PapaOso

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

The Arrival at Pinebrook's Campsite

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the first shades of twilight, carriages began to roll into the heart of Pinebrook. The comforting clatter of hooves against the earth and the soft murmurs of noble guests eager for the camping retreat filled the crisp evening air. As the carriages arrived, the guests were greeted by the warm glow of lanterns scattered across the campsite.

Set amidst towering trees that seemed to stretch endlessly into the night sky, the campsite was a breathtaking sight to behold. A large, circular pavilion stood at the center, its warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. The pavilion housed beautifully arranged tables, where guests would gather later to dine under the stars. Surrounding the pavilion were elegant tents, each one illuminated by soft lanterns that gave the area an almost magical feel. These tents were thoughtfully arranged in a semi-circle around a central fire pit, where logs and wooden chairs waited to invite guests for a cozy fireside evening.

In the center of the camp, the crackling fire pit provided warmth and a rustic charm, with comfortable chairs and benches circling the flames. The air smelled of burning wood and fresh pine, heightening the serene atmosphere of the forested retreat. Above them, a full moon hung in the sky, casting a silver glow through the branches, and the twinkling stars seemed to dance in the deep night.

The guests were welcomed by camp staff, each dressed in simple yet neat attire. Among them, one particular staff member stood out: a man with brown hair, who might seem vaguely familiar to those who had known Darryn Fletcher. His features were eerily similar—especially the scar running across his neck. Some might wonder if this could be a relative, or perhaps something more mysterious, as the resemblance was uncanny enough to draw whispers from those who recognized him.

As the campers stepped out of their carriages, their senses were immediately greeted by the blend of nature’s tranquil beauty and the subtle luxury curated by the royal family for this special event. The evening was just beginning, and already, the magic of Pinebrook’s Courting Season Camping Event was in full bloom.

Soon, two senior camp staffers hurriedly approached with bright, welcoming smiles. The first, a bubbly young woman with a mass of curly auburn hair, waved enthusiastically at the guests as they descended. Her green eyes sparkled with excitement, and she adjusted her forest-green tunic before calling out, “Welcome to Pinebrook, everyone! We are so excited to have you here!” Her cheerful voice carried easily across the campsite.

Beside her, a tall, gangly young man with tousled blonde hair and round spectacles tried his best to look official while nervously clutching a clipboard. He offered a bashful grin, his cheeks flushed as he spoke up, “Yes, yes! We’ll be getting started just as soon as everyone’s gathered. In the meantime, feel free to stretch your legs and take in the beauty of Pinebrook.” He gestured awkwardly around him, clearly not as accustomed to the role as his counterpart.

The woman beamed and clapped her hands together. “Once everyone gathers 'round, we’ll start handing out your tent assignments! And,” she added with a playful wink, “you’ll be assigned your partner for the evening. So stay close! It’s going to be an unforgettable night!” The two exchanged a quick look of shared excitement before guiding the guests towards the pavilion with friendly gestures.

Dream RP?

@The Elvenqueen@Shu@Foster

Thank y'all for answering! I'm always so curious to see people's visions.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

---

Flashback: Cassius Vael

The City of Erwynn; 13 years ago

---

The warm, sunlit streets of Erwynn buzzed with life, filled with vendors hawking their goods, children playing, and the scent of spices hanging thick in the air. It was the kind of place that set Cassius’s blood on fire, the kind of place where freedom felt tangible. The city seemed to hum with energy, inviting him to explore its corners and crevices. Cassius, all lanky limbs and restless energy, stood at the mouth of the alley with his back against the wall, his storm-gray eyes scanning the crowd with excitement.

But that excitement faded fast as his mother approached, her soft voice pulling him out of his daydream.

“Little Bear,” Meredith’s tone was gentle but firm, her fingers brushing through his hair, trying to tame the wild mess as best she could. Cassius rolled his eyes, ducking his head a little to avoid the fussing, but there was a small smile on his lips. He loved his mother, but he wasn’t a child anymore.

“I need you to take Dom with you today,” she said, her words slicing through his excitement like a blade. “He’s younger, and his mother needs help with him while the rest of us are setting up for the show.”

Cassius groaned, already seeing the day slipping away from him. “But Mom, I..."

“No buts, Cassius,” she interrupted, her voice softening as she cupped his face in her hands, her thumb brushing over the scar forming across his brow. “You’re getting older now. It’s time you started looking out for others, not just yourself. I know it’s not always fun, but responsibility isn’t always supposed to be fun.” She smiled at him, warmth in her eyes. "You’re rough around the edges, you know that as well as I do, but we both know that you're a good boy. I trust you to keep him safe. That means something, son."

He huffed, still not thrilled, but there was something about the way she said it that made him straighten his back a little, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Fine, fine. I’ll take him. But if he can’t keep up, it’s on him.”

Meredith chuckled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to leave. Cassius ran a hand through his already messy hair, muttering under his breath as he made his way toward where little Domino was playing, his small form crouched over, examining a line of ants on the ground.

"Dom!" Cassius called out, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Let’s go. You’re coming with me."

