towards the city. “Morning,” Sjan-dehk greeted with a nod. Whatever traces of his earlier turmoil had been wiped clean from his face and voice. Before his crew, he could be nothing but the unflappable and sometimes mischievous captain they all knew him as.

“Good morning, Captain,” the two men greeted in turn, accompanied by salutes. Sjan-dehk joined them at the guardrail.

“We’re just looking at the beach.” Azwan gestured to the sandy shores. Crowds of people were gathered by the waterside. Some had carts with them, others seemed to be carrying boats of some sort. Most were just enjoying themselves in the shallows or playing on the sand. “Looks like there’s something going on.”

Sjan-dehk nodded. “Worth a look, I suppose. Not like I’ve got anything going on today.”

Avek smirked. “Don’t you have a date later?”

A flush came over Sjan-dehk’s cheeks. “I-It’s not a date,” he stuttered, much to his dismay. He’d spent the previous day with Kalliope as she showed him around Sorian. Along the way, she managed to convince him to join her at a masquerade ball to be held later tonight. They'd even gone shopping for what they'd wear together. Sjan-dehk cleared his throat. “She’s attending a banquet or feast of some sort later. I’ll simply be her escort. That’s only polite, after all she did for me.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Avek said, his grin still pulling on his lips. “But I thought you hated those sorts of things, Captain. Strange that you agreed.”

Sjan-dehk tugged on the collar of his shirts. Mursi wasn’t wrong; Sjan-dehk did carry a special disdain for anything formal. But he didn’t quite mind Kalliope’s company, if he had to be honest. She was pleasant to be around, and he thought they got along well enough. There was no real reason for him to turn her down, and besides, he may as well get used to how Caesonian nobles did things. He’d have to mingle with them a lot more in the near future, he imagined. Might as well take the chance while he could to attend at least one such event with someone he actually liked.

“It’s…A special situation,” he replied awkwardly.

“Special, is it?” Avek quipped. “She must be quite the wo–”

“I’m sorry, Master Avek, but are you jealous that Master Mursi gets to clean the latrines?” Sjan-dehk cut in with an arched brow. “I can have you join him, if that’s the case.”

“Understood, Captain. I’ll say no more.” Avek looked back out towards the beach. “Think we could give the people a show? Sail the Sada Kurau right across their eyes while they’re having fun.”

Azwan shot him a piercing look. “What for, Master Avek? The Sada Kurau is a warship, not a showboat.”

Avek shrugged. “Fun, I suppose. Besides, haven’t you noticed the worried looks people have been giving us when they walk past? Not sure if everyone’s as at ease with our visit as we may think.” He met Azwan’s gaze and continued. “I mean, think about it. We’re armed to the teeth and we don’t speak their language at all.” He glanced at Sjan-dehk. “Not most of us, at least. We should do something to let them know that we’re friendly. Peaceful, at least.”

Sjan-dehk considered his words, then rested his arms on the guardrail. “You just want to show off, Avek. I know you too well.”

“Guilty as charged, Captain.”

Chewing on his lip, Sjan-dehk continued to mull over Avek’s suggestion. He wasn’t wrong; it would do his Sada Kurau and his crew some good to show some goodwill. Already, he’d had to punish several men for what likely stemmed from simply misunderstandings. “Don’t think we can do it even if we want to,” he said and tilted his chin towards the shoreline. “Look at the colour of the water. It’s too shallow. Chances are that we’ll run aground if we want to get close enough for any good.”

And if that happened, a hole would be torn in his Sada Kurau’s hull, and water would flood in.

Dark, icy. Sjan-dehk closed his eyes again to banish the thought, his jaw clenched. He looked down at the water. Inky black. Shouts of a desperate boy. A hand sticking out of churning waves. No, he couldn’t allow himself to go down this path. He squeezed his eyes balled his hands into loose fists. He couldn't allow a mere dream to play tricks on his mind.

