PapaOso

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

NPC used: Count Gustav Hansen from Varian Kingdom

Dear “Gorgeous” Gustav,

Apologies, my friend. It’s been at least a month since I’ve written, and I know how you enjoy these little missives. For me to make a Count as “prestigious” as you wait for such things should surely be a crime. How dare I keep you on the edge of your seat wondering when my next letter will arrive. But maybe a little patience could do you good, G.

I jest, but I do hope you know that I have wanted to write, and that you have been on my mind quite a few times lately. Especially this last week. You see, things are very different these days, my friend. So much so that I fear you will think me a liar by the end of this letter. But you know me, and I only lie when I’m paid to. Though I am damn good at it, aren't I?

The truth though, is that my life looks nothing like it did last we spoke. For starters, my mother passed away. I know when I was there with you last year I told you I was going home to visit her, but I never did. I ended up taking another contract before I could even leave Stravinsky. A man just outside of Elso was trying to find the people that took his wife. Turned out to be a real shit show. As unlike me as it is, I even had to reach out for a little help on this one. The woman wasn’t just taken, she was one of thirteen that had been grabbed off the streets for some fucked up trafficking operation that ended up having ties to the Ruvani family. You may have heard about it. We saved nine. The others, we just weren’t quick enough.

I could’ve gone back home then, spent a little time with my mother. She had been writing less often. I could tell she was getting worse. I should have gone, but I didn’t. Gustav, I couldn’t. Another job came my way and I told myself I had to do it. I told myself that no one could get it done like me. I wrote her a letter saying I would visit soon, that I just needed to clear one more job.

I should have gone home.

That contract had me on the front lines of a trade dispute gone bad between a couple merchant cunts that both pulled together enough sellswords to topple a kingdom. So much blood spilled in the names of those elitist dicks (no offense) that by the end I just wanted to go home, G.

The more I climbed the ladder, the less the Wolves felt like home to me. They wanted me to lead, but I was already losing my love for it. There’s more to that story, but I’ll save that for another day. I’m rambling enough as it is.

When that letter came in telling me that she was gone, I didn’t even cry. Not at first. Something just broke. It still is, I think. Doesn’t feel real if I’m being honest. Especially now. Things feel more like a fever dream than they ever have. Turns out in my own way I’m an elitist dick just like you and those merchants. My mother’s revealed the truth about my father. I think I told you the story she had spun me when I was young. Well, she left out a few key details. This, G, this is the part where you’re gonna think I’m lying.

I’m in Sorian visiting my father. He’s a Count just like you, buddy. You’re officially reading the words of Calbert Damien’s bastard son. Yeah, THE Calbert Damien. I have every confidence that you know that name. I told you, you’re sitting right there swearing to yourself that I must be lying. Part of me, though I don’t know why, wishes I was lying. However, this is my new reality.

Here I am, moments away from getting dressed for a fucking masquerade. I bet you’re smiling at the thought. I bet you’re picturing how incredible I would look all done up in clothing fit for nobility. You’re probably even drooling at the thought of how good my ass looks in these tailored pants. You’re not wrong, it looks absolutely perfect.

I miss you G.

Somehow, I feel like things would make more sense if you were here. But more than anything, I wish I could drink a fucking barrel of that mead you had last year. Don’t get me wrong, this Caesonian wine is special, but that mead was the nectar of the gods themselves. Imagine you and I taking the dance floor together. Me in this ever so dramatic wolf mask that the good Count himself had commissioned jussssst for little ol’ me, and you in…whatever pretentious, sexy bullshit you would certainly show up in. We’d undoubtedly be the talk of Sorian. But, alas my friend, you’re in that frozen shitbag Svenborg, and I’m here eating grapes and tasting all the beauty that an actual civilized place has to offer. Guess I’ll just have to find another way to take this place by storm. You know I will...I always do.

Write me back you beautiful bitch.

Send mead,

Cassius “Damien” Vael

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

“Mr. Sunshine” Milo St. Claire

⛮ Milo St. Claire ⛮

⛮ Appearance ⛮

⛮ Height: 6’ 2”

⛮ Age: 28

⛮ Weight: 180 lbs

⛮ Eye Color: Hazel, holding an inviting gaze that presents kindness and welcomes vulnerability.

⛮ Hair Length/Texture: Neatly styled and voluminous with waves that add to his sophisticated look.

⛮ Hair Color: Blonde

⛮ Skin Color: Warm, medium beige with a fair undertone.

⛮ Facial details: A chiseled jawline and high cheekbones, which accentuate the structure of his face. A straight, well-defined nose and full lips, with the lower lip being slightly fuller than the upper lip, conveying a subtle sensuality. Deep-set, almond-shaped hazel eyes which are expressive and carry a kind and gentle gaze. He often sports a slight stubble that gives him a rugged yet refined charm.

⛮ Distinguishing features: Inviting aura, captivating smile

⛮ Clothing Preferences: He only dresses in the finest clothing, the glitz and glamor of his ensemble becoming the highlights to the piece of art that is Mr. St. Claire.

⛮ Psychology ⛮

⛮ Likes: Art, inspiration, admiration, tidiness, keeping his body in pique physical condition, making people smile, intimate conversations, and elegant gatherings.

⛮ Dislikes: Banality, ignorance, rudeness, prying eyes, filth, apathy, and people without passion.

⛮ Sexuality: Bisexual

⛮ Hobbies: Painting (specializing in portraits and erotica), sculpting, firearms, cartography, attending social events, indulging in cultural activities, spreading the beauty of art far and wide.

⛮ Life Goals/Dreams: To become the most renowned artist of all time.

⛮ Personality Summary:
Milo is charming and carries himself with a warm demeanor that draws people to him like bees to a blossoming flower. So much so, that the newspapers began referring to him as “Mr. Sunshine”, a nickname that has stuck around despite Milo personally thinking it’s a bit silly. He has been described as eccentric, but mostly it’s his kindness and endearing quirks that bring most to say that he’s a delight to be around.

