Farim nodded along as Anastasia spoke. He was truly flattered that she was thinking about him throughout the day, and a noticeable blush would appear on his cheeks. As she spoke about reconciling with her brother he couldn’t help but give her a reassuring hug. ”I hope he hears you out and that you face no more family troubles. It can be tough when family fights.” She had smiled in turn.

If As the music swelled, and the offer for Anastasia’s dance was given, Farim smiled and nodded. ”Annie, I don’t need something like music to convince me to have a dance with you.” His hands moved to hold hers and if she would move with him, he’d move them to an open space in the clearing. ”What sort of dance would you fancy tonight?”

Anastasia took his hands and squeezed them, “I fancy the fun kind of dance! Where we spin and tap our barefoot feet in the grass like fairies in the woods!” She exclaimed and excitedly added, “Then after let’s go drink that weird stuff they’re giving out.”

Farim took a moment to imagine the steps she spoke of, and nodded. He reached down to remove his footwear and placed them to the side. With a dramatic spin on his barefoot and a slight skip he held a hand out to offer a physical connection while they would begin to frolick. ”Then let us dance like the fairies of eld and enjoy the … stuff as you say.” He wasn’t entirely sure what her next movements would be, but he would follow her lead all the same.

Anastasia grinned, her eyes shining with excitement, she started guiding Farim into a whimsical dance that seemed somehow both effortless and as if she had probably made it up on the spot, “I’d love to be a fairy. I think you’d make a pretty one! Do you like fairy tales? I haven’t read many but the idea of them are fun… I prefer to make my own stories rather than read them.”

As the two began their dance, the echoing drums thrummed throughout the clearing. The intricate and careful movements of Roman and Mina caught Farim’s attention for a moment before he switched back to Anastasia. ”I think the pretty fairy here would be you, Princess. As for stories…” He pondered as his steps moved to match her levels of whimsy. He seemed to plan his steps carefully, and measured himself to always be within arms reach of his dance partner

”I read many books. I find their stories, messages, and lesson very intriguing. But you are right, Annie. The best stories are the ones we make ourselves.” He slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her in a flirtful maneuver. Farim’s eyes met with the woman’s, holding a clear desire for Anastasia as the dance would take a brief pause.

Anastasia smiled faintly upon the compliment, listening with intrigue as she twirled herself around. She soon found herself in his arms and they wrapped around her. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled as their eyes met, “I’ve never been much of a reader. It always gave me a gnarly headache!” She informed him softly, “Maybe you can read me your favorite one sometime… But do tell me Farim…”

She rotated her body around and wrapped her arms around his neck, “What kind of story do you want to write for yourself?”

It was a question Farim had never been asked. His expression was a mix of mild befuddlement and being impressed by the thought provoking inquiry. But nonetheless it was one he felt ready to answer.

”My life has traversed the many typical genres we know about. The mystery of my upbringing and the thrill and knowing each day in the dunes could have been my last. The history of my country is one that fills my life to this day. The horror of my family's darker secrets are ones that still give me the occasional chill. The friends I have made and the stories I can tell of my journeys are a mixture of comedy, tragedy, and in some cases something straight out of a fantasy. I’ve experienced many things, Princess. But the one that still eludes me is the tale of a good romance. One that captivates the heart and refuses to let go. But I realize such things do not come easily. However that is the story I would like to write, with the hands of the one who I hopefully will be calling my partner.”

He smiled and gently rubbed the back of her palms. He was sure there would likely be some implications behind his words - so he took care not to have an imposing stance over the woman as they both stood amidst a field of dancers and revelers. But it was here in this natural field, with the two covered in each others touch, gaze, and presence that the pen or Farim’s heart began to subconsciously write its own tales. ”What of your story, Annie? Which chapter will you begin to write next?”

Anastasia had started off smiling, enjoying hearing the range of action in Farim’s life, but it soon was replaced by a look of surprise and vulnerability. The touch, though subtle, was an unexpected gesture that seemed to bypass the walls she had built around her heart for just a moment. The rhythmic pulse of the distant laughter and singing formed a distant backdrop to a silent pause in their conversation. She met Farim's eyes, searching for something desperately that she did not dare define to herself. Her focus narrowed, the world shrinking to the connection shared between their hands.

