Tpartywithzombi

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

FLASHBACK

VIOLET & ROMAN

My dear Violet,

I may have also gotten ahead of myself the other night. I thought I understood something when I did not and for that I apologize.

My words still hold true as to what I feel when I’m around you and how I see you.

The day after I return from the camp out my company is holding a fish fry, a free lunch for all at the end of the pier at Calbert LN and the boardwalk. I’ll be there at noon helping catch some fresh fish.

We reserved the entire end of the pier.

I apologies ahead of time if I smell like fish.

Yours,
Roman

The letter dangled from her fingers, its weight far heavier than the parchment it was written on. She had already read it a dozen times, yet the urge to read it once more clawed at her. For so long, she had believed he had dismissed her, discarded her, that the sight of his handwriting now felt like a betrayal of her own expectations. I may have gotten ahead of myself the other night... The words hovered in her mind, as though spoken aloud, their meaning as elusive as the sea breeze outside. Did he regret the kiss? Or was it the slap that haunted him? She hoped, almost desperately, that it was the latter.

Her gaze drifted to the carriage window, where the docks sprawled out in a labyrinth of masts and shadows. The sharp cries of seagulls echoed in the salty air. She had been sitting there for what felt like hours, though the clock's slow ticks betrayed the truth. Should she approach him? Could she? Her stomach churned with nerves, the fluttering unease threatening to drown her courage before she even set foot outside.

Once more, she unfolded the letter, her eyes lingering on the signature. Yours, Roman. She exhaled sharply, as though the breath had been held captive by his name. Carefully, she folded the letter and tucked it away. The sun hung low in the sky, its morning rays gilding the ships and water alike. Thankfully, the towering silhouettes of the docked vessels cast deep shadows across the wharf, sparing her the need for her parasol. Gathering herself, she opened the carriage door, the cool, briny air brushing her face as she prepared to face the unknown.

Violet headed slowly down the docks, the afternoon excitement from the fishermen unloading their second catch of the day. She looked around the smell of the sea strong in the air. She always was a big fan of the ocean finding the mysteries in the water exciting. Her eyes glanced down at the water as it crashed against the dock, her black gown whipped wildly in the passing winds as she neared the end of the dock she began searching for Roman.

The warm air was thick with the aromas of floured fried, backed, and roasted vegetables and more prominently cooking fish. A small but orderly mob had formed near several stalls draped in the dark green blue and black of the Ravenwood house colors. The majority of the people looked to be sailors or from the nearby slums with a few others of more lavish living also waited in line. As seen by their attire.

One rather well-dressed individual was being manhandled and dragged back to the end of the line. A tall muscular man followed the trio, he was wearing light armor adorned with the Ravenwood insignia with colors that matched the awnings behind him. His slick-back blond hair adorned a rather serious face as he walked with authority. His hands rested on a pistol and a blade.

The man being dragged away was shouting about how he didn't deserve to be treated this way and he could buy their contracts out threefold. The blonde man spoke loudly, projecting his voice over the murmurs and noises of the docks, “Anyone that tries to cut in line through bribery or intimidation will be sent to the back of the line! There's plenty for all.” his gaze scanning those in line daring them to challenge him.

Violets attention turned to the spectacle watching a well-dressed man being dragged behind like a child. His arms flailing with frustrations as the Blonde guard seem to scold him verbally with embarressment. Her red eyes fixated on the rather brutish man before his glance caught her own.The man's gaze grew softer when his eyes lingered on Violet, as he was meant to be keeping an eye out for her. Red eyes watched as he approached her with a respectful bow and a smile, the authority and body language he held just a moment before melted to be more welcoming.

“Ah you must be Lady Violet Damien. My name is Sven Ekstrom, Captain of Lord Ravenwoods guard." Violet offered him a soft smile and a nod in acknowledgement. He held no accent in his voice but it sounded suppressed. “My lord asked me to keep an eye out for you and escort you to him, if that is to your liking?” “Certainly, although I was enjoying the show” her shoulders relaxed as she looked around for a moment catching her bearings. ”I am surprised Lord Ravenwood wasn’t following suit and tossing him into the water” she chuckled slightly at the idea.

Sven gave her a soft smile, “we don't care about status or how much wealth you have. Act like an ass and get treated like one.” A smile appeared on Violets face as he sank back for just a moment, “forgive my use of vulgarity, I fear I spend too much time around my men. Shall we.” “Its alright, I appreciate your honesty and frankly I couldn’t agree more. Act like an ass get treated like an ass” she grinned he gestured for her to walk beside him with that subtle but forced accent. “I'm sure my lord would have loved to throw that man or the handful of others over if he could do so.” clasping his hands in front of him while he walked. “Lord Ravenwood has suffered an unfortunate accident at the forge the other night and injured his arm. He is sulking at the end of the dock helping with food preparation. You are welcome to try some of this fish fry if it suits your fancy.”

Sulking… That was a first for Roman, atleast the Roman she knew. “I wouldn’t say no to some fresh fish.” she looked back at him with a concerned expression “How bad is the injury? I imagine not that bad if he’s still working, I hope.”

“Good, I'm sure Lord Ravenwood will be happy to share with you.” he smiled as they walked. For a moment he did have to lead her through the crowd when they neared the stalls. It was organized and running at a smooth pace, cooks in the back cleaned off the smaller chunks of fish and vegetables coating them in flour and spices then dunking them in a bath of hot cooking oil. The servers at the front plated even helpings of fried fish and vegetables in wooden bowls that were then set out on the counter for the next person to take. A wooden skewer placed in the food to eat made the line move along in an orderly fashion. For the first time in along time, Violet felt like her usual self. The smell of the fresh fried food making her appetite buzz which has been a fry cry from her usual tastes.

“Well you can see for yourself my lady, but to prepare you it's the majority of his left arm but at least he can still move it.” he laughed to himself looking back at her in the crowd of people as she weaved in and out of the crowd. “Lord Ravenwood is just upset because he has to take a break from his craft. He should count himself lucky he doesn't rely on himself for protection, he's big but not a good fighter.” Sven seemed to deliberately speak openly about Romans fighting ability or lack thereof. Letting out a soft chuckle Violet looked up at the blonde headed man with her red eyes “I think you may be under estimating him.” She moved her way past more of the crowd to the back of the line “Dont worry i’ll wait my turn” she joked as she clasped her hands infront of her as patrons were being served by the cooks taking their time to plate each item precisely.

“Ah the lord is the pretty face and the artist, I provide the muscle and fighting talent he lacks.” He laughed, keeping the volume of his voice up and made his way past the stalls. The rest of the dock was cordoned off, the stalls blocking most of the view. With a curtain being pulled back for short periods to reveal the staff butchering and preparing the fish behind the scenes. Roman stood out the most just due to his size at the back of the tables, wearing a brown apron with black gloves and filleting fish as they were handed to him. “Right this way my lady.”

Her eyes landed on him immediately, a commanding presence amidst the bustling kitchen. Roman stood head and shoulders above the other cooks, his sharp features illuminated by the golden afternoon light filtering through the high windows. His focus was unshakable, hands deftly slicing through a glistening fish with meticulous precision. The rhythmic sound of his blade meeting the cutting board seemed to harmonize with the quiet hum of the kitchen's activity.

Violet felt her breath catch, her chest tightening as a wave of anticipation coursed through her. She paused just outside the doorway, her hand lingering on the frame as she gathered herself. The weight of what this meeting might bring bore down on her, a mix of hope and trepidation stirring within.

"Thank you," she murmured to the guard who had escorted her, managing a polite smile before stepping into the warm, aromatic space.

She moved carefully, her footsteps soft against the stone floor, not wanting to startle him. Her gaze followed the graceful movements of his hands, the gleaming knife slicing effortlessly through flesh and bone. Drawing a steadying breath, she approached the counter, her heart thudding in her chest.

Clearing her throat softly, she stood a few paces away, her voice trembling slightly as she broke the silence. "Good afternoon, Lord Ravenwood," she said, her tone laced with hesitation, the formality feeling almost foreign on her tongue.

A slight glance behind him was all the acknowledgment she received. With practiced motions his knife glided through the fish releasing the white meat from the bones. Moving the meat down the line the rest of the carcass was tossed over the dock. “Hello Violet. Give me a moment to clean myself up.” She offered him a nervous smile and nod before stepping away from the counter.

another man came up to him to take his place on the line when he stepped aside. Putting up his apron and gloves, washing his hands in a bucket with soap. When he turned to her his left arm was bandaged, his hand looked cracked and burnt with dark cracks running across it in a strange pattern.

“Lady Violet, I am glad you received my letter. Please let's talk.” Roman took a basket of fried fish with him towards the end of the dock to give themselves some privacy away from the busy workers.Her eyes followed as he started to walk off, the tone in his voice caused her some hesitation but she followed behind him, her fingers fidgeting with themselves as they continued down the dock. The loud hum of the afternoon rush turned into the sound of warf bells and water crashing against the wooden planks of the dock. Thankfully for her this part too was shaded just enough that she didn’t find herself irritated by the afternoon sun. “ I’m sorry to have pulled you away” she finally said, attempting to break the tension.

He smiled, speaking once they were out of ear shot from the other workers, “no apologies necessary, if anything I was slowing them down.” resting his good arm on the wooden railing and leaning on it, “I appreciate you coming but I can't imagine that your stunning visage is comfortable in this harsh light.” Violet joined beside him,”stunning isn’t a word I would use, but the shadow helps alot. leaning against the railing as her arms draped over the edge crossing over eachother. Her red eyes that seemed more burgundy in the shade looked at him. He smiled, relaxed body language and his words were honest and relaxed. Roman knew they had both been at fault for their last encounter, despite what he was advised to do he still wanted to try and have her as his.

His eyes tracing over her scars and how her hair moved in the light breeze, “Again I do apologize for my actions.” he looked away with a sigh, “I was thinking your affliction was similar to mine when clearly it was not.” his gaze lifted to meet hers, “I do hope you can forgive me.” There was a hint of regret in his eyes, yet he still looked at her with the same softness he showed her when

Violet hesitated, the words caught in her throat, before a soft, almost tentative smile curved her lips. Her voice, quiet yet steady, finally broke the silence. "I was shocked," she confessed, her gaze drifting to the gently rippling water below as she tried to piece together her thoughts. After a moment, she added with a trace of vulnerability, "But truthfully, I don’t blame you. I think I was more surprised that you came after me than anything else."

Her dark crimson eyes flickered back to him briefly before she turned away, leaning further against the railing. Her raven-black hair tumbled around her shoulders like a silken waterfall, swaying slightly in the soft evening breeze. She exhaled slowly, as though releasing the weight of her emotions.

"I have to apologize for my actions," she murmured, her voice tinged with regret. "I knew I shouldn’t have pushed myself." She paused, the memory stirring warmth in her cheeks, a delicate flush of pale pink rising to her skin.

Her lips parted again, her words softer now, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. ”I had thought about that moment for so long… I just got carried away." A flicker of something unspoken lingered in her expression as she remembered that night.

