[center][h1][color=ab274f]Wulfric[/color] & [color=93a477]Zarai[/color] Part 2[/h1]
[b]The 23rd of Sola, at night: After the masquerade[/b][/center][hr][hr][center][b][h3][color=FF0000]WARNING:[/color][/h3] The following segment involves Wulfric and Zarai reading a terrible erotica. You have been warned.[/b][/center]

[color=lightgray][color=93a477]"Did you happen to catch a glimpse of Shehzadi Layla this evening? She looked absolutely stunning. It sucks– a shame I couldn't spend more time in her company,"[/color] she sighed with a wistful shake of her head. Zarai imagined how nice it would have been to dance with Layla, perhaps even making the entire dancing thing enjoyable. Her fingers lightly grazed the spines of the books as she casually perused the shelves, in search of nothing in particular.

However, as she neared the end of the row and glanced toward the bottom, her eyes caught sight of a familiar-looking spine. [color=93a477]"Aha!"[/color] she exclaimed, extracting it with an exaggerated and theatrical flourish, nearly causing her wine glass to spill over. [color=93a477]"Well, would you look at this? It still has the bookmark we left! I thought one of the maids might have snatched it up by now."[/color] As she neared the coach again she tossed the book to Wulfric’s lap. 

[color=ab274f]“I have noticed you together. Matching costumes?”[/color] he remarked, curious. He hummed at Zarai’s expression of disappointment. [color=ab274f]“Was there running away involved again?”[/color] he questioned, eyebrow arching at her back. Zarai shrugged, unsure herself. The prospect of running away dwindled by the day.

He lazily watched Zarai browse the shelves, reclining on the couch. As he noticed the book she grabbed, however, he instinctively grimaced at it in distaste. [color=ab274f]“You do have a way of picking them,”[/color] he complained. Even so, he curled his fingers at her, and she threw the book at him. The way Wulfric was looking at it, it might as well have been a bucket-full of vomit which had landed in his lap. [color=ab274f]“Let’s see…”[/color] Carefully, he picked it up, and paged through the first few chapters, seeking where they’d left off.

‘The Master’ was embossed upon the book’s cover in an overly flamboyant golden script. There was a stylized black-and-white sketch within the first few pages. A dashing if generic looking noble, and a woman of presumably Alidasht descent staring at the noble, starstruck. 

Indeed, it was a romance novel. Its summary promised vague hints of tantalizing erotica as well. Yet, so far the book had been…Exceedingly dull and worrying at the same time. In their past readings, they’ve discovered that the male lead - Maximilian ‘Max’ Trevis Le Velin - was a hedonistic, womanizing, irresponsible layabout with a penchant for drugs. [color=ab274f]“Almost as if I were reading about Callum,”[/color] Wulfric had succinctly noted in their first reading session.

The fellow, Maximilian had inherited his family’s county after the unexpected death of his older brother. He had whinged and complained about his ‘unfair’ fate in equal measure as he had expressed resentment and an inferiority complex towards his now deceased brother. The brother whose funeral was approaching, and whose widowed wife the lead was arranged to meet with.

[color=ab274f]“[i]Fuck.[/i] I woke hungover, with the knowledge that Karoline was arriving today. ‘Fuck’, I swore out loud,”[/color] Wulfric began to narrate. Uncomfortably, the book was written from the first person perspective of the sleazy lead. The main character had a propensity for swearing. Presumably, it was meant to be liberating, yet Wulfric found it thoroughly dull due to the sheer repetition. Too, it made the man sound like a neanderthal. 

[color=ab274f]“My stumbling steps carried me across the cool wooden paneling. I clutched a hand to my head, wincing in pain at the sharp headache. My string of sotto voiced curses was interrupted by a loud yell, startled from me as I hit my toe against a desk corner. ‘Fuck!’ I glared at the dim surroundings through half-opened lids, yet I didn’t dare risk lighting a lamp. I didn’t want my pain to get any worse…”[/color] he forged on. The text was chock-full of everyday minutiae, at times described in exceeding, exhausting detail.