“Romance,” she repeated softly, almost to herself, as if testing the weight of the word. The concept felt foreign; a territory unexplored and intimidating. Unconsciously, she reciprocated the touch by gently rubbing his hands in hers. “I … I don’t know what my future holds. I’ve always improvised in the moment I suppose.”

A shift in her anxiety manifested as a sudden upturn of her lips. “How about those mysterious drinks? Should we try them?” She suggested.

Farim in turn, felt the slowed response, the weight of what she wanted to say almost manifested around them. His eyes could only look at her lips as the words slowly spilled from them. It was as if his own desires were made real in that very moment, and the sensation of her hands within his caused a rhythmic heartbeat that Anastasia could faintly feel against her back as his heart raced.

”Sometimes, following the heart is all we can do.” Was all he could offer in retort in the moment, and as she offered the idea of drinks, Farim took the lead and moved them both by the area where they served the mysterious elixirs. He took a cup in his hand and placed another in hers. The mixture seemed odd, and perhaps a tad smelly, but the man wrapped his arm around hers so his drink came back and touched his lips. ”Let us follow our hearts together, Annie.” He said as he began to drink from his cup.

Stratya Durmand

Time: 23rd, Evening
Location: The Masquerade
Interactions:
Mentions: Peter @JJ Doe & Olivia @Potter, Nahir @Rodiak & Riona, Layla
Mask & Masquerade
(Note: pants)

Time: Night / 3rd song
Location: the ceremony at lovers lake
Interactions: @Tae Mina
Mentions in order:@Lava Alckon Farim @Infinite Cosmos Munir @princess Ana @Helo Callum @Tpartywithzombi Ari
outfit: plaid kilt in his family colors, wearing a snow bear skull headdress/ mask, bones of the bear down his arms back and rib cage, body paint in the form of runes, no shirt or shoes.

Time: Night
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom
Interaction(s): Shehzadi Nahir @Rodiak

Time: Evening
Location: Damien Estate’s Ballroom
Interaction(s): Lady Charlotte Vikena @princess; Mr. V (Kazumin Nagasa) @samreaper; Lord Leo Smithwood @Helo; Lord Cassius Damien (Cassius Vael) @PapaOso

Time: Night
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom
Interaction(s): Persephone Olivia @Potter; Blue @CitrusArms

Stratya Durmand

Time: 23rd, Evening
Location: The Masquerade
Interactions: Peter @JJ Doe
Mentions:
Mask & Masquerade
(Note: pants)

---

---

If nothing else, Drake’s penchant for theatricality drew out a smirk from him. “Good evening, Drake,” he greeted. “Or should I greet you as the Musician?” he joked lightly. “Your visage is recognizable despite the mask, you do realize?” he pointed out, entertained by the lord’s actions. Wulfric then moved onto the next immediate point he was curious about. “Was Princess Sadie unable to come?” he inquired, genuinely intrigued. He had seen them together this morning, and suspected Drake had been waiting for her. Possibly, the lord was now sans a date. All things considered, it was a decent opportunity to draw the man into a (preferably private) conversation.

With a light tap of his cane, Drake humored the man’s deduction. ”Is the costume so easily taken apart? Or are you perhaps far too good of a detective, Sir Danrose?” He lightheartedly joked. He would sound more chipper than usual to those who know him in passing. If he was to play a character, why not exaggerate his social quirks and make some fun out of it?

”Well, you may call me whatever pleases you most, Sir Raven.” He yet again poked fun at the costumes they both wore. ”I like to keep a smidgen of mystique to the identity. Like a good mystery novel, leaving just enough clues for the reader to piece them together.” He chuckled softly.

”As for Miss Camilia….” He paused for a moment, a slight dip in his voice as he softly lamented at the lost chance of a date with his crush. But it was quickly brushed off as he continued. ”She is unable to make it this evening. So I am but a lone bachelor this fine evening. I take it you share a similar fate as my own? Perhaps we could make the night a little less lonely for one another? At least for a spell.” A friendly smile found its way on Drake’s face, a picture perfect show of perfectly innocent intentions.

