princess

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Charlotte, Lorenzo, Leo, Sjandehk, Iyen, Kira, Kalliope, and Morrigan

PART 3
Location: The Royal Curd

Leo glanced towards Morrigan, “Look at that, progress being made.” He said as Riona left. He returned to his seat once both Kira and Morrigan had sat down.

She crossed over to Lady Charlotte and, after a brief moment of hesitation, placed her hand on top of the other woman’s hand where it rested on the chair. Pitching her voice low, Riona said, “I appreciate you trying to help. It means a lot. But it’s better if I don’t stay. There are at least two people at this table who don’t want me here, and frankly, no one should have to deal with this extra bullsh*t on an empty stomach.” Riona flashed Lady Charlotte a smirk.

Charlotte gave her a soft smile and leaned in to whisper, “I understand…Just please do me a favor and do not let anyone tell you that you matter any less than the rest of us… You’re not an ant.”

“Remind Leo that.” Riona said before leaving. Charlotte then scooted back into the seat next to Lorenzo who had finally gained the courage to grab onto Morrigan's hand underneath the table.

“I would like to…” Lorenzo released the menu and clasped her pesky hand within his full grasp before whispering back, “... apologize for my poor memory of our interactions. As you may know, I took a year-long break after my late wife's passing. Might you refresh my memory? Please?”

The woman giggled and asked, “Why waste time trying to remember things that mean absolutely nothing to you when we can spend that energy making new memories?” Morrigan’s hand in his grasp turned until her thumb broke free to trace circles on his skin. “I promise I’ll try to be more memorable this time round.”

The drama happening in front of Kira was delicious. She resisted the urge to laugh by remaining stoic, however, and watched the scene in front of her. Her gaze slid from Leo to Riona, to Morrigan and Lorenzo, then to Charlotte and Riona, and then to the foreigners speaking in their foreign tongue, then finally back to the others.

”.....According to Mr. Smithwood, I am allowed at this table. Does the congregation agree, or shall I join our lovely Ms. Riona?” Her accent filled the room. Charlotte gave her the thumbs up to indicate she was fine remaining at the table. Kira smiled genuinely, and then turned back to examine her menu.

“Feast!” Lorenzo quickly cut in as if it were his duty. “Not, congregation, please. We need to use the correct group words, or trouble will come for all of us… but please sit.” Lorenzo replied cryptically.

Kira glanced at Lorenzo with curiosity and raised her eyebrows. ”My apologies, Mr. Vikena. I mustn’t use incorrect dialogue.”

Meanwhile, Kalliope's eyes landed on a table with several familiar faces and some unfamiliar, but there were two who really caught her eye. Her gaze lingered on Riona, who was clearly being pushed away from the table, and she felt a surge of protective anger. Riona was like a sister to her, and she wouldn't let anyone treat her poorly. Then her eyes found Sjan-dehk, and an involuntary smile touched her lips, though it faded slightly when she saw another woman with him, misinterpreting their closeness as the woman leaned in close to his ear. And was that his shirt she was practically wearing? Jealousy flared, amplifying her already foul mood.

With a determined stride, she made her way toward the table, her expression hardening into one of resolve. She caught Riona's eye for the briefest moment, giving her a tiny, mischievous smile that only she would recognize. It was a silent promise: she'd help put these people in their place today.

Riona managed to hide both her surprise and smile when she saw Via. With a curt nod of acknowledgment, she continued on her way. A few strides later, her steps faltered. Only one open spot remained, at a table currently occupied by two people she didn’t feel like making small talk with right now. She briefly considered loitering outside until Lordling Smithwood finished his lunch. But if she didn’t eat now, it would be awhile until she had another chance. Riona heaved a heavy sigh and marched over to the table of royals.

As she approached, she overheard the exchange between Iyen and Sjan-dehk, her jealousy only growing stronger especially when she saw where his hands were currently located. But she didn't let it show as she put on her best smile and addressed the group, standing behind the empty chair beside Charlotte.

"Lady Charlotte," Kalliope began warmly, genuinely admiring her beauty. "You look absolutely stunning today."

Charlotte smiled at her and thanked her graciously. “As do you.”

She then turned her attention to Duke Lorenzo. "And you, Duke Vikena, are looking quite dashing." Lorenzo trying to be polite despite his circumstance, gave her a nod with an uneasy smile.

Next, her gaze fell on Morrigan, and her smile turned sharper. "Morrigan, I see you're up to your old tricks," she said, her tone dripping with subtle venom. Unlike the other woman who smiled back sweetly. “You too.”

Finally, Kalliope's eyes settled on the pink figure of Lord Leo Smithwood. She couldn't help but let out a small, mocking laugh. "I have to applaud your confidence, Lord Smithwood. Not everyone can pull off a look that says, ‘I’ve been tangoing with a paint factory explosion and looking to bed a flamingo.’" The sweet smile she wore was a direct contrast to the blatant insult.

“Smithwoods are bold and unafraid to stand out.” Leo offered only a dismissive reply to a woman he was sure he’d seen before but whose name was not important enough to stick.

With that, she grabbed an empty chair, dragging it noisily across the floor until it was positioned between the knight and Sjan-dehk. She spun the chair around so the back was facing the table and straddled it, leaning against the back of the chair as she made herself comfortable. "Well, hello, stranger," she greeted Sjan-dehk with a playful grin. "Fancy seeing you here."

“Kali,” Sjan-dehk greeted, a tinge of genuine surprise in his voice. He hadn’t expected to see her here – or during the morning, for that matter – but her presence was one that brought him some relief. It was good to have someone else with whom he could speak freely.“Believe me, I didn’t want to be here, but orders are orders, and…” He waved his hand vaguely towards each person at the table. “It’s a good place to learn how your people do things, I suppose.”

Kalliope then turned to the knight who had taken Riona's seat. "Mind moving over a bit, dog?" she asked, her voice laced with contempt.

Sjan-dehk couldn’t help but snicker at how the Kalliope addressed the knight. As far as rebukes went, it was mild – if it was even one – but it was at least something. “Are soldiers…Or warriors, knights, whatever you call them, here all like him?” He didn’t quite expect an answer, and it was a rather rude thing to ask. So, he quickly changed the topic. “Anyway, how’re you feeling? Last night was a rough one, wasn’t it? Parts of me are still bloody aching.”

A soft giggle escaped the woman as she glanced back at the captain. ”Truthfully, I’m a bit achy and I slept like absolute shit. I prefer to lose sleep doing other things, but I’ll survive, though. I always do.” The words slipped out of her mouth without a second thought.

Memories of how the two of them dealt with the thugs in the slums returned to his mind. It hadn’t actually been that hard of a fight – it had just been a tedious one, and one that took more time and more effort than Sjan-dehk would have cared to spend. But it wasn’t a waste; he gained at least two things from it. One, he performed his good deed of the day. And two, he learned that Kalliope was a proper and respectable menace in a fight.

The Knight kept his mouth shut as he continued to listen to what the Viserjantan was saying. Taking notes in his head though he had a feeling that his mistress was half-listening in on occasion.

Kalliope then turned back to the rest of the group and, as if something had dawned on her, she spoke once more. ”Oh! Apologies! I seem to forget that while I know who most of you are, you may not actually know me! I’m Kalliope Arden, emissary to King Edin. I do know there are at least two faces here I do not recognize. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” She said as she glanced at Kira first, then at Iyen. The look she gave Iyen, however, was calculating.

The look Kalliope gave Iyen didn’t pass unnoticed by the latter. But rather than feeling unsettled, however, Iyen instead felt amused. Her eyes flitted between Kalliope and Sjan-dehk, and as she took in their brief exchange, her grin grew wider and wider. “My, Captain, sounds like you had a wild night,” she said and leaned over the table to look at Kalliope. “And with someone so pretty, no less! You’re doing well for yourself, Sjan-dehk.”

Sjan-dehk sighed. “This is Iyen,” he introduced, gesturing towards her. “Rasehnyas Iyen. She’s a–”

“The Captain and I are very good friends,” Iyen cut in, casting a knowing look to Sjan-dehk, one which was answered with confusion. She ignored it and continued to address Kalliope. “I didn’t think anyone here could speak our language. No wonder you get along so well with our Captain, well enough to spend the night together.”

“Iyen, I think you’re misunderstanding something,” Sjan-dehk said with a sigh. “We went to have a fight with a street gang. Nothing more.” Part of him wanted to add that Kalliope already had a partner in her life, but he ultimately thought it best not to. It wasn’t his information to share.

“Never implied the two of you did anything else,” Iyen teased, her eyes shifting between Kalliope and Sjan-dehk. Then, she placed a hand on Sjan-dehk’s shoulder. “And knowing you, it wouldn’t be anything we haven’t already done before.”

