Lava Alckon

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Farim

Location:Alidasht Guesthouse
Time: Evening of the 25th
Attire: Robes
Mentions: Anastasia@princess and Hafiz/King Edin


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After the meeting with Wulfric, Farim had half a mind to storm off to his father’s office in a flash of fury. But such notions would hardly be received well, and would only make Hafiz’s responses short, spiteful, and uninformative. So he tempered himself, and rested in his chambers for the remainder of the day. He had lunch prepared and sent to his room, and he took the time to spend some much needed quiet time with Thara. Farim gently preened and cleaned Thara over the course of a few hours, and let her fly around the yard next to his open window for some proper exercise before calling her back inside.

He thought on what he would say. What he wanted to know. How to retort his sickening father’s wicked tongue. The simple lunch of masala curry calmed his nerves and helped him concentrate, but as the time came, he could not help but feel worry welling inside him. Farim placed Thara on her perch and made his walk to the other end of the guest houses where Hafiz would likely be and gave the door one firm knock followed by a single word as a greeting. ”Hafiz.”

The door creaked open with an ominous hiss and there stood Hafiz, his golden robes trailing behind him like the shadow of a viper. His piercing gaze immediately locked onto Farim, cold and calculating. His lips curved into a smile, but it lacked warmth.

“Ah, Farim,” he drawled, his voice smooth yet sharp, “How generous of you to grace me with your presence.”

Farim sported a low-effort grin of his own, which ended up looking more like a smirk than anything else. ”I trust you found my letter just fine, seeing how you have not yet left your office.” He quipped. ”There are some…things I wish to discuss. Shall we?” His hand gestured lightly to the space behind Hafiz - almost like he was asking to be invited without the direct request.

Hafiz raised a single eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with thinly veiled contempt. He stepped aside, the golden embroidery of his coat shimmering under the chandeliers’ soft glow. His eyes never left Farim, assessing him with a predatory intensity. “Discuss, you say?” Hafiz echoed, the mockery in his tone palpable. He let out a chuckle, low and devoid of any mirth, as he gestured for Farim to enter. “Very well, my son. Let us indulge this moment of diplomacy you are so fond of.” His voice lingered on the word “diplomacy” as if it were a bitter taste on his tongue. He stepped back, allowing Farim to pass, though his calculating gaze didn’t soften in the slightest. “I do hope, however,” he continued smoothly, “that what you have to say will not disappoint me. I have little patience for pleasantries and even less for failure.”

Farim entered the dark recesses of Hafiz’s office. His own robes seem to billow ever so lightly to brush against the silken fabrics of the Grand Vizier, a foreshadow of the mental abrasions to come. ”While I find you are disappointed in most of the things I say or do - I shall do my best to impress.” A mocking grin stretched across his face. There was an attempt at stoicism being made by Farim, however it seemed to be a very poor one; doing little to hide his contempt for what he was about to say as he watched the door close.

”Let’s start things off easy. Where is my mother, Hafiz? When was the last time you heard from her?”

The door clicked shut, sealing Farim and Hafiz off from the world. Hafiz’s gaze lingered on his son, taking in his countenance with a look of disdainful amusement. He let out a heavy sigh, more theatrical than genuine, and clasped his hands behind his back, his golden robes rustling as he moved to his ornate desk.

“Disappointment, my son, is an understatement,” Hafiz began, his voice tinged with sorrow. He gestured to a cushioned chair across from him, though his expression made it clear that he was not offering comfort. “You seem to harbor the most distressing thoughts about me. Heartless, cruel… a bad man, even.” He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “And yet, here I am, prepared to indulge your inquiries, despite how little you think of me.”

He reached into a drawer of his desk, retrieving a delicate, yellowed letter sealed with an ornate wax stamp. The handwriting on it bore an uncanny resemblance to that of Farim’s mother. Hafiz let the letter sit between his fingers, turning it over as if inspecting a precious artifact. “Your mother… Ah, yes, I have heard from her.” He placed the letter on the desk with a soft tap, his eyes flicking up to meet Farim’s. “She wrote to me not long ago. Concerned, as always, about your well-being.”

His voice softened,“I can never understand why you insist on believing the worst about me, Farim. I’ve kept this letter safe for you, knowing you’d want to see it. Perhaps it will ease your troubled heart.”

He leaned back, hands steepled in front of him. “Go on, then,” he invited, his voice smooth and paternal. “Read her words. Reassure yourself that your dear mother is well, and that, despite what you believe, I do care for your peace of mind.”

Farim placed his fingers on the letter, a moment of concern, confusion, and skepticism written on his face in a myriad of facial tweaks. But then the man looked at his father blankly. ”You wound me, father” The sarcasm dripped from his lips as he talked. ”How can I think highly of someone whose every other sentence seeks to undermine or belittle everything I am working towards?” His eyebrow arched inquisitively. With that, he took the letter off the desk and began to open it with delicate strokes of his finger.

”Like this letter for instance - how do I know it is not forged? Or that you have kept it for weeks just to use against me at a pivotal moment? How would I even know that it is really her- Hmmm…” Farim’s focus shifted as the contents of the letter were revealed by unfolding the parchment. His eyes scanned the lettering with piqued interest that began to build as his eyes scrawled across the page.

Hafiz observed his son’s skepticism with an amused smirk, the corners of his lips curling just enough to convey his satisfaction. He waited patiently, watching as Farim unfolded the letter, knowing full well what his son would find. His voice broke the silence, smooth and almost mournful, like a father lamenting a son’s unfounded distrust.

“Farim, your distrust wounds me deeply,” he began, his tone measured. “You speak as though I am some sort of villain in your story, orchestrating every misfortune to befall you. I wonder, have I truly been so unkind?” He placed a hand over his chest, feigning a pained expression. “Yet here I am, offering you proof of your mother’s care and concern. Is that the action of the cruel man you so often paint me to be?”

As Farim’s eyes scanned the letter, Hafiz leaned back in his chair. “Go on, my son,” he urged softly, “Read her words. See for yourself how she cares for you, how she longs for the day you might reunite.”
The letter, written in perfect mimicry of Farim’s mother’s handwriting, read:
My dearest Farim,
My heart aches with every passing day of our separation. Know that I think of you constantly and pray for your success in all that you do. Your father has assured me of your growth and progress, and I am so proud to hear of the man you are becoming.
I wish only for your happiness and safety. If fate allows, I hope we will see one another soon. Until that blessed day, carry my love with you and know that no matter the distance, you are always in my heart.
With all my love,
Your mother

Hafiz let the silence settle as Farim absorbed the letter, his expression unreadable. Then, he spoke again, his voice quieter, almost gentle. “You see, Farim? She misses you dearly, as any mother would. It is cruel of you to assume I would withhold something so precious. Do you truly believe I would stoop so low?”
“I only seek to guide you, Farim. To protect you from the many dangers that would see you fail. Do not let your misplaced suspicions cloud the love that surrounds you.” His voice softened.