“A pinch of detecting, a dash of the obvious,” Wulfric returned, playing along. He’d met Drake enough times, and realized the man was enjoying the event. And why not? “What is a masquerade without some mystique?” he agreed. It was one of the reasons he had decided on a full costume.

“That is unfortunate, but I am certain the two of you will meet again. From what I could see, you got along very well.” Thinking of the potential couple, Wulfric felt a hint of playfulness, and indulged it. “Only take care not to get headhunted by Varian, hm? If I were to find myself without one of my future dukes, I would face a conundrum indeed,” he commented slyly.

He chuckled at Drake’s invitation. It was a tad suggestive in ways the man may or may not have intended. Wulfric didn’t mention that, however. “The night is still young! Do not mourn it yet for a lack of company.” The prince appeared to be in a good mood - or perhaps, in a theatrical one. “But yes, let us catch up.” He did want to exchange more than a few words in passing with the man. “How have you been?”

Drake smiled at the prince’s humor, and felt it falter slightly thinking about his missing date. It was true he was concerned, but he also had to realize in the world of politics people often led busy lives. To be caught up over one missed evening would be rather uncouth of him, and it was here that his general mood about the situation turned around.

With a playful shrug, he merely noted, “Well, they can try to headhunt me if they wish, but my country is still my priority, I’ll have you know.” He snickered at the thought. “Princess Camilia does not strike me as the ‘steal a duke’ type, if I’m being frank. But I shall keep my head on a swivel, lest a certain prince grow jealous of my absence.” Drake added another friendly quip with the slightest hint of sass in his voice. He now found himself wondering just how much Wulfric may have missed about the young man since they last talked.

“You know - I truthfully can’t recall the last time we’ve gotten the chance to chat like this. It’s been too long, Wulfric.” Drake thinks for a moment on just what it is he’s been up to - more or less the same in all honesty, but he couldn’t just throw a boring old answer like that in front of Prince Danrose like that. He walked along with the man across the gala - partaking briefly in the sights and sounds of the party but mostly giving Wulfric his full attention.

“I’m sure you are fully aware of the various practices and paperwork behind becoming a Prince, let alone a Duke. I keep up with the growing mountain of duties as well as my personal hobbies. I keep the shooting arm well kept, and I’ve been keeping after the Hareluck Tolmes series if you are familiar. That ace detective is quite the fellow - and his deduction is unmatched. I’ve grown quite fond of the character if I do say so myself. Ah, but I’m rambling - how have you fared, friend?”

“That is good to know,” Wulfric remarked, audibly pleased. A self-proclaimed romantic like Drake could very well get drawn into another country if it was for love. “Oh, I am sure Princess Sadie would do no such thing intentionally,” he commented dryly. The following jealousy comment prompted a small scoff. “Save the coquetry for someone who will appreciate it,” he dismissed, but Drake would realize the prince hadn’t even been moved to exasperation. Wulfric knew it was only a jest on the lord’s part, and this was far from the likes of sleazy, insulting remarks Cassius had thrown around.

He sighed as Drake pointed out that it had been too long since they’ve last had a proper talk. “It has,” he agreed. He considered the man a good colleague, even a friend, but their respective duties left a slim chance for casual chats, let alone for profound discussions that weren’t work related. The two traversed the ballroom, and Wulfric casually observed the proceedings, though at the moment, nothing in particular drew his attention.

“Yes, at times it feels as if the more I do, the more there still remains to attend to,” Wulfric chuckled. However, he sounded far from upset or even tired at the prospect. Drake had long since pegged him as a ‘workaholic’. Of course, the prince, whenever he heard such a descriptor, countered with the fact that he took daily breaks – he would risk going stir-crazy otherwise. “We should go on a hunt sometime,” Wulfric mused. Perhaps, they could invite some others too, and make it into a group outing.

“Ah, yes,” he nodded, recognizing the series Drake mentioned. “‘It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data,’” he quoted one of his favourite lines. “If only life were as neatly ordered as a detective novel…” The unsolvable mysteries of life did have their own wondrous allure, which he could appreciate. Yet, for his concrete problems, he fervently wished for answers. “Recently…” he began, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I have had many concerns lately.” Wulfric then went on to summarize some recent happenings, noting what he considered the key issues; the Alidasht guests’ displeasure and the need to better their diplomatic relations, Duke Lorenzo’s mishaps and his unsuitability for public appearances, that damned party and the guests’ missing memories, the perplexing murder investigation, the shooting at Calbert’s house, and even his younger siblings’ penchant for getting into trouble. The latter, of course, wasn’t out of the ordinary, but they ever did find new ways for it.

