Helo

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Lord Leo Smithwood

Time: Morning
Location: Edin’s Tea Party
Interactions:
Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter.

Leo, who had long since mastered the art of blending in, stood in the company of a small group of very chatty nobles. It was easy enough to claim a sore threat and only respond with nods, head shakes, and exaggerated looks. He held a cup of tea in one hand, hoping, although he knew it to be in vain, that the hot bitter liquid was the cure for the odd condition he found himself in today.

"I-Indeed! My heart overflows with compassion for the poor and downtrodden." King Edin was speaking again, some charity event was being discussed between the king and his sons. Nothing particularly funny, not even interesting, but explosive laughter was threatening to break loose. His face slowly turned red from trying to hold it back. He sought a mouthful of tea to try and choke the laughter back down.

"My dear friends, rejoice with me, for today brings a glimmer of hope and positive change to our kingdom!"

Leo was merely lucky enough to have the good sense of turning his head away from any innocent bystanders before he sputtered the mouthful of tea out in a fit of hysterical, uncontrolled, high-pitched, laughter.

It lasted the entity of Edin’s speech and continued for several minutes before abruptly ending. His face, neck, and ear all remained a shade of bright red from the sheer embarrassment and horror at having just laughed through the speech of Caesonia’s king. It seemed attending today’s tea party had been a mistake.

“Apologies, I am not myself today.” Leo’s unfamiliar voice squeaked out his announcement after a soft clearing of his throat.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning
Location: Papa Edin’s big important tea party!
Interactions: Wulfric @Silverpaw

Why was Wulfric walking over here? Callum caught sight of his brother’s movement. If anything he expected a subdued reaction of disappointment, or annoyance, from his eldest brother. Wulfric wasn’t supposed to join in.

Mind your business Wulfy. But Wulfric was not minding his own business, instead he was helping, and that was probably the most irritating thing Wulfric could do. He had only a blank stare to greet his brother with now. Doubt crept in; if Wulfric was in favor of this, had Callum made the wrong move?

I did not ask for your help. The aggravation only built. This was his supposed to his move, all on his own, and having it backed up by someone in league with Edin was ruining it.

“If you have so much energy to spare, I expect you can take charge of the very next charity, hm?”

Wulfric went too far, ruffling his hair. Callum moved to swat his brother’s hand away from his head because if they weren’t playing by ‘hands to yourself’ rules he wasn’t taking that.

The younger brother’s sluggish reflexes coupled with the elder brother’s far quicker reaction times, prevented him from making contact. Probably best not to assault the heir at a public event, no matter how annoying a brother he was.

“It would be an honor to serve the people.” He said it as cordially as possible, and he knew he couldn’t let his animosity toward Wulfric ruin what he wanted to see done. Like he couldn’t handle organizing a charity event? How hard could it even be; a bunch of people give you money, and then you give that money back to other people. Simple.

“Leaving Lady Damien’s side just to chat me up? This is exactly why you don’t have a wife yet, Wulfy.” Cal only smiled, as politely as he could, and whispered back a snide remark to his brother, who seemed to be trying to get him to back down with threats of paperwork.

Avalia

Time: Breakfast time!
Location: River Port; Malachi’s mom’s house
Interactions: Malachi@princess, Jun@JJ Doe, Enstille@GingerBobOh, Kenia@Tae
Equipment: A halberd, (always with him) hunting knife, and half-plate armor (left in the room).

---

Zion’s ears twitched at the sudden scream from Enstille, a confused wrinkling of lines around his eyes and forehead followed as the elf moved to chomp down on the fork while Zion still held it. Elves certainly had strange customs, but Zion only let go of the fork and patted Enstille on the shoulder.

“You are full of surprises. But not rude, and I hope I have not been either. We just agreed that onions in the eggs were a very gross addition.” Zion flashed a toothy smile, Enstille was trying not to be rude, putting far more effort into the endeavor than Malachi, and Zion was just happy to see someone else make an effort. He noticed Kenia was also picking out the onions.

“We can leave all the unwanted onions on a plate for Malachi since he wishes to repel everyone from him, this will help.” Zion suggested and his eyes moved from the two elves to the now unattended spray bottle Malachi had left behind. Zion was firmly against the spritzing of the skittish Jun, being dosed with water was a step too far, it instinctually agitated the cat. He could just hide it from Malachi…

Kenia, who he learned had multiple homes, asked about his time in River Port. "River Port is a delightful city, the sun is a constant companion here, makes for excellent weather for training. And the food, best Sarelion in all of Avalia.” Zion answered, his stomach roared at the thought of the grilled fish, he still needed to grab his breakfast. His attention returned to the spray bottle that perched perilously near a table’s edge. Without even realizing it, the lion had slowly moved closer to the bottle.

He knew he really should leave Malachi’s stuff alone but feline instinct seized hold. He lifted a mighty paw, one sift motion and the lion had swatted the spray bottle from where it sat to the floor where it skittered a path across the kitchen. Malachi’s spray bottle now lay in pieces scattered about the kitchen floor surrounded by a puddle of spilled water. Zion grinned to himself, almost as if he’d swiped a bird down from the sky. He could clean that up later, now it was time for breakfast.