Farim’s voice stayed neutral, yet low. As if half of his focus was on the letter and half on his father. ”You only lead in directions you see fit, to forward agendas that oh so happen to align with your own. This letter is convincing I will give you that…” Farim placed the letter on the desk and slid it partially towards Hafiz. ”But I think I can count on one hand the amount of times mother referred to me by my actual birth name. If you had been around more as she raised me you might have known that.” His mouth curled into a smirk.

”But you were too busy fabricating your next scheme to mold me into the perfect tool of your design. Or to just scare the living daylights out of me. Remind me again, who was it who accidentally let Nala roam the halls of the palace knowing I would cross paths with her?” Farim whirled his hand around in mock contemplation to the loaded question. ”Or whenever I misbehaved, and the way you would starve me until I apologized? Does any of this ring any bells?” The man flicked his wrist to wrap the back of his hand along the side of his mouth, as if to stop some unseen observer from reading his lips. ”And do not get me started on the fighting pits you secretly cherish and yet publicly loathe.”

Farim crossed his arms, maintaining a disapproving tone in his voice. He did not yet give in to his rage or malcontent for the man in front of him. That would be what he would want, and would reveal cracks in his argument. He needed this next part to be believable, and for Hafiz to stay on the defensive for as long as he could manage to manipulate him to be. ”Not to mention the report hitting my desk confirming my mother’s death. I like to keep tabs on her despite your somewhat veiled attempts at keeping us apart. I just figured I would give you another chance to come clean - for there was a part of me that hoped you would finally show me some of that good nature you always preach you have.” This part, the obvious lie to him, was what was hinging on this conversation becoming good or bad for the Shehzade. If he told Hafiz his “report” was actually a vision brought on by hallucinations and “magical potions”, all credibility would fly out the window. Farim’s gaze fell onto Hafiz with a cold disposition, his grin fading to a straightened line. ”But it would seem you have yet again fallen short of expectations. I guess that just seems to run in the family, hm?”

Hafiz leaned back slightly, his expression softening into something dangerously close to fatherly concern. “Farim,” he began, almost mournfully, “this… report of yours. I would very much like to see it. You know how deeply I care for your mother’s well-being. To suggest I would keep something like this from you-” he paused, his tone turning regretful, “I can’t help but feel you mistake my intentions entirely.”

He gestured to the letter on the desk with a slow, deliberate movement. “She is alive, Farim. She writes to you with love, with hope. If she didn’t refer to you by a childhood nickname, perhaps it’s because she knows the man you are becoming—strong, capable, wise. Why would she not address you as such?”
His gaze sharpened, though his tone remained gentle. “As for my actions, the punishments you speak of… Do you think I enjoyed them? Do you think I wanted to starve my son, or to set trials before him? No, Farim. It was necessity. The world is cruel, and I needed to prepare you for it. Every decision I’ve made has been to ensure your survival—your success.”

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You think I scheme for my own gain? No. I act because I see the greatness in you, Farim. A greatness I fear you will never see in yourself.”
Sitting back, Hafiz sighed, as if the weight of Farim’s accusations had burdened him deeply. “If I have been harsh, if I have failed to express my pride or my love as you deserve, then for that, I apologize.” His voice cracked ever so slightly. “But do not let anger cloud the truth: I have always acted in your best interest, even when you could not see it.”
He held Farim’s gaze, his expression one of genuine sorrow. “So, my son, let us look at this report you speak of together. Let us find the truth, side by side. You may not trust me now, but perhaps, in time, you will see that everything I’ve done has been for you.”

Farim’s face did not falter, quickly coming up with an excuse to not discuss this imaginary report. ”I am afraid like all other reports I receive while I am away from my office, it has been sent back with my own response to ensure that things stay running while I am away.” He did not buy his father’s sympathy for a moment, but rather than bicker back and forth, he decided to indulge the old man. ”As for your…punishments…I do not think anyone would enjoy them. One could argue that even tough love requires some modicum of, well, love. An ingredient that seems to be lacking in my eyes.” Farim heaved a sigh. ”But let us try and reach a middle ground here. I am willing to open my mind to your logic.”

There was a solemn nod from the Shehzade before he looked at Hafiz with that same stoic and calculating stare. ”I still am unconvinced of the safety of my mother, but if you can prove to me she is alive by bringing her here physically, then I shall rescind my accusations and apologize with utmost sincerity.” There was a deliberate pause before he added another condition, as if purely to add suspense to the moment. ”Or…you can call off your plan to marry Edin’s daughter. Since you knew I had notion to court her, it seems a little odd to suddenly seek a political marriage when one was practically in your grasp through me. I feel like a loving father would agree in letting his son shoulder the responsibility of such a thing, no?” Farim grinned, despite the mental pain of trying to negotiate and “agree” with his father, he felt like he would be hard pressed to continue his “nice father” act now.

Hafiz’s smile was subtle, almost fatherly. “If it will ease your mind, I will arrange for your mother’s travel. She will come here, and you will see for yourself that she is well.” He paused, his voice softening but retaining its edge. “As for Anastasia, I sought the match for our family’s strength, not my gain. If you wish to take on that burden, then prove you are capable of succeeding in obtaining her engagement.“

Farim was skeptical. There was something going on here that he did not know about. Was his vision really false? It felt so….real. So purposeful. But if he were wrong, and his mother was alive….Well he would have to see it to believe it. ”I would quite like that. It has been ages since we have last conversed, and I think it only fair given the recent…misunderstanding. That we set the record straight, no?”

”As for the marriage, I believe I had that route covered in terms of the political gain from it all. Are you saying I now have to surpass my own father in winning the hand of the King’s daughter? Is that what I am understanding here?” His face seemed neutral, quizzical even, but there still remained some form of reaction waiting beneath the surface for what Hafiz would say.
Hafiz offered a slow nod, as though granting a gracious concession.
“You are correct, my son. It is only fair we set the record straight. I will see to your mother’s arrival immediately. Let that be the end of your doubts.”

Then, he let out a quiet, almost amused hum. “Surpass me? No, Farim. This is not a competition. If you believe you can secure the princess’s hand and strengthen our family’s position, then by all means… prove it.” He leaned back, his smile small but pointed, like the tip of a dagger. “But do not misunderstand me. This is not about father versus son—this is about ensuring our family’s future. If you think you can carry that weight, then show me. I would take great pride in your success.”