“Ah, but excuse me,” he caught himself after a while. “I have slipped entirely into business matters.”

Drake steered the two towards a quiet little pocket in the ballroom. Through some mild observations and deduction, he surmised little foot traffic came through this area. Once the two parked, he continued their conversation. “You know, I do believe you, and the logic is sound. But I am the romantic type, so I can’t help but always have that fleeting feeling for the what-ifs.” He smiled at that statement, and began to absorb the strife of the prince as Wulfric listed his concerns.

As Wulfric finished, Drake nodded in agreement. “Quite the turmoil you find yourself in, Wulfric. But with a kingdom like this I guess high society seldom sleeps.” He took a slight pause to think of a form of response. “Duke Lorenzo is a sort of variable that not even the gods can predict. So trying to worry much over him might do you more harm than good. Or maybe he simply needs something to misdirect all of that latent…energy of his? Something like a party or some form of project to keep him on his feet and out of your hair perhaps? Merely conjecture of course.”

As a nearby waiter carried fancy glasses of champagne around, Drake hailed them down to procure two glasses for the pair. He handed one to Wulfric and continued. “Everything else seems to almost be happening in unison with one another. Almost like they all share a common affinity to give people like you more sleepless nights. As someone who is among the lesser to middle levels of nobility, I assure you the chatter has been all gossip and no brass. People are merely excited to have something interesting to muck over at tea parties but in the public eye things aren’t any worse than usual.” The ‘than usual’ was the key word choice there. Obviously the public was upset over many things, but to chalk it up to solely recent events would be folly. The mischief surrounding the guests and missing memories and murder mysteries were only part of the whole picture when it came to civil unrest in Drake’s mind.

“Ah, and how great minds function similarly. Here I am counseling you as if I had authority to do so. Forgive my boldness. You were talking about a hunt, yes? I would actually rather enjoy that. Maybe even a good horseback ride through the countryside. Gives us both a reason to leave the office perhaps?”

“Because there is no rest for the wicked?” Wulfric quipped. There was an innate irony to commenting on high society’s lack of sleep in the middle of a party, whether Drake had meant it or not. At the segue to his least favourite duke, the prince felt his lips curl in reflexive distaste. Even so, he had to reluctantly admit, “It isn’t as if his management of Veirmont is lacking. Which was the closest he would come to giving Lorenzo a

Fcompliment. “However, it is as if someone has excised the parts of the man’s mind required for comprehending the subtleties of politics. If you were fanciful, I suppose you might say he was cursed.” Despite his harsh words, he had some ideas on how to handle Duke Vikena, but kept them to himself.

And truthfully, the unfortunate duke, as haphazard as he was, wasn’t even the priority concern. “There is rarely only one problem to deal with at a time,” he noted, an amused scoff escaping him. However, his entertainment was as fleeting as a stray blossom blasted by a sudden gust of wind - and just as violently replaced by a sourer mood. “I hope you do not believe me to be primarily concerned by idle gossip.” He did not miss what Drake was alluding to. “If none of this is ‘worse than the usual’, then ‘the usual’ is much more dire than I realized.”

He frowned when the lord seemingly backed down. Yes, he was displeased, but not with Drake - merely with the situation at hand. “Drake,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I appreciate your counsel; in fact, I prefer to have it. I would much rather openly discuss any and all issues rather than have you attempt to spare my feelings.”

He let that sink in, giving Drake a long moment to fully take it in. Then, he addressed Drake’s offer to hunt or to ride together. “But to answer your last question: yes, I would enjoy that as well.”

Drake placed his chin between his thumb and index finger, a resting point for him as he reflectively spoke aloud. “I fancy myself a man of fanciful persuasion. Cursed is an apt description for such a man. No offense to the guy, he seems to mean well but sometimes his actions either land short or cause horrendous consequences.”