Quietly he listened to every word and watched every twitch and emotion. Moving a step closer but still just out of reach. His face didn't falter but behind his eyes he just wanted to tell her everything. “We both pushed each other in ways we did not expect.” rubbing his fingers together in thought he continued. “We both got carried away but that doesn't mean what I said or what we did means anything less to me.” there was a slight hesitation in his voice as he softly spoke to her. “That you mean anything less to me.” Violets eyes glanced up as she bit back a smile, her lips curving into a grin before she looked away the apples of her cheeks slightly pink.

He let that silence sit between them for a few moments. raising his hand to rub the back of his neck showing slight nervousness, “was there anything else you wished to discuss?” She cast a quick glance back at him before straightening her posture, a faint tremor in her movements betraying her nerves. Drawing in a sharp breath, she scanned the area with a careful sweep of her gaze, ensuring no one else was near. Satisfied, she shifted subtly closer, her shoulder brushing against his as she closed the distance between them. Her fingers danced nervously, twisting and untwisting around one another as if they were searching for something to hold on to.

“I don’t regret anything either," she began, her voice steady yet tinged with vulnerability. "Everything I said, I meant.” She paused, letting the weight of her words linger in the air between them. Her eyes flickered upward, searching his face for any sign of reaction, any crack in his composure.

“That’s also part of why I needed to talk to you,” she continued, her voice softer now, the edges fraying slightly. “I don’t know who else I can trust who else I can fully trust.”
Her gaze dipped for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her expression before she risked looking up at him again. “And… to maybe ask for your help, she added, her voice dropping to a near whisper, the vulnerability in her tone impossible to miss. “But i’m scared to tell you…” there was a power behind her eyes, one that wasn’t there before. A darkness that appeared to be present yet calm like the calm before the storm.

He listened, hanging onto every word, watching every movement. Her words held weight and something stirred behind her eyes. He felt relieved that she accepted the apologies yet her next words made him pull back slightly. His brow furrowed and he contemplated what kind of weight whatever she might say may hold.

His path was set there wasn't any question or way to turn back with this or anything else. Without much more thought he slipped her hand into his, “you can always ask me for help and you should never feel scared of me.” Roman kept his voice low matching hers

Violet's shoulders softened as she let out a slow breath, her fingers curling slightly around Roman’s. She shifted her grip, her touch steadying her resolve. Her gaze dropped briefly, the weight of her words pressing against the silence between them.

“You’ve likely pieced it together by now,” she began, her voice quiet but deliberate, “what happened to me... the curse I bear.”

Her head tilted upward, and as her lips parted, her fangs glinted faintly in the dim light. There was no malice in her expression, only the quiet resignation of someone laying bare the truth. “The Vampyre curse.”
Her eyes fell to his arm, the faint reminder of her last transgression etched into his skin—the mark where her hunger and his mercy had collided. The memory of his vulnerability when he’d shared his own secrets with her lingered between them.

Violet swallowed hard, the weight of her confession tightening her throat. “Someone attacked me, attempting to kill me” she said, her voice strained but resolute. “And I want to find out who but there are things you should know before agreeing.”

She paused, the words hanging in the air as though deciding whether to be spoken. More lingered on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill into the quiet. He moved to her inside what would be both of their personal bubbles. To listen to make her know and feel that he was there for her.

“I’ve done terrible things, Roman…” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper. Her gaze flickered up to meet his, searching for something—understanding, perhaps, or forgiveness. The look she received was stoic but analyzing, curious, none of it betrayed any harsh, betrayed, or surprised emotions.

Her words faltered, a flash of fear crossing her face fleeting, yet unmistakable. “And I had—” she hesitated, fear tightening her features like a shadow creeping over her. Her voice lowered, as though the truth itself carried unspeakable danger. “Have… help,” she finally admitted, the weight of another’s involvement pressing down on her.

“A stable boy… someone I came to know as Darryn.” His name hung heavy in the air, a ghost of a memory she wished she could forget. Her lips trembled as the recollection seized her. The night Alexander had pressed her face into the hot, tainted liquid she had craved burned vividly in her mind. “He was the first. I don’t know what happened to his body.”
She cleared her throat, her grip tightening painfully around Roman’s fingers as if anchoring herself. “Then there were two more,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “One attacked me in an alley, the other in a similar way. I… I disposed of them in the sewers.”

A long pause stretched between them, filled only by the sound of her uneven breaths. Violet let the silence settle, forcing herself to feel the full weight of her confessions. She lifted her gaze to his, searching his eyes for the judgment she felt she deserved, bracing for the hate she feared. Tears welled, spilling over as her voice cracked.

Roman for his part continued his silent stoicism, not wanting to interrupt but not wanting to stop her either. His eyes scanned every bit of her face, her expressions, her eyes. Searching for any variation that may hint at some half truth or lie but he didn't see any of it. Darryn, the name lingering in the back of his mind. “How deep are you into this conspiracy.” he thought to himself.

“It wasn’t supposed to be me,” she whispered through a breath that hitched painfully in her chest. “Someone mistook me for…” Her voice broke entirely, the name clawing its way out like a curse. “Charlotte Vikena.”

A tear traced a lonely path down her cheek as her shoulders sagged under the weight of her words. The name tore at the fragile fabric of her identity, unraveling the truth she had always feared: She was always an accident, a shadow meant to carry burdens intended for someone else.

Her whole life had been a cruel echo of someone else's design. And now, in the face of everything, she was left to bear the scars of being the afterthought.
“I don’t know how factual the information is,” she began, her voice wavering slightly, “ “but I believe the source is reliable enough.”

Her grip on his hands loosened as a wave of uncertainty washed over her. Taking a small step back, she braced herself for his reaction, fear flickering in her crimson eyes. “There’s more, but—”

Her fangs, still visible beneath her lip, caught her bottom lip as she bit down nervously. The hesitation in her movements mirrored the storm of emotions within her. Her eyes, glowing with an unnatural intensity, flicked upward to meet his face.

“I know I don’t deserve help,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her guilt. “And I know I’m putting you in a terrible position.” Her gaze dropped for a moment before she forced herself to look at him again. “But I don’t feel like I can trust anyone else…”

Her hands slipped free from his, the warmth of his touch replaced by the cold emptiness of her clasped fingers. She stood back, her posture tense, ready to endure whatever judgment he might deliver.

“Can you help me?” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her plea. “Please…”

Her crimson eyes shimmered with unspoken desperation, her words hanging in the air like a fragile thread, nearly begging for him to bridge the chasm of fear and doubt that had formed between them.

He kept his eyes on her for a few more quiet moments then looked away in quiet pondering. This was a lot of useful information but there were gaps that didn't add up just right. The information he had on Darryn was that he was killed for having some hand in the forgotten after party.

The fact she killed someone wasnt to far flung given the amount of control she showed him on their last encounter. But this news about Charlotte was concerning, yet another issue to investigate and talk to her about.

His eyes returned to her but not with care or judgment, his look was serious and determined. “I understand that taking a life feels horrible no matter how necessary it is.” his mind remembering what she said about herself just a few nights ago. Cupping her cheek with his hand, “that doesn't make you a monster. It's when you kill just for the fun of it that you truly become a monster.” She feared that was the path she was on unless she could learn to control it.

His hand slipped from her face but his eyes kept their serious tone, “what exactly are you asking me?” the only question that truly mattered right now. “Tell me and then we can figure out the rest.”

Deciding to hold back the rest for now, Violet lifted her gaze to meet his. Her voice trembled slightly as she began, "I need your help to find out who did this…to handle the situation. To understand why they were after Charlotte and to..." She hesitated, her expression clouding with sorrow. The request felt like an impossible dream, but if anyone could help her, it was him.

"...to find a way to get my life back," she continued, her tone laced with desperation. "To rid myself of this curse…” she took in a deep breath, her eyes unbreaking from his “I'm scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her fingers drifted absently to her fang, tracing it as if it held the answer she sought. "I believe I may have sated my curse for now..." The words came hesitantly, heavy with doubt. Her arms folded around herself, a fragile shield against the fear gnawing at her resolve.

"Lord Fritz has offered to provide... a service for me," she said, her voice trailing off as she alluded to their agreement. Her gaze flickered downward before meeting his again. "If it does get out of control, I know you can control it—control me."

Her shoulders tensed, her vulnerability laid bare. "I know it's a big request. You owe me nothing, but..." She paused, her voice faltering. "I don't have anyone else I trust who can."

He had to stop himself from reaching out and holding her, the despair and fear in her voice made him feel emotions he had not felt in some time. Yet this was still something he had to plan and carefully construct. To give her everything would go against his directive but he couldn't say no, maybe she knew that too. The questions Roman was truly worried about were along the lines of is she being used as a tool against him by putting him down this path? Or was it her initiative?

These questions would be answered in time, in this moment Roman frowned, his eyes narrowed slightly and his brow furrowed. Not in suspicion even if some of it was there but in thought, in making this deal. Doing this would help Charlotte and possibly get a favor from her he could use later or maybe something else.
After a few moments of consideration, he spoke to her in a low voice, “I will help you but I have some conditions. Conditions that need full transparency and I need to know what you know so far.” Violet moved closer to him, her eyes scanning around to ensure their privacy as she nodded slowly. This was the start, getting the details about what happened to Darryn and if she was alone or not, how she killed him. “First question, when you were with Darryn, were you alone? Where did you hide him?” A short break between questions, Her red eyes searching his face as the color from hers seemed to fade slightly. “what agreement did you set up with Count Fritz and can you set up a meeting between the three of us?” His attention and the look in his eyes was different, more direct and intense, like she was seeing a side of him he hasn't shown her yet.

The intensity of the moment stole her breath, her chest tightening as she struggled to decipher the emotions etched across his face. The silence between them was heavy, almost tangible, each passing second amplifying the weight of his words. Her gaze faltered briefly, dropping to the ground before she drew in a steadying breath. Slowly, her small hands lifted, trembling slightly as they cupped the sides of his face, her fingertips brushing against the stubble on his jaw. Her eyes locked with his, wide and searching, as if memorizing every detail.

She wanted to capture this fleeting moment, to hold onto it just a little longer before the inevitable shifted their world. Rising onto the tips of her toes, her body stretched to meet his height, her lips brushing softly against his in a kiss as delicate as a whisper. She leaned into him fully, her weight pressing into his frame as if seeking both balance and refuge, her body melting against his.

To say he was caught off guard would be an understatement, it wasn't the answer he expected but he felt it all the same. Letting her slowly press into him, his arms wrapping around her back pulling her into him and he reciprocated the kiss delicately pushing his lips into hers as well. It was just as enchanting as the first kiss they shared. A heat of passion enveloped his chest, neither of them wanting to break their connection. Until he finally did.