Externally, Farim wore a grateful expression, as if to be relieved of troubles and disagreements that were once had. Internally, Farim could only surmise what the man was up to. This was all far too agreeable. This personable man before him was not the Hafiz he knew - at least not the one that truly showed behind closed doors. The man before him was surely hatching some form of scheme or manipulation as they spoke - layering his webs of lies and deceit like toppings to a freshly made cake. A cake Farim would take no part in. He would observe these promises of his father and make note of the candor in which he spoke so plainly.

Physically, Farim nodded in agreement. ”Very well. It would seem it is time for me to take the mantle of nobility and shed this cautionary tale of mine. Come the end of this season, I shall have the princess’ hand in marriage. You may know me for many things - but being persuasive is surely one of them.” Farim’s smile turned into a muted neutral line across his face as his hand rested on the Grand Vizier’s desk. ”You can leave this future you speak of to me. I have quite the vision in mind for our nation I will have you know.” He snickered at his father, and rested his head onto his hand before shrugging slightly.

”But alas, conversations and discussions for another time. I shall extend my … sincerest apologies for the initial uproar to this conversation. Should you prove that my report is indeed mistaken, it would only be good news. So please…do not bring me bad news.” A slight scowl edged in the back of his throat as Farim rose to bow towards the Vizier. ”I do believe that was all I was needing to be speaking with you about. Is there anything you might have for me, father?”

Hafiz’s smile was faint, but his eyes gleamed with calculated interest. “Very well, Farim. The future rests in your hands now. I trust you will not let it slip through your fingers.” He leaned back, dismissing his son with a wave of his hand. “Go, then. Prove to me—and to yourself—that you are capable of the greatness you speak of. I will await your success.” With that, Hafiz turned his attention to a stack of papers on his desk, signaling that the conversation had ended and leaving Farim to contemplate the weight of his father’s parting words.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Farim & Wulfric

Time and Date: FLASHBACK: Sola 25th, early afternoon, before Wulfric's meeting with Nicholas

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It was just past noon, and Wulfric had returned from an enjoyable time at the opera, which he had attended with Nahir. He was taking care of paperwork in his office while he waited for his invitee to arrive.

All things considered, the Shahzade was more or less on time. At a knock, Wulfric permitted entry, and the servant who had escorted the foreign prince opened the doors. Wulfric gave a single nod to the employee - a signal they were to be left alone. Despite hosting a guest, the eldest Danrose heir hadn’t had any refreshments prepared. Not even a single glass of water. “Take a seat, Shahzade.” A thin, polite smile flitted into sight, only to disappear without a trace. His gaze was pure frost, a fierce stare stabbing into the man with the chilling intensity of an ice-pick. “I believe we both know why I have requested your presence,” he said once the Alidasht prince had settled onto one of his couches. “So, I will cut to the chase.” He cocked his head to the side, studying the man as if he were a bug he would squash if it annoyed him too much.

“You expressed to me your intent to court my sister. If you were as sincere as I had thought you to be…Why. Are. You. Fooling around?”

Farim made his way inside - unaware of the predicament set before him. He unknowingly stepped into the belly of the beast, and as soon as it became apparent what the tone of this meeting was - his usual pleasant demeanor melted into one of concern and mild bewilderment.

“I suppose you are speaking of this morning. I admit - it was a bit bold of me to act so brazenly so soon. Old habits and all.” The man crossed his arms and moved one leg to rest on his knee. “But let us speak plainly. What about my actions suggest I am not sincere? What about my approach suggests I am simply fucking around?

“Everything.” He paused, taking a moment to observe Farim, and to restrain the silently seething fury deep within. “You were rubbing against my sister, no better than a dog in heat. You encouraged that lap dance for your own self-gratification. Your fingers were in places they have no business being, not until after an engagement. Certainly never in public. That so far exceeds ‘a bit’ of boldness I have to question if you are delusional,” he shook his head, disdain radiating off of him.

“And you speak to me of old habits? So, ‘fucking around’ is nothing new to you. What, then, indicates your commitment? Why would you seek to marry her, if you can fuck her for fun? Why bother courting her when you can have your fun and move on? Why would she tie herself to you when you are only one more man in a long line of playboys?” He laid his palms upon his desk, leaning forward as he narrowed his eyes, expecting answers.

The man raised his hands to eye level - as if he were facing an officer of the law. “It seems there are some key misunderstandings. About me. About my methods. And about my nature of pursuing someone as emotionally complex as Anastasia.” Farim brought his hands and interlaced his fingers over the cap of his knee. “So, allow me to straighten the record - and apologize for any misgivings.” He paused, finding the precise words he wanted to convey his message.

“A little about me to start. In my youth I was what one would call a ‘playboy’. A philanderer. Being son of the Grand Vizier, as regretful as it was, had some perks. But as I grew older, wiser, it became clear that such walks of life were not what I wanted. Not what I needed. So I set out to create the trading company you may know of called Farim’s Dream. Because I have a dream. One I can detail for you now if you so wish - but the focus right now is me and your sister.” His eyes seemed to lock onto Wulfric’s as he spoke. An equally warm yet calm demeanor to rival the icy stare that Wulfric had given him.

“Furthermore, in my homeland, such displays of affection are fairly common amongst our nobility.”

“Bullshit.” Wulfric had merely listened to the man thus far, unimpressed. The ‘cultural differences’ excuse had earned Farim a scathing response, however.

“I will admit even for our standards it was on the touchy side, but when I speak of old habits, that is what I am referring to. ‘Courting’ back home and ‘courting’ here contain two separate connotations. And it is a fine line I am walking. So I extend a sincere apology for overstepping.”

“It is not a ‘fine line’. I have been to Alidasht, and I have some familiarity with your courting procedures. The only place where your behaviour would be considered appropriate, even in your own country, is a brothel.” He looked down at the man. “But perhaps, the habits of your royalty are entirely different to the ones I’ve observed among your countrymen. I wonder, just which of your family members would lend credence to your words?” he scoffed as he questioned rhetorically.

Farim moved his legs to plant his feet on the ground - as if to take a stance both verbally and physically. “But here is where I must wholeheartedly disagree with you, dear Crown Prince.” His tone dropped, and Farim decided to match the slight disapproval in Wulfrics tone with his own.

“In what world do you think going about things ‘normally’ would be what it took to win your sister’s heart? A woman who is shielded by the very fun and thrills she seeks to escape a fear she is far too vulnerable to conquer on her own. What right do I have to bring sudden change in her life - nonetheless in the form of some stuffy, fake, dressed up image that only others find acceptable.” Farim then leaned onto the desk, still matching Wulfric’s eyes. “Forgive my assumptions, dear brother. But I am giving Annie what she wants AND what she needs. No one is going to get any closer to her heart without dancing her dance. I will make no progress trying to win her admiration through simple means. To venture out of her comfort zone - she will need someone in that very safe space in order to guide her towards something more….meaningful. And even then...” His voice boomed at the last word. “It may still not be enough - for the final choice is with her.” Farim leaned back in his chair.