It was here the Prince seemed to put on an air of dissatisfaction with the implications of Drake’s words. But Drake couldn’t help but notice the compliment Wulfric paid him just before. To have someone of Prince Danrose’s prestige consider Drake’s opinion to be a worthwhile one, well Drake couldn’t help but feel slightly giddy at the thought. But he straightened his composure all the same and addressed the slight concern.

“Not to say things are more dire than before, but it could very well lead that way. It definitely feels like some things may be stirring beneath the surface. Call me paranoid but I can’t help but think this recent chaos is but the tip of the iceberg.” He stopped for a moment to enjoy his beverage, and let loose a relaxed breath. “But with people like you at the helm it’s this country's only shot at pushing back any ill-wishing third parties. So to that I offer my utmost support at any time.” Drake raises his glass in a form of toast to Wulfric.

Wulfric huffed. “Yes, I am not surprised such a descriptor for Lorenzo strikes your fancy.” He nodded at Drake’s following words. “That has been my impression as well. And I do not like the feeling of what might be underlying.” He raised his own glass, and with a delicate motion, lightly knocked it against the lord’s. “To destroying the country’s enemies, and to bringing order and prosperity to our citizens,” he toasted. “I appreciate your support, Drake. That said, are there any specific concerns or information you would like to bring to my attention?”

Drake clanked his glass against Wulfric’s, enjoying the toast and nodding in agreement. Then as he posed his question he thought on what exactly he knew would be relevant for the man. “About the country’s enemies? Sadly nothing much, yet. I might have to dust off the old trenchcoat and try out some investigative work like our favorite novel detective.” He chuckled at the idea, but his tone definitely contained a slightly serious tone. “I suppose there is one concern of mine. I sadly came across some tabloids, really should avoid the damned things. But a headline about Callum being beaten in an alley made me worry for his health. But obviously that’s not the only thing…”

Drake hesitated for a moment, and added an addendum to his original thought. “Just know I hope this part doesn’t stir any grand reaction. I merely tell you out of respect - not distaste or malcontent. But it would appear that your brother fancies my sister - or more aptly - she fancies him. Still working out the details myself. But this is all rather new - so please take it with a grain of salt.”

Wulfric nodded at Drake’s reply. “If you come across something, let me know.” He issued a grumbling noise at the mention of Callum. “He is fine - or so he claims,” his tone of voice said it all for him. He didn’t believe for a second that his brother was ‘fine’. At times, he suspected his addiction had already begun rotting his brain. By the Gods, it better hadn’t. “Apparently, he’d been out picking a fight for some reason,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I do not know why; I wish I understood him better.” Or rather, he wished Callum wouldn’t act in such a bizarre manner. He had but faint hope that his brother’s involvement in a charity project would help in that regard.

Even though Drake was exceedingly cautious in relaying his next piece of information, Wulfric merely nodded. “Yes, I have noticed them get along at the Princes’ Court, and have heard some rumours after the Tea Party. By how some people describe it, those two might as well already be in a relationship,” he drawled, subtly mocking how easily the public jumped to conclusions. “Personally, I do not mind even if they do begin to court. I am unsure about my parents, but I suspect your mother at least would view Callum as a corruptive influence on Ariella.” He tilted his head, studying Drake for a beat. “However, I would caution that if that is your concern too, your sister most likely knows what kind of man my brother is already, and still wishes to get closer.” He believed the young lord would get the point; Ariella was surely no naive lady being led astray.

The man nodded. “Well, firstly, I am glad he is okay. I was merely making sure one of the three princes of the throne wasn’t casually beaten to death in all honesty. But you make a point - sometimes he does seem to simply incur the wrath of passersby.” Drake frowned, wondering just what it might be that drives the man to find himself in such scenarios. At the mention of his mother, even Drake had to throw a side glance in an awkward direction. As if he was avoiding the idea of thinking about her. “Unfortunately, you are not far off the mark. I don’t think he would be a corrupting influence per se. I just…” He sighed. “My sister, as you say, is very capable. She has handled our mother’s scrutiny for her entire life. I would love to support her, to give her everything I can to make her have a great life and all - it just seems as of late that my words mean very little to her.”