Pulling back to look at her with a soft smile and a heavy sigh, “there are multiple sides to me, some are professional, some logical, some emotional. You will always have that emotional side of me.” his hand moved to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear her head tilting into his hand as her eyes shut. “before we continue I need you to answer that first question at least.” he wasn't pleading but his words still held a serious tone that seeped through the gentle understanding he was trying to portray.”I know…”She spoke in a hushed, almost hesitant tone, her fingers curling tightly around the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself. Slowly, her grip loosened, each fingertip lingering against the material before slipping away. As she let go, she eased herself back down, her movements deliberate yet weighted, as though reluctant to sever the connection.

”I will tell you everything. I’m tired of hiding. I just wanted a moment before everything changes. She released a quiet breath, the sound barely audible as her fingers intertwined before her, tightening with a subtle tension. Drawing in a deep, steadying inhale, her gaze lifted to meet his, but this time, the fiery vibrance of her red eyes darkened into a deeper, richer scarlet. A quiet shift ran through her posture—her spine straightening, shoulders squaring—as the air around her grew heavier with an unspoken gravity. When she looked at him now, there was no trace of hesitation, only unwavering seriousness. ”I was not alone.” There it was. The truth. ”I do request that this information stay between us and the ears that I believe are worthy of hearing it.” The tone in her voice had shifted as if a unfamiliar person was speaking to him. ”You never know who you can trust.”

Roman’s eyes never left hers as he took in all of what she had to say. No judgment showed on his features, only the nod of agreement between the duo.

”Alexander Deacon.” his named rolled off her lips like venom.

”He found me in my room, knocked me out. I found myself in a barn with a boy.” Normally these memories would bring disgust and fear out of her but as her scarlet eyes watched his face she continued with ease unwavering from the truth. ”I was sickly because I refused to feed. Death was something I rather meet agian than acknowledge what happened. The memory is slightly hazy but the boy was bleeding, scared. I didn’t know who he was but the hunger. The hunger was strong, I was at the point of starvation and the only thing that would have saved me would be blood. Alexander knew that.”

Her fingers tightened as she took in another sharp breath, her eyes not leaving his. ” He punched his fist into my belly, I fell to the ground and he dragged me to the boy by my neck. The boy had been beaten, just laying there as if he couldn’t move. I fought against him as much as I could…” As the memories of that night surged through her, each detail unfolding with vivid clarity, the deep scarlet in her eyes slowly faded, softening back to their usual shade as though a switch had been flipped. The weight of recollection settled over her like a heavy mist, dulling the sharpness in her gaze. When she spoke again, her voice wavered, cracking ever so slightly under the strain of reliving it. Yet, she pressed on, each word carrying the echoes of a moment that had changed everything.

”He shoved my face into his body and well you’ve seen what happens. I became like an animal and I drank his blood. So did… Violet hesitated, her lips parting slightly before pressing together again. His name—once so effortless to say—now felt heavy on her tongue, a weight she wasn’t sure she could bear. She stopped, not willing to finish her sentence.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Violet & Ariella

Violet took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with quiet restraint. She loathed these events—the weight of countless eyes, the expectation in their gazes, the way her name would be called out as if she were some prized thing on display. The very thought sent a twist of nerves through her stomach as she stepped down the long hall toward the banquet.

The sharp slap of bare feet against polished floors shattered the moment. Ariella Edwards came barreling down the corridor, wild-eyed and breathless, muttering a string of curses under her breath.“Shit, shit, shit.”A pair of heels dangled from her fingers as she desperately attempted to shove them onto her feet while still in motion.

Looking up from beneath the unruly mass of her hair, Ariella offered Violet a sheepish chuckle, hastily fluffing out her skirts. “Sorry…” Her expression curled into an awkward grimace as she finally settled behind Violet, preparing for their grand entrance.

Violet arched a brow, scanning her with mild amusement before offering a small, knowing smile. “It’s not a problem.” She turned back toward the doors, understanding all too well the consequences if Ariella presented herself in anything less than perfection.

An attendant stepped forward and, in a booming voice, announced their arrival.

“Presenting Lady Violet Damian and Lady Ariella Edwards.”

Violet descended the stairs into the grand hall, Ariella trailing close behind.

The weight of the crowd’s attention pressed upon them like a heavy cloak, but it was Ariella who felt its suffocating grip most keenly. She instinctively stepped to the other side of Violet, using her as a shield against her mother’s scrutinizing gaze.

Her eyes flicked through the sea of faces, seeking an anchor. Then she found him.

Callum.

Her breath hitched, her heart skipping in surprise as her gaze landed on him—on the crown atop his head. No. That couldn’t be right. He wouldn’t. Would he?

A familiar was absent from his side, only adding to her confusion. Was this what he had mentioned at in the woods?

She tore her gaze away before she could draw attention, fighting the smirk threatening her lips. If Callum wasn’t yet aware of that crown upon his head, he would not be pleased.

That thought nearly distracted her from what came next.

Ariella reached the table and sank into a shaky curtsy, dipping as low as she could manage—perhaps too low. She nearly toppled over, catching herself just in time.

“Your Majesties,” Ari murmured, each syllable laced with venom, though her lips curled into a practiced smile that masked her true disdain. The words felt heavy on her tongue, like poison wrapped in silk.

Violet followed in Ari’s footsteps but with a stark contrast in demeanor. She executed a flawless curtsy, dipping just low enough to show deference without seeming subservient. Her head bowed ever so slightly, her voice smooth and unwavering as she echoed, “Your Majesties.”

Without hesitation, both women stepped aside, allowing the next wave of guests to pay their respects. The weight of decorum settled over them as they moved toward their designated seats.

Violet slid gracefully into place between Alexander and her father’s empty seat, her gown pooling elegantly around her. She turned her attention to Mr. Deacon, her smile warm yet measured. “Mr. Deacon, I trust you are well?” she inquired, her tone polite but carrying the subtle weight of observation.

Ari, on the other hand, settled into her seat beside her mother with far less composure. She shifted uncomfortably, smoothing out the fabric of her dress before offering those at the table a fleeting, awkward smile. Her posture betrayed her unease—elbows resting on the table as she leaned forward, fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass, already counting the minutes until she could leave.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning Sola 28th
Location: Art Gallery
Interaction: Roman @ReusableSwordAlexander @FunnyGuy Lottie @Princess
Mentions: Mina @tae


Her gaze softened as she gently squeezed Roman’s arm, her fingers lingering just a moment longer before slowly loosening. Her eyes roamed his face, studying every flicker of emotion, every shadow that crossed his features. Something was off—she could sense it—but the reason eluded her.

Her attention followed the direction of his stare, landing on Mina. His fixation was unmistakable, his eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made Violet’s stomach twist.

“Is everything alright?” she asked softly, her voice barely more than a breath, tinged with the quiet hope that his answer would ease the unease settling in her chest. Her gaze swept over him once more, searching for reassurance for some sign that he wasn’t looking at Mina with interest. But that peace never came.

Her fingers slowly uncurled from around his arm, her touch slipping away like water through cracks. She cast one last glance toward Mina, watching as a man spun her with effortless grace. Then, her gaze returned to Roman, and with a quiet exhale, her arm fell to her side.

Attempting to mask her concern, Violet gave a small nod, her expression carefully composed as Roman suggested they continue their search. As she turned toward the next painting, her fingers intertwined, resting lightly against her stomach in an unconscious display of tension.
Then, her gaze landed on him Alexander. He sat there beside Charlotte, his posture relaxed, his lips curving into a knowing smile that sent a sharp tremor through her. A sudden misstep caused her to stumble, her back pressing against Roman’s solid frame for the briefest of moments before she caught herself. The warmth of his presence lingered, but her focus remained elsewhere.

Her crimson eyes darkened into a richer shade of scarlet, a subtle shift that accompanied the slow curl of a smile upon her lips. There was something almost predatory in the way she carried herself now, her poise effortlessly composed despite the flicker of turmoil beneath the surface.

"I'm just going to invite her for some tea," she murmured, tilting her head slightly as she glanced over her shoulder at Roman offering him a smile. "It's been a while since I last spoke with my friend. We should go say hello."

Without another word, she turned on her heel, making her way toward the pair. Smiling as she reached them Violets scarlet eyes set in Alexander first with a smile still on her lips, taking notice that his hand appeared to be absent of his ring before looking at Charlotte and offering a softer smile. “Mr. Deacon, Lady Vikena…I hope I am not intruding on anything important. Nice to see you both, here. Together.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

*A lovely RP header of a very pale almost translucent female with long black hair and red eyes that says Violet*

Time: Morning Sola 28th
Location: Art Gallery
Interaction: Roman @ReusableSword
Mentions: Mina @tae
Accepting Roman’s offered arm, she curled her fingers gently around his forearm, her touch light yet assured. She noted the way his gaze flickered over her, his eyes tracing her form with quiet curiosity. A knowing smile played at her lips, though she pretended not to notice, instead straightening ever so slightly, her newfound confidence radiating from her like a subtle glow.

Her scarlet eyes studied him as he admired her, the warmth of his attention settling over her like a secret. When he inquired about her well-being, she met his gaze without hesitation, her voice steady.

“Yes, I am feeling much better,” she affirmed, her tone laced with quiet sincerity. A pause, then a small squeeze of his arm as she considered her next words. “Relieved and… hopeful.”

The weight of that last word lingered between them, carrying meaning only he could truly understand.

She began to guide him through the gallery, weaving carefully between clusters of finely dressed guests. The artwork lining the walls was exquisite, but her mind was elsewhere, her sharp gaze scanning the room with purpose. This seemed precisely the kind of event Charlotte would attend and finding her was the true reason she was here. Though she did not see her at first glance, Violet continued to look stopping at an exhibit. Her attention turned to the painting “I need to speak with Charlotte” she said softly under her breath so Roman could hear, her eyes glancing up at him.

She however was distracted by a sudden sound, turning to look over her shoulder as she gripped onto Roman’s arm for support, she watched as Mina suddenly fell to the ground.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

ARIELLA

Time: 11am
Location: Gallery Opening
Mention:
Interactions:
Appearance: Light blue gown with Silver accents

As was her habit, Ariella arrived fashionably late, her carriage careening to a halt with a hurried jolt. She peered out the window, taking in the sparse cluster of guests still lingering outside, their laughter and conversation softened by the crisp evening air. Letting out a long, measured sigh, her eyes drifted to the grand entrance of the gallery. The memory of the woman’s horrified expression, when she saw muddy footprints staining her pristine marble floors, made Ariella stifle a quiet laugh. The thought felt like an inside joke shared with herself.

Tonight, she had made an effort to present herself more polished than usual. Her fiery red hair, typically unruly, had been tamed into soft, loose curls, swept back and tied neatly into a delicate bow. The light blue and silver tones of her gown shimmered in the sunlight, the fabric cascading from her waist like flowing water, elegant and unassuming.
Gathering the hem of her gown with practiced ease, she descended from the carriage, the faint click of her heels muffled by the plush carpet leading up the stone steps. For a moment, she hesitated. Why was she even here? But before she could entertain the thought further, an attendant stepped forward.