"This is Malachi's neighbor," Zion told Enstille, not sure what to say about 'special circumstances', but he did know he couldn't just tell Kenia they were training a human. "I doubt Kenia wants to hear about Jun's adventurer training. The fella that ran into you earlier, he's still city-soft and we are helping him with that." Zion offered as close to the truth as he could while he built up a plate of eggs, minus the onions, and breakfast meats.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning
Location: Papa Edin’s big important tea party!
Interactions: Edin @Princess
Mentions: Wulfric @Silverpaw


The music of the courtyard shifted, and the entrance of the king was announced without words. Before the man himself was seen, a parade of the kingdom's most beautiful faces and highly skilled dancers proceed Edin. The young prince watched, waited, and felt anticipation run like a live current through his veins.

Cal did the last thing anyone who knew him would expect; he clapped with unbridled enthusiasm upon Edin’s big grand entrance.

“Yes, indulge in the decadence of this city’s finest confections.” Callum, rather loudly, spoke up, building off the king’s words. He continued the performative applause as he paced around the king and his knights in a wide circle, weaving through tables.

“What a delightful kingdom, what an exquisite king.” He added and abruptly stopped clapping. He felt his eldest brother’s eyes burning through him from the moment Cal had spat air through the trumpet, so when his pacing brought him close to his brother’s table, he offered a twisted smile. He doubted even Wulfric could guess his plan for this event.

“And as we all indulge, let’s remember that in a kingdom that so easily offers every extravagance and comfort imaginable, we still have so many who can’t afford bread, let alone cakes.” Cal glanced around at not only Sorian’s but the world’s most fortunate people. He forced himself to smile as he continued on with his performance.

“But what a generous king we have, and my heart swells to announce that my father is here to make a commitment to feeding Caesonia’s people. A commitment to fund stalls that will feed people free of charge, and to make events like Pancakes in the Park a more permanent feature. A weekly event, where one of the city’s masters of the culinary arts will feature their most extravagant dishes for the public, free of charge, so that every Caesonian will have the chance to indulge with us. In all of history, never has a king’s generosity matched what His Royal Majesty has envisioned. Please, a round of applause for such a noble king.”

Callum attempted to back Edin into a corner. The prince left the king with few options; sure Edin could go right ahead and call Cal a liar, show the world that every nice thing Callum had just said about his father was a lie, and let the world see a glimpse of the true Edin. Or the king could embrace the lie Cal had told, accept the applause and reputation boost Callum had offered up. Either option was one Cal could use, but a public agreement from Edin to do more to feed the people, was worth not only the performance but the foul taste of making false claims of generosity on his father's behalf.

Cal was almost certain Edin would choose a lie that stroked the ego over truth any day.

Callum then looked directly into Edin’s eyes and felt not even a hint of the fear that used to bubble up. The fear was gone, only hatred remained. “Sincerest apologies for the early announcement, but this just felt like the perfect moment, and now all these wonderful people can better celebrate your kind spirit.” Callum bowed and smiled as he waited for Edin’s response, but nothing in the young prince’s eyes matched his tone. There was only hate as he met Edin’s eyes, and an attempt to stare at the king with the somber and disapproving expression Cal often saw in portraits of George.

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Forest; Near Gaurav Village
Interactions: Viola@13org, Phia@princess, Darius@FunnyGuy, Dante@Alivefalling, Menzai@samreaper
Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.

---

“We will not be prisoners.” Cyrus nodded his absolute agreement toward Viola. It seemed likely that the situation would continue to escalate, and Cyrus too would choose to fight over losing freedom. Ulysus seemed unwilling to listen to those around him until the wolf who had lost an arm spoke up. Cyrus watched as the smaller, injured, wolf commanded the larger wolf’s attention. He nodded slowly; this was good, the one they would need to talk to seemed less hostile than the rest of the demi-wolves here.

“The one who lost an arm seems to be in charge, and he is close to Ophelia,” He quietly pointed out to Viola. “When he is feeling better, I think he is the one to ask about Phia. What do think about the other two?” He looked over to Dante and Darius. “Not elves, elves don’t pull hands up from the earth, can’t make dust storm or rocks fly…” He added, but he did not ask anyone other than Viola, it didn’t seem like something that should be questioned and discussed too openly. The only thing he could think of to explain their strange magic was something that hadn’t existed on Avalia for a very long time if the old human tales were to be believed.

He studied his older sister, wondering what she thought of encountering nearly forgotten heroes from myths. He looked back at his younger sister and wondered how she’d found herself in such strange company. All that wondering, all that uncertainty brought into focus how far they’d all been pulled apart. There was once a time when he wouldn’t have needed to wonder these things, and now he would have to question a strange to better know who his own sister was.

But a couple of weeks ago he wasn’t sure he had any family left, and now Cyrus had the chance to get to know two of his sisters, so he smiled in a torn-up forest surrounded by so many broken trees.

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Southwest of Roshmi City
Interactions: Rue@Potter, Bardulf@Lava Alckon, Bridgette@Tae, Mister Luum@FunnyGuy, and Zeva@Pink Khione
Equipment:Sword, hunting knife, a backpack with supplies, and a stoat named Raze who naps in the pocket of his vest.

---

With a deep sigh and an eye roll that he didn’t bother to hide, Bowyn only watched Luum continue trying to sell that this was all just one big heroic adventure. If Zeva bought it, that was her problem. Either way, the only thing Bowyn was making his problem, was ensuring Zeva didn’t sell them out the second they stepped foot in Roshmi City. Heading into such a highly populated city was already enough to set him on edge; too many dark elves there and at least half of their party had bounties on their heads, not to mention the human.