Kalliope's eyes sparkled with a mix of irritation and amusement as she met Iyen's gaze. "Well, Iyen, you know what they say about good friends," she said, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "Sometimes they just need a change of scenery to keep things interesting." She leaned in closer to Sjan-dehk, her smile widening as she added, "Besides, some things are just better when they're new, don't you think?"

Sjan-dehk wasn’t quite sure what to think. There was something hanging in the air between both women, and though he didn’t know what it was, he knew he wanted nothing to do with it. “Can’t say I disagree,” he said as neutrally as possible in response to Kalliope, but then swiftly blunted his words by continuing with, “But familiarity’s comfort is just as good, if you ask me. I’m learning that just by being here. Here in your lands, I mean. Discovering new things is interesting, but it also makes me think of home.”

Iyen was about to say something – Sjan-dehk could hear her drawing in a breath – but he acted first, raising a hand and shooting her a pointed glare to stop her. Whatever game she was trying to play, he wasn’t going to have any of it. Iyen merely shrugged and smirked. “Don’t mind my pet idiot here,” Sjan-dehk said slowly as he turned back to Kalliope. The sound of Iyen’s giggles was almost threatening. She was definitely plotting something; he just didn’t know what it was, and that unsettled him greatly. “She’s just bored and looking for fun where there’s none.”

”Nothing wrong with trying to find a little fun in dull situations.” She said simply, a slight grin on her face as she glanced back to the other unfamiliar face who seemed to be introducing herself to her.

“It is lovely to meet you too, Kalliope Arden; I am Kira Lockhart.” She replied and bowed her head respectfully. Her gaze moved from Lorenzo and Morrigan (what was happening down there?), to Charlotte (her eyes fixated briefly on her), then to Leo and back to Kalliope and the foreigners.

“...I want the scones.” Charlotte announced.

Kira scanned the menu and her eyes lit up with delight. ”Good choice. I’ll have the Three-Cheese Macaroni.” She replied and shut her menu and set it on the table.

“Did someone say… feast?!” In stepped a Royal Curd waiter with the biggest smile on the room and his eyes glistening with anticipation. It was only slightly unsettling.

Kira wished they were private–she was unamused by this man’s face. A disapproving and pointed narrowed gaze flashed across her face–then her trademark stoic expression returned.

“Ladies and gentlemen, lords and dukes, foreigners and servants, greetings! Or should I say gratings! My name is Chad, but you may call me Mr. Chaddar Cheese and I will be servicing your table through this most cheesy lactatious experience! I heard scones for the little princess over here, no-relation-to-the-Danrose-family, and a not one, not two, but threeeeee cheeeeeeese macaroniiiii!” Chad jotted down the orders onto a yellow cheese-themed notepad before his face sprang back up to take the next requests.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Charlotte, Lorenzo, Leo, Riona, Sjandehk, Iyen, Kira, and Morrigan

PART 2
Location: The Royal Curd

Kira entered the Royal Curd with her head held high. She glanced around the restaurant with a stoic expression. They had spent money building this shithole restaurant? Why was there a cheese fountain? The yellow caused her stomach to churn. Kira glanced around at the tables. There were two options she calculated: the royals table - which were unlikely to be friendly, and difficult with Prince Dickhead at the helm; or the lesser nobles, with an option of friendlier company and the rare appearance of a Flamingo. Despite her own wishes, she knew which one she had to choose.

With a charismatic smile donned upon her face and the sweetness returning, Kira swaggered to the Vikena table with the flamingo, the foreigners, a servant, and the ridiculous Vikenas. ”Well good morning,” Kira greeted sweetly, ”is there any room at this table? I’m not sure where else to sit.” Her expression remained sweet and her gaze doe-eyed and innocent.

Leo immediately stood up and pulled out the chair between Charlotte and him for the newcomer. Partially to ensure his reputation as a proper gentleman remained intact, after Riona’s clear attempt at sabotage, but the fact that she was attractive helped too. “Then sit here.” He offered, with a polite bow and gestured to the open seat. Again he introduced himself.

“Oh, so now he’s got manners,” Iyen muttered beneath her breath. “Our nobleboy here must be thinking with his cock.”

Sjan-dehk shushed her, earning him a glare and roll of the eyes from Iyen. “I don’t disagree, but we can’t afford to be so…” He trailed off, thinking of the right word. “Aggressive.” His lips curled into a momentary frown. Iyen did have a point – the difference in how the pink man approached this newcomer and how he treated his servant was beyond stark. “Remember, we’re not here to start a fight. Just to observe.”

Iyen sighed and tried to relax. “I don’t envy you, Sjan-dehk. This is all too new for me.”

“It was for me, at first,” Sjan-dehk said, placing a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, a gentle smile on his face. He waited until Iyen returned the smile with a hesitating one of her own before addressing the newcomer.

The woman looked familiar, but at the same time, not. Perhaps he had caught a glimpse of her at the temple? It didn’t quite matter, either way, but there was something – something Sjan-dehk couldn’t quite place – about her that struck him as strange. Her voice sounded a little too sweet, her eyes a touch too ingenuous for the rest of her face. Sjan-dehk quickly pushed such thoughts aside. This courtly atmosphere was likely making him see things that weren’t there.

His weapons clattered as he stood, the noise conspicuous against the idle murmurs of idle talk buzzing throughout the restaurant. “Wasun Sjan-dehk,” he greeted with a hand on his chest and a slight bow of his head. “Of Jafi, of Viserjanta.”He was about to introduce Iyen as well, but then had an idea. She would never learn if he did everything for her. And so, he instead simply cast an expectant glance at her.

“Oh, right,” she said and hurriedly stood up. “Rasehnyas Iyen Jodhesi. Uh…” She looked over to Sjan-dehk, who at first shrugged, but then mouthed the words she needed to say. “Of Sudhrayar and Viserjanta.”

She quickly sat back down, followed shortly by Sjan-dehk. He grinned at her. “Well done. A few more of those and you’ll be ready to take over these duties from me.”

Iyen gave him a playful slap on the arm and chuckled. “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to learn to speak their tongue, and not give me a reason to stay illiterate?” There was something Sjan-dehk could – and wanted to – say in response to that, but he thought it better to keep it to himself. And so, he said nothing.

Charlotte managed a smile toward the new girl, “Good morning.”

Riona pushed the Lordling’s chair back in as soon as he leaped out of it, then started toward the seat offered by the kind foreigner. She took a moment to bow to the newcomer on her way there—a woman she recognized from church. There was something off about her. A fakeness that clung to her smile, her voice, and her wide-eyed innocence. It all reminded Riona of someone. But who?

The answer came in a sickeningly sweet voice that twisted Riona’s stomach. “Well, hello there!” Lady Morrigan floated to them, her smile dazzling, her presence deceptively soft and airy.

When she reached the table, Morrigan let out a little gasp at the sight of the bright flamingo. As if there was any chance she hadn’t noticed it from a mile away. “Lord Leo Smithwood, what an eye-catching shade of pink! Is this for the event?” Her laugh was a carefully crafted melody. “You’ve truly outdone yourself. I’ll be sure to mention your enthusiasm to His Majesty.”

“I am simply tickled pink to see his Royal Majesty’s service today.” Leo replied.

Violet eyes danced over to the newcomer and the two foreigners. She clasped her hands in apparent glee. “I see new faces! Welcome! Thank you for attending the grand opening of The Royal Curd. My name is Morrigan. I’m delighted all of you could join us.”

Her attention shifted to the Vikenas. “Lorenzo! Charlotte!” she trilled, gliding into the seat beside the Duke and placing her hand over his just as smoothly. “Far too long since our last chat. How are you two faring these days?”

While Morrigan flitted about, one of her knights casually slipped past Riona and claimed the seat meant for her. The Knight’s flat stare said it all.

“Hello Morrigan. Very nice to see you… I am faring just fine, and… you?” Charlotte politely told her, but she seemed distracted as she lightly bounced her leg under the table. She soon rose abruptly, excusing herself in a mutter as she approached a waitress. Lorenzo haphazardly reached out to her but felt himself pinned to the table by Morrigan’s featherweight hand rested on his own. In truth, he simply lacked the energy to have much conviction in his actions this morning. Besides, Charlotte was not prone to being a victim of strange antics like he was but he'd still watch her. There was a brief exchange, and the waitress pointed to an unoccupied chair against the wall. Charlotte proceeded to pick it up and walk it over to their table herself. Finally, she situated it between herself and Lorenzo. With a smile and undecipherable emotions dancing behind her eyes, she looked toward Riona and presented a hand her way.