Domino, the little Alidasht boy with dark, eager eyes and a smile too big for his face, practically jumped up, running over with his sandals flopping against the cobblestones. “Where we go, Cas?” His thick accent twisted the words, but the excitement was more than clear in his voice as he looked up at the older boy.

"Wherever I go, kid. But you better keep up, alright?" Cassius shot him a half-hearted glare, already turning to stride off into the crowd. Dom practically danced after him, struggling to match his pace, his small legs pumping hard to keep up.

Cassius tried to act annoyed, but there was a part of him that found the kid’s boundless enthusiasm amusing, if not a little endearing. Dom didn’t speak much of the common tongue, but he managed to talk Cassius’s ear off about anything and everything as they walked. Each new sight and sound seemed to fill him with wonder...every stall, every shout from a vendor, every new corner they turned.

"Stop lagging behind, Dom," Cassius grumbled when Dom paused to look at a stray cat slinking through the shadows. He kept walking, his long legs carrying him swiftly ahead, though he couldn’t stop the small smirk that tugged at his lips when Dom scampered after him, almost tripping over his own feet.

They wandered through the city’s winding streets, Cassius showing Dom how to move through the crowds without drawing attention, how to swipe a piece of fruit from a stand when the vendor wasn’t looking. It was a game to Cas, one he’d perfected over the years. Dom tried to mimic him, his small hands clumsy at first, but his determination shone through. After a few attempts, he managed to snag an apple without anyone noticing, and Cassius clapped him on the back, more proud than he let on.

"I do good, Cas?" The kid asked, obviously eager for Cas's approval

"Not bad, Dom," Cassius said, biting into his own stolen fruit. "You might just survive the day after all."

Dom grinned, beaming up at him like he’d just won the biggest prize in the world.

But just as they turned into a narrow alley, the tone of their day shifted. It was subtle at first, the way the shadows seemed to grow longer, the air colder despite the sun still hanging high. Cassius noticed a figure standing at the other end of the alley, waiting. A man with dark eyes and a twisted smile.

"There’s my boy!" the man called out to Dom, his voice sickly sweet. "It’s time to come home, son."

Cassius froze, his stomach turning. He didn't know Dom's family well, but he knew that the kid’s dad had died a few years back, and that his mother had been raising him on her own. The man stepped forward, his gaze locked on Dom.

Cassius’s instincts flared, and he shifted in front of Dom, his voice low and urgent. "We need to go. Now."

He grabbed Dom's hand, pulling him back the way they’d come, but the man followed. “Hey! Stop!” he barked, his voice harsh now, the sweetness gone. "That’s my son!"

They spun, ready to flee…but another figure loomed in their path. This man was broader, his face shadowed by a cruel grin.

Trapped.

Cassius’s pulse quickened as he realized they were boxed in. His grip tightened on Dom's hand as fear coursed through him. They were cornered, the weight of responsibility crashing down on him with brutal clarity.

"Let the kid go," one of the men snarled, stepping forward. "You can walk away. No need for anyone to get hurt."

Cassius swallowed hard, his body trembling. "No," he said, his voice weak but defiant. "He’s not going with you."

Dom was clinging to him now, his small hands shaking. Cassius looked down at the boy’s wide, terrified eyes, his mind racing.

One of the men pulled a knife, and Cassius's breath caught in his throat. "Last chance." The man said, the blade glinting in the low light.

Cassius’s hands shook as they clenched into fists, his whole body trembling from fear and adrenaline. "You... you’re not taking him." He stammered, his voice cracking. He wasn’t even sure if he could fight, not with his legs trembling like this, but he couldn’t back down. His body was telling him to run, but something else…something desperate and terrified kept him rooted to the spot. Please... please go away… He begged in his mind.

And just like that, Cas bolted, holding on to Dom's hand for dear life. But before they could get far, the men lunged. The next moments were a blur of chaos and violence. One man grabbed for Dom, but Cassius shoved him back, kicking and punching wildly. The other man swung his knife, catching Cassius across the arm, the sharp sting of the blade barely registering through the haze of panic.

Cassius flailed with desperation, arms swinging, legs kicking, barely aiming his strikes. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last as he scrambled to find anything…anything…to fight them off. His hand latched onto a broken bottle, and he swung it clumsily, more out of panic than skill.

His heart pounded in his ears, his vision narrowing. Don’t let them get you…don’t let them take him! He kicked a loose barrel, sending it crashing into one man’s legs. He grabbed a broken piece of wood, swinging it at the other man’s face. But they kept coming, the knife flashing again, cutting across his chest, then his side.

Blood smeared his shirt, and pain throbbed through his ribs with every shaky breath, but he couldn’t stop. I can’t... I can’t let them win. Tears pricked the edges of his vision, blurring everything around him as he swung chaotically, fighting more like a wild animal than a human. His hands stung from where his knuckles had split open, but he barely noticed it. His whole world was a blur of panic and blood, his body moving on its own. Please... let this end…I don’t want them to take the kid.

One of the men tackled him to the ground, pinning him down, the knife raised high. Cassius struggled, his arms shaking as he held the man’s wrist, trying to keep the blade away from his throat. Tears burned in his eyes, terror clawing at his insides as he felt his strength slipping.