After a chapter, the widow, Karoline, was introduced. [color=ab274f]“I met her on the doorstep. I wanted to be the one leading the conversation, but I gave myself away the moment I saw her. I gasped, my breath stolen away by the sight of her. I had nearly forgotten what a stunning woman she was. A perfect face framed by riotous blonde curls. Full lips slightly opened, pouting at me invitingly. Even with tears brimming on her lids, dried tracks of past sorrow visible under her red-rimmed gaze, she was beautiful. Made even more beautiful in mourning, I speculated. Her bright hazel eyes blinked at me, long lashes granting wet kisses upon her cheeks with each feather-light flutter. She heaved an anguished breath, ripe breasts the size of melons bouncing into my view. I was aroused.”[/color]

He had read all of that smoothly, his skills of rhetoric arguably the one thing that made the book somewhat bearable. But at that last bit he paused. [color=ab274f]“[i]Aroused,[/i]”[/color] he repeated, incredulous as he was aghast.

He put the book down, picked up his previously abandoned glass, and drank from it deeply.

Laughter erupted from Zarai, unable to contain herself from Wulfric’s reaction. [color=93a477]“Aroused,”[/color] she drawled as she took the wine bottle and traded it with the book. 

[color=93a477]“Why is it always melons? Why can’t they be… I don’t know, coconuts, pineapples, or watermelons? Gods, why is it always fruits anyway… at least they didn’t write ‘mountains’ or ‘mounds’.”[/color] She shifted in her seat, reclined against the back of the couch, and cleared her throat, ready to continue reading.

Wulfric shrugged. [color=ab274f]“Because women are made of ‘sugar, spice, and everything nice’?”[/color] he quoted. He snorted at her suggestions. [color=ab274f]“At least it wasn’t ‘fearful virginal breasts’ or ‘shy peaks rising to greet me’ or ‘perky peaches anointed in the holy redolence of our lustful exertions’,”[/color] he drawled, reminiscing on some of the more…memorable pieces of texts they’d read in the past.

[color=93a477]“‘Karoline,’ I said softly, stepping ever so closely to her. The temptation to press myself against her soft curves clawed at me from the inside, so much so I could have given into desire at any moment. ‘I am so sorry for your loss.’ She looked up at me, her eyes now brimming with tears that made them glisten in the sunlight. So captivatingly stunning. In that instant, our gazes locked, and I saw a flicker of something in her eyes, a spark of longing that mirrored my own. I wanted nothing more but to comfort her, to hold her in my arms and make her forget all of the pain.”[/color] Zarai scrunched her nose and continued.

[color=93a477]“‘Max,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her tears–’ Huh? How does one ever hear tears?”[/color] She re-read the same line two more times but trying to figure it out would be a wasted effort and decided to go along with it, [color=93a477]“Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek, my fingertips lingering on her hot soft skin. I could feel the heat between us, the unspoken desire that hung in the air like a tangible thing, swirling around us in a heady mix of grief and passion … This guy might be delusional.”[/color] 

[color=ab274f]“Hmm,”[/color] he agreed with a hum, and accepted the book as she passed it over. [color=ab274f]“Her amber orbs caught the light, shining with a familiar lust. She’d always known how to attract a man, and had played around with more than I care to know, [i]the little slut.[/i]”[/color] Wulfric gave the book, then Zarai a look. [color=ab274f]“Now that’s a tone shift,”[/color] he commented, then went back to reading. [color=ab274f]“I could give her what she wanted, but I had to stay strong. It was too painful, being reminded of my brother, of how she’d left me for him - for his money.”[/color] He paused. [color=ab274f]“Huh.”[/color] He poured himself another glass to sip at, but didn’t comment further.

What followed were several pages describing how oh so holier-than-thou Maximillian was for not succumbing to ‘the wiles of a devil woman’. It was mind-numbingly boring, but there was finally another scene to break up the monotony.

[color=ab274f]“She strolled out of the bathroom, only my thin, oversized, silken bathrobe hugging her body. She was all wet,”[/color] Wulfric snorted lightly, [color=ab274f]“so I could see more than I should have. [i]Fuck![/i] I was sure she had to know, though, so maybe I was seeing exactly as much as she wanted me to. Her hair was dripping water onto the floor, enticing–”[/color] he tilted his head, bemused. 