Despite what the press might say, Milo isn’t always the perfect ray of sunshine he’s painted to be by those that adore him. He has certain eccentricities that come with the territory of being someone so dedicated to their art. He occasionally works strange hours, allowing his muse to guide him in ways that others might find strange. He has been known to isolate when inspiration hits so that he can work on a project for days or even weeks at a time, barely sleeping and only stopping to take care of his physical needs until the piece is finished.

He has certain rituals that he feels compelled to do when he’s not swept up in the throes of his inspiration, such as his daily personal grooming routine where he sees the way he presents him just as much a piece of his art as any of his portraits and sculptures. He treats his body and physical conditioning with the same care, making sure to stay disciplined with his strict (almost extremely so) workouts to make sure that every inch of his body is as athletic, beautiful, and aesthetically pleasing as possible.

Milo can be a bit of a neat freak when it comes to most things, always making sure that every stray splatter of paint or spot of clay is scrubbed from his skin and washed completely from his clothing before leaving his abode.

He has also been known to get defensive when art that he is particularly passionate about is criticized. As someone who puts his heart and soul into each piece, he definitely finds it difficult to detach when dealing with the opinions of others.

⛮ Background ⛮

⛮ Current occupation: As a renowned portrait artist, Milo has built a reputation for himself as one of the most sought-after talents in all the realm.

⛮ Any past occupations?: Unknown

⛮ Relatives: Unknown, but he does have a few retainers in his entourage.

Melburn, His Trusty Carriage Driver

Erkia Sharpe, His Unassuming & Beautiful Hired Protector

Mr. Duval, Milo’s Personal Assistant & Publicist

Quinn, Sommelier Extraordinaire

Athena & Atlas, His Apprentices

⛮ Skills: Painting, sculpting, interior design, firearms, cartography, gourmet cooking, and he seems to have an unnatural luck when it comes to games of chance.

⛮ History Summary:
Milo St. Claire's history is shrouded in mystery, with little known about his early life before he emerged onto the art scene a little less than a decade ago. Despite the lack of information about his upbringing or family background, Milo's meteoric rise to prominence within the artistic community is undeniable. Seemingly out of nowhere, he burst onto the scene with his remarkable talent for capturing the essence of his subjects in breathtaking portraits and sculptures; the papers referring to him as a true overnight success story.

From the moment he first showcased his work, Milo's artistry garnered immediate acclaim, captivating nobility and wealthy patrons alike. His ability to breathe life into his creations, combined with his enigmatic and delightful persona, left an indelible mark on all who encountered his art.

Year by year, Milo's renown only continued to grow, as his captivating pieces found their way into the homes and galleries of the elite.

Despite his swift ascent to fame, Milo remains notoriously private about his personal life, keeping the details of his early years closely guarded. Speculation runs rampant about his origins as well as his love life…and yet, it is that air of mystery that only serves to fuel the allure and intrigue that surrounds Milo St. Claire. His arrival in Sorian has been recently expected and widely anticipated.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Cassius & Fritz

---

“Hello there,” the whisper sounded so close to him, but when Cassius turned around, the raven-haired man was a good few feet away. “I’ve come to take you up on that offer.”

Cassius had been in his own world at the wine table, but he immediately recognized the voice. A curious smile curled across his devilishly handsome face as he turned to the man, ever so slightly perplexed as to why he sounded much closer than he actually was. The introspective demeanor he found himself in after his dance with Charlotte shifted into his usual, enchanting disposition with simple flip of a switch. “I knew you would come…” He confessed, his words coated with a sultry layer of charm. He closed the distance between them with a poised stride. “How could you possibly resist?”

“And risk losing the opportunity to better know you?” Leaning closer, he breathed the words, “Perish the thought.” As the count pulled away, he gave the lord a coquettish smile. “I am but a moth to a flame. And you shine ever so bright, my lord.”

Ryn chuckled, before asking, “So! What shall it be?” One hand rose, poised, ready to receive a partner’s hand for a dance. “May I have the honor of being swept from my feet by the dazzling Lord Damien himself? Or…” A bottle of deep red materialized in his other hand, called forth by a dexterous flourish. “Can I tempt Mr. Vael into sharing this lovely vintage with me?”

The smile, the subtle differences in demeanor…these things proved fascinating to Cassius; fascinating and enticing both. As he looked at Fritz with ardent eyes, he began to slowly circle the man with graceful steps. He considered the two options before him for a moment as he slowly moved closer to the one seeking his company.

Cas had already experienced the dance for the evening, so it was the impressive way in which Fritz presented the bottle out of nowhere that truly won his interest.
”It takes quite the adventurous moth to seek out light this bright…but we all know what happens to such a creature when it touches the flames.” Cassius spoke with angelic resonance, his practiced tongue as alluring and dangerous as ever. "Let's see how close we can get without you getting burned." His hand wrapped around the bottle in Fritz’s grasp, seemingly giving the handsome man his answer.

The count drew nearer to Lord Damien, close enough that the heat of his breath brushed against skin. “Very.” Then he withdrew, wine glasses now glimmering in each hand. Ryn asked cheerfully, “Would you like to drink here or take a seat somewhere?”

He met Fritz’s move with an impressed smile. It was fun to watch them weave their charm in a way that mirrored his own. There was something about the man that made it challenging to get a proper read on him, but that only made the prospect of spending a little bit of time with him one on one all the more enticing to Cassius.

“Would you prefer if I take a drink of you here or somewhere else, hmm?” Cassius’s eyes sparkled with mischief as a playful smirk tugged at his lips, “ I must say, indulging in such a public display might spark a scandal, don’t you think?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. After a theatrical pause, his eyes widened with feigned innocence. “Oh of course… You meant the wine. Well.” A devilish grin painted his features as he spoke with some debonair flair. “I suppose the balcony will do in any case.”