Bowyn looked from Luum, who had offered to train Zeva in light magic, to Zeva who declined the offer. He looked as if he had something to say about that, but only made a disapproving grunt before heading back over to Rue and Bardulf. If he’d seen anything in Zeva worth calling an ally it had vanished. If the young elf truly grasped the severity of what they faced she would not turn down strengthening her arsenal so quickly. Luum had invented her, so Luum could play babysitter.

The rest of the walk to Roshmi was uneventful, and soon the eyesore that was a large statue of Zanithel cast its oppressive shadow over the group. “A majestic lion or steadfast turtle would be an improvement over that ugly mug.” He muttered, eyeing the statue. As Mister Luum suggested splitting up he turned to Rue and dropped his voice to a whisper. “If we’re splitting up, at least one of us should keep an eye on Zeva.” There was no guarantee she wouldn’t turn them all in the first chance she got and it wasn’t worth the risk.

Bowyn lifted the hood of his cloak to better hide his own face as Bardulf voiced his concern. “Hood up, head down. Keep those weird ears hidden and act like your better than everyone, most folks should just assume you’re an elf. You might be able to snag a cheap disguise ring on the black market too.” He advised the human, but Bowyn didn’t sound entirely confident. It seemed too big a risk to send the human into a large, heavily occupied city just for a day of shopping and lounging around.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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

Cal clapped his hands together in excitement as Ezra accepted his offer. “You heard the man, let’s grab that carriage, we’ve got treats to deliver.” He addressed his guards and assisted them with loading up the freshly purchased treats. He even held the door open for Ezra, grinning the whole time. Then Ezra, Cal, and a handful of guards headed to the tea party, making a single stop along the way for Callum to purchase a trumpet. He spent most of the remaining carriage ride attempting to figure out how to make the shiny brass contraption produce sound.

The royal gardens were filled with people, the sort of people who were content enjoying everything Edin offered them and turning their heads to the king’s every depraved action. The weapons checkpoint was new, it gave Callum a slight grin as he thought about how Edin was already showing the guests how little the crown trusted them.

Cal had no weapons to turn over to Wystan and he gave the bodyguard a nod and a polite smile. The youngest prince had only a trumpet and a small stack of boxes from the bakery carried under one arm. He wasn’t sure if they’d let him with the trumpet though. He paused, noted Wulfric speaking to someone, and while his brother was distracted now, he’d certainly take the trumpet from Callum if he saw.

He’d just have to start his grand entrance now.

With the trumpet pressed against his lip, a strange sputtering of air, and an entirely random finger positioning upon the trumpet’s valves; he attempted to play the instrument. The sound it produced was loud and obnoxious, a collection of off-key notes that did not belong together.

“Beautiful people of Caesonia, The Prince of Onions and Ezra Turner, master baker, the greatest in Caesonia, have arrived!” The peace that existed in the royal gardens was abruptly ended by Cal’s shouting. “And we have brought an extravagant collection of cakes, cookies, cupcakes, and…oh is that brownies I smell?” He then placed the trumpet down for Wystan and offered himself up for a pat down.

“Keep that safe for me, sounds like I’ve got a lot of practicing to do.” He patted the trumpet. If Edin hated the sound of a well-played trumpet, he had a feeling the constant sound of him attempting to play, in the middle of the night, might just be downright unbearable. Once he was allowed in, Callum began serving the variety of treats he carried with him to the guests.

Avalia

Time: Morning
Location: Forest; Near Gaurav Village
Interactions: Viola@13org, Phia@princess, Darius@FunnyGuy, Dante@Alivefalling, Menzai@samreaper
Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.

---

"Unprovoked hostility... It threatens us, brother."

“It does,” he agreed but continued to focus more on the tree than the wolf. Cyrus continued with his goal to heal at least one tree, only returning to Viola’s side once he saw new growth forming. Though many people spoke, Cyrus looked first toward Viola. “I think we frighten him.” He said shrugging off the wolf’s aggression as the acts of a frightened animal. He looked back at the big wolf Ulysus, “Do you dislike all travelers or is there some issue between your village and the River Fairy Kingdom we are unaware of?” He asked, trying to pinpoint where the hostility stemmed from.

“We're not fighting, right?”

“We are not fighting now. But when we did it was on the same side. If you are all friends of Phia’s, that need not change.” Cyrus pointed out, both for Viola and Ulysus’s benefit; it was not in their best interest to fight with Phia’s allies, unprovoked hostility or not.

Then Phi spoke up, and Phia spoke with authority. “Did you hear that?” He leaned closer and whispered to Viola, words kept hidden but the joy in them extended to his smile. “Her voice knows what the mind has forgotten. Phia now speaks with the authority of a princess, part of her remembers.” He continued to smile even as it became clear that Ulysus was not swayed by the other’s words.

As Ulysus moved toward both Viola and him, Cyrus moved to stand between his sister and the wolf. A protective gesture but not for Viola’s sake; if Ulysus continued his threatening behavior, it would not end well for the wolf.