“Uh… well yes, uh, please… between Lady Charlotte and I.” This was unexpected but he'd roll with it. There were more pressing matters anyhow as his eyes shifted down to Morrigan's friendly hand on his. Lorenzo's eyes trailed from the hand until he soon found himself staring in the woman right in the face. Leaning in he whispered to her. “Apologies, but, we've met?”

Whatever Duke Lorenzo whispered into Morrigan’s ear caused her laugh, “Why, Lorenzo! You certainly know how to make a woman feel special, don’t you?” She then leaned in close so that only he could hear.

“We’ve bumped into each other before. More than a few times, actually. But I suppose I was never important enough to leave a lasting impression, was I? It’s alright, though. Even my parents forgot I existed most days.” Her reply caused Lorenzo to cover his mouth to conceal a gasp. Morrigan had successfully made him feel guilty for failing to recall her, and she was just getting started with him.

Another laugh, another joke that Riona couldn’t catch. Morrigan gave the Duke a playful swat on the arm before that hand slipped underneath the table. Based on the Duke’s reaction, Riona guessed that Morrigan’s hand had found its way to his thigh. The woman had no concept of personal boundaries. She leaned in once more, her lips nearly brushing his ear as she whispered.

“And you were never the sort of gentleman to partake in my particular talents.”

T-t-t-talents?” Lorenzo glanced to his right to find Charlotte but the distance between them had doubled. Lorenzo was stranded! What was the man to do?

A few seats around the table, Sjan-dehk was learning plenty of new faces and names today, and he accepted that he wouldn’t remember even half of them by sunset. And so, when Morrigan appeared, he stood up, offered her a simple greeting, introduced both himself and Iyen, and sat back down. It didn’t seem as if she had much interest in the two Viserjantans, anyway – she seemed more taken by Charlotte’s father. That suited Sjan-dehk just fine; he was too busy glaring daggers at the knight who had so rudely brushed the pink man’s servant aside.

He chewed on his lip. Had this been Jafi, things would have been simple. Sjan-dehk could have simply used his authority as a Captain – or the Fourth Lesser Marquis – and either ordered the man to stand, threatened him with punishment for his lack of propriety, or both. But he doubted he could do any of that here without starting some violent confrontation of some sort.

And so, despite it sitting uneasily with him, Sjan-dehk said nothing. Nothing in a language that a knight of Caesonia would understand, in any case.

“You must feel very strong,” he said with a deceptive smile, before swiftly translating. “Ah, sorry, I mean, your armour looks strong. Very good.”

… Was he seeing things or did that faint self-deprecating smile appear on the knight’s face before he made the translation?

“You should translate it properly.” The whispered words were hot against his ear, and it came as enough of a surprise that Sjan-dehk flinched, and would have yelped had he not caught himself in time. He spun around just as Iyen leaned back, laughing quietly as she did so.

“And start a fight? No thanks,” Sjan-dehk replied. “Not here, anyway.”
Iyen giggled, adjusting the shirt of his that she wore like a cape around her shoulders. “This is a lot more comfortable than I thought it’d be,” she remarked. “I almost want to keep it for myself.”

“Did you think it’d be made of sailcloth– Actually, don’t answer. I already know what you’re going to say.” Without thinking, he reached across and tightened the knotted sleeves resting between Iyen’s collarbones. “That would’ve slipped in no time at all. Months at sea should’ve taught you a thing or two about ropework, I’d have hoped.”

Just then, Charlotte stood up, and for a moment Sjan-dehk was alarmed. Had he missed some important thing or other? He quickly looked over to her, and felt relieved when he saw that she was pulling a chair over for the pink man’s servant. After seeing how the poor lady was treated by her lord, it heartened Sjan-dehk to see a noblewoman do something for her, and he showed his appreciation by giving Charlotte a little wave and a smile. “Thank you,” he said, loud enough for her ears.

Morrigan finally turned to Riona. “Kitten! You came too? How lovely to see you.” Her gaze swept the table, taking in the seating arrangement. Her eyes went wide, and she pressed her fingers to her lips in a gesture of feigned dismay. “Oh dear, did we just take your seat?” Right on cue, her eyes began to glisten. “How utterly rude of me. Pet,” she called her Knight, “be an angel and let her sit there.” She then noticed Lady Charlotte bringing over another chair. “Perfect! You can sit in that chair instead, pet.”

Even worse! I'm not only stranded, but TRAPPED!

Just as the Knight moved to stand, Riona cut in. “Thank you, My Lady, but that is quite alright. I will sit elsewhere.” Anywhere but near her. Leo couldn’t hide his grin, pleased with the outcome. That grin didn’t go unnoticed by Iyen, who balled her hands into fists and would have surely said something had Sjan-dehk not placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Nobles here carry more weight, I think,” he remarked.

“Getting jealous?” Iyen’s tone was snappier than usual, and she sighed. “Sorry, I–”

Sjan-dehk turned that firm grip into a gentle pat, and shook his head. “It’s alright. Getting used to how they do things here will take time.” He glanced sideways at her with a toothy grin. “And no, I don’t think there’s any reason for me to be jealous. Not like there’s much more I can do as just a Fourth Lesser Marquis. Better to be Captain of Sada Kurau.”

Thank the gods for this servant! Now to figure out how to remove this slithering hand from my thigh without adding more insult after forgetting who she was.

Riona inclined her head to the assembled group. “Enjoy your meal.” To Sh*tlord, she added, “Lord Smithwood, send for me when you are ready to depart.” Formality dictated that, as his attendant, she was supposed to keep an eye on him and swoop in at the right moment, but he’d just have to fetch her himself.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Alexander and Countess Liliane Damien

Time: Morning, between the time Lily left Cassius and when she returns

Location: Alley outside Tough Tavern

Mention:@Tpartywithzombi Violet

---

“Preferably.” A speck of seduction sprinkled into the single word reply as he took her arm. The two stepped outside, with Alexander dawning his umbrella first for the two to share. “This way.” He led them just around the corner at the mouth of the alley beside the tavern.

“Countess, before I say anything, I would like to share that the Black Rose is using much of the company's resources to locate your daughter and see to it she makes it home safely and that your family owes us nothing.”

“It’s so appreciated, Alexander.” Liliane adjusted her position to face him.
“Really. You’ve all been so darling… Might I inquire if there is anything that can be done to improve Violet’s quality of life as well? Her difficulty with her condition deeply stresses my husband and I.”

Alexander's mask slightly cracked upon the mention of Violet's condition. Does she know? His widened eyes peered into Liliane's. No, that's not possible. He abruptly shook his head apologetically with an embarrassed smile.

“Apologies. I- Well, it's not important. What's important is me addressing your question.” He recovered and took a breath as he prepared to share his guidance. “I understand you are having a difficult time and wish to keep things in-house. Those with the strongest hearts do not wish to see their burdens be placed on others.” His hand clasped hers firmly. “But you should consider allowing the Black Rose Company to assist in keeping a watchful eye on your daughter, especially after what we uncovered last night. It's troubling, Liliane.” His brows furrowed with concern.

Concern filled her expression. “What ever did you uncover?” Alexander made sure to look around to ensure their privacy before leaning toward her until their cheeks were beside each other as he spoke into her ear.

“We found a dress matching what Violet planned to wear for the masquerade party. The torso was covered in blood. But… we failed to find a tear or disturbance on the dress. It's a good sign the blood doesn't belong to her, though that does pose a question. Whose blood is it?” Alexander retracted his face from hers, his expression stern and serious. “The murder of a stable boy occurred last night. Decapitation with no body to be found. No suspects as of yet.”

Liliane’s eye twitched and she sighed deeply. Her gaze faltered as she took in the information.
“...It seems that I must indeed request the assistance that you have offered, Mr. Deacon.”

“Do not sound so defeated, Liliane. Your family has established strong ties with us. We'll keep things under control… but you have to be willing to hand us the reins so we may do just that. Your husband, as great of a protector that is, is no longer enough I'm afraid. Focus on keeping your family together and we will focus on keeping you and your loved ones protected.” He smiled to lift her spirits. “I recommend your husband speak to Marek promptly when the opportunity arises. As for you, if you need to speak to a representative of the Black Rose in private, reach out to myself. About anything”

Liliane smiled graciously and took his hand in hers. “You’re a saint, Mr. Deacon. I am certain he’ll be seeing Marek again very soon.”