Then, by some stroke of fate, the man’s grip on the knife faltered. It clattered to the ground beside Cassius’s head. Desperation surged through him. With a scream, he grabbed the knife, and as the man lunged again, Cassius thrust the blade upward, driving it into the man’s chest.

Time seemed to stop.

The man’s eyes widened in shock, his body convulsing before going still, slumping forward onto Cassius. The weight of the man, of what he’d just done, pressed down on him, suffocating him. Cassius struggled to push the man off, his hands slick with blood...both his own and the man’s.

The second man, realizing what had happened, took one look at the bloodied scene and bolted, disappearing into the shadows without a word.

Cassius was left panting, trembling, his body aching. Every inch of him shook uncontrollably as he shoved the limp body off him. He stared at his bloodied hands for a moment, blinking in disbelief. Did I really just…

A sob choked out of him, and he quickly wiped his face with the back of his arm. Get up. Get up! He forced himself to crawl toward Dom, who was curled up in the corner, trembling just as badly as he was. “It’s... it’s over,” Cassius whispered, though his own voice wavered, as if saying the words would make them true.

"Dom," Cassius rasped, his voice hoarse. "You... okay?"

The boy nodded, tears streaming down his face. Cassius pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly, the weight of what he’d just done pressing down on him. He was bleeding, exhausted, terrified.

But Dom was safe.

And that was all that mattered.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

---

Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Mentions: @princess Lottie, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

Cassius laid there, feeling the cool earth beneath his back and the warm sun above. But the real warmth, the kind that spread through him like a slow-burning fire, came from Charlotte. Her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with life as she teased him... it made his chest feel oddly tight. A part of him wanted to dismiss it, to lean on his usual tricks…a grin, a playful quip, but when she took his hand, that same hand that had taken lives and spilled blood, he froze. It wasn’t the touch of a princess to a knight. No, it was even softer, more delicate. Too tender for a man like him.

For a moment, his heart did something unfamiliar…it skipped, maybe. And, to his confusion, a blush crept up his neck. Shit... I think I'm blushing. He glanced at their joined hands, trying to mask the way his breath had caught in his lungs. Her touch sent warmth into his chest, spreading through his veins and settling somewhere deeper, somewhere dangerous. He felt his throat tighten, the weight of her simple, earnest words crashing over him like a wave.

"...And I’m glad it’s with you."

He tried to grin, to let some cocky remark slip from his lips. But nothing came. All he could do was look at her, that easy smile faltering for the first time in longer than he could remember. His storm-gray eyes softened, taking in every detail of Charlotte...how the sunlight danced in her dark hair, the way she seemed to shine against the chaos of the world around them. Gods… she’s beautiful. The thought took him by surprise, knocking him sideways in his mind.

Cassius forced a chuckle to break the silence, though it sounded almost nervous to his own ears. Nervous...him, of all people. “Well, that makes two of us.” he said lightly, though his voice had a rougher edge to it than before. His eyes lingered on her, watching as she sank deeper into the grass, her contentment palpable. The moment was soft, sweet… too sweet.

And that’s when the doubt crept in.

The rogue in him, the man who had spent his life chasing thrills and experiencing all the beauty in the world, felt a tug to pull away. His instincts kicked in, like they always did in a fight, but this wasn’t a battlefield he recognized. This was something else entirely, something that made the back of his neck heat up and his pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with enemies charging to take his life.

He could feel it now...something shifting deep inside him, as if the ground he stood on was no longer solid. His thoughts, though always a storm, usually sharp and focused, began to race in a thousand different directions at once. He wasn’t in control. What is this? he wondered, the confusion creeping in, unsettling him in ways no threat or enemy ever had. But he didn’t understand it. He was supposed to be good at this...reading situations, keeping control, predicting the next move, or at least reacting to whatever move could come with poise and always a dash of confidence. Yet when it came to her, to this moment, all he could feel was that unfamiliar heat coursing through him, a war raging inside that he had no idea how to fight.

Before he could dwell on it, Lorenzo’s bizarre mumbling cut through the air, dragging him back to reality. Pieces of him felt relief, a small smirk curling at the corners of his mouth as Charlotte scrambled to her feet, tipsy but resolute. She was so endearing in her determination, commanding the scene with that familiar fire in her eyes...a fire he was unsure she even knew she had. It was a good distraction, a reprieve from the uncertainty that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

Still on the ground, Cassius pushed himself up onto his elbows, watching her with that familiar, cocky grin. But even now, there was something softer in his gaze as he followed her movements, something that hadn’t even been there before.

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as she announced the alcohol ban and took charge of the situation. His heart warmed at the sight of her rallying behind Lorenzo, even as the man, who moments ago had threatened him, rambled on about ferrets and feet.

Life is so fucking weird, sometimes.

When Lottie turned to him with that bright smile, asking for his help with Lorenzo’s gifts, Cassius gave her a wink, slipping back into his usual charm. “Of course, anything for you, Princess.”

But even as he said it, his mind kept circling back to the moment before...the touch of her hand, the look in her eyes. Part of him wanted to laugh it off, to pretend none of it mattered. But deep down, he knew better. Something was shifting in him, and no amount of teasing or bravado could keep it at bay forever.