“Your threats bother my sister, you will stop them.” His tone was soft but stern, not so much a threat as it was a warning. “Now if all you want is to spend some time with us, I am happy to oblige, but understand, while we mean you and your village no harm, we will not be in anyone’s custody. It is a civil conversation, or we are done speaking with you.” Cyrus extended a hand to Ulysus after offering what he saw as a reasonable compromise. He would not willingly sacrifice his freedom to appease a hostile wolf, and he had a feeling Viola, rightfully, would not respond well to such a thing either.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Evening Sola 22, 1739: Callum & Riona Part 3

Callum & Riona

---

Riona strode back to the main room, a bag of tea clutched in her hand, when her feet stopped at the door to the Gardener’s room. A rush of memories flooded her mind, resurrecting the ghostly echoes of her early months with Gardner—those endless days stained with the scent of alcohol and the tang of whatever concoction of drugs he chose to indulge in that day wafted from his being. On most days, the smell was something sweet and pungent, on other days it was just acrid. Her being ten, Gardner had the decency to conceal his vices from her. Still, even as a child, she understood that these substances were an attempt to numb the ache in his heart.

At first, Riona empathized with him: she lost her home and he lost the love of his life, Lord Dantès. Had it not been for the spell, she might’ve shared the same vices he had. Because unlike Callum, she didn’t desire to be hurt in the sense that he did, she had to be.

But when she discovered that Gardner had been the catalyst for their deaths, the disgust she felt bordered on loathing. How dare he run from his guilt? He deserved to suffer. She made sure that happened and he allowed it to happen. Because like Callum, he wanted to be hurt. After all, what better penance than to be punished by the only survivor of a tragedy he caused? As he withered away on his deathbed, he thanked her, and in return, she promised him that the crowns would burn in the same fiery inferno they burned her home with.

From a distance, Riona watched Callum. Hesitation gnawed at her. She wasn’t sure if she could tell him everything, but if he no longer feared losing his family, then maybe she could at least tell him the other reason why she worked as a maid for so long.

As she began tea preparations, Riona asked, “Do you remember asking me why I stay here?”

“I do. And unless this is some closely guarded secret tea recipe, I would like to help.”

“I wouldn’t call it a closely guarded secret, but making a good cup of tea actually takes skill, believe it or not.” She angled her chin at the cauldron. Despite being on castle grounds, the Gardener’s house didn’t have access to clean water so they always had to go through the painstaking process of removing impurities. “I got water boiling with crushed seeds in there. Can you pour it through cheesecloths then pour the filtered water into the teapot?” She pinched some of the herbs and spices from the table and tossed them into a mortar and pestle.

He nodded, it sounded like a simple task. Cal still managed to mess it up, but not horribly. Pouring a cauldron of water through cheesecloth with clumsy hands resulted in a lot of splashing and a small puddle on a table. “Wait, did you say pour it onto the table or into the teapot?” He joked as he fumbled around looking for something to wipe up the spilled water. Once he’d cleaned up the spill, pouring the water into the teapot was easier.

“What? The table, obviously. We slurp our tea directly from tables in this household.”

After crushing the plants with the pestle and mixing the loose tea leaves into the blend, Riona suddenly confessed, “I came here to destroy the Danroses.” She watched for signs of fear, anger, anything to suggest that Callum’s resolve to “go as far as he can” wavered; curious as to how he’d interpret “destroy.”

Callum glanced in her direction, waiting for her to say something else, and found her studying him like he was supposed to be shocked, or maybe upset, at hearing something he had figured out a long time ago. Cal tried not to laugh, he really did, but a wheezy chuckle escaped anyway. It made his ribs hurt. “Sorry, it’s just, I mean I’m not brain dead, Riona. Obviously, you’re not here because you’ve dreamed of severing the crown, you’re vastly talented and smarter than most doctors and scholars in this city. Tons of other things you could be doing, if you wanted to.” He brought the teapot over to her. She thanked him and put the blend into the teapot, flipping a small hourglass once she covered the lid.

Considering their first interaction was her attempting to choke him, Riona guessed the declaration didn’t come as a surprise, but she had a feeling that Callum didn’t think she had it in her to do the extreme. How far did he think she’d be willing to go?

“I’m not going to stand in your way, I am rooting for my friend. Do what you need to do, let me know if I can help.” He remembered their conversation the other night at the ball. He’d asked her why she didn’t want to be happy either and her answer had been her family It was obvious enough that whatever the rest of that explanation was, it was deeply painful. Not a wound he wanted to pry open, but Callum knew his family well enough to know; whatever it was they’d done, they deserved to suffer the consequences.

“Even if it means murdering them?” She tested him. “All of the Danroses?”

“You’re a good person, Riona, the best person I know. I trust your judgment more than my own and I don’t think you would kill anyone. Without a reason. I can see all the reasons why Edin and Alibeth deserve it, but I don’t see those things in my siblings. Not yet, not in a way that’s beyond hope. If you see reasons I can’t, I’m not going to stop you, but if it’s my siblings, I just don’t know if I can do anything more than stay out of the way.” All of them. That was the part that gave pause. Cal couldn’t hate his siblings like that, he didn’t know if he ever could, but if they stood in the way of something better, he wouldn’t fight for them either.

When he said she was a good person, Riona shook her head in reflex. She, more than anyone, knew how far she was from the person Callum believed her to be.

“But if, well I guess it’s really more of a when, it comes down to you or them, I know where my loyalties lie. Not with the shitty family I got dealt, but the friend who’s been there for me every time I needed her even if I didn’t deserve it. And when it’s me, that’s okay too. And I’ll swear to that on anything you want me to.” There wasn’t doubt in his words, but speaking them drained the light from his eyes. He tried to smile and found only a heavy sigh.