Cassius then drew in just as close as Fritz had. “Never know where the night may take us.”

The lord’s feigned innocence, however, was met with an authentic one.

Ryn canted his head, perplexed by why drinking in the ballroom might “spark a scandal” until Lord Damien murmured the words “Never know where the night may take us.”

A surprised peal of laughter burst from him, as bright and effervescent as the bubbles in a glass of champagne. “Obviously I have much to learn from the master of seduction.”

Threading his arm through the lord’s, he steered them towards the doors leading to the balcony. “Quick, before everyone discovers I’m not nearly as suave as I pretend to be!”

Once they stepped into the night air, Ryn disentangled himself. “Now that I have you all to myself…” He put a careful distance between their bodies so that Lord Damien would not feel obligated to keep up with his flirtations. “You can relax now.”

Cas found himself grinning with fascination as Fritz dropped his little charade. Was he right in his previous assessment? Was his new acquaintance simply mirroring his own personality back to him? It didn’t matter to be honest, this little twist only made Cassius more curious than before. He walked to the railing at the edge of the balcony, leaning against it and looking out into the night. After another of his wonderfully dramatic pauses, he spoke.

“Oh, my dear Fritz…there is no need to play games with my humble, innocent heart like this.” The words came out impishly, with a hint of mischief behind them. “I am a man of business just as much as I am one of pleasure…If you wished to speak with me all you needed to do…was ask.” Giving the man a playful wink, he took the wine glasses from him and poured the two of them a drink before speaking once more. “Brilliant deception, though. I must say, it almost felt like I was talking to myself. But…alas…what is it that you actually desire from a man like me?”

“Trick you? I thought I was straightforward about wanting to get to know you better… I apologize if I misled you in some way.”

Ryn accepted the drink with a thank you. “I wasn’t sure how comfortable you actually were in there.” He turned his head to the doors that separated the two from the fanciful life of high society. “A drastic change in lifestyle can be overwhelming to some people. How are you holding up Mr. Vael?... Or do you prefer Lord Damien?”

Cassius simply nodded in response to Fritz's explanation, still a bit unsure of the man’s tactics. Taking a long sip of the wine, he let the liquid dance across his palate, unraveling a symphony of flavors on his tongue. The rich, velvety texture enveloped his senses like a warm embrace, while notes of dark berries and hints of oak whispered tales of distant vineyards. With closed eyes, he savored the intricate balance between sweetness and tannins, feeling the wine's essence linger on his tongue like a memory.

“You have good taste in wine.” He stated as a playful deflection before responding to the man’s final query first. “As for what to call me, that’s a good question…Cassius always has the perfect ring to it, but I can’t deny that I’m growing quite fond of the title Lord.” His words were still coated with the same flirtatious charm as before. “Call me whatever you wish, and deception or not…I can assure you that very few people in this world have what it takes to make me feel uncomfortable. Regardless, now you have me here on my lonesome. It’s just you and I, lover boy. My undivided attention is yours.”

“Then let’s go with the best of both worlds, Lord Cassius.”

Ryn swirled the deep crimson wine in his glass, watching the liquid catch the light as he leaned against the ornate balustrade. “You’ve got a hardier constitution than I, it seems. High society can be…” He paused, his lips quirking wryly, “brutally unwelcoming at times.”

Cassius raised a glass in agreement, an accordant smile teasing the edges of his mouth

Black eyes glanced sidelong at Lord Damien, studying the other man’s profile intently before drifting down to linger on the other man’s hands. A person’s hands could often reveal the stories of their life. “What was your life like before all of this?” he asked simply.

Letting the man’s question linger in the air in a similar fashion to how the wine’s resonance remained on his tongue, Cas mulled over the array of possible answers. He turned to bring his eyes up to meet Fritz once more as he spoke ”That depends entirely on how much time we have and the tone of conversation you’re in the mood to explore, friend.” There was a facetious nature to his words though his eyes held nothing but authenticity.

“I’ll leave the choice to you.” Whatever Lord Damien was willing to offer, Ryn would accept.

”As arrogant as it sounds, the truth is I’ve lived more life in my twenty seven years than most of the men and women that surrounded us in that ballroom could ever dream of…I could go on for hours about the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done. But to narrow it down to its most pragmatic state, I have chased beauty and conflict all across Eromora. I have found glory, praise, infamy, and unfathomable pleasures along the way.”

Stopping for a moment, Cassius stared into the beautiful black voids that were the eyes of his new acquaintance as he pondered his next words carefully. And now…now I find myself engaged in a brand new hunt. One where perhaps I don’t even know what it is I’m looking for.” He raised his glass once more, this time with a wink. ”Or, perhaps I know exactly what it is I’m chasing…Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

“I guess we’ll have to.” Ryn’s lips curved in a faint, contemplative smile. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“In the meantime… Let’s entertain a game of sorts—a trade of questions, an exchange of stories.”

“Sounds like fun…” Cassius remarked eagerly. “But allow me to add a little twist to make things even more interesting. Everything, and I mean everything, is on the table. If you answer, you must be one hundred percent honest. If the question is too much, or if you’re not comfortable answering…you simply take a drink.” He raised his glass to his lips and sipped before beginning.

“Since you just asked, I’ll do the honor of starting us off properly. First question…Why did you come here to Sorian? Question two…What do you dream about at night when there’s no one around to influence your thoughts and it’s just you and the deep recesses of your mind?”

“Oh my,” The count’s teasing held the same flirtatious undertone Lord Damien had moments ago. “Going in hard without build-up, no turn-taking, and you only have two questions for me? Lord Cassius…” He tsked and shook his head in mock disapproval. “But, if that’s how you prefer to play…”

With a satirical roll of the eyes, Cassius shook his head proudly at Fritz’s clever little jest, his smile only growing as the man continued.