You’re in trouble, Cassius. A voice rang out in his mind’s eye, though this time it was not his. This voice came from a deeper place, one built on memories and days gone by. It was the voice of his mother, the voice of Meredith Vael.

Dream RP?

I'm curious to know what your dream RP would be. In your eyes, what would be the perfect roleplay for you?

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Duke Gideon Edwards

Time: 10am
Location: Drake Edwards Birthday Party at the Edwards Estate Backyard
Mentions/Interactions: @Lava Alckon Drake, @Tpartywithzombi Ariella, @CitrusArms Stratya, @princess Victoria

---

Gideon’s attempt to continue his conversation with his daughter was interrupted when his son took to the stage for his performance. He watched with joy as Drake played to the crowd so elegantly, pride swelling up within him. However, as the performance concluded…things would go awry.

His heart sank as he watched Drake stumble and fall, the laughter of the crowd cutting through the air like a dagger. Drake had been drinking, sure, but it was unlike him to reach such a level of inebriation. He felt the way the few cocktails he had enjoyed were affecting him and wondered what in the world was making them so damned strong.

His gaze shifted to Victoria, whose voice rang out across the garden with sharp, biting words directed at their son. The familiar disdain twisted in his stomach, made all the worse by the drink coursing through his veins, loosening his grip on his usual patience. This wasn’t just a party; it was a showcase for Victoria’s grandeur, and it seemed to come at the expense of their children’s dignity. Watching her berate Ariella just moments prior left him feeling disillusioned. How could she be so cruel to the very children she was supposed to nurture?

“Stop making a scene,” he muttered under his breath, the words directed at no one in particular but laced with an urgency that dripped from his voice. He could feel the tension in the air, thick with laughter and mockery aimed at Victoria, and he knew this could spiral out of control. He had seen his wife wield her sharp tongue with reckless abandon, and surely the alcohol wasn’t helping that matter… it was as if she had forgotten the very essence of mothering.

He caught a glimpse of Stratya’s audacious heckle, the words ringing in his ears like a siren call. Gideon felt a flicker of approval mixed with incredulity; if anyone could draw the line against Victoria’s reign of judgment, it would be the Knight Captain. But the laughter that erupted only added fuel to the fire, and he could sense the atmosphere shifting dangerously.

With a resolute breath, he made his way toward Victoria, trying to intercept her before the situation escalated further. He sidestepped the revelry of the crowd, feeling the collective energy swell and shift around him.

“Victoria,” he called gently, his voice firm yet coaxing. “Why don’t you come back and sit with Lily and I? We’re all supposed to be celebrating together.” He placed a hand on her arm, a silent plea to draw her back from the precipice of confrontation. “Today is about our children, about Drake. Let’s not give him and Ariella any more reason to feel ashamed.”

He knew he was treading on thin ice, but as he looked into Victoria’s eyes, he hoped she would see the sincerity in his own. “It’s not worth it. We’re better than this.” The words felt hollow even as he spoke them, but Gideon clung to the belief that they could at least attempt to restore some semblance of decorum amid the chaos.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

---

Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Mentions: @princess Lottie, @CitrusArms Stratya, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

He couldn't help but be drawn in as Charlotte’s sharp tongue stoked the fires of his flirtation. Her playful wit, paired with the confidence to brush that lock of hair from his face, ignited something deep within him that caused his charming grin to widen. Even her teasing jab about "birds of a feather" made him chuckle, but her next question lingered in the air, stirring uncomfortable memories of the night they first met... a night when he had behaved more like a cad than a gentleman.

That soft inquiry about his behavior back then caused him to vividly recall how brash and flirtatious he had been. Seeing Charlotte at that door, her distress wrapped in beauty and melancholy, had sparked his reckless side. And, in his inebriation, he had thrown tact to the wind, letting his arrogance do the talking.

A subtle regret twinged at him now as he remembered her stiffening under his gaze, the way her eyes had cooled after his crude remarks. He knew well enough that in their world, such behavior marked a man as a rake, but had he truly been that out of line? Had his advances really crossed into the inappropriate? Part of him wanted to explain, to tell her that it had been a bad night, that he was too far lost in his own chaos to consider the impact of his words. But even he knew that wasn’t entirely true.

In his previous world, that kind of behavior had been commonplace. More than that, really…it had been rewarding to a debonair man of his caliber. Though he meant no harm by his crudeness it was clear that to her it had not been the best look…nor anything even resembling a good look at all. And that mattered to him, for some reason. The difference in the way she looked at him that night compared to how she looked at him at the masquerade, and even here now…for whatever reason, it meant something to him.

Was it simply one of the bad habits he’d picked up during his mercenary days, a part of the man he’d been but could no longer afford to be? Or was it something deeper, something ingrained in his nature that would rear its head again despite his best efforts to tame it? Even he, with all his self-awareness, didn’t know the answer.

But before he could even begin to form a response, the chaotic energy of the gathering shifted when Stratya’s outburst interrupted the moment, followed by Lorenzo’s own rebelliously absurd display. The air buzzed with laughter, and he had to swallow his words for the moment. His focus diverted as Charlotte kicked off her shoes and joined the raucous fun and defiance of that Duchess bitch’s demands.