“Captain?” It was Avek, the usual mirth in his voice replaced by concern.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well,” Sjan-dehk replied quickly and opened his eyes with a long sigh. “I’ll have a look at what’s going on at the beach later.” He looked down at the water again. This time, golden shimmers rippled upon gentle, cerulean waves. It was bright. Vibrant, even, and not at all dark. With a nod to the two men, Sjan-dehk turned and walked away. All was well and all was fine. He just had to keep telling himself that.

Time: Late Morning
Location: Sorian Beach
Interactions: @princess Charlotte ★ @FunnyGuy Lorenzo ★ @Lava Alckon Farim ★
Mentions: John
Aesthetic:
★ Swimsuit
★ Dress
★ Hair & Accessories

---

[color=mediumseagreen]

Olivia stared out at the ocean waves with her head in the clouds. The soft, rolling waves helped relax her, though staring out at them caused her stomach to churn. Behind her, the music played and helped convey a sense of relief in her. Had she not been who she was now, it was unlikely she’d be here. Their family normally stayed away from large gatherings, due to the hatred her parents had for the wealthy class. Beach trips had been adorned with frustration in her youth. It had been a chore lugging their belongings to and from their home and the beach, trying to find a space away from nobles, being mocked for their poor attire, and having their belongings stolen.

Liv remembered losing her favorite stuffed animal she’d brought everywhere; a pastel blue bunny with long floppy ears she’d named Blueberry. The hazy memory came back to her and all she could recall was reddish hair and knew the laugh had been wicked. These experiences had given Olivia a bad taste in her mouth. On top of that, she’d nearly drowned in the rift currents after a noble boy threw her mother’s jewelry in the ocean, claiming it had been “worthless”.

”...Olivia, my offer still stands,” ... "But I'd like to relax here before we embark on our mermaid adventures. Can't go without Kazumin anyhow."

Charlotte’s voice broke through her reverie and brought Olivia back down from the clouds. Whether it was the warmth of the sunshine or her new friend’s voice, Olivia was unsure. However, as she turned to face Charlotte, a smile was plastered on her face. She took a deep breath, glanced at the ocean, then turned back to her and nodded. This had been one of the few past experiences she confided to Charlotte, hoping to help bridge the gap between their lives and the understanding of who she was and was becoming.

”Offer is accepted.” She replied with a genuine smile as she sat beside Charlotte on a beach towel. ”I’d love to relax here too. Can you hand me some food please?”

Unexpectedly, the food the Vikena's kept and prepared had been something Olivia started cherishing. Her appetite was nearly unstoppable, and she ate as much as she could. She had gone months without eating properly and had eaten as much as she could. With a sigh, Olivia leaned out on her palms and stretched her long legs out and grinned to herself. The clothing she wore was out of her league and had taken her time to get used to. Shopping with Charlotte had been nerve wracking at first, due to having to change her style and undergo more of a makeover; yet, Liv couldn’t deny how cute the clothes looked, although she hadn’t been a fan of having Charlotte pay for so much. It left a hole in her heart, something she knew she’d have to pay forward in any way she could.

This had not been the adventure she thought she’d have, but she was forever grateful to Charlotte, Fritz, Kazumin, and of course, Devan.

---

((Previous Day Collab))

△△△ kept waving in Luz’s direction as Sir Barrios pushed her wheelchair until both figures were swallowed by the crowd. He turned his attention back to where the two other Varians were and approached them. “We meet again, Grand Healer,” △△△ nodded to Dr. Williamson, then to the blacksmith lord, “Lord Ravenwood.”

“Apologies if I am interrupting your mysterious secret conversation, but I was hoping you’d be willing to indulge me with a discussion about a certain mysterious secret party.”

Movement to the corner of his eye alerted Roman to the new presence seemingly wanting to join in on their conversation. “Count Fritz '' he spoke, giving the man a nod of acknowledgement. “Not so much a secret conversation, just discussing the pros and cons of possibly bringing these fried treats and popcorn to the northern territories. We don't know if they would be addictive or possibly some kind of health hazard.” his smile still didn't fade and he sounded just as genuine as he always was around others, “So what is this talk of a secret party?” his voice lowered again.