He upended his untouched glass into Lord Damien’s cup. A brazen breach of etiquette, but he did not want to waste perfectly good wine by pouring it off the balcony, and it carried a pointed message: he would not need to drink for this game.

Though Lord Damien must have been aware of the loophole in the rules he proposed. “I came here for many reasons. As a newly titled noble, I was invited to the annual gathering.” True. “Since there was no reason not to attend, and I wanted to make connections, I came.” Also true. Ryn leaned in conspiratorially, as if he was revealing a dark secret, “I’m hoping to make lots of friends.” Another truth.

All individually true, one hundred percent honest answers. But none revealed the whole truth.

“I’m also looking for the answer to a question,” he added nonchalantly at the end.

Cassius acknowledged his new confidant’s clever little statement with the wine by emptying the contents of his glass with one long drink as Fritz spoke, showing that he was not going to need the generously strategic reprieve from potentially difficult questions either. His eyes never broke from the man’s face as Fritz addressed his first question.

The answer to Lord Damien’s second question was quite dull. “This is going to sound boring, but… Nothing. I don’t dream. I haven’t had a dream in a very long time.”

Fritz’s statement knocked free an old quote from the recesses of Cas’s mind. ’A man who cannot dream is a slave to his own reality’. Cas wondered if Fritz had forgotten how to dream, or if he was actually evading the specters and dreads of nightmares. Either way, the thought intrigued him to no end.

“Let’s see, so two deep, hard-hitting questions.” Ryn mulled over some potential questions to ask. “What have you done in the past that haunts you to this very day?”

“Oh…my dear, handsome man. And you have the audacity to suggest that I was skipping the foreplay?” Cassius prodded with a playful level of tongue-in-cheek. “Here you are building straight for a proper crescendo. It’s a bold move and I must admit…I absolutely love it.” His amused smile soon turned slightly more dreary as his mind turned to addressing the man’s question. He leaned on the balcony himself, looking out over the night as he contemplated his truth.

“Where do I even begin?” He asked, partially in jest yet more honest than he would like to admit. “I was a mercenary for almost half my life, Fritz. To live by the sword, chasing gold and glory…There is an abundance of skeletons in my closet that come to haunt my moments of peace.” Cas pondered something more specific, wishing to honor the spirit of the game they were playing.

“For instance…the very first man I killed. I never even got his name, but the look on his face as he succumbed to my blade, and the sanguine warmth of his blood on my hands are sensations burned into my very being.” His eyes shifted to meet Fritz’s, a look of absolute stoicism displayed on his face. “By my count, you have another question. I am an open book…simply pick a chapter.”

Even with the mask obscuring his features, Ryn could sense how Lord Damien’s countenance hardened into one of stoicism. It was a mask not meant to conceal so much as to compartmentalize and shield oneself from feeling the weight of the truth.

Just as Ryn had learned to do himself.

From the bleakest depths of human depravity to nature’s most savage, uncaring devastation, Ryn had witnessed and endured more than enough to intimately know the myriad ways in which a person could be broken.

Through it all, he had learned the art of disassociation, to erect walls around his psyche, fortifying his mind against the horrors and desolation that sought to invade and corrupt. It was a necessary defense, a survival mechanism, lest his soul be lost forever.

Tempted as he was to ask a follow-up question, if there were to only be two questions, Ryn wanted to end on a more positive one. “What brings you happiness?”

Cassius paused, his eyes wandering over Fritz's face for a moment. The question seemed to hang in the air, mingling with the faint breeze rustling the leaves overhead.

"What makes me happy?" Cassius repeated, his voice low and thoughtful. His lips curved into a faint smile as he searched for an answer. A moment passed before his gaze drifted to the skyline, drawn to a distant point in the cityscape. A faint green light blinked on the horizon, barely visible against the backdrop of the evening. It was something that was almost inconspicuous enough to just blend into the night, except to Cassius…to any Iron Wolf, it was anything but subtle.

His mind raced with questions that felt all too soon to be asking. Were they here for him? Should he answer the call? Who could possibly be on the other side of the distress beacon? There was only one way to find out.

The realization that he had left Fritz unanswered hit suddenly as he turned to face him. “It’s not my style to leave before a good climax…but I admit, something has come up. I’ll give you a much better answer next time, handsome. I do expect there to be a next time, yes?” He asked with thirsty eyes.

“But until then…I’ll give you just a little tease. What could possibly make a man like me happy? Perhaps everything…or…perhaps not a damned thing at all.” Cas said slyly, giving Fritz a playful bow and one last signature smile before making his leave.

Ryn met the farewell with a curtsy, then turned to face the distant sky. The soft flutter of wings and the clicking of talons reached his ears before he shifted his attention to the nightjar that had alighted on the top rail of the balustrade. They exchanged a silent, weighted look, and then the nightjar took to the skies, vanishing into the horizon. Ryn remained alone on the balcony save for the silent, watchful presence of an owl perched in a nearby tree. The bird of prey’s unblinking stare fixed upon the window of the estate.

TL;DR

Fritz approaches Cassius and offers to take him up on the dance they spoke about earlier. Instead, the two head out on a private balcony for a drink. Flirtation and mutual admiration is shared between them as they get to know one another a little more with a game of hard hitting questions. However, the game is interrupted as Cassius notices something in the distance that pulls him away prematurely.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Cassius & Charlotte

---

As Cassius meandered through the ballroom, his gaze swept over the myriad of masked faces. He was searching…seeking something, anything to pique his interest. For all the amusement he had experienced so far this evening, he was beginning to grow restless.

He watched as the guests mingled, their laughter and chatter creating a backdrop of joviality that seemed worlds apart from the boredom brewing within him. He was unsure why he felt so disinterested when normally he would be reveling in such an atmosphere. Perhaps the source of this restlessness stemmed from the fact that subconsciously he was looking for something…someone in particular. His eyes flitted from one masquerade guest to the next, his mind churning with subtle anticipation.