Cassius grinned, watching her stumble and fall into the grass, her laughter light hearted and infectious. His heart warmed as he saw her embrace the levity of the moment, allowing herself to be carefree.

"Well, well, Princess." He muttered under his breath to himself, shaking his head with amusement. Taking a swig from his drink, he tipped it back until the last drop was gone before setting it down with a bit more force than intended.

Standing up a little too quickly, Cassius found himself stumbling, a sharp reminder of just how potent these cocktails had been. “Shit…” He chuckled, his balance betraying him for a second as he wobbled on his feet. With a mischievous grin, he kicked off his boots, following Charlotte’s lead, and let himself tumble right into the grass beside her.

The cool earth beneath him felt oddly comforting, and as he landed, laughter bubbled up from his chest, escaping in a devil-may-care moment of pure bliss. He turned his head toward her, eyes glimmering with clear affection mixed with a handsome dash of mischief.

"I’m not entirely sure what we’re doing, but whatever it is, I’m all in, Princess." He teased lightly, his voice warm as he let the moment hang between them...for the moment free of past regrets and brimming with shared joy.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

---

Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @princess Lottie, Victoria @Helo Callum, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

The lovable bastard smirked as Charlotte giggled and bantered with Callum, her light-hearted mood was contagious to him. She’d been sipping on her drinks steadily, and he could see the alcohol loosening her up in ways he hadn’t seen before. The usual kindness in her eyes remained, but that barrier of caution seemed to be gone, replaced by a playful energy that was almost magnetic. He leaned back in his seat, watching as she teasingly suggested she might be Callum's sister. When she turned her gaze to him and claimed she’d already won the trophy for his suggested drinking contest, he couldn't help but grin.

“Oh, have you now?” His voice was low, teasing, his eyes dark with amusement as he leaned in slightly. “I’d be careful about making claims like that, Princess. I’m not one to be underestimated…Then again, perhaps neither are you.” He winked, letting his storm-gray eyes traveled over her face, studying the way her cheeks flushed as she sipped more of her drink.

Then, as Drake took to the piano and began his performance, Cassius’ gaze shifted to the stage. Drake introduced the next piece, and when he mentioned that the song had been composed by none other than Charlotte Vikena, his brows shot up. His attention snapped back to her, impressed but somehow unsurprised.

“Well, well… a legendary drinker and a composer. Is there anything you can’t do?” Cas teased, his voice carrying a note of admiration. He watched as her eyes darted around the room when Drake mentioned her name, a cheeky wave following as the attention turned toward her. She wasn’t shying away from the spotlight this time, and Cassius felt a swell of pride in her confidence.

He raised his glass. “To the talented Lady Vikena,” he exclaimed to their table, giving her another wink before downing the rest of his drink.

As the music played, Cassius found himself appreciating the beauty of the piece, though Cas could not help but wonder what it could have been if she had played it herself. However, as the last note of the song faded, things took a sudden turn. Drake stumbled, his words slurred, and the next thing Cassius knew, the birthday boy was tumbling off the stage, much to the gasps of the crowd. Cassius took it all in, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Drake’s mother, Victoria, who was already striding across the lawn with all the grace and fury of a storm. Cassius let out a low sigh as he watched the way she handled the situation.

“Does that one always make everything all about herself?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Victoria's hissed reprimands at Drake and the look on her face as she addressed Callum, who had gone to make sure Lord Edwards was alright, told him everything he needed to know about her. He couldn’t make out what exactly was said to the Prince, but honestly her expression was more than enough to understand that it wasn’t friendly.

The moment eventually settled and soon, Charlotte, her cheeks flushed and her eyes gleaming, turned back to him and Lorenzo, comparing Lorenzo to a ferret and suggesting that Cassius was more of a peacock. He couldn't help the laughter that escaped him. She was clearly tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, honestly so was he…which surprised him, but regardless, the way Lottie leaned closer, poking him in the chest with that mischievous grin, was too charming to ignore.

“A peacock, huh?” Cassius matched her energy in closing the distance, his voice dropping low, teasing her as his eyes locked onto hers. “So you’re saying I’m strutting around because I know I’m pretty?” His lips curled into a roguish grin. “Well, it’s nice to know you’re paying attention, Princess. Can’t say I’m surprised you find me beautiful.”

He held her gaze for a moment, the teasing edge in his voice softening slightly as he added, “But, if you think you’re the only one that can play this game you’re wrong.” He gave her a once over, studying her with his eyes inquisitively before continuing with confidence. “If I’m a peacock, Lottie…then that means that you are most definitely a swan. More than your share of elegance and grace, not to mention truly beautiful…but there's more to it than just that."

His expression shifted, becoming a bit more serious, though still laced with his signature charm and disarming smile. He took another sip of his cocktail and leaned even closer, this time his words were meant for her and her alone. He was so close, in fact, that the warmth of his breath could be felt on her neck. "Most people don’t realize just how fierce swans actually are. They're not just the most beautiful birds in the world, no, they will defend what they care about with everything they've got. That’s you, isn’t it? Underneath it all you’re the sweet girl everyone that matters can see…but that’s not all you are, is it Charlotte? I see more than that.”