“Lady Edwards,” he greeted with a slight bow, extending a ticket toward her.

Ariella returned his gesture with a faint smile, accepting the small paper and clutching it in her gloved fingers. As she passed through the grand doors into the glittering interior, the hum of music and murmured conversations enveloped her. Her gaze was drawn to a familiar pair almost immediately.

“Lady Damien, Lord Roman,” she greeted, her tone polite but fleeting. Her attention faltered as her eyes caught on Lady Damien’s gown. Ariella’s lips twitched into a polite smile. “Nice to see you,” she added, her words slightly awkward before she stepped past them, slipping into the crowd with practiced grace.

Her sharp eyes roamed the room, cataloging the familiar faces among the sea of glittering jewels and vibrant fabrics. Lords and ladies mingled beneath gilded chandeliers, their laughter ringing out like distant bells.

She slid around the room moving around people before reaching a quiet spot in front of one of the paintings. Stopping she looked around.

Ariella…

She looked over her shoulder but no one was there. Nervously she clasped her hands in front of her attempting to distract herself with the painting.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Violet

The morning had been nothing short of a whirlwind. Violet’s room was a flurry of activity as maids scurried about, their arms laden with gowns of every conceivable fabric, cut, and color. Yet, gown after gown failed to meet her exacting standards. Her frustration grew with every rejected dress, her scarlet-red eyes narrowing as she surveyed the garments draped across her room.

“No, no... none of these,” she said, her tone sharp with impatience. Her hands swept through the air dismissively as yet another maid entered, presenting another option that would inevitably fail to impress.
Time ticked away, but her decision remained elusive. Violet felt the weight of the moment—tonight was not just any evening. It was a gallery opening, true, but more importantly, it was her chance to make an impression on her date.

Finally, when all seemed lost, the maids revealed the last option: a black gown, a departure from the vibrant or pastel pieces she had been offered earlier. Her gaze lingered, drawn to its striking design. The plunging neckline exuded daring elegance, while the shoulders were adorned with intricate metal pauldron-style jewelry. Silver ravens were engraved into the polished metal, their wings spreading as though poised to take flight. Delicate chains draped from the shoulders, catching the light and adding an air of mystery.
“Who designed this one?” Violet asked, her voice low and commanding as she stepped closer to examine it. Her confidence seemed to ignite the moment her eyes fell on the gown, a demeanor far bolder than her usual. She traced a finger lightly over the silver details, admiring the craftsmanship.

“Lady Violet I think you’ve made the right decision” her lady maid commented as Violet offered her a smile “and you’ve done a fantastic job. Thank you” she smiled.

The maids had outdone themselves. The dress, now perfectly tailored to her figure, hugged Violet's form in all the right places, the plunging neckline unapologetically revealing the scars that marked her chest. They weren’t hidden this time, as they so often were. Instead, they became part of her ensemble. The silvery glint of the metal adorning her shoulders caught the sunlight streaming through the carriage window, casting fleeting reflections on the walls inside.

Her hair was styled with meticulous care, long curls cascading down her back while one side was pulled back into an intricate braid. A silver raven pin secured the braid, tying the entire look together with an air of understated elegance and a nod to the artistry of her gown.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and the door was opened by an attendant, who extended a gloved hand to help her step down. Violet accepted the assistance with a soft smile, her crimson eyes glinting with confidence as she stepped onto the cobblestone drive.

Approaching the grand doors of the event, her eyes caught sight of Roman.

He stood with an air of effortless charisma, his ensemble bold and daring, a reflection of his artistic nature. The colors and textures of his outfit seemed alive, the details subtle yet commanding attention.

Their eyes met, and Violet couldn’t help but let a playful grin tug at her lips. She bit back a wider smile as she drew closer, the faint sway of the chains on her shoulders mirroring her steps.

“Lord Ravenwood,” she greeted, her voice velvet smooth, the hint of mischief unmistakable. Her eyes swept over him briefly, a glimmer of amusement lighting them. “You’ve certainly dressed to impress tonight. You look good.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

FLASHBACK Violet and Alexander

Violet
&
Alexander

Location: Deacon Home
Mention: Fritz/Ryn @JJ Doe, Calbert and Liliane Damien, Charlotte @princess, Roman @ReusableSword

---

The dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes made the crimson of her irises almost glow, the contrast sharper under the dim light filtering through the carriage windows. She hadn't slept in what felt like days, and it showed. Every breath came ragged, and her body ached with the kind of exhaustion that gnaws at the bones. As the carriage jolted forward, the wooden wheels creaking beneath her, her head lolled back against the cold wall with a dull thud, but she barely registered the pain.

How was she going to explain this? The truth seemed too raw, too dangerous. A lie would have to suffice. She swallowed hard, the taste of copper still heavy on her tongue, the scent of blood clinging to her like a shroud. Her hands trembled in her lap, and she felt as though she'd been on a week-long bender, her mind clouded in the haze of some vicious hangover. But this was different. This was darker. There was no alcohol to blame, no substance to numb the guilt that festered within her. Only blood. Blood on her lips, on her conscience, and the horror of what had transpired last night clawing at the edges of her sanity.

She felt hollow.

The carriage came to a halt. Violet peered out from beyond the curtain to be greeted with the sight of Alexander's home. Shit..

Violet stepped out of the carriage with the driver's help who refused to make eye contact—likely trained in discretion. Her cape whipping behind her in the wind, Violet made her way up to the large door of the manor. Sucking in her breath she lingered for a moment, attempting to mask the truth.

Inside the Deacon's home were the couple she’d be faced with yet again. Their dynamic vexing yet wholesome.

“I believe she's arrived, my love. Violet Damien.” Lianna spoke from the dining table upon hearing the horseshoes clacking slowly against the cobblestone before coming to a halt. In front of her was one of her books inscribed with braille.

“Good to hear!” Alexander commented from atop the stairs. He descended wearing slacks, a stained white apron over a plain white shirt, and black socks. The apron carried splotches of black and shades of gray. “By the way, you were right.” Alexander made it to the base of the stairs before carefully removing the apron.

“About?”

“About time management. My schedule is beginning to constrict me.” Alexander carried the apron to the ground floor bathroom and tossed it into the bathtub for the time being.

“Of course it is! Vice President of the Black Rose Trading Company and Royal Advisor to King Edin Danrose.” She scoffed, but it was with a smile. Lianna was concerned about Alexander extending himself but was still awfully proud of what he could accomplish alone. He rarely trusted pawns and even the knights of Black Rose, preferring his tasks to be completed by his careful and reliable hands.

“And don't forget my most important duty. I am also the Husband of Lianna Deacon.” Alexander chuckled as he returned from the hall that led to the bathroom. His shirt was flawless minus a speck of red paint that ended up on his collar.

“How could I forget? Even more reason that you should slow down. Others can do what you're doing. This for instance. Does the girl really need this much attention? I say, give her the instructions on her new life and let her be on her way.” Lianna shrugged with a sigh.

“There lies the problem. No one can do what I do, and that is why I am where I am in life. Love, this girl is not a distraction, I promise. I’ll show you here and now.”

“I trust that you will but you can't intend to do everything!” There was a sharpness in her tone now.

“I can. I can if I con-” He nearly snapped back before a loud knock echoed through the entry. He sighed from being unable to finish his thought but he was also sure Lianna knew what he intended to say. Her brows furrowed with concern but she quickly returned to her book to quell her thoughts.

Alexander briefly watched his wife before he walked briskly to the front door. He thought Lianna’s visage would be the saddest thing he saw today but opening the door to find Violet in such an awful state cleared the competition quite easily. He tried to settle on only raising an eyebrow but his concern bled through, causing him to furrow his brow with concern.

“Oh Scarlett… Come in and take a seat. Wherever you like.” Alexander led Violet inside by the hand and shut the door behind her. “Coffee or tea? Or…” Alexander clenched his jaw as he realized how plausible the third option was. He instinctively analyzed the distance between Violet and Lianna.

Violet noticed the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but she chose to ignore it, smoothing her features into a soft smile instead.

"Tea would be lovely," she said, her voice warm and inviting. For a brief moment, her hand tightened around his, a subtle gesture meant to reassure him and to silently convey that all was well. Her appearance however still told another story. Alexander gave a brief scrutinous glare before giving an affirmative nod to her selection of beverage before making his way to the kitchen. As their fingers parted, she clasped her hands gently in front of her, her gaze drifting over the entrance hall. The space was elegant yet understated, with dim lighting casting soft shadows against the polished floors and the ornate details of the room catching her attention in quiet appreciation.

"I hope you and your wife have been well," she added. Lianna’s face twitched ever so slightly.

“We have been. Though, it seems Alexander has less time these days.” Lianna paused to allow Violet a moment to digest her words.

“Yes, I can imagine his schedule causes him to be away from home quite often. You must be proud of him though. He is quite the businessman from what I hear. With all these events and meetings I imagine many of these things keep him busy. My father was away from home a lot. I can only imagine how my mother must have felt with her home empty.”

“True, true. What’s most important is, how you have been, Violet. Any developments with either of the two boys?” Lianna asked almost too easily.

Her eyes shot to Alexander with a glare pausing for a moment before letting out a soft laugh “Well…I am sure you know how men can be at these courting events. Something new catches their eye and they are off to their next. I suppose that is half the fun of the courting season.”

Lianna chuckled, finding Violet’s answer rather amusing.

“It sounds like fun indeed. Unfortunately, I rarely had the opportunity to experience the courting season. I bet being a count’s daughter makes it far more adventurous. Then again… you can't really take advantage of that these days, can you?”

“I could take advantage of it, much like the other ladies this season,” she mused, her lips curving into a faint, almost bittersweet smile. “But the truth is, I’ve never been one for those grand events. I attend them to please my family, to keep up appearances. Yet, deep down, I suppose I’m a romantic at heart.” Her gaze softened, eyes drifting over to Alexander entering with an entire tea set. She let out a quiet sigh before looking back at Lianna.

“I’d rather fall in love with someone naturally than be forced to mingle with people who see me as nothing more than a piece in a social game—more interested in my family's name than me.”

She gave a small, dismissive shrug, her fingers trailing absently over the edge of her gown. “Maybe it’s just not in the cards for me…” Her voice faltered, the weight of her words sinking in. But just as quickly, she composed herself, straightening her posture as if to shake off the vulnerability. “At least I have time,” she added.

“Yes but… Time is never an ally, Violet.” Her words held a slight bitterness to them. Lianna knew what it meant to have time to be an ever-looming foe. For her, it was a silent, slow-advancing siege weapon waiting to tear down her walls.

“How is it that time seems to be the theme of the day.” Alexander cut in as he prepared Violet’s tea on the opposite end of the table from Lianna. “You both discussed men, and courting and love and then you end up on the topic I can hardly stand at the moment.” Alexander complained with a playful smile on his face. “Violet, your tea is just about steeped. It should perk you up some before our little meeting.”
“ Thank you” she smiled walking over to the tray to remove her cup. She held the warm glass in her hand, the warmth offering some comfort against her cold skin. “Forgive me” she added “You are right, there rarely is enough time. No sense is wasting ours on the subject.”