Where was she?

There, by the edge of the dance floor, he spotted her just as she was stepping back into the ballroom…Almost divergent amidst the bustling crowd. Charlotte’s demeanor was tense, her eyes clouded with an emotion he couldn't quite decipher just yet. Despite the delicate butterfly mask adorning her face, he could see the turmoil etched in the lines of her expression.

A frown tugged at the corners of his own lips as he observed her from afar. What could possibly trouble her in a place filled with such merriment? What could have happened in the moments that passed since she ventured off on her own to leave her in such a state. The question gnawed at him, urging him forward…compelling him to move towards her.

With each step he took his stride was purposeful, his gaze fixed on Charlotte as he watched the subtleties of her beginning to fall apart..

As he drew nearer, he noticed the tears glistening in the corners of her eyes and the tremble of her lips as she struggled to contain the storm raging within her. His heart clenched at the sight as a familiar feeling coursed through him.

The emotion was akin to what had stirred within him when he witnessed Layla berate her at the beach. He couldn't help but continue to move towards her, his feet almost having a mind of their own as he was inexplicably drawn in her direction. His pace quickened as she grew closer and closer to losing herself to the panic.

Once he finished closing the distance, there was zero hesitation. He reached out to gently grasp her trembling hand in his. He could feel the warmth of Charlotte’s skin beneath his touch, the faint flutter of her pulse against his fingertips. It only served to deepen his resolve, building the urge to be the anchor she needed at that moment.

Taking but an instant to let her tear-filled gaze find his face, Cassius wore his most comforting and genuine smile that hid quite a bit of the concern in his eyes, but not all. Her frightened gaze betrayed her surprise. He was the last person she had expected to see at that moment.

However, before she could react…before the panic could consume her entirely, Cassius swept Charlotte into his arms in one fluid movement as he led her onto the dancefloor just as the music began to swell into a graceful waltz. He let his steps direct her with the skill of a practiced dancer, something that would certainly be unexpected of him.

He held her close against him as he guided her body in the waltz, allowing her to focus solely on overcoming the panic. Years of dance practice gave Charlotte enough muscle memory to keep up her footing even as she fell apart.

“You’re alright, Lottie, I have you….” Cassius stated calmly.

Her eyes widened as they met his.

“Don’t let it win. Ignore it all for a moment and just breathe. Focus on the sound of my heartbeat until the panic leaves you. “

Desperate gasps escaped her lips, each inhalation sharp and ragged, her body trembling with the effort of trying to regain control, but she did just as he asked, unable to process another way. Resting her head wearily against his chest, Charlotte listened to the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat, its rapid tempo mirroring her own as sobs occasionally wracked her body.

His heart seemed to beat against his ribs with a fervent urgency, as if it were trying to break free from its confines. The slow waltz and the noise of the crowd faded into a distant murmur, their presence reduced to mere background noise. She could scarcely hear own breathing beginning to regulate.

For just a moment, his heartbeat became her world.

“...We'll dance until you’re okay, no matter how long it takes.”

As time went on, she could hear his heart rate gradually slow beneath her ear, its gentle rhythm lulling her into a sense of calm as she shut her eyes. After a few more minutes of rest, slowly, she lifted her tear-streaked face from his chest, meeting his gaze with uncertainty.

Charlotte couldn’t help but find irony in the situation, dancing with Calbert’s son after being warned only moments before to stay away from him. At the least, she could assume that he was not adhering to some vile order from his dear old father. He had approached her on his own accord.

As Charlotte rested her head against his chest, Cassius found himself conscious of the undeniable thrill that came with holding her close. A sense of peace came over him as her heartbeat gradually synced with his own. Yet, beneath the surface there was a nagging sense of curiosity and concern. Though, he brushed the feelings from his mind for the moment and focused on the task at hand, making sure that she was alright and that no one was the wiser of how close she had come to a breakdown.

With each step of the waltz, Cassius held her with adept ease, every one of his movements fluid and deliberate. His gaze softened as he watched her gradually find solace in the rhythm of his heart and their dance. He knew more than most the power of distraction, of losing oneself in the moment to escape the turmoil of the heart and mind. So, he just danced with her for a time, guiding her through the steps until her own impressive muscle memory kicked in and she matched his strides.

As the minutes carried on, Charlotte's tremors began to subside, and her breathing steadied against his chest. Cassius could feel the tension slowly melting away from her body, replaced by a fragile calm. She was not cured of the panic entirely but he could tell that he was helping. He continued to hold her close, his embrace a silent promise of safety amidst the chaos of the ballroom and her mind alike. As the music played on and the world around them fell into insignificance, Cassius couldn't ignore the burning questions that lingered in the air so heavy. What had happened to drive Charlotte to the heights of anxiety like that? Who had done that to her? And why had seeing her in such a state bothered him so?

As these thoughts circled in his mind, Charlotte found her strength to speak. . “Thank you…” Her voice was a soft whisper, barely rising above the hum of the ballroom.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Cassius moved Charlotte to a halt as she thanked him. His hand rested softly on her waist as he looked into the tear-streaked eyes behind her mask. There was a vulnerability in her gaze, a silent plea for understanding. He watched as her eyes searched his for answers, but to what questions?

“Wow…”He said with clear sarcasm.
“It’s not every day that one's skill on the dancefloor is so flawless that it merits a Thank You.” He laughed gently, his jest nothing more than a hopeful strategy to win a smile from his dance partner.

“But…really, no need for thanks. I wasn’t about to let you break one of the tried and true rules of revelry…” Cassius let a pause hang in the air for dramatic effect before continuing. “Na maskarade nel'zya plakat'…No crying allowed at the masquerade.” He reached a hand out and lifted her mask ever so slightly, gently wiping away the small streaks of tears and smeared mascara with his thumb in a caressing motion. “Plus, how could a man like me resist the opportunity to play the hero when so often I am cast in other roles?”