“Great, I will see if I can… make Marek more available to him.” Alexander tilted his head toward the Tavern entrance before leading Lianne over. “As for saints, the true saint is yourself, Liliane. The purest person I've come across in this decorated den of lies. Keep that smile, keep that warmth. It's indeed a treasure even I am envious of lacking. Farewell Countess Damien, dear.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Charlotte, Lorenzo, Leo, Riona, Sjandehk,and Iyen

PART 1
Location: The Royal Curd

Charlotte scanned the menu, her eyes darting over the various dishes with a mixture of confusion and amusement written all over her countenance. As she looked up briefly, she noticed a familiar figure passing by. Her face brightened with recognition as he waved at her.

She smiled and waved back, beckoning him and his friend to join her at the table if they so wished.

Iyen was the one who noticed Charlotte’s wave, and responded with a smile and a wave of her own. “I think work has to wait, Sjan-dehk. Your new friend’s asking us to join her,” she said and gave Sjan-dehk a nudge with her elbow.

“You mean, you want to join her,” Sjan-dehk replied flatly. He shook his head. “I won’t stop you if that’s what you want to do, but I’m staying.”

“Come on,” Iyen pleaded, almost whining. “You know I can’t talk to them on my own! I need you there.”

Sjan-dehk fixed her with a hard look. Then, he smirked. “Sounds like a you problem, to me. And besides, I’m already in enough trouble with Lady Adiyan because of what you told her. I’m going to do the job she gave me properly.”

Iyen stuck her tongue out at him and folded her arms. “It’s no fun sitting here on our own. We’re not going to learn anything, you know that, right?”

As much as Sjan-dehk was loath to admit, Iyen did have a point. Keeping to themselves wasn’t going to do them many favours. And he supposed that the pale girl’s company – based on what little he had seen the other day – wouldn’t be the worst around. “Fine,” he grumbled. “If it’ll shut you up, but I’ll have you know that I’m doing this against my own free will and judgement.”

Iyen stood up with a giggle. “Oh, you’re adorable as always, Shanya,” she teased. “You gave up both when you agreed to take me with you.”

Sjan-dehk didn’t deign to reply. He led Iyen to the girl’s table, bowing his head in greeting as he approached. Iyen glanced at him for a moment, then followed suit. “Good morning,” he said and offered both the girl and her – he assumed – parent a smile. “Thank you for inviting me. I mean, us. This is–” he gestured to Iyen “–Rasehnyas Iyen. She is friend.”

“Hello,” Iyen chirped and waved. Without waiting for anything else, she took her seat. Sjan-dehk sighed and did the same.

“Who taught you your manners? A sardine?” He shot her a disapproving look.

Iyen responded with a cheeky grin. “I’ll not take advice on manners from a provincial,” she said and nodded to Charlotte. “You never gave me her name, by the–” She cut herself off when she noticed the flush coming over Sjan-dehk’s cheeks. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Sjan-dehk nodded. “Didn’t think I’d need to, to be honest.”

Iyen rolled her eyes. “And you were going to lecture me on manners?” She turned her attention back to the girl with a friendly smile. Twirling a lock of her dark hair around a finger, Iyen leaned forward and said, “Sorry. My friend, the Captain, he is idiot. Your name, what is it?”

“Good morning, it’s lovely to have the two of you join us. Please feel free to have a seat. ” Charlotte politely greeted. Her gaze shifted to Iyen and she said softly, “ My name is Charlotte, however…Most call me Lottie.”

“Thank you. But we sit, already,” Iyen replied with a cheeky grin, her chin resting on the backs of her hands. “You are very…” She began, but soon trailed off. Her features squeezed together in thought, and then she turned to Sjan-dehk. “How do you say ‘pretty’ in this local language?”

Sjan-dehk shrugged. “I’m not helping you with this.”

Iyen stuck her tongue out at him again. “You’re never going to find a partner with that attitude of yours. Learn to have some fun, why don’t you?”

“Oh, are those the words of someone who’s nothing left to say?” Sjan-dehk said nonchalantly as he picked up his hat to inspect its woven bamboo strips. The glance he gave Iyen from behind it was full of impish mischief and amusement. “I’d gladly help if you were being sincere, but you’re you, and I’m me, and we both know you’re doing this for a laugh. You’re on your own.”

Iyen grumbled beneath her breath.“I guess even provincials are right sometimes,” she muttered and cleared her throat. Looking back at Charlotte, she said in a rather awkward voice, “You–You are uh…Very…” She waved her hands over her own face. “Look very good.”

Sjan-dehk’s barely repressed chuckle was easily heard. “Apologies,” he said and did his best to calm his expression. “She is still not good with your words. Very new and no practice, yes?”

Charlotte’s eyes darted between the two for a moment, before she covered her mouth to emit a brief giggle. “Oh she is sweet…” She clasped her hands together and smiled at the girl, “Thank you! …You look wonderful, Iyen.”

Iyen returned the smile. “Thank you. That is–” That was as far as she got before two newcomers interrupted her.

Leo glanced between two tables; one held almost exclusively royals while a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces sat at the other. Easy choice there, he did not want to spend brunch explaining to royalty why, when even he didn’t know, he was entirely pink. Charlotte, Lorenzo, and some unfamiliar faces were the better option. He should figure out if those he didn’t recognize were worth knowing, and Leo subtly gestured at the table so that Riona could attend to his chair. “Good afternoon,” He bowed respectfully before approaching the chair.

Riona inclined her head to the group already at the table before pulling out a chair for His Lordliness. Once he was settled, she backed off a few paces and stood still as a statue. Nothing to do now but wait.

… And stare at the aggressively yellow decor of The Royal Curd. Gods above, it was an assault on the eyes. The gold just made the yellow yellower, casting the white surfaces in a sallow light. Made the guests look like they had jaundice too.

“Lord Leo Smithwood, heir of Stravy, pleasure to meet you.” He added, introducing himself. This time when his chair was pulled out he did not allow Riona any chance to attempt to pull the chair away from him. Instead, Leo hooked his foot around one of the legs and pulled it forward as he sat in a smooth motion. “And Duke Vikena, exceptionally dressed, as expected.” He added, smiling at both Lorenzo and Charlotte.

The former briefly removed his gaze from the menu to awkwardly blink at Leo’s absurd pigmentation. Sunburn? But the hair too? I... The young man has always worn a strong face. To do so now while enduring such… This is simply strange.

“You as well, young lord. You never fail to honor your father’s name with your… er… representation at these fine events. He’d be proud.” Lorenzo just wanted to pretend Leo did not appear as he did. Quickly returning his attention to the menu helped. A wide and sincere grin overtook Leo’s face at the Duke’s complement.

Charlotte glanced toward Leo and Riona as they joined the group, her skin paling slightly at the sight of her pink friend. She managed to control her reaction, though her eyes widened momentarily as she greeted him with a wave. Setting her sights on Riona, her mind drifted to their brief exchange at the dinner. A smile formed on her lips and she gestured for her to sit if she so pleased.

Riona acknowledged the invitation with a dip of her chin, but made no move to sit. Couldn’t, not without permission from her charge or someone of higher standing than him.

So she just studied the future duchess, trying to puzzle out how a seemingly decent sort like her could stand being friends with an arrogant, juvenile prick like Sh*tlord. It boggled the mind.

But then, Lady Charlotte seemed all too willing to overlook Lordling Smithwood’s many shortcomings. Could she really be clueless about the way he looked down his nose at the “unwashed masses,” especially those in service? He didn’t exactly hide his contempt, but maybe he reined it in while Lady Charlotte was within earshot.

Or… could it be that she simply chose not to see his uglier side? Too afraid of jeopardizing their friendship to ever call him out on his behavior or beliefs? They went way back after all, and with the ostracization the Vikenas experienced, she probably couldn’t stomach the thought of losing her childhood friend, even if he was a jerk.

The sight of a man who was completely pink – and not in the sunburnt way that Sjan-dehk could at least understand – was surprising, to say the least. Just as surprising was the apparent lack of reaction from those at the table. Was this perhaps an example of Caesonian high fashion? He didn’t discount that possibility; even within the Commonwealth, certain peoples had tastes that were odd, to say the least.

He cleared his throat and nodded to the pink man. “Good morning.”

“Ah, yes. Good morning, also,” Iyen quickly added shortly after him. Her eyes wandered over to the woman standing behind the pink man, lingering on her for a moment before shifting to look at Sjan-dehk. “Why’s she just standing there?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“No idea,” Sjan-dehk replied, genuinely clueless. Maybe she was a servant? It seemed that way, by how she and the pink man – Leo was his name, if he heard correctly – interacted. But surely that didn’t mean she couldn’t sit. And so, using his foot, he roughly pulled out the chair directly beside him. “You, uh…Standing one,” he called to her. “Want to sit?”