△△△ sighed and shook his head, “The world couldn’t be crueler… Why do things that are bad for you taste oh so good? It makes no sense.” He smiled and continued as if they were still talking about food. “Why, the secret party that you attended last night, Lord Ravenwood. I heard it was wild! …But also a little concerning since everyone who attended seemed to have mysteriously lost their memories.” He glanced at Dr. Williamson for a moment. “Lady Vikena, Lord Smithwood, and I decided to investigate the matter.”

John raised his eyebrows ”Oh yeah I’ve heard of that. It’s a nightmare for us yesterday.” He shot a glance over at Roman at the mention of Lord Smithwood. Given the almost certainty of magic being used, and their identities unknown, he couldn’t help but be a little worried. Especially when it comes to these two characters, they probably weren’t aware what they were getting into. ”Oh, are yall? What have you uncovered?”

“Not much so far. That’s why I wanted to ask you about the party, Lord Ravenwood.” He paused for a moment, considering how he should phrase the next part in case the lord was not privy to the possibility. “And ask if you have considered my suspicions, Dr. Williamson.”

Listening carefully as he decided on how to respond to the question, this was the first person that personally approached him with just that question in mind. “Last night? Hmm well I've made some inquiries into the event as well. For whatever reason I was not affected as badly as some of the others." That statement was true as he glanced in the direction that Zarai left. “I still don't remember anything aside from who was with us when we left and waking up with a slight headache.”

It was, as △△△ expected, the same testimony repeated by a different person. “As it seems to be more or less the case for the others as well. Which worries me more… My primary concern is what could’ve been done to the attendees during the party. Anything could’ve happened and no one is none the wiser because no one remembers anything.”

Not only considered, but basically confirmed. But the Count didn’t know that. ”I will put that into consideration, yes. But there hasn’t been any evidence beyond speculation, and not a lot of evidence period. If there’s any in favor of your ideas, we would love to hear it.” He shrugged his shoulders and laid his palms bare, as a casual gesture, but one socially-savvy person could tell he was subtly probing the Count if he was willing to give out more information.

A knowing smile slowly appeared across △△△’s face as he stared at Dr. Williamson. Even if the doctor had stumbled upon compelling evidence, he would not disclose it to him so easily. In his role as the esteemed royal physician, Dr. Williamson was duty-bound to safeguard the well-being of the royal family and her subjects. It was inconceivable that he would have neglected to explore the potential influence of magic when the slightest possibility of its presence emerged. The consequences of disregarding it were far too great to be ignored. “You sound like an intelligencer when you say it like that.”

After carefully observing the reactions of the men, he continued. “As you say, I have no evidence, just speculations and rumors. So I am sorry to say that I will be of no use to you, Dr. Williamson.” △△△’s eyes wandered in the direction Luz and her knight went. “However, I am desperate. And I am willing to investigate less reliable leads if I must.” His focus returned to the other two. “I don’t mind if it is mere conjecture, what do you gentlemen think transpired?”

Staying quiet for a moment to let the two talk, He pondered how to go about this conversation without revealing too much information but still giving this man a tail to chase. “Well go over some of the more well known information, we were all royals or nobles from the three kingdoms, i haven't heard of anyone losing jewelry or money, most of us came out of the night rather unharmed.” he glanced at the direction the zarai had disappeared. “Most of us… no missing organs or anyone mis-shapen in any way. What could we all have that could benefit someone?”

He shifted his stance and straightened his back with a sigh, “but I do press caution for you Leo and charlotte. If this person or persons would use something that affected the nobility and royalty from multiple kingdoms in such a way, then it's not too much of a stretch to come to the conclusion that they might harm or kill anyone looking into it…” his brow furrowed for a moment at his words, Fritz could very well be putting the others in danger thus making his job harder. “So again be careful who you talk to and what questions you ask. You could inadvertently get them hurt as well.”

Guilt and sadness for a loss yet to come gripped △△△. “It may already be too late for that.” He whispered as he closed his eyes.