Charlotte's eyes held a soft gleam as she met his gaze, a subtle smile forming on her lips as he attended to her. With a flutter, her lashes lowered. "Ah," she eventually remarked, a trace of amusement coloring her voice, “ So that’s why you’re suddenly a gentleman tonight. Adhering strictly to the rules? ...Nа maskarade nel'zya byt' vulgarnym?”

Cas’s smile remained as he acknowledged her playful question with a wink. He slowly began to lead her in the waltz once more, but soon that smile faltered a bit, falling into a look of concern as his next thought was made into words. "What happened, Lottie?" His voice was low and velvet, laced with a hint of worry. "I'm a rather good listener... when I want to be." He flashed her a roguish grin, hoping to continue to lighten the mood even as his own curiosity gnawed at him.

As her smile faded, Charlotte's thoughtful gaze drifted downward, mulling over his words. Briefly meeting his eyes once more, she couldn't help but notice the subtle grin on his face. She could not help but ponder why this man always seemed adorned with an expression of amusement as if it were a part of his daily ensemble.

“...I had this gnawing suspicion that an individual, in particular, harbored ill intentions toward those dear to me…” " Her hold on him unwittingly tightened. “ Not only did I discover that I was correct, but I also learned the extent of their schemes... and it's far more sinister than I ever imagined.” Her expression began to falter as she spoke, the weight of her words visibly pressing down on her. “...and now, I can't help but feel that I have not done enough.”

Cas’s hand lifted once more as he watched her expression break. With a gentle touch, he lifted her chin slowly so that her fallen gaze met his once again. This time it was he that searched her eyes for answers as the information processed in his mind. He wondered who exactly it was that threatened her, that made her so afraid. For someone to do so in his father’s home was an insult to the Damien name…then a ping of curiosity struck him.

No… he wondered to himself as he noted where she had re-entered the ballroom from and what exactly that exit led to.

Calbert’s study.

Surely not…. He remembered his father’s warning about the Vikena family. He let his mind wander briefly to how the Count treated Charlotte at the beach, and the contempt he clearly held for her. His mind turned to the potential that she could be referring to his father. But he wouldn’t pry, and he wouldn’t push. If that was the case he understood that the truth would come out eventually, so instead he simply looked deep into her eyes and returned his focus to comforting her.

“Well…I’d say that’s definitely a cause for a bit of concern.” He exclaimed as he continued to process her words. “And I’m sorry, my lady. I’m sorry that someone is being so cruel to you.” His features softened and his smile faded as he continued. “I know what it means to have enemies, and I know just the feeling you speak of. The burden of feeling like you haven’t done enough.” Cas’s eyes fell to the floor momentarily as he let the weight of such a feeling wash over him. “I’m all too familiar with that one myself.”

Taking a deep breath, he let his thumb slip from under her chin and gently caressed her cheek. Her face reddened under his touch as their met again. Those gray-blue eyes of his may as well have been windows into a raging storm at sea as he leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a calm whisper. “Look…I don’t know you, at least not really, but I have an eye for people, Lottie, and I can tell you’re not the kind of girl who does anything but her best. I’m sure it’s enough, and even when it can’t be…we pick up the pieces and try again.”

There was a silence before she smiled faintly. “As long as life's rhythm flows through our veins, let us grasp onto the light of hope that persists, guiding us through the darkest of nights.” She quoted.

“Echoes of Eternity, right?” Cassius nodded in recognition of the quote, his expression displaying how impressed he was by her literary knowledge.

The dance continued, their bodies moving together in step as he spoke. “Alistair Veremond’s work in philosophy is one of those things that will always be underrated…no matter how popular it is. Honestly, it’s instrumental reading for anyone with a curious mind.” Cas briefly recalled learning of the man’s writing for the first time. “I had this commanding officer, Brant was his name…he was a monster in the field, but the man was a philosopher at heart. He made sure Veremond was required reading for the entire unit. Lot’s of complaints from some of the other Wolves, but personally I couldn’t get enough.”

Charlotte’s brows initially lifted at his words. Though she hadn’t expected him to recognize the quote, her surprise was mild. “He is certainly a wonderful philosopher…I’ve read Echoes of Eternity perhaps three times now…Veremond viewed the world in a beautiful way I wish I could see with my own eyes .” She smiled to herself as she spoke. Before she could delve deeper into her thoughts, his final statement registered in her mind and confusion crossed her expression. “Pardon me… Wolves?”

“The Iron Wolves.” Cassius clarified. “It’s a renowned company of sellswords from the Varian kingdom.” His smile grew more confident. “Many would go as far as to say they’re the premiere mercenary group in all of Eromora…and humbly, I was one of their best.”

Charlotte’s eyes lit as a thrill surged through her and she let go of Cassius mid- dance. Unable to contain her enthusiasm, she let out a delighted gasp. With a little hop of excitement, she clasped her hands together. “I can’t imagine the adventures you’ve been on! And how brave you must be…” Her voice trailed off as her thoughts raced ahead like a runaway train, trying to envision all his tales of daring escapades.

“You must have helped so many people… I think I would do almost anything to have the kind of strength where I could make a difference for others.” There was a sparkle in her eyes as she smiled. “What greater honor is there than the life of a hero.”

As Charlotte lit up with excitement, Cassius matched her energy with wide eyes and an elated grin…but after a moment, something about her words shifted his expression to something slightly more somber. As his arms settled down at his side upon her releasing him, his mind focused on that word, hero. A specific memory burned at the edges of his mind, but he brushed it away before it could fully manifest. He was no hero, but rather whatever he was paid to be. Though his eyes trailed away from hers and to the ground for a brief moment, he met her gaze once more with a feigned smile. ”The things I’ve seen over the last decade…adventure is barely enough to describe it. There is more beauty in this world than anyone will ever see with their own eyes. I’m honored to have experienced so much of it.”