“Sit” Alexander urged.

Her eyes glanced up to Alexander as she sat down in the chair with her tea in hand. She sipped on the cup before placing it on the table. “Have you been into anything interesting lately Lady Lianna? Any new hobbies?”

“Hobbies? Alexander never told me you were such a comedian. Perhaps I misheard him say ‘obedient.' They do so sound similar don’t they” She laughed with a faked innocence. “But no, no new hobbies, Violet. All I need are my books… and my husband of course.”

“Notice how I come second, Violet?” Alexander purposely took a seat between the two women, as he could feel their slight tension. Their smiles were simply masks they were wearing for his sake.

“Well, books are far more enjoyable and a lot less disappointing than a man can be,” she joked sipping on her tea as she eyed the two of them. She hoped that favoring Lianna’s words would cause less strife however she could feel the tension building.

“Well…” she said, attempting to break the ice “I don't wish to intrude on any more of your family time with your wife. As Lady Lianna stated, she already sees you less and less. Shall we move on with whatever is it I’ve been summoned here for?” Her eyes glanced over to Alexander, her deep color bright crimson eyes begged him for an out. Alexander cleared his throat.

“Of course. I’m sure we all have things to get to. But first…” Alexander faced Violet with the utmost seriousness. “Is there anything you need to share with me specifically?”

“I promise not to take offense.” Lianna chimed.

“Nothing comes to mind, why do you ask?” She finished off her tea before setting the cup back down on the table. Alexander initially raised an eyebrow. He was actually surprised by Violet’s discipline. It figured it was either that or her patience with Lianna was waning.

“For any discretion but… forget I asked. Let's begin. Since last we spoke, I have acquired the duty of Royal Advisor to the king. For the next several mornings, I will be occupied with that at the castle. However, Scarlett, if you require a place to lay low or relax, Lianna will host you with open arms. She keeps to herself, so it'll be like having your very own abode,” Alexander explained assuredly while Lianna maintained a slight smile.

Her eyes widened slightly as she relaxed in her seat. “That’s quite the generous offer.” she said, still taken aback by his words. Blinking a few times a smile spread on her face “And… congratulation is in order. That is quite the position to hold. The king is not inherently trusting with just anyone from what I hear. Quite the honor for your family. That is very exciting.” She clasped her hands into her lap. “I appreciate your offer and opening your home to me. I would be delighted, a change of scenery is always welcome.”

“You know what you’d love most?” Lianna smiled now. “Admiring Alexander's paintings. Ooh, how I miss seeing them with my own eyes. Violet, if you thought he was talented in anything, it does not come anywhere close to his paintings. But he is rather messy, so he must do it all upstairs. I would never see the mess but I worry about our guests.”

“Alexander paints?” she echoed, making Alexander let loose a light sigh. “I would love to see them. I always enjoyed art. I feel most artists are a little chaotic with their craft.” She returned Lianna’s smile before looking over at Alexander. Her eyes noted a red stain on his white shirt. The vibrant red hue reminded her of … Her mind pulled her back before she sunk too far. She was still in the thick of her charade. She couldn’t falter now. “I used to sing a lot myself, mostly to my sister. It helped her sleep on those long travels we had. She grew so quickly and didn't seem to ask for it so I never continued it much after. Never been all that artistic though. Takes talent.” Her eyes glanced back toward Lianna “Do you remember which was your favorite? Perhaps if I'm lucky enough I could see it.”

“Hmm… I have two that I love more than the others. The first is an empty dance hall. It's not pretty and doesn't invoke much thought or discussion. It's just the place where he and I first met in its rawest form. No people to take away from it. The second painting is a pair of eyes reflecting a lovely flame. It's beautiful. Hmmm.”
“What is it?”
“I think I’d like some time to myself.” Lianna admitted before unlocking the wheels of her wheelchair. She rolled back from the table and started toward the hallway before stopping in place.
“I’ll take you the rest of the way.” Alexander stood up and pushed his wife to her room, leaving Violet at the table all by her lonesome.

Watching them leave her sight Violet sat in the dining room alone. Her eyes glanced over to where Lianna once sat, seeing her stack of books and half-finished tea cup that sat, getting cold. She looked back over towards where they left before standing up and walking around to the books. The pages were lined with raised dots on the pages. Her fingers reached out slowly to touch the page, her fingers gliding over them feeling them against her fingertips. She wondered what kind of secrets the pages held.

She pulled her hand back collecting the tea cup in her hand. She looked down at it, the liquid in the cup reflecting a red hue …

There was so much blood.

“I don’t believe you can read those” Alexander suddenly returned wearing a smile. “How’s the tea?” He asked as he returned to his seat.

Startled out of her thoughts Violet's crimson eyes focused on him as she let out a nervous laugh “No…Sorry, I was cleaning up the cups and seemed to get distracted.” She moved around returning both hers and Lianna’s cup to the tray. “It was good, thank you again.” She smiled at him before returning to her seat as well.

“Splendid!” Alexander placed an elbow on the table while resting his cheek against his fist. “I take it, you met with the count. How was it? I know he’s still breathing but were you able to quench your thirst?” The man spoke as if he was discussing something so trivial, his tone light and relaxed.

Sitting there she stared at him with disbelief. What could she expect from him, sympathy? Empathy? Concern? Violet let out a soft chuckle but there was no humor on her face. “It went as well as you likely expected it would.” She replied her tone was cold and brash. Different from how they had been talking with his wife present. “How was tucking the king into bed?” she asked mocking his demeanor “Did you make sure to get him a hot glass of milk too?”

Alexander let out an unamused sigh, yet his smile remained. Reminding him of that first meeting did not conjure up the best of memories, specifically the milk. It was a good thing he was wearing his ring right now.

“Well, unfortunately, I haven't had the opportunity to work with him during the late hours. However, breakfast in bed was nice. You can't beat food, comfort, and companionship.” He jested.

“And, just a friendly piece of advice… Be honest with me. I am not seeking perfection from you, Scarlett. Let go of the shame and doubt. It's just us two.” He reached out his free hand to her, flexing his fingers as an invitation to take it.

Her eyes glanced down to his outstretched hand. She lingered for a moment. Part of her didn't want to take it but the other did. His friendly pieces of advice weren't always so friendly.

Her hand slipped slowly into his as the other rested on the table “What would you like me to say?” She asked her eyes glancing up at him as she felt his soft fingertips under her own. “You knew what I was walking into. He's alive and has the information you requested. That's all that matters.” She said pointedly. Surprisingly, he flashed a toothy grin.

“You think too highly of me. If I knew, I wouldn't ask.” He admitted as his hand grasped hers firmly. “And that's not all that matters, Scarlett. Come here.” There was a slight pull from his hand as he sat up. “I can tell you're holding back. You know I won't bite.” His fangs popped and retracted for effect while her brows furrowed at the terrible joke.

Offering little resistance, Violet went into the pull standing from her chair she stood in front of him. Their hands were still interlocked. “I know…it's a shame,” she joked, flashing her own toothy smile down at him in response. She remembered just how vile her blood tasted to him.

She relaxed her shoulders as she dropped the act she held onto for so long. Her darkened eyes looked into his “I can't control myself,” she admitted softly. Her terrifying truth failed to shake Alexander.

“Sit with me,” he offered softly as he pulled gently toward him while adjusting himself in his seat. With little thought, she sat down on his lap with him comfortably holding her. The act appeared to be more nurturing than sensual, though it was not without a touch of intimacy. The space between them had been erased.

“You can conquer this… It just takes a heavier hand. But first I must ask, would you condemn others for it?” Violet's eyes moved to look at him, her expression reflecting one of confusion.

“Going into murderous blackout rages?” She glanced away from him. “I suppose not. It’s not supposed to be this hard though…not by what I’ve read. So someone gets a papercut and I’m just going to have them for a late-night snack?” She let out a frustrated sigh. “How am I expected to lead a normal life?”

“It’s a unique situation but there has to be some sort of remedy. Something to tip the scales back to being even. Perhaps we need to discover how much you need to consume in one sitting. Have you ever had enough? Like the man in the alley or the stable boy, Darryn?” Alexander pondered if it could be a psychological issue, like an addiction he’d seen in users of opium. Marek came to mind.

“I don't think I’ve gone long enough to know the answer to that.” Darryn? So he had a name… she thought to herself. “ I’ve never felt…satisfied I suppose. At first, it seemed to help my body just function. I've been too afraid to see what happens if I don't. I’d rather not use a cane again.” She shrugged her shoulders “The minute I smell it, see it…It's like these claws just appear from the shadows and pull me into a pit. I end up coming too after everything is done and I’m stuck cleaning up a frenzied mess.”
“You blackout?” Staring at her seriously, he questioned what such a thing could mean. He had so many questions and knew of no source of information that could provide the answers for him. None except Violet.

“Did it occur the night we met? It couldn't have. You fought so hard against feeding.”

“No it didn’t.” she said slightly defeatidly. “After that night things got better but I started losing myself slowly each time I smelt blood. At first, I could handle it but It happened one night with the man in the street. Roman found me passed out in an alleyway. then once again with him when I accidentally bit him. I felt it coming so I fled. Then last night with Fritz.” She took in a breath “I’ve become a shut-in worried that something mi-.”

“Shhhh…” Alexander looked at the opened palm of his hand. “Show me.” He simply said before he removed his ring.. Violet's breath hitched in her throat as her eyes watched him place his ring on the table. “Any blood should work, I think.” Alexander presented the space between his thumb and forefinger up to Violet’s face. “Go ahead. I want to see it.” He couldn't hold back his slight smile.

“What? No.” She said firmly slapping his hand away. “Don’t be stupid, I barely made it out after what happened last night.” She looked at him with frustration “Why even suggest it?” Alexander only sighed and shook his head at her, obviously frustrated.

“Firstly, it wasn't a suggestion. Secondly, I’m not interested in you right now.” Alexander popped his fangs and bit into his hand. The moment he broke the skin, and displayed the bleeding wound in all its glory. “Hmm, Let’s see who comes out.”

Her eyes darted to his bloodstained hand, pupils dilating as the metallic scent hit her senses. It wasn’t as rich and intoxicating as Lord Fritz’s, lacking that almost sweet allure. Instead, this blood carried a sharper, more acidic tang, yet it still stirred something primal within her, a darkness that coiled and writhed with anticipation. Her chest rose sharply as she inhaled deeply, the rush of temptation overwhelming her. Without thinking, her hand shot up, fingers curling around his wrist in a desperate attempt to push him away. Her grip was unsteady, trembling with the strain of holding back, each tremor betraying the raging war inside her.