“It may not be,” Wulfric agreed. “What she wants and what she needs aren’t one and the same,” he shook his head. “I will not decide in her stead what it is that she needs. But please, do not try to pretend as if your own desires had no play in your actions. Because I do not believe for a second that all these reasonings you’ve pulled out of a hat right now were what led you to make a public spectacle of yourself.” He exhaled forcefully but had calmed down during the conversation. “I never said nor meant to imply that you ought to court her exactly according to the prescribed manner. However, throwing caution to the wind, and going to the other extreme is not the answer. I admit, I had expected better of you than to act like a two-bit manslut who can’t keep his hands - or other parts - to himself.”

“Call me whatever you like. A dog in heat. A foreign fucktoy. The next pretty face on her to-do list. I have heard it all. But do not dare suggest that I am not giving her my best and only my best.” The harsh tone in his words finally settled as he crossed his arms once more “Just because the journey is wild and strange does not mean the destination is not pure.” He paused before adding one final note. “Considering how close you are getting with my cousin - you may just learn firsthand how wild things can be with my family.” His cool and collected expression broke with a sly smirk, only to return to his neutral disposition. “Sorry. Went a little raw and untapped for a second there. But I hope that quells your concerns.”

“I am afraid not, Shahzade,” he sighed. But it was worry which furrowed his brow now rather than anger. “There is a proper time, place, and occasion for all things. I would not have approached you so forcefully had you chosen to have your fun with Anastasia in private. Mind, I would certainly disapprove of such a thing as well. But having been raised as a royal man in Alidasht, it appears you are entirely blind to the social consequences which my sister could face. It is true that she doesn’t care, but I had hoped you might.” He regarded the other man for a long moment.

Farim sighed, his shoulders dropping as he fully extended his exhale, and just as smoothly straightened his posture. “Look, Prince Wulfric. I will take the blame for being such a … debaucherous foreigner. It would be remiss of me to shun one for not considering my own cultural normalities while not considering your own.” He paused in his words - swallowing the pride he clung to so that he could see things from Wulfric’s side. The man had the right idea, and proper intentions - an argument over semantics would do very little. “As little as my words may mean now, my intentions are more pure than my actions. I will make it a point to-”

“Your father approached mine with a marriage offer for Anastasia. Unfortunately, my father is a colossal idiot, and he believes handing her over to the Grand Vizier would keep her safe.” He paused, letting that sink in. “We both know it wouldn’t, don’t we?” he questioned softly.

“So, you can see now why I still have my concerns,” he concluded.

The man’s face instinctively scowled at the mention of Hafiz Kadir. “Oh, how that man vexes me…” He rubbed his temples in momentary frustrated contemplation. “You cannot let that man marry her. If she does then who knows where he may corral her like all his other wives…” Farim rested his face against his hand - dragging his thumb and forefinger across his cheek bones before looking up at Wulfric. “I plan to take care of this myself - but should I prove unsuccessful, I ask - no - I implore you to not let such a thing come to pass. I am genuinely unsure of what that man plans to do. But none of it will be good.”

“You needn’t ask, Shahzade. I will never let that man get anywhere close to my sister.”

Farim, visibly distressed, huffed a short breath and tapped his knuckle on Wulfric’s desk. “I will proceed in a manner more accustomed to your nation's ways of courting - but I also will not be a fake suitor to your sister. A balance will be struck, one that is more fitting of the public image you aspire to preserve.” The man calmed himself, pausing for the time to give the prince a moment of rebuttal.

Wulfric nodded. “That is agreeable. Despite everything, your intentions appear honest. Since we have, at the very least, Anastasia’s well-being in common interest, I propose an informal alliance. We both have our fathers to deal with, after all…” A neutral statement which could have several meanings. “My family will be hosting a banquet on the 28th. Make yourself available, and express to my father your interest in courting Anastasia. It would also behoove you to step forward as a formal witness to Anastasia’s assault at Lord Ravenwood’s ceremony. Be as factual as possible, and relay when you last saw her before she disappeared, and when you found her. I would not suggest keeping to yourself the suspicious appearance of those two coated men in her vicinity soon after you had happened upon her.”

Farim raised an eyebrow. “You suspect Dr. John had a part to play?”

Wulfric rolled a shoulder. “He may have, or he may not have. We cannot know without questioning him.”

He pondered the idea for a moment and exhaled slightly. “His presence was rather suspicious and Anastasia’s account further incriminates him.” The man rubbed his chin in contemplation, then looked once more into Wulfric’s eyes. “I find these terms rather amiable. I was looking forward to meeting the family properly anyway - I shall come to this banquet, and address the two problems therein. My only concern is if this arranged alliance is of any import - my father likely wants to use the political leverage of a national alliance as means to secure this marriage. Why wage a war when you can marry a princess?” His eyes rolled so far you would swear they were in the back of his head. “So, how do we trump this…” Farim paused before posing a question. “Forgive me for asking - would your father value opulence and wealth over the political safety of avoiding war?”

“To quote Edin, ‘Having a snake as your ally rather than your enemy is advantageous’,” Wulfric drawled mockingly. “Frankly, he is also the type of man who would gladly wage a war if he thought he could win it - and he is awfully overconfident. Though, if he were to set his sights on one of our neighbors, it would be Varian. I wonder if your father guessed at that…?” he shook his head. “Regardless, the short answer is no. Your wealth will be a benefit, but he will judge you by your political sway also. Flattery works best, and he is surprisingly easy to lure in with empty promises, especially if you back it up with some showy gifts. Like throwing breadcrumbs to the pigeons,” he snarked, shaking out his fingers to mimic hoodwinking.

Farim pondered the implications behind such things - what gifts would he bring? What political sway could he offer that would outweigh his father? Not much came to mind on the latter half - but the inklings of an idea formed, and so be smiled at the prince. “Having been raised by such a manipulative snake does unfortunately come with its benefits. I believe I can offer some persuasive ideas, promises, and certainly some fine gifts for such a man. Everything from silks derived from silkworms that were read the great Edinian Gospels and where the prayers of the many gods were sung over their pupafication, to works of pottery that reflect the bright radiance of his prominence and beneficial reign over Caesonia. Does this strike a chord with you, prince?” he smirked.

A matching humourous smile appeared in response. “A good start,” he nodded.

But this face returned to a more stoic one of contemplation. “But that part is easy. What might be tricky is convincing him I am more of a beneficiary than my father - who holds the grander title. However, perhaps my chance at claiming the Sun Throne may yet convince him - if not then I will make sure to remind him of the power of a good deal…” Farim waved his hand. The specifics would have to come later, and he would think about it. “So, in conclusion, be more civil, attend your family's banquet, and convince your father to allow me the privilege to have court with your sister over Hafiz. Easy enough.” Farim extended his hand for a handshake. “To keeping our families cared for and our countries at peace.”