A less heavier version of his sigh escaped Riona. She was about to apologize for dimming the light in him, then stopped herself. The fire gorged on his misery. She can’t stop it without putting out the fire. She can’t do that or all would be for nothing. “Thank you, Cal. That means so much to me.” The last grain of sand dropped into the hill in the hourglass, prompting Riona to strain the tea as she poured it into two cups.

“So if what you want is to destroy all of the Danroses, why didn’t you kill me?”

“When your parents killed everyone in my hometown, I swore I’d make them suffer. Take everything away from them, before ending their lives. That night… when it was just you and me… I thought my chance finally came. If you woke up a second later, I would’ve choked you to death.” She picked up Callum’s cup and placed it on the surface closest to him. “But you opened your eyes… I chickened out and…” Riona smiled weakly. “And I’ve been wondering why ever since. I could’ve still done it, but I couldn’t. Maybe my resolve was weak. Maybe it suddenly hit me that poisoning a suicidal man and strangling a sick boy were entirely different.”

She met his eyes. “Maybe your father’s blue eyes terrified me. Maybe it’s because I saw nothing but loneliness in them. Maybe… I saw a piece of me in you and I just didn’t want to lose what little was left of the girl my family loved. Maybe it’s all of that or maybe it’s none of it. I don’t know why I couldn’t kill you that day.” Riona looked at Callum apologetically. This probably wasn’t the clearcut answer he was hoping for.

“I do know why I don’t want to kill you now, though. It’s actually pretty simple: you’re my friend. I want my friends to find happiness, even if some don’t think they deserve to find it, I still want them to be happy. Because without them, my life would’ve been unbearable.” Riona clasped his hands and kept her gaze locked on him so that he knew without a doubt that the feeling was mutual. “Thank you for being there for me, Cal.”

“I’ll never ask you to murder your siblings.” As infuriating as they could be, and as much as they reminded her of their parents and Lady Morrigan on occasion, the royal children haven’t stooped to the same level as their parents, grandparents, or great grandparents. Yet.

“But I want—no, need—your help stripping the royal title from the Danrose family.”

“You’re welcome, and I’m glad you did try and strangle me, I got a really great friend out of it.” Cal gave her hands a soft squeeze. “One with great hands, always trying to pull me back up, way more times than they ever tried to put me in the ground.” He added before letting go, he didn’t want Riona to think he’d asked because he felt any animosity over that.

The answer Riona had given him was just as mixed up and confusing as most of his own explanations and that was strangely comforting. Not enough to balance out how unsettling it was to hear his parents not only had an entire town killed but had also managed to keep something like that a secret.

“But strip royal titles away from just Danroses?” Callum paused, shook his head, and grinned. “If we’re already talking treason, might as well aim higher, can’t just leave it open for someone else to become the new Danroses.” He picked up the cup of tea and sniffed at it, which killed any desire to actually drink it. “No titles, no nobility, no royals. I’d like to ruin their whole system.” He downed the tea like a shot, it burned his tongue but even that did nothing to mask the taste. The brief flash of disgust on his face didn’t match his words.

“Did you poison someone?” He wondered out loud, thinking over everything she’d said. She stared at her cup as an answer. “Nevermind, hardly matters. If you need justice, vengeance, payback, whatever you want to call it, I’m in for that too, whatever you need, whoever needs to suffer.” As long as his siblings were off the table, he had no issues promising that either. “You’re a mongoose, Riona, and nothing would make me happier than helping clear out snakes.”

Quack and his group of anarchists flashed across her mind. “No titles, no nobility, no royals. I’d like to ruin their whole system.” Riona nodded slowly at the idea. Without anyone else left to take the mantle, maybe it was better for Caesonia to get rid of the peerage system entirely. She won’t be able to see that future once King Edin and Queen Alibeth are dead, but she could still contribute. “That sounds like a terrible idea. Let’s do it.”

The only worry she had revolved around the void that would be created. While Callum and Quack dreamed of a kingdom without a king, Riona knew that without some form of order, things would quickly spiral out of control, putting the most vulnerable—the very individuals they aimed to safeguard—at the mercy of wolves. Without titles, inevitably opportunistic individuals, who, with their wealth or brute force, would take control. People didn’t need noble titles to be entitled selfish a**holes. If Callum and Quack were going to take down this system in its entirety, they needed another system that wouldn’t just exchange a noble pile of sh*t with an ignoble pile of sh*t.

“One step at a time, though. How do you plan to achieve that?”

“First step’s an easy one, right now we’ve got all sorts of powerful people here, at least a few of them already don’t like Edin. I’m going to make his every enemy, my new friend. And I’m gonna make sure the rest see Edin for what he really is. No one wants an unhinged king for a neighbor.” His goal was too much for one or even two people, So whatever allies he could gather, he was going to need that. It only made sense to weaken Edin’s standing in return. He didn’t stop there either, Callum paced around the table letting thoughts escape with every breath. His chewed-up fingernails scrapped against the flaking, peeling skin around his nails.

“Bigger step, drag out every dark secret they’re hiding into the light. All of it, and I don’t even know all of it, yet. Shit Riona, you’re whole town? Murdered? There’s a difference between knowing they could, and knowing that they have. Whatever they’ve done that they want kept hidden, we need to find out. The people need to know every action their crown has taken that does not serve its people. And we’ll keep showing them they deserve better until they’re ready to fight for it too.” Cal stopped pacing and looked down at the cut across his left hand and smiled. He lifted his hand to show the cut across his palm again. Pride worked its way onto his next words, he’d already found a powerful ally.