Her crimson eyes locked onto the drops of blood that slowly slid down his skin. The world around her blurred, the sounds and sights fading as if swallowed by the haze of her growing hunger. She couldn’t tear her gaze away; her body shuddered as the last remnants of resistance crumbled. His hand moved to her lips with sudden, ravenous speed, and her fangs emerged, sharp and ready, tearing through her restraint as easily as they pierced his flesh. She bit down hard causing him to wince, the warm blood rushing into her mouth, flooding her senses with a heat that made her pulse race. Each swallow brought a dizzying rush, her body trembling as the darkness within her reveled in the feast. All the while, Alexander grinned uneasily from both the pain and satisfaction of giving her what she craved.

It burned as it went down. The foul taste of his blood was almost nauseating yet she couldn’t stop. Her hand gripped tighter around his wrist while the other wrapped around his fingers as the blood dripped down the corner of her mouth. She’d take the free and easy meal.

...

…

…
But hen came sudden pressure from Alexander's forefinger and thumb against her cheeks. The force of his grasp was enough to force her jaw open to release her bared fangs from his hand. Her jaw was unlatched with near ease as she felt a sudden confusion in the darkness. The sour taste of his blood still in her mouth as she struggled to swallow it down.

“Ah, how this brings a new meaning to ‘biting the hand that feeds you’,” Alexander commented before forcefully shoving Violet from off his lap. “Now, are you able to speak or are you some sort of mindless beast now, Scarlett?” He asked, standing up and rolling his shoulders to prepare for the confrontation.

Violet wiped the blood from her lips slowly with the back of her hand, savoring the lingering taste of his blood as she rose to her feet with deliberate grace. Her eerie grin widened, the red in her eyes glowing brighter as she locked her gaze on Alexander, her voice a low, mocking purr.

"Oh, darling Alexander," she cooed, her pout quickly shifting into a wicked smile. "If I'm a beast, it's because you’re the one who freed it." Alexander’s eyebrows raised in awe. He had his guesses but he wasn't completely sure he'd uncover this from Violet. It was but a gamble. She took a slow step toward him, eyes gleaming with menace, her voice dripping with contempt.

"I could speak, yes... but why waste my words on someone so deliciously insignificant?" Her eyes flickered toward his wound, blood still fresh, a dark hunger playing across her face. "You really should be more careful with your blood. It’s hard to stop once I've had a taste. Though I can’t say I quite enjoyed it. It was rather ‘vile’," she mocked with her smile growing sharper and more predatory. “But I’ll be sure to make the next bite more memorable.”

“Oh really?” Alexander chuckled and peered up toward the gods. He felt that they had both humored and blessed him today. Returning to her gaze he stifled a second chuckle. There was not an ounce of fear in him. He absolutely loved this. “Who are you? You are not the young woman I know.” Though he smiled, he was prepared for things to become violent. He had so many questions but had no clue how long this whole thing would last. She tilted her head back, laughing softly, a cold, mirthless sound that echoed in the dark. Her eyes flickered with malice as she stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its cornered prey.

“Who am I?” She echoed mockingly, her voice dripping with venom. “Oh, Alexander... I’m exactly who I’ve always been.” Alexander took note of her words but hardly believed them to be true.

Violet straightened her posture, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she eyed his wound once more. “And don’t flatter yourself—your blood was hardly a delicacy. But next time...” She sucked the remaining of his blood from her fingertips, her eyes glowing with sinister intent. “... Well there won’t be a next time.” Her eyes looked up to his again.

“Cutting your hand…Tossing me off your lap like trash” she scoffed. “You’re lucky I don’t finish…And with your wife down the hall.” She interlocked her fingers in front of her, resting them against her dress, the wicked grin still present on her face “What would she think of this mess you’ve made?”

“She’ll think whatever I tell her, Scarlett.” Alexander shrugged before he started walking toward her. Violet’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, simmering fury as Alexander spoke. Her eyes narrowed at the name "Scarlett,” the tension in the room thickening as he closed the distance between them. “Forgive me for the push. I didn't know what I was going to get. I still don't know what I have now.” He stopped with only a foot between them. “But I think I admire this version of you but why make… Violet? We’ll call her that. Why make Violet suffer? This bloodlust is obviously just you trying to stretch your legs. I theorize that the more blood you drink, the longer you remain as this.” Alexander then offered his bloodied hand.

“I would rather lick the dirt off the bottom of your shoe than taste you again.” Her eyes looked up at him.

“You think you can shape the truth to your liking?” she spat, her voice a low, dangerous hiss. “You underestimate me, Alexander. Violet doesn’t suffer because of some petty bloodlust—she suffers because I allow her to. She is a cage, and when I decide to break free, it’s not just for a taste of blood.” Her eyes flicked to his hand, contempt flashing across her face as she took a deliberate step toward him, erasing the space between them. Alexander maintained his composure, unintimidated, despite her closeness. Instead, sinful thoughts polluted the corners of his mind.

“And you theorize?” she mocked, her lips twisting into a cruel smirk. “You don't know a damn thing about what I am.” Her gaze dropped to his bloodied hand, “This... version of me? She doesn’t just stretch her legs. She devours.” She leaned in closer, her breath chilling against his skin.

“Does she?” He leaned in and pulled her even closer, his forehead pressing against hers. “I’m not here to argue with you.” He whispered. “I only wish to know you. To understand you. My caged monster.”

She echoed his words, her voice a low, velvety purr dripping with mockery.“Your caged monster?" Her tone was both cruel and amused, as though she were humoring a child with a delusion far too grand for him to grasp.

Shifting from his face, she leaned in, close enough that her lips nearly brushed his ear, her fingers trailing down his jawline like the touch of a predator toying with its prey. Her nails grazed his skin, a whisper of danger, before she pulled back just as quickly, her gaze sharpening with malice.

"Is that what you think I am?" Her expression twisted into contempt as she stepped away from his grasp, unamused by his pathetic attempt to charm her. There was a brief grimace from Alexander as she denied him.

"Let me be clear," she continued, her voice sharp as a blade, each word cutting through the false intimacy he tried to create. "I am not yours. I am no one's."

"Your pathetic charade of interest—" she spat, "bores me. It's hollow. Empty. Play your party tricks on someone more gullible."

You do not cease to amaze me. Threatening, sure. Dangerous, likely. There's so much resentment. What soothes you, tender wound?

Violet stopped, her gaze locking onto him, eyes gleaming with a sinister promise. "With Lord Fritz now under my consignment you'll be seeing much more of me I am sure." Her lips curled into a cold smile. "Violet can’t keep denying me much longer. She’s already faltering. I spent much of her evening creating havoc in her mind; she didn’t take it too well."

“That explains the appearance… And your end goal? Drive her mad? Make her take her life? Seems rather short-sighted and small-scale. I’m curious.”

She grinned. “It's much simpler than that. Eventually, I will gain control, over time and slowly. It's for her good in the end. Taking her life is so …” She thought for a moment. “Cheap. No … I am simply here to protect her. You see my former self is gullible.” She paused, her eyes searing into him. “Though you have figured that out already with your gentle hand and soft words until what? You’re bored of her? You decide to attempt to dispose of her?” She smirked, wiggling her finger toward him before relaxing them at her side. “Not happening. My former self is a dreamer, a romantic … a shadow often unseen. Sitting in corners keeping to herself because heaven forbid she gets in someone's way. Little good that did for her. A silent assassin, mistaken identity….a replacement.” Her words ended with a bite as her eyes locked back onto Alexander. “She was so afraid of becoming a monster but that fear opened the door for me to exist.” She noticed that she had wiped the smile off of Alexander's face. His expression could only be described as unamused.

“You hardly make any sense.” Alexander returned to his seat and adjusted it so he could face her. “You want to protect her by taking her over? Come on, you can't care about her if you're tormenting her like you do. You just want her body, which is well and fine. It's quite a lovely one to have.” He grabbed a napkin from off the table and placed it against his bite wound. “I’m curious about what you'll do once you achieve such a thing. It can't just be for drinking blood the way you do.”

Turning, Violet pressed her back against the wall. She looked at him with softer eyes. “That is the point. You’re not supposed to understand. I don't torment her for sport or fun, it's a lesson.” She offered him a toothy grin before retracting her fangs. "I suppose that is something you will just need to find out. I can’t give away the ending to a story. It would spoil it.”

Pushing herself up from the wall, Violet walked around the table beside him, she reached for a napkin off the table, and dipped it deep into a water glass. Extending her hand out she offered to take his wounded hand. " Regardless of what I do, she fights me on it when it comes to you.”

“Who else does she really have?” He offered up his hand.

“Me,” she replied as the wet cloth soaked up the dried blood between his fingers. She moved the cloth over the wound.

“This. This moment we are having right now together only proves my worth to her livelihood. Unexpected, yes, but not regrettable,” he spoke solemnly.

"I think you cheapen it. She doesn’t choose this out of desperation, or out of pure survival. She is happy with her books. Loneliness isn’t something she fears. She grew up with its miserable company. Seclusion is her comfort.”

Wrapping the cloth around his hand she tied it off to hold the pressure, her hand moved to his face her fingers dragging along his jaw before gripping onto his chin. Moving his head with her hand forcing him to look up at her she stood comfortably between his legs. "You notice her body, You find excuses to meet with her and even take her under your employment.” Her fangs reappeared as she grinned, leaning down above his face, her deep red eyes scanning his as her fingers tightened slightly on his chin. Alexander remained ever stoic as she made him face her. "Just how she, while tired and exhausted, runs to your calls.”

Her eyes narrowed in. This time without invite, she sat back down into his lap releasing his chin from her grip "What is it exactly that you want with me darling Alexander…” Her voice dropped with a sultry whisper. "Your life leaves little time for much but yet you continue to make room for her. Why?”

“Just company and keeping her from undoing herself… Why can't it be that simple? I haven't asked her to compromise herself in any way in the short time I’ve known her. I could do it. I’m sure you know she'd listen to me.” He sighed. “My life is merely extra time afforded to me and I'm quite fine with using all of what I have left now. I do what I must and achieve what I desire.”

"Sounds more like survival than living” Violet leaned back against him in the chair ”You make it sound so bleak. You do what you must and achieve what you desire yet somehow manage to fit Violet within that for company and babysitting? Doesn’t sound simple at all.”

“I make it look good, I guess.” Alexander shrugged with a confident smirk.

The darkening of her mind was fading, the fingers of darkness that held her down were wavering, and Violet's demeanor was already calming back down. "Sounds untruthful, actually, whether it's to me or yourself. That has yet to be seen.” She started to get up from out of his lap standing once again between his legs as she leaned against the dining table. “And she would listen to you…that’s the problem.”

“It’s not a problem if she benefits from my guidance. You probably only see it as control. Another cage perhaps.” He stared up at her. “The real question I've been wanting to ask is… What is it that you want from me? Something to assure you that I am no threat to your well-being… or something else?”

Violet's grin spread slowly across her face, sharp and mischievous, revealing the faint glint of her teeth. "Where would be the fun in telling you?" She teased, her tone laced with challenge. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned in slightly, savoring the tension. "I guess that's something you'll need to find out for yourself."