Charlotte observed the subtle shift in Cassius's expression, sensing a hint of melancholy beneath his practiced smile. After some hesitation, she reached out to gently take his hand.

As their fingers intertwined, Charlotte met his eyes with a warm smile. "From what I've studied in books, the world sounds breathtakingly beautiful," she remarked softly. "Yet, I've only experienced a fraction of it firsthand. I would love nothing more than to hear about your adventures and the places you've explored someday."

Cassius felt a strange cocktail of emotions as Charlotte's hand found his, her warmth seeping into his skin, thawing the tendrils of past memories that threatened to creep back in. Her genuine curiosity and innocent enthusiasm were like a balm to his weary soul. As he looked into her eyes, so full of hope and wonder…There was a noticeable departure from the melancholy they often carried, and especially the panic that was present only moments ago. He was glad his little distraction was working.

Pondering her words, Cassius found himself torn by the truth of his experiences. The world she imagined, the one painted in the pages of her books, was often a far cry from the reality he had known. Though that did not deter him from seeking the beauty of the world around every corner, in fact it was likely the reason he sought it with such determination. As for now, it was easy to find beauty in this shared moment. His eyes briefly turned to the sight of her hand in his, and with a silent chuckle and a kind smile he responded.

"I’m nothing if not an open book…" he said softly. "And I’m sure you can tell by now that I’m never above a humble brag.” Cassius used their interlocked hands to gently pull her in closer as he spoke and led her back into the dance once more, allowing the music to drown out the whispers of his past, if only for a little while longer. His hand rested low on Charlotte’s waist as he studied her eyes with appreciation. ”But I’m sure you have your share of stories as well…Kings, Queens, and all the luxury that comes with a life of nobility. Surely you’ve known all kinds of beauty, albeit a different kind.”

Charlotte’s cheeks flushed, though she didn’t give any indication as to why. “I-I…” She stammered, her thoughts momentarily scattering as she became acutely aware of where his hands were placed. Despite this brief distraction, she quickly regained her composure and flashed a very broad smile. “ Yes… I have quite some lovely memories with wonderful people I’ve had the honor of meeting.”

Noticing the blush on her cheeks, Cassius made the connection and realized that his hand was lower on her waist than he had even registered. He would have moved it higher had she seemed uncomfortable with its placement, but instead he simply enjoyed each step of their continued waltz. I’m glad you have those wonderful memories. Do me a favor, Lottie…Hold onto them for dear life. This world has a way of trying to pull the good times into the mud with the bad. Don’t let it.” His tone was gentle, and his advice came from a heartfelt place. However, before he could continue or she could react, the music swelled to its crescendo and came to a stop.

Cas’s eyes broke away from Charlotte as he looked around the room at the other dancers parting ways. He did not rush to move his body away from hers, and even once he finally moved back a few inches, he allowed her hand to remain in his. ”Well…looks like this dance is over. Guess the stories and memories will have to wait until our next one. He jested. Not even the intensity of his lupine mask could obfuscate the warmth in his eyes or the sweetness of his smile. He pulled her hand up and pressed his lips to it gently. “No more tears, my lady. For the night is young and full of possibilities. All you have to do is seize them.”
Charlotte remained transfixed as he spoke, her feet rooted to the spot even as he leaned in to kiss her hand. As his lips brushed against her skin, her heart fluttered uncontrollably as her eyes met his, and his met hers. In that prolonged moment, the rest of the room dissolved into insignificance, the surroundings blurring into nothingness just as it had earlier, leaving only the two of them in a moment stuck in time.

Even as reality gradually seeped back into her awareness, the silence lingered. Her thoughts raced for a moment longer before finally finding the words to break it.

“...Thank you again, Lord Damien,” She expressed with genuine warmth in her tone, although her posture had subtly shifted to something more guarded. “I am grateful that tonight allowed for a more cordial exchange between us. Enjoy the remainder of your evening.” With a polite nod, she turned sharply, her figure swiftly swallowed up by the bustling crowd as it filled the space between them.

Before he could find the words to reply to Charlotte, she was gone. As the crowd swirled around him, Cassius took a moment to collect his thoughts. He couldn't deny the beating of excitement that danced in his chest at the prospect of getting to know Charlotte a little better. There was something about her innocence and curiosity that drew him in, offering a refreshing contrast to the shadows that often clouded his past. Mostly, though, he was simply glad to have helped her avoid such a public display of panic. Perhaps it was further atonement for his actions the other night, though still in this moment he couldn’t understand why he cared. At the very least, this felt better than the way things had played out that night.

With a sigh, he shook off his reverie and glanced around the ballroom, once again taking in the elaborate masks and elegant costumes that adorned the guests. The music started to play once more, rhythm weaving its way through the air like a whisper in the background of his mind. Cassius found himself moving towards the refreshment table, as he had already done multiple times tonight, and poured himself another glass of wine as he leaned against the marble countertop. He observed the other guests with a far more detached interest as his thoughts inevitably drifted back to Charlotte, the dance they shared, and the night’s masquerade which he certainly would never forget.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: The Evening of Sola 23rd
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom
Mentions/Interactions:[@Concord] Fritz (and technically Riona), @princess Charlotte, @Helo Leo

As Charlotte gracefully excused herself from the group to embark on her quest for clues, Cassius couldn't help but watch her retreating figure with admiration and even a bit of amusement. She was an enigma to him in ways…more than she seemed but also genuine in a way that few people were. Yet, as she disappeared into the crowd, his attention was swiftly redirected to the remaining company at the table. He pondered Fritz’s words with a grin.

“Lord Damien, I feel left out. Will you not tell us how beautiful and strong we are too?”

Fritz's playful request for Cassius to extend his charms in his direction brought a mischievous glint to Cassius's eyes. If there was one thing he excelled at…and let’s be honest, he excelled at so many things, it was weaving words into a seductive dance, regardless of the audience. With a smooth shift in posture, Cassius turned his full attention to Fritz...his lips curling into a devilish smirk.