He lingered in the moment before easing back into his seat, his eyes still locked on hers as if he could peer into her very core.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Harassment, Objectification, and Degrading Behavior

TRIGGER WARNING

Sexual Harassment, Objectification, and Degrading Behavior

The content includes themes of manipulation, power abuse, and bizarre, degrading demands that might be distressing or uncomfortable for some readers.

Time: 10:30am
Location: King Edin’s Bedchamber

---

"Someone grab a turkey leg! I need it to wave around like a scepter." Edin’s voice echoed down the hall just as the doors to his chamber were pulled almost closed.

The royal bedchamber was a chaotic display of decadence, transformed into a twisted theater for King Edin’s delusions. The air was thick with the heady scent of spilled brandy, perfume, and sweat, clinging to everything like a suffocating cloud. In the corner, a rack of elaborate gowns and accessories stood ready.

Beside the bed, a makeup artist stood silently, eyes cast downward, clutching a palette of powders, brushes, and paints. She had learned not to speak unless spoken to and to fulfill the king’s every whim without question.

He sprawled in the center of the grand bed, his crown perched crookedly on his head, eyes glazed with drunken delusion. His royal tunic had slipped halfway off his shoulder, revealing his soft, pale, hairy flesh, but he didn’t care. He was too far gone—drunk beyond reason, completely absorbed in his own twisted world of fantasy.

Surrounded by women, Edin’s smile twisted into something smug and self-satisfied. His fantasies had taken hold completely, and he no longer saw the women before him as simple courtesans. They were vessels for something greater, for the noblewomen he believed secretly loved him—every single one of them. To the king, courting season in Sorian should be a his spectacle, with the finest young gems of the realm vying for the privilege of his touch.

A consort knelt beside him, feeding him grapes one by one, as he slurred his words, barking commands at the women who shuffled around him like puppets, doing whatever ridiculous task he demanded.

“No, no, no!” he growled, waving his hand lazily. “You!” His bloodshot eyes fixed on a woman. “Put on the black wig… Yes, a wig! …And that gothic black gown! Darker! Gloomy!” He swirled his half-empty glass of brandy, spilling some on his already stained silk sheets. “Like a raven… a dark bird.” He s_hnorted to himself and leaned in, grabbing her chin. His grip tightened. “You’re too quiet, aren’t you?” His eyes were wide as he then spoke lowly to her, his grip on her chin tightening with every word. “Always watching, your face buried in a book, always too good for the rest of us. But I know better… You’re not sad. No, no… you’re something else.”

The woman scrambled to obey once he had freed her from his hold, picking a dark, raven-black wig from the collection and placing it over her head. She pulled a long, gothic gown from the rack and dressed herself quickly, avoiding Edin’s gaze as she completed the transformation.

Edin grinned, satisfied. “That’s more like it… “

He chuckled darkly before his eyes roamed to another woman, a redhead with trembling hands. “You,” he growled, his voice laced with cruel amusement. “Take off your shoes. No… step into the paint! Now!” He barked the order, waving his hand toward the tray of paint the artist had placed by the bed.

The woman hesitated, but Edin’s glare darkened. She stood there, frozen for a moment, before Edin barked again, “Move! Now! Walk across the room. Leave your mark. “

The redhead’s bare feet smeared the red paint across the floor as she walked, leaving dark, wet prints behind her. She wore a completely confused expression, despite the forced smile. Edin leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ““Yes… Your father would hate this, wouldn’t he? But you don’t care. No, you’re here for me. Only me. You belong in this bed, at my feet, covered in paint like the whore you are.”

His eyes flicked to a blonde woman next, her hair cascading over her shoulders.“You,” he hissed, his voice dropping into something darker.“Your daddy just died, didn’t he? Poor little daddy’s girl—but now you’re the Varian whore, aren’t you? Left to be raised by those two lesbian cunts.” He laughed cruelly, the sound cutting through the room like a knife.“ “I can see it. You’ve got nothing left, but I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of… I always knew you wanted it.”

The blonde woman stiffened, her face pale as Edin’s words struck deep. She stepped forward, her hands trembling, but she did as he commanded, her eyes cast downward as she moved closer to him.

Without warning, Edin flopped back onto the bed and waved another woman over. “Rub oil on me! On my arms! My legs! Every inch of me must glisten!” he commanded with wild excitement. “I need to be shining, like the Gods intended!”

One of the courtesans scurried forward, oil in hand, nervously rubbing it into his arms and chest as he squirmed under her touch, basking in his own perceived glory. “Yes, yes… now rub it into my feet. I must have the best feet in the kingdom!” He burst into hysterical laughter, tossing his head back while smearing a dollop of whipped cream across his own chest. “I’m glorious! Lick that cream!”

After some time, his attention suddenly shifted again, this time to a brunette woman standing nearby.

He sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. “You, oh, you think you’re something special, don’t you? The diva,” he spat, suddenly accusing her, waving his hand dismissively. “A duchess. Act like it! No, be rude. Show me that attitude. You love being above everyone, don’t you? Announce it. Tell the world how much better you are than the rest of them.”