At first, Riona didn’t realize that the man’s words had been meant for her. When she finally did, a gentle smile spread across her face and she bowed, deeper this time. “You are most kind, sir,” she said. “However, by Lord Smithwood’s measure, I am unfit to share a table with such fine company, much less break bread.” Riona straightened, her hands clasped before her, the picture of a perfect servant. “Thus, I must keep to my feet, as a reminder of my place.” She pointedly ignored Sh*tlord, keeping her warm gaze fixed on the other man. “Nevertheless, I am touched that you thought to offer a place at your table—and moreover for giving it voice… Thank you.”

Charlotte’s confusion was evident as she looked between Leo and Riona. She was almost certain Leo wouldn’t insist on the poor girl standing. She bit her lip, her brows furrowing slightly, but before she could say anything, Lorenzo stepped in. Leo glanced at Charlotte, still grinning from Lorenzo’s words, and merely rolled his eyes at Riona’s antics.

“Sit! The Vikenas do not like others standing around us while we sit. Especially servants, if we can help it.” This was mostly true and something Lorenzo was unable to help during the dinner with the Alidasht royal family due to him only being the guest of honor among other things that kept him far too distracted to mention his usual desires. “I would never want to give any impression of a servant standing over the one and only Duke of Vermillion like this. At the grand opening of Our Majesty’s Royal Curd, no less.” Lorenzo gave his best Duchess Victoria Edwards impression, crinkling his nose and grimacing in disgust at the thought being seen in the bad light he described. “Make haste before I lose my appetite for the Volcano Vortex…”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up with understanding. She straightened up and tried to mimic his tone, though her natural sweetness and hesitancy made it a bit awkward. “Yes! This is true!” She declared, trying to sound authoritative. “We simply cannot have someone standing over us like that.” She ended her attempt with a subtle wink toward Riona.

Confusion filled Sjan-dehk’s eyes as his gaze alternated between the standing girl and the seat he had offered her. Part of him wondered if he had missed some subtle meaning in her words; it didn’t sound to his ears like she was talking about accepting a seat. If anything, the way she had spoken and the phrases she had used made Sjan-dehk wonder if he had accidentally promised her something far grander. A ship taken by force of arms, for example. But the responses from both Charlotte and her father told him that he hadn’t misunderstood anything. Not on that point, in any case.

Iyen, however, who couldn’t quite parse all that had been said, only knew one thing. The woman wasn’t allowed to sit by her lord – or whatever they were. “Fuck that nonsense,” she muttered darkly beneath her breath and immediately rounded on the pink man, whom she assumed to be the aforementioned lord. “What she mean, unfit–”

Sjan-dehk quickly grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back before she made things any worse. Although he had to admit, the idea of someone standing while he sat and ate made him feel very uneasy. Any Viserjantan noble who tried enforcing such a thing would find themselves swiftly sanctioned for failing to observe the proper niceties. But they were not in Viserjanta, as he had to remind himself so many times over the course of so few days. What he considered to be inalienable courtesies were, as it turned out, quite alienable.

“Calm yourself,” he said quietly, but Iyen wasn’t having any of it.

“I am calm,” she protested. “And I’ll calmly put my boot up his–”

Sjan-dehk momentarily tightened his grip on her shoulder, which quietened her. “We can’t start a fight. Not now, anyway.” He released her. With a grin on his face,” he added, “And besides, didn’t we already decide that I’m the one who starts the fights?”

Iyen folded her arms and sighed. “You’re right,” she grumbled. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”

With that settled, Sjan-dehk turned his attention back to the standing woman. “This place, this is place for people to eat, yes? Then your place is to sit and eat. And also–” he gestured to Iyen, then to himself “–she is not noble and I am only small noble. If you must stand, then it is fair that we also stand with you. That will make others unco-uncomfar-” He drew in a deep breath, tried to ignore Iyen’s giggling, and tried again. “That will make others uncomfortable, yes? And that is not good. So you must sit.”

“Riona, please sit down, you are clearly making everyone very uncomfortable.” Leo did not bother to look at her as he spoke, but a mild look of annoyance replaced his grin. “She is dramatic and holds a very loose grip on reality.” He added. Truthfully, Leo didn’t care if Riona sat or not, he’d just prefer if she sat somewhere else. Like another continent, one that took years to travel to would be even better.

Sjan-dehk couldn’t stop himself from scowling when he heard the pink man speak. That he was being incredibly rude – to someone who served him, no less – was one thing. But he hadn’t just been rude, he had essentially placed words in Sjan-dehk’s mouth. Wisdom told him that it would be best if he kept his mouth shut, but Sjan-dehk never professed to be a wise man. And so, he spoke. “Not what I mean,”he said in a tone that was a touch terser than was probably polite.

There was more he wanted to say, such as how this pink lordling could do with some lessons in basic respect, but Sjan-dehk held his tongue. For now, at least.

The pleasant warmth that had blossomed in Riona’s chest when the others invited her to join them evaporated the instant the Lordling opened his mouth. He was gaslighting them, her included. Well then…

“My Lord,” Riona said, pressing her hand on her chest. “I had no idea you considered me your equal. Without the ability to read minds, I could only draw conclusions based purely on your choice of words. If I have been mistaken, please, set the record straight.” She gestured to the table, “Tell me plainly that you see me as more than a mere ant and that you would welcome me at your table.” Of course, he’d do no such thing. And if he did, it would only be to avoid losing face in front of the Vikenas, not because he meant it. Still, there might be some small satisfaction to hear him say that out loud in front of them. Whichever it went, she hoped they’d remember what he did—and did not—say or do. Her money was on him trying to dodge her challenge entirely.

“This is not the theater, Riona, the dramatics will end. Take a seat, or find somewhere else to be where you are not looming over the table. A request from Duke Vikena should be more than enough instruction.” Leo’s reply was direct and his annoyance with the situation was clear.

And there it is.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

King Edin’s Meet and Greets

_{Mentions: @TpartywithZombi Violet, Ariella @PapaOso Cassius @Helo Callum @Silverpaw Wulfric}

Meet and Greet 1

King Edin and Count Calbert

Count Calbert Damien was the first to take a seat before King Edin, a clear agenda on his mind. His steps were deliberate as he navigated through the throngs of guests, standing out in his blue suit.

As he approached King Edin, who was still seated on his throne, Calbert caught the eye of the royal attendant. With a subtle nod, he signaled his desire for a private audience with the king. The attendant, recognizing the count's status, quickly whispered to King Edin, who gave a slight nod of approval.

Calbert stepped forward, his face adorned with a practiced smile. He bowed deeply before the king. "Your Majesty, it is an honor as always." he began smoothly.

King Edin nodded, allowing a small smile to touch his lips. "Count Damien, rise and take a seat."

Calbert straightened up, his eyes gleaming."Your Majesty, I come to discuss several important matters. But first, allow me to commend you on the grandeur of this event. It is truly a spectacle of magnificence. The ceremony was nothing short of extraordinary, and it is clear that your reign is a blessing to us all. Your generosity to feed so many of us after blessing us under a morning under the Gods’ gazes is not overlooked. "

King Edin's smile widened. "You are too kind, Count Calbert. It is always a pleasure to witness my efforts recognized with such appreciation. I labor tirelessly for this kingdom and deserve every commendation bestowed upon me. Truly, where would the kingdom be without my wise and benevolent guidance?” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, “ So many would find themselves hopelessly adrift without my steady hand to lead them."

Calbert leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, "And that painting, what an abomination it was to see it defaced. Such disrespect to a symbol of your greatness is utterly dreadful. It is fortunate that we have a ruler as wise and composed as yourself to handle such affronts."

Edin's eyes darkened momentarily at the mention of the painting, but Calbert's words quickly soothed him. “Indeed, it was a disgrace. But rest assured, those responsible will be found and dealt with accordingly."

"Of course, Your Majesty. If there is anything I can do to assist, please do not fail to enlighten me.“

“It will be dealt with.” King Edin said simply, his attention turning downward as a waitress set his appetizer in front of him. He was staring straight at a creation of his face made of cheese, eyes made of olives staring back at him.

"...Your Majesty, if I may," Calbert began, his tone shifting to one of grave concern, "I must discuss the distressing situation regarding my missing daughter, Violet. She has been missing since last night and I fear for her safety. I request additional men and resources for a more extensive search. This matter requires the utmost priority. My family has been targeted consistently, and we need increased protection to prevent any further incidents."

King Edin’s eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into him as he intensely placed a forkful of cheese into his mouth.

He chewed slowly, the moment drawing out so long it quickly became awkward.