△△△ took in a deep breath. He noted how both men were avoiding directly answering his questions, which led him to consider the possibility that either they were withholding information or that they were involved in the investigation in some capacity. “Lady Lesdeman believes that the party attendees were drugged. Were you able to find anything in their system to support this possibility?”

”There’s a lot of alcohol in their system, that’s for sure.” John crossed his arms, giving his thoughts a second scan before actually command his vocal chord to materialize them. He really did not want to give the Count information here, but giving him less would just alert him even more, hearing how he thought John was more of a spy than doctor. It’s pretty clear he had to give him something. And his quick thoughts provided him that something.

”But within the alcohol we also find something rather…troublesome. It’s a substance called bihydrat hydroxyd.” With a completely straight face, John explained the situation. ”The substance is, and I hope you will be discreet with this information, used in anesthesia. It is also a component of acid rain and pesticide used by farmers. Now, it isn’t inherently toxic, and since everyone seems to be fine the day after, it’s likely not poisonous. But keep an eye out for any dangerous symptoms.” The doctor looked at Roman with slight efforted reassurance, but his tone otherwise was eloquent before turning back to Fritz. ”To answer your question, yes, if they were drugged, using alcohol with added substance would be a good vector of attack, seeing how it is odorless and colorless, so blends in really well with drinks. However, as much as we have used them in our medical field, none of our patients have experienced memory loss, so there are still unanswered questions.”

△△△’s eyes grew wide and his mouth became slightly agape, unable to find the right words to articulate his emotions. Bihydrat hydroxyd. Bi. Hydrat. Hydroxyd. His body began to tremble, starting with a barely noticeable quiver that grew into uncontrollable shakes. Until, finally, △△△ erupted into laughter. “Oh, Doctor! I’d be greatly concerned if they didn’t have a drop of bihydrat hydroxyd in them!” Pausing momentarily to catch his breath, he playfully added, “Would you please be so kind as to fetch me a cup of water? I’m starting to feel rather parched.”

”Ah.” John tapped the side of his head once. It didn’t fool him. Usually that would have worked. ”Sure, have some.” He grabbed a bottle from his pocket, containing water he saved from Sadie’s party. Whether or not that came off as genuine or an elaborate ploy was up to Fritz, he was just glad that the Count saw through the ruse. Now he knew what to expect.

Wiping away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, △△△ inquired, sparing Lord Ravenwood the briefest of glances. “So, Agent… or Agents, who issued the directive to conceal the involvement of magic in this affair—His or Her Majesty, or V.R.I.S.?” ... A mysterious third party?

”Hmm, who do you think did so, Count ‘Hendrix’?” John asked the mysterious noble. ”You know, since you asked me quite a lot despite being quite aware of the transpiring situation.”

“Much less than you suspect, unfortunately. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t have evidence.” △△△ gave Dr. Williamson’s first question careful thought. “Based on past dealings, I wouldn’t be surprised if either gave the order.” As Crosswinds Tradings merchants, his family had the privilege of working with both parties, supplying them with an extensive range of ingredients, materials, and items sourced from far and wide—some of which possessed extraordinary properties by Northern Kingdom standards.

Again roman stayed quiet as the two talked, the count saying something under his breath and the Dr. making a joke of some kind related to a chemical he didn't quite pick up on. Apparently the punch line was for water or some other beverage he wasn't sure. He knew chemicals when it came to certain subjects like acid etching and the right components to mix for certain creations. Nevertheless it did not seem like the count was being swayed to the notion that the two of them didn't know anything more.

“I'm not sure what you mean by agent, I am a craftsman and the head of my family's craftsman and trading guild.” Roman wasn't sure what that third party was but only let bewilderment escape his facial features. “Magic is a dangerous thing, to both one's life and political standing. I Would tread carefully with your next words, Count Fritz Hendrix.” his voice changed slightly to a subtle accusatory tone.