[color=ab274f]“Water puddles on the floor are enticing?”[/color] he interjected. With a shake of his head, he read on. [color=ab274f]“–enticing me to go over to her. I reached out, brushing her sopping hair. ‘You’re wet,’ I rumbled. I was eager to explore [i]down there[/i], to check if her [i]lower parts[/i] were the same. But I had to show restraint,”[/color] there was another eyeroll. [color=ab274f]“‘I’ll fetch a towel for you.’ She stopped me with a hand on my arm. ‘Max, please,’ she whimpered, pressing herself against me. She was breathy, damp, and warm. It was like I was lost in a tropical marsh.”[/color] He couldn’t believe that was an actual line he’d read. [color=ab274f]“Lost. I was lost. Fuck! It was my loss. I gave in to her. 

We spent the night together.”[/color]

He turned the page. There was a mark for a new chapter. That was it for the ‘sex scene’. [color=ab274f]“Is this a joke? Where is the eros in this so-called erotica?”[/color] He closed the book, and discarded it onto the couch. He glanced at his glass, but left it alone where he’d last put it. He had had enough alcohol for today. [color=ab274f]“Can we please burn the damn book now?”[/color] he turned to Zarai. However, he already knew that she’d want to read the trainwreck to the end. But they’d have to postpone the rest until the next reading session. 

[color=93a477]“No way we are burning it without getting to the end! It’s already so bad, it can’t possibly get any worse.”[/color] But it most likely would; most, if not all, of the books they’ve read of that genre usually did. Zarai simply had to know how bad it could get.

[color=93a477]“Do you think the writer hasn’t loved before? Is that why there is no actual love in their book? Probably some ugly-looking man in his fifties writing out his fantasies. Oh! What if it’s a nun writing the books? Someone bound to the life of celibacy?”[/color] Zarai suddenly sat up, gasping at her revelation. [color=93a477]“It would make sense; they’d be super pent up if that were the case, and no one that pent up would care if there was some actual eros in their erotica.”[/color] 

Wulfric slowly nodded as he thought about it. [color=ab274f]“I bet it’s a woman. Men don’t usually value male abstinence.”[/color] He gave in, and allowed himself one final drink. Though, he mostly nursed the glass without drinking much from it. [color=ab274f]“A nun [i]would[/i] make sense,”[/color] he agreed with a smirk. From somewhere within his coat, he withdrew a pocket watch. [color=ab274f]“It’s late,”[/color] he remarked. [color=ab274f]“Can you stand up and walk on your own?”[/color] he asked, because Zarai had drunk far, far more than he had.

Zarai hummed, looked at Wulfric, and nodded. [color=93a477]“I can stand, don’t you worry about me.”[/color] She stood, just to prove to him she was fine. How could she not be? Zarai could hold her alcohol as well as any sailor could. She easily stood up, but took a second to orient herself before walking a small circle around the room. [color=93a477]“What I told you, huh?”[/color] She grinned and began to wave off the prince. 

The royal stood up slowly, ready to leave, but then Zarai practically collapsed onto the sofa.

Her world began spinning like she'd just gotten off a merry-go-round that had been spinning for an hour. [color=93a477]“I take that back,”[/color] Zarai took a few seconds to swallow back the nausea that threatened to bring back all the crab legs she had managed to eat with Layla. [color=93a477]“Just give me a second. I can do it. Or you know what, you can leave me here. Yes, this couch is very comfortable.”[/color] Zarai laid back, draping one arm over her eyes and the other over her stomach. [color=93a477]“You don’t need me to walk you back to the castle, right? The prince is all good, yes? Yes. Wulfy is always all good. Oh fuu– I’m going to be sick.”[/color] She swallowed again, trying to steady herself. [color=93a477]“No, no. I’m fine. You go.”[/color] She waved him off. [color=93a477]“Go on, I’ll see you tomorrow. Or the next day, or the next next one.”[/color] In truth, she wanted Wulfric gone so she could enjoy a nice long cry by herself.