"...Count Calbert, your concerns are valid. We cannot allow such threats to persist. I will see to it that more resources are allocated for the search and for your family's protection."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Your support means everything to us," Calbert replied, bowing slightly before continuing. "On a different note, I wanted to discuss the potential matches between our children. My daughters, Violet and Crystal, and my son, Cassius, could make excellent matches for the princes and princess. It would be beneficial to keep the power amongst long-time Caesonian nobility. We all know the Varian and Alidasht visitors will always be simply that… They will always remain loyal to their own kingdoms at the end of the day. "

King Edin stroked his beard, contemplating the proposal. "Indeed... We can certainly arrange something to explore these possibilities further." However, Edin's demeanor shifted as he brought up a sensitive topic rather quickly. "Speaking of your son, Cassius… We must also acknowledge that he is a bastard."

Count Calbert's face tightened.

“Now, now. Do understand and see from my eyes. Your first wife left not only you, but her position, and snatched your son from you, did she not? Such a shameful, disgraceful woman can not be trusted to raise a man of caliber. “

Calbert’s voice was measured but tense as he replied, "Your Majesty, Cassius is a capable and honorable man. I can assure you that."

King Edin seemed unfazed as he dove in for more cheese. "...Somehow… I doubt that …However, Anastasia does not appeal to important, well-mannered gentlemen in our kingdom anyhow. Perhaps it would be a good match after all. I would like to meet your bastard and see for myself what sort of creature we are dealing with, especially if he is to one day fall in your footsteps.”

Calbert clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to react. "As you say…I must remind you of the urgency regarding Violet's safety, then depart." With that, the count bowed stiffly, his anger barely concealed. "Thank you for your time, Your Majesty. I shall take my leave now."

King Edin, however, shrugged it off and licked his fingers.

Meet and Greet 2

King Edin and Duchess Victoria

Duchess Victoria approached King Edin's throne, her nose upturned as she made her way. She sat down hastily, and immediately began fussing with her hair, ensuring each strand was perfectly in place. Her gloved hands folded delicately in her lap, she cast a disdainful glance at King Edin, who was eating his cheese messily, crumbs falling onto his lap.

King Edin's enjoyment of his meal was apparent, but every bite he took seemed to offend the Duchess further. She grimaced visibly, her lips curling in disgust at his lack of decorum, and cleared her throat loudly. He looked up and glared at her.

"Your Majesty," she began, her voice dripping with disdain as she straightened her already impeccable posture, "I am here to discuss my daughters, Ariella and Priscilla. They are the epitome of beauty and grace, the perfect matches for your princes. No women in the kingdom can compare to their loveliness. And my son Drake is the perfect match for your pretty little Anastasia. "

King Edin paused his meal. "Indeed, Victoria... However, we must also address the matter of Ariella’s behavior. We discussed earlier how Callum has been a bad influence on her." She made a face. “... You attended the church ceremony, did you not? … I trust you saw the painting.”

Victoria sucked in her lips as a laugh bubbled in her throat, immediately recalling the defaced painting. " …I was very embarrassed for you, Your Majesty.”

“Do you also recall what you said to me about Callum and Ariella… And the rumors between them?”

“Ariella is better suited for Wulfric. Callum has a poor reputation and temperament. I see no future for my daughter with him."

“We found a small, slender footprint by the painting. and I have a strong feeling that this has something to do with them both… And I know your daughter has a reputation for her disdain for shoes... Thus, I would like your daughter present at the church tonight.”

“As if Ariella would ever go to a church on her own to deface a painting. She’s much too refined. ” she scoffed, though a bead of sweat betrayed her composure as it trickled down her cheek. “Your grace, Prince Callum is very mentally ill, as we all know. Surely, this is his doing?” The duchess opened her fan with a flourish and began to wave it at herself.

“If that is the case, then we shall see the truth tonight. She will be there, or I will have men drag her there... I wager neither of you want to endure the embarrassment of Ariella being dragged through the streets.”

Duchess Victoria stood, her posture rigid with pride. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will see to it personally."

With a final, disdainful glance at the cheese on King Edin's plate, she stood up and returned to her table where she sat with her husband Duke Gideon, Count Landon Monet, and his children.

Meet and Greet 3

King Edin and Grand Vizier Hafiz

Hafiz bowed respectfully, a charming smile on his lips. "Your Majesty," he said smoothly, "it is an honor to be in your presence."

King Edin returned the smile. "Grand Vizier, welcome. Please, sit. We have much to discuss."

Hafiz took a seat. "Your Majesty, it is evident that both Alidasht and Caesonia could greatly benefit from a strengthened alliance, particularly in light of the recent tensions. What are your thoughts on forging a closer relationship between our nations?"

"Indeed, Grand Vizier. I recall your heated reaction during the unfortunate incident involving Duke Vikena during your arrival. Once again, I extend my apologies for his pitiful conduct. It is imperative that we maintain our relations, and your suggestion aligns with my best interests." King Edin took another bite of food, his eyes briefly meeting Hafiz's before returning to his meal.

Hafiz glared at the face of cheese briefly while the King’s eyes had been averted. "Your Majesty, I am fully committed to ensuring the prosperity of Caesonia. While my brother tends to focus inward, Alidasht possesses abundant resources that could greatly benefit your kingdom. I stand ready to advise the Sultan on any matters you deem essential."

"...I have been contemplating the potential of our alliance. United, our kingdoms could achieve unparalleled power. The possibilities are limitless." King Edin wiped his lips with a napkin, his gaze sharpening.

Hafiz leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering. "Or perhaps, together, we could dominate those who oppose us… when the time is right, of course."

King Edin paused, his expression shifting as a slow smile spread across his face. The thought of a world without the Varian Kingdom, a world with Caesonia's dominance, tantalized him. "Indeed, the thought is most appealing."

Hafiz continued, his tone persuasive, "Your Majesty, envision the possibilities. Our combined forces could secure our interests and subdue any adversaries. A strategic marriage could further solidify our alliance. Princess Anastasia, for instance, would suit my needs for a wife. As Grand Vizier, I am well-positioned to ensure such a union is advantageous for both our realms. Perhaps one day, I could ensure such benefit in… a more powerful way."

King Edin's eyes gleamed with interest. "Anastasia, you say? A union of that nature would indeed fortify our ties. " He also enjoyed the idea of the girl being sent off to an entirely different nation.

Hafiz nodded, leaning in slightly. "Precisely, Your Majesty. A marriage between our families would symbolize unity.. and strength..."

King Edin pondered this, his mind racing with the possibilities. "You present a compelling argument, Grand Vizier. "

Hafiz's smile widened, "With your consent, Your Majesty, I would love to arrange a meeting with the princess."

King Edin nodded, his smile returning. "We shall proceed with your plan, Grand Vizier. Let us see where this path leads us."

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning
Location: Church of Sorian → The Royal Curd
Mentions: @TpartywithZombi Ariella @Helo Callum @PapaOso Milo

---

King Edin paced furiously back and forth in the grand hall of the church, his face flushed with anger. The service had long concluded and the painting was revealed before the group of people huddled around it.

"How could this have happened?" King Edin bellowed, turning to his staff with a look of confusion and fury. "This church was supposed to be locked last night!"

A member of the church staff, a young man with a nervous expression, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I... I forgot to lock up last night. I am so sorry."

King Edin's face turned a deeper shade of red. "You forgot to lock up? This is unacceptable! …You’re a buffoon!" He took a deep breath, trying to control his temper, but his voice still trembled with rage. "This painting is ruined because of your negligence. " He ran his hands through his hair and glared at the man, “This was painted by the Milo St. Claire!”

As he spoke, one of the staff members pointed to the floor near the painting. "Your Majesty, look. There’s a footprint here, faint but visible. It looks like someone stepped in the paint."

King Edin's eyes followed the direction of the pointed finger, and sure enough, there was a faint footprint in the paint. His mind began to churn, recalling a recent conversation with Duchess Victoria Edwards. Her voice filled his head:

"...and then, Your Majesty, he deliberately untied his shoes and removed his socks, right in the presence of ladies and gentlemen! He left his shoes and socks near me as if he were at some uncivilized gathering of homeless people..."

The king's thoughts turned to his youngest son, Callum, who was often the scapegoat for such incidents. "Callum," he muttered under his breath venomously, his anger building again. It was as if the very name was poison itself. "I'm going to wring his neck! Always, always him! It’s ALWAYS HIM!!"

The staff member gently placed a hand on King Edin's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "Your Majesty, perhaps we should have Prince Callum step in the paint... If his footprint matches, we will know for sure."