But as the last of her words slipped from her tongue, Violet's mind began to shift. The darkness, once a comforting shroud, started to recede, and a wave of discomfort washed over her. Her grin faltered, and her lips twisted into a cringe, her expression souring. She blinked rapidly, a sudden feeling of unease crawling up her spine. Alexander managed a wicked smirk.

"What... is that?" she murmured, her voice soft, laced with confusion. Her eyes darted around the room as if seeking something tangible to explain the sudden shift. Her gaze landed on the half-empty glass of water she'd abandoned earlier on the table. Desperate for clarity, she reached for it, her hand trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips.

She drank deeply, the cool water rushing down her throat, but it offered no relief from the taste of his blood in her mouth. Instead, a grimace twisted her features as the taste hit her. "Is this what I tasted like?" she muttered, disgusted, her brow furrowing. "It's awful..." She swallowed hard, her stomach churning as she downed another large mouthful, trying to rid herself of the lingering bitterness. Each gulp only made it worse, the unsettling sensation settling deeper into her gut. Her eyes glanced over to the silently observing Alexander who sat in the chair, looking around the room then back to him. Her face softened, unaware of what just happened. Pushing herself she moved away from the table to sit back down in the chair across from him.

“You seem to be having some sort of complication,” Alexander commented calmly as he rose from his seat and started walking from the table.“To think water can taste so foul to you. So interesting.” He disappeared into the kitchen while humming away.

Violet looked around confused, The taste in her mouth was so strong and she remembered Alexander cutting his hand then just…nothing. Had she imagined it? She touched her lip idly pulling away expecting to see blood but there was nothing. Her red eyes lingered on her fingers for a moment, trying to force some kind of thought or memory but still there was just nothing. She began to feel uneasy. Her red eyes moved toward the direction Alexander left until she relaxed back into the chair. Maybe it was nothing.

Except, Alexander returned with a grin and a small vial in his hand filled with dark red liquid. On it was an off-white label with the letter “V” scrawled on it.

“Huh, am I too late?” The puzzled look on Violet's face told him everything he needed to know. He returned to his seat. “I guess I’ll enjoy this myself.” He raised an eyebrow as he held the vial up from its bottom.

Violet’s breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening as she froze, eyes fixed on the vile before her. Blood. The word slithered through her mind, a sinister whisper laced with laughter. The darkness within her stirred, coiling with twisted delight, gnawing at her mind like a creature long deprived of satisfaction.

"Too late?" she echoed, her voice a faint rasp. Her gaze lingered on the vial, an object of both terror and temptation, its presence dizzying. She could feel the darkness pressing closer, closing in, swimming in eager anticipation as her mind swayed, balance slipping beneath her. The voices swelled, an uproar of desperate claws raking through her thoughts, dragging her down, drowning her.

“And she returns.”

"It would be rude of a host to not offer their guest refreshments," she purred, her tone low and dangerously playful.

“Of course but your host has a stipulation. I promise to be fair. Something small for something small. It’ll serve to benefit both of us as well.”

"Go on.." she motioned her hand as she leaned against the chair.
“You and I are in agreement. You're obviously what's best for yourself.” He flashed her a toothy grin. “I just think you’d do better if you contained yourself a tad. You need Violet to feed but you make her fear doing so. In short, drink less in one sitting and she'll be more willing to accept letting you take control. She won’t fear killing her friends and associates. Meanwhile, I'll ensure she accepts the blackouts as she experiences them. Eventually, she won't even fight against you. She'll trust you even.”

Sitting in silence Violet allowed his words to sink in. Her red eyes narrowed in on his toothy grin as she matched his with her own. "Interesting stipulation." She tilted her head to the side "What do you get out of this exchange? Why are you so concerned about what’s best for me?" She pouted dramatically. “It’s been so fun. It better be a good one."

“Simple. I already agreed to walk beside you on this path, so it's only right that I make this war against yourself a short one.” Alexander held out the vial to her. “There are few vampires left. We should cooperate when we can.”

She let Alexander’s words hang in the air for a moment, savoring the faint taste of manipulation, the thrill of his calculated offer. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the arm she leaned against, each tap echoing her thoughts. She tilted her head even further, studying him. With a slow, almost lazy gesture, she reached for it,

"You’re full of plans, Alexander," she murmured her voice now a playful whisper. She moved the vial between her fingers as if it were a flat coin as the thick liquid moved in a mesmerizing dance. Her eyes moved from the vial to his. "If you make me regret my decision." She smirked sitting back up in her chair "Well… let's hope that doesn’t happen." She paused "You have yourself a deal. No more tormenting, I will save my fun. For now."

“Really? So you do have a soft spot for me.” Alexander wore a devilish grin. “Now, Scarlett, what do you plan to do with that added time in your grasp?” Alexander kept his eyes on hers, those red orbs that entranced him. In truth, he wanted to dissect her in so many different ways.

She tilted her head slightly, her red eyes glinting. "What I plan to do with this 'added time'… Well, let's just say I've never been one to waste a good opportunity."

She shrugged "Maybe I will spend it tormenting you instead. Who knows…" She leaned back, still twisting the vile between her fingers. ”Fritz was quite the interesting character…Something unseen there, perhaps he may be fun, plus he offers himself so freely. How could I say no?” She shrugged again as if sharing a personal intrusive thought. Alexander simply shrugged back, seemingly unbothered.

“I’m still surprised you trust him but do what you must. If you have no need for me, just say so and I will get back to painting.” His eyes remained on hers, anticipating her reply.

“Trust is not a word I would use associated with Lord Fritz.”

Alexander nearly smirked at Violet’s comment but strangely, he winced unexpectedly with a groan. What is it that you desire, my love? He managed to shoot Violet a charming smirk but her eyes scanned him after his odd behavior.

“You should get back to your painting…” She eyed him suspiciously before gripping the vile and sitting up. “I trust you will give Lianna my regards…”

“Of course. Of course, Scarlett. Before you go… May I speak to Violet before you go? I need her ear.”

It didn’t take long for her walls to fall as Violet looked around blinking. First down to the vile in her hand then back up to Alexander. She felt as if she had fallen asleep for a moment likely due to her lack of rest the night prior. “I’m sorry…I didn’t get much rest last night. Don’t feel myself today.” she admitted rubbing one of her eyes with her free hand. Alexander stifled a chuckle.

“You couldn't have said that better. Do you truly believe you fell asleep and conjured that vial in your grasp? A woman with a magic touch?” Alexander teased with a joyful smile.
Violet blinked again, her fingers tightening around the vial in her hand as if to assure herself it was real. The teasing tone in Alexander’s voice didn’t go unnoticed, but she was too tired to muster much of a retort. The tone of her following words was light, but there was a hint of weariness that couldn’t quite be hidden. Still, Violet’s eyes narrowed slightly, her sharpness returning even through the fog of tiredness.

“Next time you think you’ve caught me unaware, do try a bit harder. I don’t need a magic touch to notice a cruel joke. I’ll do better to inform myself of the events during a blackout that I have full control over.” The sarcastic tone in her voice was not usual for Violet, a hint of Scarlett biting back at him to remind him she wasn’t gone. It even wiped the smile from his face, forcing him to put some more thought into his next move.

Patience. Patience is the answer. I am far from sated but all that I have learned today will have to do.

Her gaze lingered on Alexander for a moment longer than necessary, and though her expression softened just a touch, the sharpness never quite left her eyes.“Do you still require me or am I free to get some rest.”

“Rest.” He smiled. “And… Don't let your fears keep you from it. Don't let your fears keep you from that either. Do drink it soon or it’ll spoil.” Alexander nodded toward the vial in her hand before looking into her eyes. She gave him so much to think about and to think he was a man already pressed by time.

Standing, she straightened up and offered him a nod paired with a soft, fleeting smile. Her fingers tightened around the vial in her hand, its glass cool and smooth against her palm. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice low and restrained. Turning on her heel, she made her way toward the front door, her steps steady but carrying an air of detachment.

Her crimson eyes darted around briefly, taking in the familiar surroundings as her grip on the vial faltered slightly. The letter “V” etched into its surface caught the light, its significance heavy in her mind as she descended the steps outside.

The crunch of gravel underfoot was accompanied by the carriage’s movement to a spot closer to the home’s walk path, the clatter of hooves breaking the quiet. Yet her focus remained on the vial, her gaze fixed as if the small object held the answers to an unspoken question.

With deliberate care, she pulled the cork free, and the potent, metallic scent of blood hit her nostrils with a force that could have been overwhelming—but it wasn’t. The darkness she often battled didn’t stir. It neither mocked nor consumed her. Instead, she tipped the vial, letting the thick, crimson liquid spill out. It splashed into the dirt at her feet, pooling there like a forgotten offering.

Slipping from her grasp it fell to the ground with a muted thud. Without hesitation, her foot came down hard, crushing the fragile glass beneath her shoe. A sharp crack pierced the air as the shards crumbled to near dust, mixing into the earth below. Within moments, the remnants were swallowed by the dirt, rendered nearly invisible.

Violet peered over her shoulder one more time before stepping into the carriage.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Flashback, Sola 27th
Ariella Edwards

Darkness. Unease. Whispers.

Ariella paced barefoot through the woods, the cool earth clinging to her feet and leaving a faint trail of disturbed dirt behind her. Her usual carefree glow, the lighthearted energy that often radiated from her, had faded into something distant and strained. Worry etched itself deeply into her features, her furrowed brow and the way she bit her lip betraying the weight of her thoughts.

The early part of the afternoon had been a pleasant distraction. She had spent it with Lorenzo, learning the subtleties of gardening and the intricate language of plants. His knowledge was vast, and his patient explanations had given her a new appreciation for the natural world. Together, they had shared techniques, ideas, and quiet moments of camaraderie, and Ariella found herself savoring his company as much as the knowledge he imparted.

For a few days, the simplicity of working the soil and tending to plants had offered her a welcome reprieve from the heaviness she carried. But as the sun began its descent and the forest around her darkened with the golden hues of late afternoon, that weight returned with a vengeance. It was an invisible, unrelenting pressure pressing down on her chest a feeling she couldn’t quite name but couldn’t ignore.

Her pacing quickened as her thoughts swirled, tangled and unresolved. Despite the warmth of the memories she had made with Lorenzo, something deeper loomed in her mind, a shadow that refused to be shaken.
Something had changed.

The day Callum spoke about, finding the shadowed figure and something else. She could feel it. Her toes dug deeper into the dirt as she crouched down, holding onto her legs as her arms wrapped around them holding onto herself tightly. Her eyes shut as she relaxed her body listening closely.

"Arielllllla..."

"Ariella..."

The voice was faint, but it sliced through the din of her thoughts with an eerie clarity. Her eyes flew open, her pulse quickening as she instinctively braced herself against the ground. One hand caught on the thick dirt, grounding her as she scanned the woods with a frantic gaze. But there was nothing no movement, no figure in the shadows. Only the whispering trees and the soft rustle of leaves carried by the wind.