[color=ab274f]“I am not the one who requires an escort,”[/color] Wulfric pointed out. He gathered the glasses and bottle and deposited them near the alcohol cabinet. [color=ab274f]“I cannot possibly leave you [i]in the drawing room[/i],”[/color] he stated. He felt languid, relaxed, and overly warm. He was in no rush to leave either. However, as soon as she mentioned being sick, he jumped into action. [color=ab274f]“Whoa, whoa! Just — hang in there, Zarai,”[/color] he spoke in a rush. He nearly dashed out into the hallway, called on a servant, and ordered [color=ab274f]“whatever’s useful for someone who’s about to be sick”.[/color] While they were both waiting, he paced around the room, keeping a careful eye on her. Then there was a knock.

Relieved Zarai hadn’t vomited onto the floor yet, he opened the doors and retrieved the items from a servant. He first carried in the empty bucket, placing it next to Zarai. [color=ab274f]“Vomit there if you must,”[/color] he told her. Then he brought in the rest; a tray which bore a bowl of hot water, a towel, a tea cup and a pot of chamomile tea, and some powdered medicine. Once done, he promptly dismissed the servant and closed the door. 
[color=ab274f]“...Are you going to vomit?”[/color] he questioned cautiously. [color=ab274f]“If not, there’s some tea you could drink,”[/color] he offered.

 [color=93a477]“No. Yes? … I don’t know.”[/color] Zarai remained in place, a mix of nausea and regret swirling within her. She didn’t want to ruin her dress with the remnants of the crab legs and alcohol. The regret over the drinking game was growing with every passing moment as she found herself blaming Peter. Zarai knew it wasn’t his fault, but shifting the blame to him momentarily gave her a sense of control in her drunken state. 

As Wulfric ignored her and offered his assistance, she lowered her arm to watch him with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. [color=93a477]“Look at you being all sweet,”[/color] she couldn’t help but tease, though she knew his actions probably stemmed from a sense of responsibility. When the tea was offered, she sniffed it, and when no wave of nausea hit her, she sipped from it. Alongside chamomile tea, the prince fed her anti-nausea medicine too.

After she had finished her tea, she looked up to Wulfric, offering a small smile. [color=93a477]“Thank you.”[/color] She stared back down at the floor, fighting the stinging in her nose. Zarai would not cry in front of Wulfric. [color=93a477]“I should get going; I wouldn’t want Mother to barge in and—”[/color] She shook her head, standing up—this time a lot slower. 

Wulfric stood up as well, having crouched down next to the couch to help Zarai drink the tea. He set the tea cup aside, and approached her, holding out an arm for her. [color=ab274f]“Let me escort you to your room.”[/color] Speaking of escorts… [color=ab274f]“Where is that knight of yours, anyhow?”[/color] he questioned. [color=ab274f]“Do you have a lady-in-waiting? Maids? Or do I have to assign you some of ours?”[/color] In the state she was in, she’d need the help.

[color=93a477]“I escaped Sir Barrios after he kidnapped me from a very lovely lady.”[/color] Zarai took the offered arm, very much grateful for the added support. The floor felt like it would give out under her with one wrong step. [color=93a477]“He must be looking for me if we haven’t heard my mother stomping around the halls screaming,”[/color] she joked weakly, trying to lighten the mood. Her room wasn’t too far, and for that she was glad. Zarai would rather spare Wulfric another panic of seeing her cry. He’d think of her as considerate if he only knew. [color=93a477]“It’s all good, one set of eyes keeping track of me is enough. Besides, it would be harder to slip away with another set.”[/color] 

The prince sighed as he opened the doors leading to her room. [color=ab274f]“Don’t make his work harder than it needs to be,”[/color] he chastised lightly. Wulfric helped her to her bed, but for propriety’s sake, he did not linger in her room once she was safely seated. [color=ab274f]“Someone will come check in on you in about an hour, and once in the morning,”[/color] he informed her from the doorway. [color=ab274f]“Have a good night.”[/color] Before she could protest at the idea of servants being ordered to look after her, Wulfric closed the door, leaving her to her solitude. 

[color=93a477]"Thank you,"[/color]  she whispered, though she doubted he heard her. Now, finally, alone in her chambers, Zarai sought solace in the confines of her room. She climbed into one of the large, ornate wooden wardrobes, surrounded by skirts, dresses, and blouses. Nestled among the fabrics, she allowed her tears to flow freely, the clothes muffling every one of her sobs.[/color]