“I wasn’t alone last night, I asked for Claero’s help and He answered. I have worshipped many gods in my life but I have never felt one with me, He likes me. I get it now; where change comes from, it’s chaos. The force that clears out the old so that what comes next has a chance.” He saw it in a dream, it was a truth that lit up a god's eyes, Claero’s eyes. “So that’s what’ve got right now.” The fervor waned from his voice, if there was anyone he could trust to point out the flaws in his plans it was her.

The sound tore through her throat, raw and unrestrained. Ríoghnach’s throat burned as hot as the sea of flames her home had become. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the sweat and blood that coated her. Even though each breath she took brought her closer to her last, she kept screaming. Her wails pierced the air, fueled by pain, fear, rage, and despair. She prayed to the Gods, any entity, whatever force that would listen, to save them. She screamed until the very end… and was met with deafening silence.

No legendary hero emerged at the eleventh hour to vanquish the forces of evil as the storybooks promised, and no benevolent or malevolent deity intervened. No one came to their aid in their time of need. Her cries for help or justice went unanswered. They were slaughtered in cold blood, the streets flooded red… but one cut from a knife and a God answered Callum’s prayers?

Riona drew in a shuddering breath, bit the inside of her cheek, and swallowed hard. Her voice cracked at her first word, so she had to clear her throat before trying again. “The Danroses did anything and everything to hide their secrets, you’re going to have a hard time uncovering them. And I’d be careful with friends who are only your friend because you have a common enemy….” She placed a hand onto her hip. “But I can get behind that plan. I can even help you with both.”

“What if I told you, what you’ve been looking for is hiding in the castle?”

“That would be impressive because I barely know what I am looking for.” Cal smiled as he spoke and he kept smiling because Riona was in on his plans too. It was a good feeling to know he had found someone whose goals aligned with his, neither one of them had to struggle alone, and best of all that person was a friend. He leaned into the warmth of that feeling. He didn’t worry about how difficult it would be to dig up the right kind of dirt to ruin his family or her warning about making friends with Edin’s enemies. He could handle difficult, and he was used to people he couldn’t trust, now he had something that felt worth doing and possible.

The tea swirled around in her cup. “Do you know how many hidden rooms the castle has?” Mapping out these secret chambers was one of the main reasons she remained working as a maid, despite the terrible working conditions. “I haven’t found them all yet and there’s rooms that I have no idea how to get into… but it’s there, their dirty secrets… It has to be.” She instantly grimaced and shivered involuntarily as she forced down the nasty tea. “Gods… that’s… mmm.” She didn’t need to drink it when the tea was meant for Callum’s unstable hands, but she did out of comradery. Misery loving company and all.

Of course, if there was a secret room in the library, of course, there were more. Callum wondered if that had just never occurred to him, or did he just know better than to go looking for things he didn’t want to find?

“As for ‘friends,’ remember Quack?” Riona paused, realizing she wasn’t sure which name Callum might’ve known the man by. “Uh, Sexton Cryer? The guy working in the servant’s infirmary? You might want to talk to him.”

“Explore secret rooms and meet up with Sexton Cryer, codename Quack. And now it all feels very real.” He smiled, to make sure Riona knew he meant that in a good way, and because real felt like having a purpose. He grabbed the page of notes, the last one he’d looked at, and brought it over to Riona. “Since we’re feeling ambitious, I was thinking we could tweak this, try and clean up the water for people who don’t have that, and make at least one of my selfish plans into something better.”

“Just so you know, he’s an actual quack. He was working as the city’s undertaker until a couple years ago. So don’t think you’ll get top notch treatment from him.” Riona searched Callum’s hand for trembles, before accepting the page. She quickly skimmed through the note and nodded, rolling up her sleeves. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Evening Sola 22, 1739: Callum & Riona Part 1

Callum & Riona

---

The night wrapped the old cottage in a comforting darkness, broken only by the gentle glow of oil lamps and candles illuminating the rough-hewn interior. Inside, the scent of aged wood and the faint aroma of herbs lingered in the air, filling Riona with a sense of nostalgia. This was the place she once called home, the former abode of the late Royal Gardener, and now it served as a safe space for her and Callum to delve into their magical studies.

The wooden floor creaked under her footsteps as she moved across the house to retrieve and set down various supplies, handwritten notes, a stack of books, and bundles of scrolls, onto a large, sturdy wooden table close to the hearth where a cauldron was suspended above the flames.

With meticulous care, Riona arranged the items on the worn table, which itself bore the marks of countless experiments, heated debates, and shared laughter. While reaching for a slate board and chalk, she was distracted once again by the beautiful nail art on her fingertips, a delightful reminder of the time she and Sadie spent together pampering themselves. A smile curled on her lips. Though she knew that, as a servant, the nails wouldn’t last long, that only deepened her appreciation for them.

A noise from outside diverted Riona’s attention from her hands to the front door. She stood motionless, her gaze fixed on the entrance, until she heard the familiar sound of a key sliding into the lock. Only one other person had the spare key to the house. She relaxed.

Callum paused at the door, checking again to make sure no one was following him. He’d spent a good bit of time walking around the palace grounds, not close enough to the gates for anyone to think he was leaving. Just a long, moonlit, walk to clear his head. Constantly checking to make sure no one was tailing him and continued wandering until he was absolutely sure. Only then did he head toward the house of the Royal Gardener.