“To start a rumor that the Crown was aware of the use of magic on its nobles on foreign soil and did not do anything about it while telling everyone that knew to keep it quiet… could very easily be misinterpreted as treason.” his voice didn't shift or quiver and his body language didn't change either. The people of the northern Varian territories were known to be very loyal to the crown to the point that many thought of them as zealots. Taking any perceived question or rumor as a possible threat to them. Most of those rumors held true.

The difference in the responses between the two Varians revealed a lot. The reaction to △△△’s audacious assertions, regardless of their veracity, told him even more.

Appearing unflappable or innocently oblivious to Lord Ravenwood’s warning, the count clasped his hands together. “Excellent! Does this mean you will rectify my terrible misunderstanding by sharing more of what you know?” Though the question was directed at the lord there was an unspoken invitation to the doctor to do the same, whether in front of the other Varian or in private, if need be.

John sighed; Fritz really is persistent. Roman’s response seemed to only push his buttons even further. The doctor exchanged a glance towards the northern blacksmith, tilting his head as a silent gesture to let him take the lead, and also for permission.

John was no Varian northsman of utmost loyalty, nor was he a Caesonian of grandeur. He was born into both, combined with a unique but cruelly attained perspective that really defined him as neither. He was John Harling Williamson, a scientist, epidemiologist, a healer and protector of people.

”I’ll let you in…you know what, let me tell you a story instead.” John began. ”There are a number of villages in the north, those that suffered a devastating plague not long ago. The biggest one: Alestal. It was a horrific time, entire families wiped out, generations dented with trauma.” He kept calm in his speech, but then reached into his chest pocket for a small fountain pen, covered in milk white paint and golden engravings, handing it to Fritz with gentle care.

”I was there in its darkest hours, as their salvation, and eventually I delivered it to them.” He said, without any hint of pride or sense of accomplishment, rather pity and anger. ”But I did not do any of that. She did.”

Visible on the side of the pen was a word engraved, a name: Hania.

”A local doctor from Alestal. Initially we found ourselves at odds, but in time, we considered each other partners…even friends.” A smile appeared on his face again, overriding a monument of melancholy. But soon, that smile disappeared as painful memories resurfaced. ”She’s the one who figured out the cause of the plague, the thing that so-called ‘men like you’ are so fascinated by, and fought it with itself.”

“Yes, she is a witch, and she saved that village. But.” John gave Count Fritz Hendrix an austere look, and what could be considered a desperate final warning. ”The village knew of her identity, and there was no going back. I will spare the details, but she had become so immaterial to this world that it would be difficult to even know if she ever lived at all. And that is a good ending compared to what could have been.”

John took a long deep breath, before finally relaxed, knowing he had just revealed quite a bit more than desired. But the truth was still there, and he shuddered to think of the possibility of those who failed to see it. ”How much of that was the decree of the king and queen, do you think? How much of that was the V.R.I.S deciding what is forbidden?”

Roman scoffed and stepped back folding his arms. He didn't like that he had to play the fool with political intrigue but he still had to hold some of his cards. He looked like he was going to say something when the doctor began to speak with his own warning. As he started, Roman looked towards the others for a moment then back at the count. He knew this story, there were several mysterious illnesses spreading among tight nit villages at the time. He was sent to maintain the quarantine with his men and persuade any against trying to escape or trying to get in. He did not envy John for what he and the other doctors had to do and see there.

△△△ traced the intricate engraving etched onto the surface. A hero whose name would never grace the pages of any history book. His hands cradled the priceless pen, drawing it closer to his chest, while his eyes closed in an effort to carve the name into his own memory. Dr. Hania of Alestal, Savior of Krasivaya. Each letter possessed a weighty significance, an untold tale of valor and sacrifice.

With a sense of reverence, △△△ extended his hand, offering the memento back to Dr. Williamson. “Thank you for telling me about Dr. Hania. I am honored to be one of the few to know her accomplishments. She deserved better… I am sorry you had to carry such a burden, John. It must’ve been a heavy load to bear.”