“Agreed,” Wulfric shook the man’s hand. “Do not forget to give my sister a heads up on what you are planning to do, and why. Wouldn’t want to give her the wrong idea that you are only doing this for the political benefit, now would you?” he questioned rhetorically.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Drake

Attire: Black/Green Coat, Black Dress Pants, and Black Shoes
Time: Morning of the 25th
Location: Edwards Estate
Mentions: Callum @helo, Lorenzo @FunnyGuy, Cassius @PapaOso, Charlotte @princess, and a very special guest.

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Drake bowed his head solemnly. ”I’m sorry, I did not know…” He signals for a toast with the Prince before continuing ”We can’t always be perfect in life. We can only be our best. Terrible friendships in the past may yet be redeemed in the eyes of those who wish it to be so.” Drake clacked his drink against Callum’s, and swished it back before lightly clanking it on the bar. ”Don’t think on the phrasing too much - what I more or less mean is don’t damn yourself for an eternity over the finite time you’ve spent with them. What matters is you recognize the bad and wish to do good - that’s all we can ever really ask of ourselves.”

Then came the talk of his sister. There was some overlap in his words versus how he would describe her - he often found her to be a joy in his life. He cared about her, so naturally he wanted to make sure whoever she would potentially be with felt the same. “Not in the slightest. Just being a concerned older brother. Plus I know nothing I said or did would stop her from going after what she wants. All I can do is make sure she’s safe.” He waved for their drinks to be topped off. “I’m sure you’ll come to see that in the weeks to come. Given how vested her interest is in you.”

“For what it’s worth. I don’t buy into all that social slack people seem to love to give you. I’ll let you words and actions speak for yourself - rather than the words of others.” It was shortly after this that Lorenzo had made the grand spectacle of presenting his own gifts. Drake had half a mind to tell him he didn’t have to present them so boisterously - but then he smiled. What harm could there be in letting him have his fun? Famous last words.

The first gift was plenty fine - Drake actually unboxed the revolver right there, took a look at the firing pin under his thumb, and nodded approvingly. “Cassius, my fellow. You know how to pick them. This looks to be…a model 1873? Very trusty work. I commend the smiths who forged the metals.” He carefully placed the weapon back in its box and turned to Lorenzo for the next one.

And when he described its contents, the young lord’s face maintained its smile with mild skepticism. But once there was mention of a “love potion” and “rubbers”, Drake fought back the immediate urge to frown. “My what a….creative gift good sir. Did you have to include those last two though? Seems a bit, well, private to mention such a sacred act in front of a gathering.” Nonetheless he took the box and stacked it on the other.

Then came the final box. Drake’s immediate response was to swoon at the adorable beady eyes. ”Awww what precious critters they are! And twins, you say? Do they have names?” He carefully handled the furry noodles and let them get accustomed to his presence before carefully placing them back into their container. ”I suppose this year I am raising my own furry family of felines and weasels. Very exciting!”

He sat the boxes down and with a resounding clap, he looked to the guests around, some inebriated and some already making their leave. Drake saw Wulfric take his leave and was a bit disappointed he couldn’t have a moment with his friend - but after all the embarrassment he weathered today, it might be best to let that die down before Wulfric had the chance to line up a light-hearted taunt or jest at his expense.

“Esteemed guests! Lords and Ladies! Dukes and Duchesses! I thank you humbly for your patience and presence on this fine day!” Drake begins his speech as he begins walking to the stage once more. “At this hour, I will say it is officially time to wrap up the party and proceed to the final course. Should you need any other food or drink, I kindly ask you to request our help for fresh options and partake to your heart's content. You all have been wonderful patrons tonight - and I do hope that you all enjoy the day. It may be my day of birth, but it is still young and ripe with opportunity! Seize the day and make it your own!” He gave one last bow - without falling - and made his way off the stage.

From here he continued to converse with the nearby Callum, Cassius, Lorenzo, and Charlotte until they took their leave. He made sure each guest received a complimentary goodie bag* upon leaving, as well as a proper farewell from the birthday boy himself. Once the party was cleared out, and the help seemed on their way to cleaning up, he made arrangements for his study to be partially converted into a bestiary for his new family members.

“Sebastian, my good man. Fetch me a bottle of our finest red please. And two glasses.” Drake asked his trusty manservant. The young man ran off and fetched a 10-year vintage and two fancy glasses for the lord, who nodded appreciatively before sending him away. He picked up the glasses and placed them on his bedside table, sitting on the edge of his bed and sighing as he poured the two glasses full of red wine.

“If only you could have been here. That would’ve been the best birthday gift of all..” He reached for the glass and began to sip as he heard a knock at the door. He continued sipping while approaching the door. ”Comiiing.” He said in a slightly dreary tone before taking another quick sip.

As he opened the door however, he felt himself nearly choke on his drink. For right in front of him was a woman clad in a beautiful green gown, her long blonde hair tied up in just the perfect blend of careful attention and mild messiness. Her two distinctly colored eyes that reminded Drake of the earth and sky all in one beautiful woman. His mouth opened slightly, his jaw hanging as she began to blush. The woman fidgeted slightly, her hands and arms behind her back as she looked up at Drake through her lashes and shyly spoke. ”A-am I too late?”

*Goodie bags contain various generic goods. Some herbal oils, greeting cards, small chocolates, as well as any particular trinket or item your specific character may be interested in receiving. PM me for details.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Farim

Location: Edwards Estate
Time: Morning of the 25th
Attire: Robes
Mentions: Anastasia@princess, Stratya @CitrusArms, Rohit@Helo, and Wulfric @SilverPaw

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“Depends on where you go and who you ask, Rohit.” Farim flashed a coy smile. ”Pleasure to meet you - I am familiar with your work, and it is a blessing to be seeing the progeny of Vali Amar here in Sorian this lovely season.” The Shehzade reached a hand out towards the man, while still supporting the woman on his lap. ”Farim Kadir.”

After a handshake, the man looked back to the inebriated Knight Captain with a smirk. ”Oh I am no stranger to strong drink. However I do not think getting wasted was the intent of a party with a family such as this - they seem more of the social drinking types.” Farim shot a sideways glance at Rohit. ”For one reason or another, they love to spike drinks here in Caessonia. Again, I am all for fun, but consent is a beautiful thing, is it not?” The wording was chosen carefully, and another slight squeeze on Anastasia’s hip would be his way of playing jokester with the woman as she maintained her bubbly giggling self.