King Edin paused, his mind drifting back to the conversation with Victoria Edwards. He took a deep breath, his anger slowly giving way to a more thoughtful expression. "Yes," he said, nodding slowly. "...I'd like to be here tonight…. Bring Prince Callum Danrose… and Lady Ariella Edwards to the church. And bring a tin of paint. Have the Duke and Duchess attend as well."

“And if neither match?”

“Then we’ll have the whole damn kingdom come step in that fucking paint until I find that vile rat and exterminate it. “

The staff members nodded and hurried to carry out his orders. As they left, King Edin stood before the defaced painting, his mind still echoing with Duchess Victoria's words.

---

Thirty minutes later, King Edin arrived at the Royal Curd in a grand, dramatic fashion. The double doors swung open to reveal the king in his luxurious attire and crowned with an air of authority. He kept his head high, looking at no one as he made his way through the room, exuding a commanding presence that silenced the whispers and turned all eyes towards him as his knights in golden armor followed, the sound of the heavy footsteps audible.

As he approached the throne, a servant stepped forward, raising a trombone to their lips. The notes of a fanfare filled the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

"Hear ye, hear ye!" the announcer called out, his voice booming over the assembled guests. "Meet and greets with His Majesty, King Edin Danrose, will commence."

King Edin sat in his throne, his eyes fixed straight ahead. As the murmurs resumed, he finally allowed himself to survey the room, the weight of the earlier incident at the church still lingering in his mind.

A waitress moved to take his order immediately, her hands trembling slightly as she approached the king. She handed him the menu and King Edin's eyes flicked to her for a moment, cold and intense, before he looked down at the menu.

He pointed at the appetizer of choice with an intense finger jab onto the menu. The sharp movement made the waitress flinch, her face paling as she quickly nodded.

Without another word, she turned and hurried away, her steps quick and nervous. The king watched her go, his expression unchanging.

This is my hello

hi

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Gilbert & Delilah

Interactions:@Potter Olivia @Samreaper Kazumin

---

Delilah and Gilbert sat at a table rather nearby Olivia, strategically positioned so they were in her line of sight. Delilah's eyes sparkled with delight as she dipped a piece of brioche French toast into the bubbling pot of rich, velvety chocolate fondue they had ordered.

Beside her, Gilbert grumbled under his breath about the fuss but couldn't help but indulge. “It’s not better than the French toast I make.”

She nudged a plate of fresh strawberries and marshmallows towards him, her smile wide and encouraging. Despite his usual gruff demeanor, his eyes softened. "Slow down. You're going to give yourself a stomachache with all that sweetness," he cautioned.

“Your French toast is the best, Gilbert, but this is hitting the spo-Oh the skies above… Gilbert.”

“What.”

“Hunk alert. Hunk alert. Look who’s coming towards our Olivia.”

Gilbert's gaze shifted, and he couldn't help but notice the imposing figure of Roman as he sat down with Olivia. A flicker of something unidentifiable passed through his eyes as his gaze returned hastily to Delilah.

"He's that blacksmith from the Varian Kingdom," he replied, stabbing a piece of French toast with more force than necessary. "Nothing special."

"Oh, he’s something special alright. That’s a man right there. A man."

As they watched Olivia closely, her stutter and the way she clenched her fists around the menu didn't go unnoticed by Delilah. When Olivia glanced toward their table, Delilah offered her an encouraging smile and gave a small nod, while Gilbert grumbled under his breath, "Girl’s nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

“Think I heard him mention our Lottie’s name…” She leaned on one hand and twirled a strawberry on her fork in the air as she mused softly, "Where was she hiding this absolute God of a man?”

Gilbert folded his arms and asked, “So what’s happening now?”

“She’s bouncing her leg under the table… They’re talking… He’s laughing.”

“I heard the laugh.” Gilbert confirmed lowly.

“He’s showing her his palm and she’s totally freaking out.” Delilah informed Gilbert with a frown. Discreetly, she mouthed the word “breathe” to the girl.

“Why did that make her panic?”

“He must have offered to hold hands or something romantic.” Delilah smiled and finally bit into her strawberry.

Gilbert’s gaze lowered from her hand and down to his. All the while Delilah had been watching the conversation for the next few moments he had been watching her.

“She’s fidgeting again.” Delilah sighed and gave Olivia a warning glance.

“It’s as if I am Emina chastising little Lottie. What a dreadful position I have to be in… Alas, it’s important she fits in with them.” She looked at Gilbert again and smiled once more, “I surely could never pull it off… Could you?”

“Absolutely.” He told her gruffly with certainty. “I was raised a gentleman.”

She giggled and lightly touched his arm, “That sentence will come back to haunt you next time you shout at me to get out of the kitchen!” He audibly groaned with regret.

“She’s now giggling like a schoolgirl.” Gilbert commented with some judgment and an eyeroll.

“That’s a good sign.” Delilah said, “That means things are going well.”

“It’s unbecoming of a lady. Even I know that,” Gilbert grumbled.

“Oh? Well, you certainly don’t seem to mind when I giggle,” Delilah replied with a playful smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Gilbert's cheeks flushed a deep red, and he looked away, grumbling under his breath. "That's not true," he muttered, clearly flustered. "I don't fancy it at all." He avoided her gaze, focusing intently on his plate, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he was fighting a smile.

“Slouching.” Delilah suddenly reported, straightening up to get a better view as she gave Olivia a warning glare, “And… Elbows on the table.”

She sighed. “She’s doing it again. We have a lot of work to do. Oi!”

Delilah watched the next few moments with a growing somberness. “Don’t think it’s a match.” She perked up and tapped Gilbert’s hand, “Good practice for her though, right?”

Gilbert looked over his shoulder and caught sight of Olivia stuffing her face like she had been starved, which was not the case. He had been feeding the girl very well.

“Uh.”

“Dear Gods. She looks like a chipmunk.”

Soon enough, Gilbert alerted her to something more pressing, leaning in to say, “He just asked her about her home and family.”

“Oh no.” Delilah watched closely and focused intently on listening. She relaxed visibly as Olivia nailed it and gave her a kind nod.

“...How do you think Lottie’s doing?”

Her eyes fell on the chef with some surprise and she watched the worry swim in his eyes. “I don’t know. She still won’t tell me what happened last night… But I know something did… She did seem rather happy to spend some time with Duke Vikena at least.”

“...Is she safe…?” Gilbert's voice was tinged with concern.

Delilah held his gaze and asked, “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“I’ve been here as long as you have, Lilah, and if there’s anything I know better than cooking… It’s that you know when she isn’t safe, and you behave in a manner that always clues me in that she isn’t either.” Gilbert's eyes bore into hers.

Her gaze lowered and she said softly after a pause, “She will never be safe, Gilbert.”

His brows lifted in surprise.

“I don’t mean to be annoyingly vague… But I know you know more than you let on… I will inform you of more in a more private setting. I promise.”

Gilbert’s lips parted to reply, but Delilah was quick to speak. “Look. There’s Kazumin.” She rose from her seat to wave over the blonde before he could protest. “Hi sweetie! Remember me! …Want some toast?!”

“Oh Gods, why did you call that boy over?”

“Oh don’t be coy, Gilbert. I know you love the way he eats up every bit of your food… And Olivia’s about done with her date, so I am sure she’d appreciate seeing her friend. If they both come over, we’ll give them space to catch up, okay?”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning
Location: Church of Sorian
Attire:Dress, Flats, Crown and Earrings
Interaction: @Lava Alckon Farim @Rodiak Nahir @Silverpaw Wulfric

---

"Hey King! We're here for the cheese!" Anastasia echoed the peasant as she held Fayette's hands up in the air with a giggle, dancing with the child, who giggled along with the princess, as she repeated in a sing-song voice, "Here for the cheeseee!" She quieted down after receiving a cautionary glare from one of the guards but couldn't fully suppress her giggles, fits of laughter breaking through her lips.

Truthfully, Anastasia had no idea what her father was talking about half the time, but it sounded inspiring. She made sure to throw her fist in the air enthusiastically after each statement, which Fayette echoed. Beau also climbed on the pew to join them in their salute.

Once the portrait was revealed, Anastasia gasped, "That's... That's so beautiful." She whispered and nudged Farim's elbow. "I love it." She told him. "He looks so regal in that painting and... the horns! They symbolize how stubborn he is, like a bull, in the face of adversity. I totally get it!" The children applauded her statement, their eyes filled with awe.

"I love it too, mademoiselle! I draw mustaches like that as well!"

"Oh yes! It's magnificent!" Beau exclaimed, his hands moving to his cheeks with surprise.

Earlier than usual, the final song began playing. The orchestra always played the same one, and Annie remembered the words for the most part. So, Anastasia took the opportunity to sing along, moving out from the pew with the little girl still on her shoulders to dance in the aisle as she sang.