Drake paused to take a drink, reflecting back to the argument they had earlier in the evening. “Frankly, I do not particularly care who she courts so long as they treat her right and fairly. But if a man is not even worried about his own well being then how can I even begin to think he’ll take care of others in his life, such as my sister?” His words, albeit pointed, were the real concern behind this entire topic. He raised his hand and closed his eyes for a moment, as if to calm his nerves slightly. “Apologies. That was rather direct of me to say. Perhaps I am overthinking the whole debacle. What say you, Wulfric? Yours is a counsel I could probably use, in all honesty.”

Wulfric listened to the man as he said his piece. “No…it is a valid concern. I doubt Callum is aware how his reckless and nonchalant attitude could have consequences for someone else.” The prince grew thoughtful as he considered how Callum had been concerned for Anastasia, and even for Fletcher after the whole party debacle. However, after the initial shock had worn off, had his brother brushed off the event? He was uncertain. “I will say that if given the chance, Callum would do what he could to protect someone close to him.” Now, whether his youngest sibling was able to protect someone else was another matter entirely. Wulfric didn’t fault Drake for having his doubts.

He huffed and took a sip of his drink as the lord asked for counself. “Well, I can say that trying to parent your siblings doesn’t work. Believe me, I have tried for years,” he drawled. He issued a prolonged exhale. “Auguste is very good with them, you know?” Wulfric offered. “From what I’ve observed, it is a combination of exceeding patience, a wealth of empathy, and very gentle, kind expressions of concern that rarely make the other party defensive.” He shrugged, swirling the drink within his glass. “If nothing else, suggest she takes up self-defense. She might appreciate learning such a thing ‘in secret’, and it is a good skill to have.”

“Speaking of your sister, is she attending Lord Ravenwood’s event?”

Drake gave the prince a smirk at his suggestion. “You know what, that isn’t a bad idea. Might just have to suggest that to her in passing. She is the type to keep her little secrets.” He crossed his arms in mild contemplation as he thought of just what kind of self defense she might try to learn, given her history of charms, trinkets, and potions. But once Wulfric posed his second question Drake took no hesitation in providing a vague yet hopefully satisfactory answer.

“Oh, as much as she would love to, I believe she is somewhere around here. Likely not in the gown mother picked for her and even more likely hiding away until she feels she has paid her pittance in ‘time wasted’ at such an event. She begged me not to hound her tonight so I am letting her have her space as such.” Although only a white lie, it still did not feel great coming from Drake’s mouth in order to keep his sister’s whereabouts covered. The young duke figured this would be the perfect test for Prince Callum to prove he is capable of looking after his dear sister, if anything.

“Is it safe to assume Prince Callum is there or is he off on his own adventure this evening?”

“You do that.” For a moment, Wulfric wondered how the suggestion would be met by Ariella, but dismissed it as none of his business. Drake’s explanation on his sister’s whereabouts received a hum of faux interest. The prince thought it likely that Ariella was at the other event - or perhaps, might escape to it later on. However, at least for now, it wasn’t his problem. If all went well, it wouldn’t become one in the future.

“Oh, yes, I am certain Callum is at Ravenwood’s gathering,” he replied casually. “It is…his kind of thing, so to say. Thankfully, I know Varians generally take good care of their guests.” Naturally, he expected there to be intoxication. Northern Varians had strange herbs they smoked - or was it herbal infusions they drunk? Either way, it should be nothing like Delronzo’s party. Of course, his siblings were prone to finding their own sources of trouble. With a silent sigh, Wulfric took another sip of alcohol to alleviate the tension he could feel creeping up on him.

Noticing the tension in the man’s composure, Drake’s expression softened and tinked his glass onto Wulfric’s in a mock toast of sorts. The Duke-to-be took his mask off, and looked at the Prince with a genuine grin as he spoke. ”Whatever troubles find us in the eve, may they be lesser in the morrow.” He raised his glass once more, only fragments of the original drink even left at this point. ”To the future of this country, and to the good health of those we care about.”

Drake clinked glasses with Wulfric and continued their idle chit-chat until something would pry one away from the other. He felt a sense of ease from having spoken to the man, and was grateful for the opportunity for the night to not be a complete wash in terms of social interaction. As for what the rest of the night had in store, well, that was yet to be seen.