It was then the audible announcement of Duke Vikena sounded throughout the courtyards - talking of firearms, perfumes, condoms, and last but not least, ferrets. Farim stifled a chuckle. ”I am glad I did not bring Thara - she would be stir crazy over seeing ferrets out in the open like that. I cannot help but mention how adorable that pair of animals are….But also is this Drake a collector of sorts? I could send for some rather fantastic beasts to fill his menagerie if this is the occasion.” The man mused aloud as the party came to a head. Any moment now and he felt the Edwards would simply kick everyone out. It was around then that the icy cold stare of disapproval was felt on the back of his neck.

“I will expect you in my office at half past noon.”

Farim was not often caught as off guard as he was. He nearly jumped in his chair when Wulfric placed a hand on his shoulder. Nothing the man said was outwardly threatening - but he knew that beneath the surface he would have to deal with an infuriated Wulfric later. This was a fate he would rather not have - but in brief retrospect, he had only himself to blame. Farim responded with a brief nod. ”I shall see you there.” The man knew when someone was going to pull him aside for “the talk”. He had seen it before in his father, in the sultan, and with his siblings once before - all people who wished to lecture him on how he was unbecoming and “not a good fit” for the role he was born to play. Nonetheless - it was a role he was going to fill one way or another, so he felt he should do it with as much panache, grace, and grandeur as one of his homeland would. He waited a good while for Wulfric to leave earshot before resuming any playful antics.

He gave Anastasia a soft pat. ”It would seem I shall have to skip out on this game of poker - but perhaps later this evening we can enjoy some more adventures of some kind, yes?” Farim glanced over to Rohit. “Speaking of hip happenings, I believe Annie over here is a sage in such things. There is never a party far from this woman. I believe she was already planning something on the horizon for this table - feel free to listen in on the details, Rohit.” He smiled. It was all he could do to ease the anxiety welling in his gut.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Farim

Location: Edwards Estate
Time: Morning of the 25th
Attire: Robes
Mentions: Anastasia@princess, Zarai @Rodiak, Olivia @Potter, Fritz @JJ Doe, Stratya @CitrusArms, Rohit@Helo, Wulfric @SilverPaw and Nahir @Rodiak

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The playful banter between the two continued as Zarai compared each of them to culinary delights. This woman was certainly a fun one to interact with. He could see why her and Annie got along so well. For the time he decided it best to let their back and forth end. She had won the battle, but Farim would surely win the war - at least that is what he convinced himself he would do. ”Sharing is caring indeed…” He trailed off.

The man turned to address Anastasia. ”Back home this is merely how we flirt and play nice amongst our romantic interests. But here I am beginning to feel it is not as socially appropriate.” He still could not help but trace a finger along the fair skin of her arm, with his eyes moving to trace the movements before returning to meet the woman’s gaze.

But then her tone shifted. Her body relaxed but not out of comfort. The Shehzade’s brow furrowed as he tried to read her expressions - almost like the birth of a thousand yard stare. Had he been too much? Was his method of allure and romanticism too strong? Allaenat jamiean (Dammit all), Farim. She does not need someone flighty or unsure. Stick to your mantra - and be the man above the rest. You have to be, for her.

The brief moment of reflection was cut short as she seemed to be snapped back to her senses. ”Everything good, Annie? He asked. But she was already moving onto the next moment. Already seeking the next excitement. A slight melancholic look graced Farim’s features for but a moment. That is when the birthday boy himself took a rather big fall off the stage.

”What is with this city and causing great falls? The following spectacle was nothing new to him either. Families fight all the time. His mind flickered to the times his father would berate and abuse him in public similar to this - prompting Farim to say a silent prayer for Lord Drake. The situation only continued to grow weirder. As nobles around began to act aloof, Farim narrowed his gaze and scanned the surrounding tables. Everyone seemed to be having a little too much fun…

”Do not tell me….” He snatched a drink from a nearby platter as a waiter passed by. He raised the glass to his nose and gave the drink a cursory sniff-test. Nothing. He raised the glass to his lips and took a small sip - and immediately felt the potency of the beverage. ”Princess, do not partake in the beverages….I cannot say who did this and for what reason. But this is not a normal drink. I am afraid they have been tampered with.”

The man turned to the table, noticing that Zarai and Fritz had taken their leave. So he addressed those he remained. ”I do not know if I am being dramatic but I suggest you two do the same. Call it a hunch, or maybe I am just paranoid after the last time I drank at a party here.” Farim had learned to not always trust every drink or food placed before him - and the mistake he made the other night was one he would rather not repeat.

But who would invite so many people to an event to celebrate their prestige just to get them drunk and delirious? Farim pondered for a moment before casting his gaze across the yard towards his cousin. She seemed rather coherent. And so did her present company. And if she or any of them would look his way, he made sure to make it apparent to her that the drinks may not be what they seem. He placed the drink down while looking at Nahir, and pushed the drink away.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Drake

Attire: Black/Green Coat, Black Dress Pants, and Black Shoes
Time: Morning of the 25th
Location: Edwards Estate
Mentions: Victoria, Callum @helo, and Ariella @tpartywithzombi

---

The commotion had more or less come to a stop - at least in the main area in front of the stage. Looking around there was a slight frown on Drake’s face. He had conflicted feelings about the revelry that had broken out. On one hand, the people were having fun and enjoying themselves. Occasions such as this are, in his mind, meant to spread joy and merriment. But he still felt as if this would end up crashing back on their public image - one that he knew his father had done so much to try and maintain. To a degree his mother had as well, but the one who always had to deal with their antics was the Duke himself.

His attention was brought back as Callum had accepted his offer of a drink, and Drake thought that for the moment it would be best to clear his head a little more before he said or did anything drastic. He already made a fool of himself and as best as he did to mediate it - he was sure people would boast and guffaw about it in the next morning’s paper. Seeing his father had yet again taken control of his rampant mother, and that his sister had gone off to socialize with other guests - likely to avoid having a meltdown over their argument - Drake guided the Prince to the open bar - where he would unknowingly partake in a comparatively softer drink than what he had prior.

With a polite wave he motioned for Callum to take a seat where he would please. ”Start us off with two whiskeys please - take it from the double-aged oak please.” He nodded to the bartender who prepared two glasses. A perfectly circular ball of ice was placed in each glass before the man reached up above him to grab a large bottle of what could only be the aforementioned whiskey. A pop of the cork on the bottle and the rich tones would fill the air as the bartender poured their drinks and slid them across the counter towards them. He gave the pair a bow and resumed serving the nearby crowd that was beginning to grow as the number of inebriated patrons rose.