"In the heavens high, the gods do pain,
Zivitas’ light, guiding lame.
Triumpheus’ strength, a victor’s pride,
Amora’s love, forever on our sliiiiide!"

She reached down to take Beau's hands with a giggle, pulling the little boy into a dance with her. The children laughed and sang along, their voices blending with Anastasia’s.

"Ooooooo Edin, our king, divinely pissed,
In your rule, we find our wreeeeck!
Prince Wulfric, legacy in sand,
Guides our future, hand in saaaaand."

Anastasia twirled with Fayette on her shoulders, her voice ringing out clearly as she turned to serenade her Wulfric as his name came up in the song.

"Hail Edin, kiiiing and lies!
In your pain, the gods delight.
With Prince Wulfric, WISE! and STRONG!,
To gods and king, we raise this song!"

Once the song was over, she set Fayette down with her brother with a giggle. Both were beckoned by their father and she waved sweetly to them before turning to Farim, Nahir, and Wulfric. "That was a great time, but it's gonna be an even better time trying out this new restaurant. I've heard awesome things. You all can follow me... Includes you too Calby and Count Monet! Come along! " She then led the group of those interested along outside to a carriage, and they then traveled down the road to the restaurant.

"Oh my Gods! They give free cheese immediately at the fucking door! That's amazing!" She exclaimed upon entry. As she looked around the room, she took in the sight of all the cheese decor and clasped her hands together in pure delight. Once her eyes set upon the waitress, she beamed. "Wow you are a work of art, ma'am! Truly! I will remember you until the day I die." She dramatically proclaimed and helped herself to a cheese cube. She turned to Farim and presented a cheese cube for him to consume as she told him, "We can all sit at the table near my dad. We're special guests, so he won't mind!"

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time:Morning
Location: Church of Sorian --> The Royal Curd
Attire: Hair Style, Dress
Interaction:@FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

"Hey King! We're here for the cheese!"

As the peasants filled the seats around them, her attention shifted from her journal to the newcomers as their shout about cheese sliced through the solemn atmosphere of the church. Her pen paused above the page as she watched King Edin's barely controlled annoyance.

The absolute nerve of this man!

Edin's smile might have fooled the newcomers, but Charlotte saw right through it, and boy was she suddenly much more interested in the ceremony. The directness of their approach was refreshing amidst the ceremony's idiocy. She looked around as peasants began filling the back rows, surrounding her and Lorenzo rather quickly. Her smirk deepened as King Edin made no effort whatsoever to try to conceal himself as he signaled the guards to close the door.

Placing her pen down, she turned to fully face the peasant woman who had unwittingly found a seat next to her.

The woman's eyes widened in recognition, and she began to stammer an apology, obviously flustered by her proximity to nobility.

"Oh. You're the Lady Charlotte Vikena... Oh no... And next to you is the Duke. I'm so sorry. I didn't expect that you'd be seated back here, I hope you—"

Charlotte gently enveloped the woman's hand in both of hers, offering a comforting squeeze to halt her worried rambling. With a soft, reassuring smile, she whispered, "...It’s lovely to have you sit beside me."

The peasant woman’s expression softened, visibly relieved by Charlotte's kindness. She nodded gratefully, her initial tension easing into a more comfortable demeanor. Just then, King Edin’s voice resonated through the church as he proudly announced the unveiling of a new portrait.

As the draped canvas was revealed, showcasing the defaced image of the king, Charlotte couldn’t suppress her surprise. She stood up to get a better view, and around her, the peasants were already bursting into hushed, yet unrestrained laughter. The hastily painted mustache and horns on King Edin’s portrait were so absurdly out of place that Charlotte couldn't help but let out a chuckle. She quickly covered her mouth with both hands, trying to compose herself. When King Edin attempted to pass off the defacement as an intentional piece of creative expression, the situation became even more ludicrous, and Charlotte bit her lip hard to stifle her laughter.

Thankfully, the atmosphere quickly shifted as the orchestra and choir launched into an extravagantly dramatic piece, an attempt to restore some dignity to the event. There were always those who were fooled, but Charlotte knew that he could only fool so many with this much absurdity. She knew that these ceremonies usually dragged on for hours, yet today's spectacle seemed doomed to a brisk conclusion, all thanks to a mustache on a portrait.

A giggle escaped her again, and she politely covered her mouth, whispering apologetically to the peasant woman beside her, "I'm sorry. This is too funny."

The woman stared at her alarm at the sudden fit of giggling, but an expression of amusement slowly crossed her face.

As the church slowly emptied with people eager for the free food at The Royal Curd, she exhaled deeply. She slipped her journal into her shoulder bag and lifted her head, ready to exchange a glance with Lorenzo. Instead, her gaze halted on a scene unfolding before her that seemed completely out of place.

At first, it appeared almost normal, the sight of a man entering the church with his child, but the harsh grip on the boy's wrist and the stern, urgent pace down the aisle struck her as odd. The church lights dimmed suddenly, as if clouds had swept over the sun, but it was more than that—the entire atmosphere of the church shifted. Her eyes darted toward the windows, observing the night sky behind the stained glass with confusion.

She looked back at the man, his features harsh and drawn by a severe expression, as he dragged the little boy along. The boy’s features, blurred at first, came into sharper focus, and something about him tugged at her memory. He looked frightened and confused, struggling against the man’s grip.

"I... Lorenzo... I'll meet you outside. I'm going to see if everything is okay." Charlotte heard her own voice as it echoed strangely in the now somber church.

The man paid no heed to anything around him, his lips set in a grim line, muttering fervent, disjointed prayers. As he moved he shouted at the child, his voice rising, "Pray, boy, pray! Pray to be cleansed of the evil that taints your soul!" He continued to drag the young boy by the wrist, heading towards a small, dimly lit room off to the side of the church—where parishioners often sought counsel in private.

Charlotte moved without thinking, her feet carrying her forward to intervene. As she approached the room, the door was slightly ajar, allowing her to see the man pushing the boy inside roughly. Without hesitation, Charlotte pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. Inside, the man was scolding the boy, his voice a harsh whisper that echoed slightly in the confined space.

"There is nothing good about you." the man hissed, his back to Charlotte. "In fact, you are nothing. A blight upon our family, drawn to the darkness like a moth to flame. You must pray! Pray for redemption, for only the Gods can cleanse the vile taint from your soul!"

The boy was cornered against the cold wall, his small face streaked with tears and dirt, his body shaking. His brown eyes, wide and filled with a haunting fear, met Charlotte’s for a fleeting second. His voice trembled as he attempted to recite the prayers his father demanded, but fear choked his words, turning them into barely audible whispers.

Charlotte’s heart clenched at the sight as she stepped forward, "Stop! You can't treat him like this!" she exclaimed, her voice firm, but her words seemed to pass unheard as if she was nothing more than a wisp of air.

Not satisfied with the boy's faltering words, the father's wrath escalated. "Words are not enough!" he bellowed. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he shook him violently, as if trying to expel the darkness he believed lurked within. "You must feel the penance in your bones!"

She reached out immediately, her hands passing through the figures as though they were nothing more than ghosts.

The father then pushed at the boy's back. "Kneel!" His voice thundered as he threw a handful of coarse salt onto the hard, cold stone floor. The boy knelt, his small frame shaking as the sharp crystals bit into his tender skin, drawing out a pained cry from the boy.

"The gods demand your suffering for your wickedness." the father insisted, the fanaticism vivid in his tone. The intensity in the crazed man's eyes made Charlotte's stomach churn; she stumbled back, her hands flying to cover her face.

As the boy knelt, sobbing and praying, the dreadful sound of a leather strap striking his back filled the air, Her eyes widened in shock and her teeth clenched.

"Lady Vikena...?" A voice reached her ears, but it took the man asking once more for her to respond. She lifted her head from her hands and found herself staring at one of the church attendants as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Blinking away the remnants of the vision, Charlotte found herself back in the brightly lit room. The figures of the boy and his father had vanished, leaving her alone with the attendant. She took a shuddering breath, her gaze lingering on the empty space. "Yes... I'm fine." she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. From the look in his eyes, she could tell her words had been heard out loud when she had exclaimed prior. Stumbling back toward the door, Charlotte excused herself,"I'm fine. I must go."

With that, she found herself joining Lorenzo once more, and the two of them made their way to the Royal Curd, which wasn't far at all luckily. Once seated at a small table in the event room, Charlotte made an effort to hide how shaken she was visibly, even trying to focus on how absurdly yellow everything was. However, she was unsuccessful.

...I suppose maybe I am cursed then.