The sound had felt so real, so close, as if her name had been plucked from her soul and spoken aloud. Yet, she was alone.
Swallowing hard, Ariella shifted, lowering herself onto her knees. Her palms pressed firmly into the earth, as if anchoring herself to something solid might steady the sudden storm of unease inside her. The cool soil grounded her, its rough texture pressing into her skin a reminder of where she was—here, in the woods, surrounded by the hum of nature.

She drew in a slow, deliberate breath, her chest rising and holding the air until it almost burned. Shutting her eyes, she let her other senses sharpen. Her ears strained to pick up even the faintest sound, her body attuned to every vibration around her.
The forest seemed to still in response, its usual symphony of life fading into a quiet that was almost unnatural. All she could do now was listen—listen for the voice that had spoken her name, listen for the wind to carry its secrets once more.

Ariella…..

Ariellaaaaaaaaa….

The voice continued to call to her, speaking her name in only whispers on the wind. The voice continued to call out to her, its voice dark and melodic. What was calling her? She had felt a shift, she knew something had changed. Her connection to the earth tilting on its balance. Something was coming and it wanted her.

Ari’s eyes opened slowly as she felt the chill in the air tickle her skin with anticipation. She pulled the Starcatcher book in front of her. She looked down at the book with bated breath as her fingers fiddles nervously on her lap. The protection spell on Callum had worked, the effigy she had made was burned and dusted in soot. She found it when she first came to her little hideaway. Thankfully it hadn’t caught fire or many of her books would have gone in flame. She picked it up in her hand as it laid idly beside her, parts of Twiggs falling and crumbling in her hand. What kind of magic had he unleashed that caused the spell to trigger? She looked down at the idle inquisitively before setting it back down.

Opening Star Catcher, she landed on a page she had been attempting to try for what felt like years. Nervous, something holding her back from knowing, Ari stared down at the page with apprehension.

Interpreting Your Magicae

“Be aware that magicae can change as your ambitions and life circumstances evolve. Regular self-reflection and personal growth can influence your magicae over time.” Ari read out loud as her finger trailed across the page of the book.

Ariella’s gaze remained fixed on the book as if the answers might leap from the pages into her mind. She took the tome in her hands, the weathered leather binding cool against her fingertips, and rose to her feet. Crossing the short distance to the creek that bisected her secluded camp, she knelt beside the water, her skirts brushing against the soft earth.

The creek was narrow but deep, its crystalline surface reflecting the flicker of sunlight filtering through the dense canopy above. At around four feet deep, it was just enough to immerse herself while keeping her head comfortably above the surface. She ran her fingers over the text again, mentally checking off the necessary details.

The book had advised bringing a second person to assist in the ritual, but Ariella dismissed the idea with a quiet sigh. Trust was a rare commodity in her life, and while Cal would have been her first choice, he had been unusually preoccupied. He’d spent time with her recently, reminiscing about the chaos of her brother’s party and laughing over her mother’s antics. Yet even those moments of levity had been tinged with the weight of his responsibilities. His mention of a looming meeting with the Queen and warnings about the growing fear of magic had left her unsettled.

The threat of hunts returning made this endeavor all the more risky, but the idea of joining a coven was too alluring to resist. If she were to find a place among them, she needed to be prepared. Ariella glanced at the shimmering water, her reflection rippling back at her, and set her jaw with quiet determination. This was a risk she would have to face alone.

Ariellaaaaa...

There it was again—that inexplicable sensation tugging at the edges of her consciousness, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. The air grew heavier, prickling her skin with a chill that ran deeper than the crisp breeze. Something was calling her, faint but insistent, stirring a mix of unease and intrigue.

Ariella inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she took a tentative step into the cold, moving stream. The water swirled around her ankles, biting at her skin like icy tendrils. Her gaze dropped to the uneven creek bed, her steps slow and deliberate to avoid slipping on the moss-slick stones. With each step deeper into the stream, the chill climbed higher, sending shivers coursing through her body.
Finally, she knelt, flinching as the freezing water splashed against her thighs, seeping through the fabric of her clothes and sending another shudder up her spine. Carefully, she placed the book on the grassy edge of the creek, its leather cover glinting faintly in the sunlight. Her knees pressed into the creek’s rocky floor, and she slowly lowered herself, the cold water rising over her chest, stealing her breath for a moment.

Her crimson hair spilled out around her as the current caught it, twisting and twirling in fluid spirals. The fiery strands danced against the stream’s gentle push, a stark contrast to the crystalline water. Fully submerged now, Ariella felt the weight of the water press against her, a strange stillness settling over her as if the creek were holding its breath along with her.

Ariella drew in a deep, steadying breath, her eyes falling shut as she fought to silence the persistent voices echoing in her mind. Their call was relentless, but she focused on pushing them away, forcing her thoughts to still. “Magicis facultatem,” she murmured, the phrase rolling softly off her tongue. She repeated it, her voice a whisper carried away by the current as she grew more comfortable with the incantation.

With each repetition, her body began to relax, tension melting away as she sank into a tranquil state. The icy chill of the water dissipated, replaced by an unexpected warmth that radiated outward from her core. Slowly, she opened her eyes, startled but entranced by the sight that greeted her. A vibrant yellow light shimmered in the water, glowing softly as it swirled and pooled around her submerged form, moving with an almost sentient grace.

“Magicis facultatem,” she repeated, her voice steadier now. The golden light began to pulse, rhythmic and hypnotic, perfectly synchronized with the steady thrum of her heartbeat. Ariella watched in wonder as the color grew brighter, its energy palpable, filling the stream with a vibrant glow.

But as the golden light danced, a creeping darkness began to stir at the edges. Black tendrils of ink slithered into the yellow glow, curling and twisting like serpents. They encircled the light, creating a sharp contrast that was both mesmerizing and ominous. The blackness seemed to devour the edges of the yellow hue, inching closer with each heartbeat.

Ari’s brow furrowed, a flicker of unease breaking through her focus as she felt the energy shift. Her aura darkened, transforming into a shadowy blend of the two opposing forces. The pulsing energy around her shifted, releasing a strange, almost sentient glow a shadowed aura of yellow and black, pulsing in unison like a living heartbeat. The water itself seemed to hold its breath, the once-calm stream now alive with the chaotic interplay of light and shadow.

“…Dark magic,” she whispered, the words escaping her lips like a secret she wasn’t sure she should remember. The phrase felt foreign yet familiar as if echoing from a place buried deep within her memory—a place she hadn’t dared to explore.

Her heart quickened as the words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. She couldn’t recall ever casting dark magic. Could she? The thought stirred unease, her mind racing to piece together fragments of something distant and elusive. Shadows of memory tugged at the edges of her consciousness, tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach.

She stared into the water, her reflection distorted by the rippling current. The face staring back at her felt like a stranger’s, familiar yet shadowed by something unseen.

She needed answers.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Nighttime
Location: Camping event
Mention:
Interactions:@CitrusArms Captain @helo Callum @JJ Doe Riona
Appearance: No shoes|

Dress

m.media-amazon.com/images/I/71RjYAbtk…

Bag

i.pinimg.com/736x/59/0c/06/590c063e41…

Ariella’s expression brightened at Stratya’s warm greeting and the mention of fighting lessons. Her natural curiosity and playfulness were piqued as she looked at the dagger in the Captain's hand, her fingers itching to take it.
“Well, I must confess, Captain, my experience with blades is... minimal at best,” Ariella admitted with a sheepish grin. “Though, I can say with certainty that my embroidery scissors have seen their fair share of battles. Thread, mostly. Vicious stuff.” She let out a light laugh.

Her emerald eyes flicked back to Stratya’s, sparkling with excitement. “But, truly, I’d love to learn. It sounds much more thrilling than discussing trade routes or marriage prospects.” She grimaced at the thought of the latter, then quickly shifted back to her earlier enthusiasm. “If you’re offering lessons, Captain, consider me your most eager—albeit clumsy—student. I promise to be diligent. Mostly.” She grinned

Ariella’s gaze lingered on the dagger once more, her hand hovering near it as if seeking permission. Her eyes lifted from the dagger as she caught a glimpse of Mathias, Cal, Riona, Roman and The Doctor. “ It’s a full house now” she smiled her eyes lighting up.

She turned to listen to the instructions from the camp instructors who interrupted Stratya’s and Ari’s conversation. Her shoulders fell as she let out a sigh, the last thing she attempted to cook she burnt so bad it could have been considered a chunk of coal. Smiling she looked around unsure who her camping partner was but catching a glimpse of Cal’s and Riona’s faces they seemed to pale as if they saw a ghost. Looking concerned she turned back to Stratya “ If you’ll excuse me I’m just going to say hello to Cal” she smiled before skipping off.

“CAL!” she shouted attempting to distract them with a large smile. She reached Cal and Riona’s side “ Are you two alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost” her voice dropped to a whisper.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Nighttime
Location: Camping event
Mention: @Potterkira
Interactions:@CitrusArms Captain
Appearance: No shoes|

Dress

m.media-amazon.com/images/I/71RjYAbtk…

Bag

i.pinimg.com/736x/59/0c/06/590c063e41…

Ariella stepped down from the carriage, her bare feet sinking into the cool, soft earth as she took in the breathtaking campsite with a gleam in her vibrant green eyes. Her long, fiery red hair cascaded down her shoulders in wild curls, almost like flames dancing in the evening light. She adjusted her green corset, her calve-length dress flowing around her legs as she moved with a lightness that came only from the joy of being outdoors. A worn, brown satchel hung at her side, carrying little more than essentials. She hoped she could find more interesting things to bring back to her altar.

The warm glow of lanterns hanging in the trees and the scent of pine and woodsmoke made her feel alive, her pulse quickening with excitement. Every detail felt perfectly crafted, a beautiful blend of comfort and the raw beauty of the wild. Her gaze traveled across the scene to the central fire pit, where the golden light flickered and danced. She felt fully at home here, more so than she had in any ballroom or parlor—this was freedom. Something strange hung in the air though, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it but as she felt the earth under her feet she felt a shift…something changed. She looked down quizzically at the ground. What is that?

The staff greeted everyone with enthusiasm pulling Ari from her thoughts, the redhead woman’s cheerfulness drawing an amused smile from Ariella, and she found herself exchanging an eager wave. There was something special about Pinebrook’s camping event; it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

When the camp staff began organizing tent assignments and hinting at partnered activities, Ariella’s excitement only grew. She felt a surge of anticipation—this night was already turning into the best event she’d attended, a night of wild beauty under the stars, and she was ready to embrace every moment.

She looked around attempting to see anyone she knew. She noted the woman who stood off to the side she didn’t seem too excited staring at her with such a gaze Ariella couldn’t help but nervously smile at her. Attempting to find some kind of excuse to move, she noticed the captain standing off to the side. Skipping excitedly Ariella approached her with a smile nearly ear to ear “ Beautiful night isn’t it!” she said clapping her hands together and resting them against her legs as she swung on her heels slightly “ This should be quite the evening I think. How are you feeling after my brother's party? “