Drake turned to the Prince with a smile, swirling the drink in his hand as he spoke aloud. ”Forgive me, Prince Callum. I know my mother can be a handful - so I’m thankful you took her criticism in stride. There was a time she wasn’t so….ornery. Or maybe it’s taken me this long to see it for myself. But ahh, let’s not dwell too much on it.” He takes a sip of the fine beverage - letting it fully slide down his throat before throwing his next statement at the man. ”I’d actually love to talk with you a little more about you and Ariella if it isn’t too out of place. What exactly might your intentions with her be?” He shot Callum a smile - friendly enough to imply he wasn’t going to make a scene if something bad were to be said. But he was Ariella’s bigger brother after all, it only felt natural for him to poke even just a little bit into her potential suitors. If the way she had been acting with Callum had hinted at anything - it would be that her favorite such suitor would be the man sharing a drink with him right now.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Drake

Attire: Black/Green Coat, Black Dress Pants, and Black Shoes
Time: Morning of the 25th
Location: Edwards Estate
Mentions: Victoria, Callum @helo, and Ariella @tpartywithzombi

---

A lot had happened in such a short time. To Drake, the world simply dimmed as his senses dulled and the dizziness took him over - some would call this “the spins”. He would call it the weight of the anxiety or the performance taking over his motor skills - but this is an argument for another time.

While he gathered himself, the berating and shouting had been a slight buzz in his ear. He had however heard the biting comments from his mother - they held some truth, but she could have at least phrased it better. It was his birthday after all.

Drake stood on his own and brushed any grass or dirt off - taking a moment to fluff his hair and with that all-to-charismatic smile he held both his hands aloft ar everyone speaking to ask for a moment of silence. Once the pause we poignant enough - Drake said his piece.

”What a way to conclude a performance, am I right? I am sorry to frighten you all so much - you see I’ve been worrying about that performance all bloody week and I fear my jitters finally got the better of me at the end. But I assure you I am well! Just as all of us Edwards do, we handle such hiccups with elegance and grace.”

He gave his coat jacket another purposeful fluff and turned to his mother. ”Hors d'oeuvres sound lovely! I am rather famished too. Perhaps not the best idea to perform on an empty stomach - but I wanted to give Sorian a real proper recital.” He waved to everyone around, giving a proper non-addled bow this time. The man then let the crowd return to whatever conversations they may have had and turned on his heel to face Victoria. ”Such little faith, mother. I’ve had a five scotch breakfast and still gave a speech at that charity event last month but today I suddenly can’t hold my liquor in?” He chuckled and gave a slight wag of his finger ”I promise tis not the booze that made me fall. I’ve just been so very nervous about today. So please refrain from all this…yelling…” He shot his mom a look like that of a begging puppy for a moment - something only she and Ariella would really recognize.

Then he turned his attention to the young prince and his sister. ”You two! I am glad I caught you both. Would you both perhaps like to share a….” He paused as he likely felt the scowl of his mother as he suggested his. ”Liiiighter beverage over by the bar? I ought to thank you for coming to my aid Prince Callum - and I have been meaning to catch up with the two of you.” Drake motioned to the bar for them to continue if the two of them wished. Once his mother finished berating, lecturing, or chastising the trio - he would guide any interested parties over.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Farim

Location: Edwards Estate
Time: Morning of the 25th
Attire: Robes
Mentions: Anastasia/Charlotte @princess, Olivia @Potter, Ariella @tpartywithzombi, Zarai @Rodiak, Fritz @JJ Doe, and Stratya @CitrusArms

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Farim curled a smile at Zarai’s declaration. He searched his mind for the words - not having spoken this tongue in some time. Once he gathered the right meaning, he leaned in while still holding Anastasia in his arm. ”No dudo de tu encanto. No soy tímido cuando se trata de desafíos, porque puedo ser bastante... persuasivo.” The man let the words hang with a pleased expression on his face before leaning back in his seat. He meant no ill will of course - this was all part of the fun and he was rather enjoying his banter with the fine woman.

The next sequence of events definitely stirred a fire within the man. Back home he would definitely be far more brazen if a woman such as Anastasia doted over him so fondly - but this was a much more refined atmosphere. Full debauchery would not do. No…this required a delicate dance between two flirtatious souls in the midst of both fun and not-so-fun onlookers.

”Well, Anastasia my sweetheart, are you suggesting you need to find a place to let off some steam?” His voice rolled off the tongue with a sensual whisper into her ear followed by a chuckle. Her shifting in his lap did not go unnoticed, prompting him to shift in an equally promiscuous manner. At this point, Farim could hardly contain his own behavior - but as his hands glided along the front of her bodice, an announcement rang through the air from the birthday boy.

The performance was beautiful to Farim’s ears. His appreciation for music lended him the chance to fully immerse himself in the tones that this grand instrument played. ”I do wish we had many pianos back home - they sound so lovely don’t they?” He spoke to everyone at the table this time - simply enjoying the moment. Then the second piece was announced, tied with a pointed thank you at a certain “Charlotte Vikena”. His head shifted to eye the table across - a jolly group of individuals who seemed to be getting their drink on. Oh my, an admirer perhaps? But is she not already with that man there? This is certainly interesting…

The second piece continued with a similar level of grace and quality. Farim enjoyed listening to a live performance from one of the nobles of Caessonia. He considered it a treat, yet even as the second piece played his playful nature still persisted with the woman perched so perfectly on his lap. The same hand hovering on her midriff gently rubbed her dress with the ball of the man’s fingers. This continued throughout the piece and even as Drake went to give the crowd a bow. What happened next however - gave the Trade Prince quite the impression.

A young man tumbles, followed by the hushed sighs and oohs of the crowd. Then a young man, Anastasia’s brother Farim recalled, offered some reassurance - which was quickly dashed by a shouting woman who he could only presume was the young lord’s mother. Finally another fair lady approached which Farim immediately recognized as Ariella. That is right! This is the man who whisked her away the other night…so this is Ariella’s family? Explains why she likes to run off.. His heart went out to the pair of siblings. Seeing the way their mother tore into the pair both currently and just earlier as Ariella was berated for her lack of footwear.

But the ensuing chaos and heckling brought a smile to his face. Farim decided to act on his chaotic impulse and wrap a hand around the chin of the Princess. He was deliberately moving in such a way that she may even think he’d pop a kiss right there. But he slipped just past her ear to softly whisper to her. ”I must confess…as fun as it is to dance our little dance - decorum says I must behave myself. But perhaps later, we can work out some of these….frustrations.” He coyly suggested with a wink.

A quick flip of his hand snuck its way beneath the silky waves of her dress to rub the soft skin of the woman’s calf - all for but a fleeting moment as everyone's attention was drawn to the Edwards drama broiling in front of them. Then, as everyone began to look back to their own tables, the Shehzade wrapped his arms around her waist and rested then calmly in her lap as he smiled deviously at the Princess. ”Strip poker sounds great, so long as it is in the interest of everyone present.” Farim said with a nod towards the Knight Captain who had protested moments before.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Drake

Attire: Black/Green Coat, Black Dress Pants, and Black Shoes
Time: Morning of the 25th
Location: Edwards Estate
Mentions: Everyone present at the party]

---

Drake waved his hand at the offer to join the man with his guests. ”I would love to keep you all company at present. But I actually have something to tend to…I just wanted to make sure all is well. Do give Charlotte my best wishes, though. I think I caught wind of what she gave me and I -” He paused for a moment in appreciation. ”I am very thankful.” He bowed towards the man and walked off towards the stage setup near the end of the garden.