He fumbled with the key, a combination of shaky hands and nerves. Maybe he should’ve had a drink or two beforehand, just to settle things. Maybe he should be concerned that he didn’t feel normal if he wasn’t drunk. Instead, he blamed the day's constant presence of watchful eyes, that was what wasn’t good for him, that’s what kept him rattled all day. Another thing he could hate Alibeth for.

He opened the door, walked inside, and relocked it behind him. The near silence save for the creaking of old doors and floorboards soothed his nerves to murmur. Old buildings could be trusted, they betrayed those who tried to sneak about within them. Only one other person made the floorboards creak here. He looked from Riona to the items carefully arranged on a table. He pulled a glass jar of geshrow root from his pocket and added it to the table.

“Seems like you’ve got something planned.” Callum attempted to smile, teeth clenched a bit too hard and corners of his mouth struggled to lift. He gave up and looked at the cauldron above a steady fire, wondering what might bubble inside it, trying to clear out the rest of his thoughts.

“What.” With a swift motion, she tossed the slate and chalk onto the table. “The.” Each step she took as she moved around the table picked up speed. “F**king.” She marched purposefully toward Callum. “Hells.” When he got into arm’s length, her hands shot forward, seized his head, and yanked it closer to hers. “Cal.” Riona cast a fierce gaze upon the bruises that decorated his face, rotating his head as though she were an appraiser inspecting an object but lacking the delicate touch needed for such an occupation.

“Well,” she began, her voice filled with sarcasm, “I had grand plans to create a revolutionary lozenge that could provide all the necessary daily nutrients for people struggling to eat. But why bother with innovation when we can just focus on healing potions and salves, especially when one of our primary test subjects almost always shows up beaten like a punching bag?”

Drawing Callum’s face even closer to her nose, she sniffed, which caused Riona’s scowl to deepen. “Seeping with alcohol.” And burnt sugar.

Would’ve just stayed home if I knew I was in for another lecture. He didn’t say that aloud, Callum didn’t even roll his eyes, some people didn’t deserve his rudeness. Instead, he offered a simple admission, “did another stupid thing.” He knew that was far from a satisfying explanation but he wasn’t sure how to explain himself without sounding stupid. He tried to pull his head away as soon as the sniffing started. Seeping in alcohol? That was dramatic. But he didn’t comment on that either. He didn’t want to start an argument, didn’t want to ruin how peaceful this place usually felt.

She relinquished his head only to snatch his hands and glare at them instead. The hands quivered within her own. Aside from a few skid marks here and there, the skin on his knuckles was smooth as it was pale. Proof that Callum not once threw back a punch against whoever beat the living crap out of him. His nails looked like they were a nail bite away from extinction. Her thumb traced the mark on the palm of his hand.

Riona’s head snapped up to look at Callum. Without words, the lowly maid asked, demanded, commanded the Gods-Damned-Third-F**king-Prince-of-Caesonia to explain himself. The bruises; the smell; the cut. Anything. Everything.

He tried to pull his hands away too but Riona’s grip was stronger. His hands were inspected as Cal simply gave up on trying to think up a way to explain last night without sounding stupid. It was stupid and he didn’t regret it either.

“If a beating is the punishment for taking people to secret parties, it only seems fair that I get punished too. Right? So I made it happen. And, added bonus, it kind of helped clear things up for me. Now I know for sure; every good thing I thought I saw in Alibeth was a lie. Better not to believe in a lie right? Had to do it.” He shrugged, it wasn’t the outcome he’d hoped for but it was what he’d come to expect.

Riona’s eyes remained on him, stunned, as heat began to rise within her. A wave of anger swept over her, directed at the people who hurt Callum, including Callum himself. She was frustrated by his stupidity, but was equally frustrated that his sister ran to the other extreme. Princess Anastasia didn’t think what happened, or what almost happened to Darryn, was enough to punish herself. It was all about making her feel better. The older Princes’ did nothing to help the situation in any way and Riona’s hate for Queen Alibeth reached new heights. To make matters worse, Lady Morrigan’s haunting voice echoed in the back of her mind telling her something Riona tried to ignore. More than that, she resented herself for even caring. There was sadness there too, though, causing her eyes to sting and her heart to ache, as if being pricked by thousands of tiny needles.

The blend of anger and sadness made Riona’s expression harder to read. Her muscles couldn’t decide which emotion prevailed. She turned slightly away from the source of her conflicting emotions and began kneading the tension knotted in her facial muscles.

“And as a weird guy I met in an alley pointed out, punishments don’t mean anything if I don’t suffer through them, so no healing, and I would much rather help you end starvation.” He tried to smile again but the intensity of Riona’s glare stopped him.

“How convenient that drinking doesn’t count as soothing your suffering.” She snapped before taking a deep calming breath. Riona didn’t want to be like this with him. Not here where all the troubles outside were supposed to stay outside. But the smell that Callum was giving off reminded her too much of the Gardener.

“Yeah well it doesn’t make me feel any better, just more normal.” He said it softly and with the difficulty of ripping up a firmly rooted weed. More than he wanted to admit to was pulled up with it. “And sometimes it just helps me not reach for anything worse.” He stared awkwardly at the fire again, needing to think of something else to talk about.

“Why was Morrigan snooping around my room?” He asked trying to change the subject.

“Aside from making us feel uncomfortable and sniffing out for weaknesses? … I don’t know. To make me leave sooner?” Riona rubbed her arms absentmindedly. “She summoned the servants who were assigned to the ballroom to check that we weren’t consuming anything besides water.” Now that she thought about it, that might’ve been why she wanted to try making the lozenge in the first place.