Rather than answering the doctor’s question, △△△ recounted him with the abridged version of another tale. “Within this very nation, there was a noble house that vanished inexplicably from the face of Eromora. On a day like any other day, the small town they lived in had been reduced to rubble and the denizens were found as a pile of burnt bodies—some dismembered, one tied to a stake. Such a horrific incident should’ve warranted some kind of record, but instead, every trace of their existence has been systematically eradicated. No book or official document has their name, no map shows the town, and no painting depicts their image. They were being expunged, in every sense of the word. All that remains of them now is a blighted land where the town once stood, vague recollections from those who knew of the place before it was cursed, and people too scared to reveal the truth for fear of losing something precious to them. What is unsettling… is that this isn’t an isolated event.”

The story came to an abrupt end as the previously gentle and easygoing countenance vanished, and a striking sternness that he had concealed until that moment, dominated his demeanor. “Your warnings have not fallen on deaf ears, and I assure you I do not take what either of you have told me lightly. I appreciate the concern both of you have shown me. However, I’m well aware of what happens to people entangled in magic or who pose a threat to those of considerable influence.”

The count placed his hand over his chest and nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, for telling me as much as you could despite… regulations. I apologize if I have ruffled your feathers, gentlemen. But this party… may be part of something far more nefarious.”

John knew that, it wasn’t a surprising conclusion, but what he was surprised and glad about was that he managed to get the Count to open up. Soon, the hostile countenance began to subside to a more compassionate and gentle responding bow in return.

“I lack evidence of any sort,” he stressed, “however… Let’s say, hypothetically, you’ve been keeping track of the number of attendants each Varian guest brought along, and you are aware that I brought three with me from Erwynn. If any of them or I were to disappear…” He stared directly at Lord Ravenwood, “You’ll know that your fears were correct.” △△△ leaned in so that both could hear him whisper, “And that Black Rose may be involved.”

”If you insist on getting involved then, Count Hendrix. ” John replied. ”I will not stop you, but I hope you handle Leo and Charlotte well. The Lord for obvious reasons, but Charlotte…she’s a good girl. I don’t want the abyss to look at her in any shape or form.” Knowing the two of them, with their own separate wounds to heal from, and a concerning level of determination to any tasks, they may end up in serious trouble.

“I cannot promise that no harm will come to them.” Especially if something larger lurked in the shadows. “What I can promise is that I will be there for them so that they don’t have to face the abyss alone.” The three Varians exchanged a wordless pause until Dr. Williamson finally spoke, breaking the silence.

”And also, you can’t drop the name Black Rose like that and not give us any context.”

“I can’t?” △△△ shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “Well then, I suppose I have no choice.” His fingers beckoned the men to come closer.

Time: Morning
Location: Callum’s bedroom to Ezra’s Bakery
Interactions: Ezra @Potter

New day, new chaos. Callum once again had a perfectly terrible idea for how to disrupt his family’s plans. Edin had put so much work into hosting a tea party for nobles, and what did every party need? Cake. So he’d gotten up early, he’d put even more effort into getting ready for the day than he had for the prince’s court. A proper scrubbing, a nice suit, and it all looked even more out of place with his face painted in bruises that were still in the awkward stage of healing that only made them look worse than they initially had. He even took the time to style his hair, making sure it looked like every portrait he’d ever seen of his grandfather George. He studied his face in the mirror, trying to perfectly mimic the same intense expression George’s face held in his portraits as well. Cal had no idea why anything involving George seemed to upset Edin so much, but if it made Edin feel anything like he felt when he thought of Edin, it seemed well worth trying.

Once he was satisfied he left the palace with his invasive babysitters following close behind him and headed to the bakery. Nothing wrong with bringing cakes to a tea party, and he had heard his father so loved Ezra’s cakes. Cal had the hint of a smug smile as he walked, this was going to be a fun day, all he had to do now was convince the baker to attend the tea party as his plus one. It shouldn’t be difficult if the man kept bringing treats to the palace he clearly had a reason to be doing so, Cal didn’t really care what the reason was, but he guessed this would benefit both of them.

“Mister Turner?” He called as he entered, “I’d like to purchase several of your finest cakes!” Callum wore a bright and mischievous smile.