The brunette lifted her chin, her lips curling into a sneer as she adopted the haughty demeanor Edin demanded. “I am a duchess!” she declared, her voice cold and imperious. “And you are lucky to have me here. I don’t waste my time on anyone else.”

“Gooood,” Edin slurred, nodding with satisfaction.

But his mood shifted abruptly, his gaze swinging to a delicate blonde standing at the edge of the room. “You… the sweet one. The angelic countess. Oh, you’re always so sick, aren’t you? So fragile. Put on something soft… pale. You’re like an angel who could fall at any moment.” His voice grew more insidious. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you? Without me, you’d die. Cough for me, Liliane, cough!”

The blonde woman’s face paled, but she complied, slipping into a pale gown and coughing lightly, as if her breath were too weak to sustain her. Edin’s grin widened as he watched her, his ego swelling at the sight of her vulnerability.

And then, his eyes fell upon a dark-haired woman standing quietly in the corner, her hands nervously wringing her skirt. He licked his lips, his mind fully consumed by the delusion he had crafted for her, “You…” he slurred, pointing a shaky hand at a woman with dark hair. “Tie it back. With a ribbon. Make it neat, make it proper… Like her. “His voice lowered, thick with something darker, something twisted.

“You’re going to beg me now, aren’t you? Plead with me… tell me to spare your imbecile of stepfather. Cry…. I want to hear you cry!”His grin twisted as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper laced with sick delight, “You’ll have no one if I kill him. Only me.”

Her hands shook as she tied a dark ribbon in her hair, her fingers fumbling as she pulled her dark locks back. She approached him slowly, her voice trembling as she began to beg. “Please,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, “please, Your Majesty… spare him. He doesn’t understand...”

The words struck a nerve, triggering a flash of memory—the mother, in his bed, whispering similar words. He felt both disgust and a strange pull. As the woman’s sobs grew louder, her body trembling, Edin leaned in, watching her break apart before him. There was something almost satisfying about it—seeing her crumble like that. But it was also maddening. She was too much like her.

So Edin turned his attention. "Fetch me a bucket of milk!" he barked suddenly, eyes gleaming with a mad delight. "I want to bathe my hands in it. It makes them soft… like the hands of a king!"

As someone went to fetch him milk, he swiveled drunkenly to another woman with dark red hair.

“Kalliope!” he barked, though it wasn’t her name. He pointed vaguely at the woman. “Dress like Kalliope. Put on the tight dress. She always looks perfect—makes everyone look, but I know she’s doing it for me.” His words were slurred beyond recognition, his vision blurring, but he grinned widely. “Yes, you want to turn heads, don’t you? But in the end, you only care about me.”

The woman rushed to slip into a form-fitting dress, her face a mask of discomfort as she tried to embody the vision Edin so desperately clung to. “You think you’re so deadly but you’re just a fragile woman in my grasp.”

But then Edin’s eyes fell on a strawberry blonde woman at the edge of the room. His face twisted with drunken excitement as he recalled the girl in the wheelchair. “You! You need bruise makeup!” He nearly shouted, pointing wildly. “ Artist! Give her bruises now! And you must wear pants. I heard she likes pants. You’re tough… but bruised. You’ve been hurt. But I can fix it… I’m the one who can make it all better…”

The artist applied the bruise makeup to the girl, shading her face and neck as she slipped into a pair of pants, her expression hardening as she stepped forward with a defiant look. Edin’s grin widened, his satisfaction complete.

Suddenly, his glass clattered to the floor, and he leaned back, arms outstretched, his body sinking into the bed’s plush pillows. He let out a deep, slurred sigh, completely absorbed in his grand delusion. As another consort applied whip cream into his mouth, he began to mumble something unintelligible, his thoughts drifting to another, more unattainable fantasy.

After a moment, he started up again. “…And you… you!” he slurred, pointing at a tall, auburn-haired woman who had yet to speak. “Put on the crown… and the royal robe. You’re her… the Queen. Not my queen, no… no… the other one.” His eyes glazed over, unfocused as he tried to picture Queen Rosa Camilia of Varian. “Strong… tall… thinks she’s better than me. But she’ll fall for me too. They all do. All of them.” He cackled, his voice tinged with desperation.

The consort reluctantly dressed in a royal robe and placed a crown on her head. She approached him stiffly, unsure how to act, but Edin was too far gone to notice.

He was deep in his delusion, convinced that every woman—whether noble or queen, commoner or consort—wanted him, adored him, needed him. The reality of his kingdom, of the crumbling control he had, faded from his mind as he let himself sink deeper into the fantasy.

"Take the velvet drapes from the window and wrap me in them. I want to feel like a king in a cocoon!" he shouted like a madman with a self-satisfied grin. "Yes, tuck me in tight. Make sure there’s no draft!"

“They all love me…” he muttered, his voice slurring as his eyes fluttered closed. “They… all love me… I’m the King. The only King…” As he drifted further into drunken oblivion, the room grew quieter. The consorts exchanged glances, unsure whether to stay or leave, as the powerful King Edin laid swaddled in the bed, snoring obnoxiously.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

---

Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @princess Lottie, @Helo Callum, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

As Cassius leaned back in his chair, his arm was still draped casually around Charlotte’s shoulders as Callum’s remarks hung in the air. He chuckled at the Prince’s sudden arrival, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Ah, Your Highness. I do not yet know you well, but I might have guessed that shots would bring you running.”