“I’m sorry they, we, are all so awful.” And that was really all he had to offer, apologies that amounted to nothing. He could ask why but the answer would just boil down to Morrigan just enjoyed being cruel, and the ball had been a disaster, if she even needed a reason. He vaguely remembered being told to get down off a table and shouting about cake. Was this his fault too? Maybe he didn’t ask because he was afraid of the answer.

Riona visibly flinched when Callum corrected himself. “They” was back to “we.”

“Well I know who’s winning prettiest nails today. An unbroken streak of victories.” He looked back at Riona and gestured at her hands. It was an easier thing to say than 'please don’t be mad at me.' “Was today a better day?”

Watching Callum fumble his way out of the awkward conversation, Riona felt the heat subside and she deflated. Her facial expression softened, and her tone became gentler. “It’s not that impressive when you have a saboteur on your team, you know. You still beat me in the ‘better skin’ category.” She lifted her rough hands to show the much more appealing nails, “Sadie and I did our nails today. Maybe we should have you do yours too. Then maybe you’ll think twice about chewing them down to stubs. That or maybe I’ll paint your nails with the nastiest tasting polish ever. Something that’ll make you puke every time your mouth touches them.”

“You think I need more puking? And of all my bad habits, that’s what you're coming for? Nail biting, strange choice.” Cal joked, and he smiled because it did sound like she had a good day. He looked at her hands again, “hmm, yes, very gross, Hands that have done work, terrible.”

Riona paused. Being able to spend time with Sadie reminded Riona how much she valued the friendships she had, even though they got in the way of her goal in the long run. Sadie always managed to quell the ugly thing inside her. Without the blazing heat, the black smoke, there was clarity and there was one simple fact.

Are you forgiving them? The force that wrapped her hands around young Callum’s neck, those many years ago, asked.
No, never.
Then why?
Because. The frail boy slowly blinked his eyes open. Even through the fever induced haze, his blue eyes focused onto her. He watched her, seemingly unfazed by the situation, as if he expected some day this day would come. And he looked so alone... like her. Ríoghnach snapped her hands away. Because he’s not them. None of them are, yet.

If she allowed it, he’d continue to divert the conversation farther away, so if she wanted him to know, she had to say it now. Before the inevitable flames returned. “Let’s make this absolutely clear. I’m angry at you,” she said simply without preamble, “because you hurt my friend.” Her voice slightly quavered saying the word, but rushed to cover it up. “My study buddy, my partner in crime, and an esteemed member of ‘The Only Person I Hate More Than a Danrose is Myself’ club.’” She puffed her chest out as she folded her arms over them in defiance. “You hurt Cal, Callum, and I reserve the right to be pissed at you for it.” Though her glare returned, it was nowhere close as intense as it was moments ago. “If you got a problem with that, you can go suck an egg or whatever.”

“...because you hurt my friend.” Callum nodded. That was fair, he had hurt Darryn, and she was right to be mad at him. Wait, Darryn was in the club too? “You hurt Cal… He was stunned for a moment, unsure of how to react to the rest of that. Was he the friend? Allies, sure but friends? That was supposed to be off the table. It was better that way, he was a bad friend to have. Riona also cared more about him, as an actual person, than his own mother ever did, and had been the most consistent positive force in his life. The word for that didn’t seem to matter, everything else was already there.

“If I’m being honest, a morbid part of me is kind of proud of you. What you did was stupid and ineffective, don’t get me wrong, but it showed you cared and tried to take responsibility… That’s more than any of the other lot ever did.” While she was mainly referring to the Danroses, she was also disappointed by the other nobility. Each and every one of them had the power to protect and they failed to use it for the people who needed it most. Now they pretended the whole Darryn incident never happened and continued to focus on having a good time, pursue courtships, and forget.

“But… I…” Riona searched Callum’s face, “I sometimes wonder if you’re just using us as an excuse.”

That question stung, it prodded uncomfortably close. It wasn’t an unfair question either; he could understand the doubt. “As an excuse? For what?” He asked softly and shrugged. If he had to, he could probably name a dozen different excuses for anything he’d ever done. “An excuse to do stupid things? I do stupid things on whims. An excuse not to act? I was scared, I’m not anymore. I figured it out last night; I’m not afraid of them, or of losing them, anymore.”

“Were you holding back this entire time? That actually explains a lot.” It wasn’t a serious question. Even from their conversation during the ball alone, she knew that Callum had been clinging onto hope for some of his family. It might’ve been the only thing preventing him from taking more drastic actions against them.

“We don’t want a martyr, Callum, we want change. You punishing yourself for every wrongdoing against every single commoner isn’t going to cut it. You’re just one man, and there’s lots of us. You can’t actually take on all the injustices done to us by the Danroses. It’s impractical, temporary, and, quite frankly, insensitive—it makes it sound like you think that your suffering will fix things because you’re more valuable as a person than all commoners combined.” Riona remained surprisingly calm while she spoke. “If you can’t see that, then you were never doing this to help anyone, you’re only doing this for yourself.”

“So really, Callum.” The question that had been circling around her head ever since Lady Morrigan gave her opinions about what Callum wrote. “How serious were you when you carved those words on the wall? Did you just write that in the spur of the moment or was it a vow? … How far are you willing to go now that you aren’t scared anymore?”