On his way there he managed to bump into three lady servants serving cocktails. While it would normally be ill-advised to partake in drink so soon before a performance, Drake could scarcely hold his nerves together. He gestured towards them and gave a bow as he reached for a cocktail. ”Oh you three are life-savers. I am rather shaken by the upcoming performance and might need a slight bit of liquid courage to stave the nerves.” The man swigged a good portion of the cocktail before letting out a sigh. Immediately he felt a strong kick to his throat as the alcohol slipped down his throat and he stifled a minor cough from the pure strength of the drink he just consumed. There was no odd taste, yet he felt like this was quite the potent mixture he just drank. Nonetheless, he smiled at the three ladies. ”Oh thank you three very much. Erica, Vanessa, and Yellenia right? You three deserve a break from my mother’s antics. I’m sure she’s had you running around all day - so please help yourself to some of the food being prepared. Tell them I said it was okay.”

He gave them a bow, albeit slightly shaken, and stood up to walk back towards the stage. Once there, he read over the sheet music once more. Gah. Why can’t I focus? Surely I am not so anxious that I cannot even see straight? He shook his head and gave his cheeks a light tap - his vision clearing in the moment. Once he gave it another once over, he placed it to the side and picked up the wrapped up sheet music that Charlotte had given him. It was a rather nice piece - something calm and serene, and thankfully short. He felt like if he was any longer he would forget half the notes before he made it back on stage. It was a rather large gamble to pull such a stunt - but for one reason or another he was feeling rather adventurous.

Drake made his way onto the stage amidst the bustling crowd. Once he placed the sheet music onto the piano stand he waved his hands to the crowd and gave a big bow towards the party-goers.

”Dearest friends, guests, gentlemen, ladies, and everything not classified. I welcome you to this fine celebration put on by my loving family in commemoration of my Name Day.”

He gestured towards the table where his Mother sat, and then towards his Father and Ariella.

”To you all I cannot thank you enough for making me feel like something of a somebody on this beautiful day.”

Once he had grabbed their attention he made his way to the piano and kept his voice projected, yet still moderately quiet as to not jar anyones eardrums before the performance. ”I hope you enjoy this performance of Clair de Luna - and may you all have a beautiful day.” Once the sound had quieted down enough, his fingers hit the keys with grace and precision.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGJPVl7iQUM

As the final notes filled the air - Drake could scarcely believe he had made it to the end of the performance with little hiccups. The man felt his head beginning to spin ever so slightly - but he pushed on. Turning to the crowd, he shouted out once more, more boisterously than before.

”And this next piece is a surprise one - gifted to me by a special someone. A spectacular person by the name of Charlotte Vikena. Thank you for blessing me with such a fine gift on such a fine day, milady.”

Perhaps in a wiser state of mind, he would have elaborated, but he chose to end it there, and began the next piece.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJGTrULrdUY

The notes hung in the air - a little shakier of a performance this time around but Drake felt like he more or less nailed it. Which was a miracle given how little time he had to prepare it. The lord stood up and faced the audience with a smile. He waved his hand and looked from left to right before taking an overenthusiastic bow. But that is when things would finally go wrong for the young lord. All the sensations that he had managed to ignore, whether through adrenaline or tolerance, had come washing to his head all at once. It proved to be too much - and so Drake in all his glory took a tumble off the stage, careening into the clearing in front of the tables that were closest to the stage.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Farim

Location: Edwards Estate
Time: Morning of the 25th
Attire: Robes
Mentions: Anastasia/Charlotte @princess, Olivia @Potter, Zarai @Rodiak, and Fritz @JJ Doe


__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Upon entering the scene with Annie in tow, Farim noticed the demeanor of Lady Zarai and couldn’t help but offer a sly smirk - as if he knew just what the connotation behind those words would mean. He joined her in laughter and softly hummed the words she had just spoke. ”My my, mi princesita - that is an awfully adorable name for you.” His eyes moved to meet Zarai’s ”Dare I see some competition for the hand of the princess in such a place as this?” Farim turned to look at Anastasia ”Am I to be worried about your Rai of sunshine? Where might my kiss be?” His hand waved idly and he paused in a similar show of sarcastic seriousness before chuckling.

”I tease, I tease. It is good to be seeing you. And you as well, Miss Olivia it was, right? I remember you from the beach the other day.” His demeanor was unfazed despite the Princess’ promiscuous choice of seat. He decided to play along with this dance of casual debauchery in such a refined place of high society. He figured the stuffy individuals who take such events so seriously could always lighten up a little - so he decided to play himself a little game of sensual chicken. While he gestured with his hand and spoke to the others, Farim adjusted himself and pulled his arm around her. His arm rested comfortably across her lap as his hand delicately brushed along her hip - almost tickling along her sides as he continued speaking.

It was then Count Fritz came to address the table and offer his sincere greetings. With as much grace as he could, he maintained a slight bow while seated. ”Forgive my sir for not rising at the moment. Once a lady like Annie takes her seat it is best not to disturb her.” He winked and rose in his seat, his arm reflexively pulling her just a smidge closer. ”Peace be upon you as well - my friend.” The man had mentioned a concert - and Farim made a mental note to remind himself to find a way to secure an invitation to such an event. His mind briefly flickered to the miniature concerts that he and his half-sister Saya would hold in the empty halls of the palace when they were children - and Farim found himself desiring to hear just what kind of musical arrangement Annie had in store for the public.

Another familiar face joined the occasion, one Charlotte Vikena. Farim smiled warmly and gave a gentle wave of his hand. ”Best of mornings to you, Lady Charlotte!” She appeared to whisper something in her ear then join her previous group in the festivities at their own table. It was rather pleasant to see her again, and he hoped that despite the drama at the beach that she hadn’t had any more trouble.

There were a few exchanged glances between involved parties that had Farim curious, but he wouldn’t dare intervene on matters he knew little of - unless he felt like being in a bratty mood of course. But one particular thing he noticed was how nervous she was around the Princess - perhaps she is guilty of something? But then again, are we not all guilty of something? He reflected. That’s when he decided to stroke a few locks of her hair, and nodded approvingly. ”You do have quite the soft hair! I admire how well you take care of it.

After he was finished flirting like the playboy at heart he was, he fixed his demeanor and addressed the two ladies once more. ”I apologize for my antics - I must say it is quite fun to be here in another land rich with such festivities. How have you both been enjoying your week? I hope it has been interesting?”