His charming eyes sparkled with mischief as he raised his glass to acknowledge Callum, though his attention lingered for a moment on the odd expression Callum wore as he stared at Charlotte.

Hmm. Interesting. Cassius wasn’t blind to the curiosity—and perhaps something more—that flickered in Callum’s eyes. Not that it mattered. Everyone had their secrets, and Cassius wasn’t one to judge based on idle glances. But the brief moment of curiosity made him wonder just what it was about Charlotte that seemed to draw out such a gaze from the man.

His smirk widened at Callum’s apology for the "bastard" comment. Cassius waved it off with a dismissive hand, having never been offended by the satire.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Your Highness. ‘Bastard’ is hardly an insult in my world. In fact, I’d say it’s a term of endearment for someone like me.”

His gaze darkened slightly, though the smirk never left his face.

“And as for my father—” he paused, letting the weight of that word settle between them, “—let’s just say that so far it seems we share similar tastes in wine… and little else.”

The tension broke when the waiter appeared with a tray of cocktails and shots, and Callum seized the opportunity to raise a toast. Cassius watched with a bemused expression as the prince lifted his glass toward both him and Lottie, insinuating that the two of them were an item.

A couple? Cassius thought, hiding his amusement behind a sip of his drink. He glanced down at Charlotte, her blush deepening as she instinctively raised her glass in response. The sight was enough to make him grin. There was something oddly endearing about the way she flushed at the slightest provocation, even when she clearly disagreed with the assumption. Cassius leaned closer to her, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper as she began her objection.

“Well, Princess, it seems we’ve fooled him. Who knew two days of you even tolerating me would make us look so… believable?”

He winked at her, enjoying the playful tension, but his amusement was short-lived when he felt her stiffen beneath his arm. His banter faded as he noticed the distant look in her eyes. Charlotte had frozen mid-toast, her hand hovering in the air as if she’d forgotten where she was. It was subtle, but Cassius was attuned enough to recognize when someone was slipping away, trapped in some memory or emotion far beyond the present moment.

His grip on her shoulder tightened ever so slightly, not enough to be alarming, but enough to hopefully ground her. His eyes softened, watching her carefully. There you are… somewhere far away. But were? He studied her face, noting the tension in her features, the way her gaze seemed to drift beyond the room.

Cassius had seen that look before—mostly on the battlefield, or rather in the aftermath of one. It was a look he would see in the eyes of comrades who had stared too long into the abyss. He didn’t know where she had gone, but Charlotte, for the moment at least, was gone. When her gaze finally flickered back to the present, her shoulders slumped slightly as if she had returned from a long journey.

Charlotte cleared her throat, her attempt at recovery almost painfully awkward as she raised her glass to the group with forced brightness.

“Right! A toast!” she exclaimed.

Cassius didn’t let the moment linger. He kept his arm around her, offering her a small, knowing smile.

“Well, well,” he drawled, raising his own glass with exaggerated enthusiasm. “To wonderful company and to Lord Drake, indeed.” He tipped his head toward Charlotte with a smirk. “And to your impressive ability to down an entire cocktail like an absolute legend.”

He grinned as her eyes widened in realization; the empty glass still clutched in her hand.

“I’ve never seen someone drink with such… gusto, my lady.” The teasing note in his voice was unmistakable, but it was softened by a hint of admiration. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to keep up with me.”

Cassius downed his own cocktail in one smooth motion, setting the empty glass on the table with a sharp clink.

“But, I suppose if anyone here is going to match me drink for drink, I’d be honored if it were you.”

He leaned in a little closer, voice lowering to something more private.

“Though, if you keep that pace, I’ll be the one carrying you out of here by the end of this little shindig.”

Cassius gave her shoulder another light squeeze, offering her a moment of reprieve before he turned his attention back to the group. With a swift, fluid motion, he reached for another cocktail from the tray and took a long sip, savoring the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat.

“Now,” he said, his voice more animated as he addressed the group, “If we’re all done with the toasts and pleasantries, how about we get to the real fun? Because as much as I enjoy the conversation…” He grabbed one of the shots that had been delivered along with the cocktails and swirled it gently in his hand, watching the liquid catch the light. “I’m far more interested in finding out which of you can actually hold your liquor.”

His challenge hung in the air, playful and provocative. Cassius’s smirk returned, that signature roguish grin that seemed to invite trouble. But even as he shifted the energy of the table, his arm remained around Charlotte, his touch steady and reassuring.

He downed the second cocktail with a flourish, setting the glass aside as his gaze swept the table. His attention briefly flicked to Lorenzo, a subtle reminder that the man was still very much a part of this tense little gathering, despite the earlier spat. But for now, Cassius was content to let the moment breathe, the sting of his earlier words fading beneath the alcohol and the company. In fact, the drinks had already begun to loosen him up… quite a bit, in fact.

“Well then,” he said, his voice light and teasing as his eyes flicked between Callum and Charlotte. There was somehow already the slightest hint of slurring in his words, an effect of the extra special cocktails they had been provided. “Shall we see who can keep up?”