"Well, Lord Fritz…it seems the stars have aligned in your favor tonight." Cassius purred, his voice laced with allure. "For you, my new friend, are about to have the full, irresistible Cassius Vael experience...At least the version that’s suitable for such a public soirée." Leaning in closer, Cas's gaze locked onto Fritz with the intensity of a man who knew the power of his own attraction…and he intended to wield it with absolute precision.

Cassius reached a tender hand out to gently brush some of Fritz’s hair behind his ear. “I wonder if anyone has ever told you that you have some of the gentlest eyes that could ever exist. You are beautiful, truly. In a way that most people are not. And soft…” He said as he allowed the back of his hand to brush against Fritz’s cheek. His voice lowered to where only the two of them were likely to hear. “But there’s something else about you…something I’m not even sure I understand well enough to properly articulate…you have the essence of someone that I would very much like to get to know.” He smiled that intoxicating smile, his eyes softening as he took in the complexities within Fritz’s eyes.

He then turned his gaze to Leo slowly, who had also been watching Charlotte leave. “And as for that distinguished gentleman as you called him…" Cassius whispered. He’s just so…so…bloody boring.” He stated sardonically as Leo engaged with the two women that joined the group, including the one who he’d seen the pocket watch dangling from a moment prior. Still standing intimately close to Fritz, he said his goodbye.

“Well, handsome…I think it’s about time I go look for the watch over…there.” He said, pointing to a wine station on the other side of the room. “Come ask me to dance in a bit, if you’re bold enough. But just in case you’re not feeling brave tonight, Lord Fritz…I guess I’ll bid you adieu.” Cas let his gaze and smile linger on Fritz’s black, mysterious eyes a moment longer before turning to leave. Without so much as a parting word to the others, Cassius took his exit from the table and elegantly worked his way through the crowd in the direction of a good drink.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: The Evening of Sola 23rd
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom
Mentions/Interactions:@JJ Doe Fritz (and technically Riona), @princess Charlotte, @Helo Leo, @samreaper Mr. V

Cassius observed the scene unfold with the practiced eye of a gambler surveying the cards on the table. One of the men took Charlotte's hand in his own, a gesture that did not escape Cassius's notice and one that caused a wave of curiosity to surge through him. There was a certain finesse to the man's movements, a subtle manipulation that danced beneath the surface like a shadow cloaked in sunlight. Yet, despite the veneer of a sinister nature, Cassius couldn't help but sense a gentle heart beating beneath it all, a contradiction that honestly both intrigued and unnerved him. Eventually, that very contradiction of a man stood to introduce himself.

“And you’ll have to excuse me for drawing you away from the one who so captivates your interest…Lord Cassius Damien, I presume? It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Fritz.” The intriguing man said, extending a hand to Cassius, which he shook without hesitation and purposefully maintained eye contact.

“Very perceptive of you, Mr. Fritz. Indeed I am the bastard son of Count Damien…and newest Lord to grace Caesonia. Lovely to make your acquaintance.” he mused, his voice dripping with honeyed charm.

“If the others don’t mind, I think it would be heartening to have your assistance, Lord Damien. More the merrier, I say.”

After nodding in agreement and releasing Fritz's hand, Cassius took a second to acknowledge the server among them with a smile and friendly wink, before letting his attention turn to the man clad in lion themed attire who was clearly annoyed by his presence.

He did not verbally respond to Leo’s words, but the man's judgment hung in the air like a storm cloud on the horizon. His disdain was palpable even beneath the mask he wore. Instead…Cassius arched a brow, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips as he glared at Leo arrogantly. Ah…the illustrious Lord Smithwood, he thought to himself, his inner voice laced with sarcasm. So quick to judge, yet so slow to understand the game played all around you. His mind turned to his father’s dossier, and the man’s thoughts on the people of importance in the kingdom…Cassius had to admit that Calbert’s musings seemed spot on thus far, at least when it came to the young Smithwood.

But what of Charlotte? Was Calbert right about her as well?

His father's words echoed in the recesses of his mind like a warning whispered on the wind. Calbert Damien had made his disdain for Charlotte and her stepfather clear, a testament to the drama between the two families. And yet, despite his father's wishes, Cassius couldn't deny the call of curiosity. His draw to Charlotte was undeniable even though he did not understand it in the slightest, a magnetic pull that tugged at the edges of his consciousness even when his mind should be focused on other matters. In reaction to Count Fritz’s acknowledgment of Cas’s captivation by Charlotte, he adjusted…masking his curiosity behind a veil of nonchalance, his gaze lingering on her for but a moment before shifting back to the task at hand as she turned her attention to Leo.

As the conversation transitioned to finding the missing watch and Charlotte laid out her suggestions, Cassius's gaze swept across the crowd, his eyes alight with a hunter’s gleam. As he looked over the partygoers, he pondered the men around Charlotte. They all seemed to notice his eyes on her, even the server that still stood amongst them seemed to have thoughts on the matter. Cas wondered about the nature of each fella’s relationship with her, curious if any of them were potential suitors or had romantic ties to the girl he had been so uncharacteristically drawn to. He could not care less about Lord Smithwood’s watch, and yet he scanned the crowd with a practiced eye…his senses sharpened by years of navigating the treacherous life of a mercenary. Quickly someone caught his eye. There, amidst the sea of masks and shadows, he spotted her…a woman in an orange and gold dress, donning the disguise of a cat mask, her presence was like a beacon in the darkness.

Not many gowns of orange and gold, I imagine…surely she’s the one. Cassius pondered internally as he took in the sight of her. He caught his glance just as the woman was beginning to move away from the dance floor, and sure enough…dangling from her waist piece was a pocket watch. From the way it hung, Cassius could tell that the woman most likely didn’t even know it was in her possession. His instinct to point it out to the others was silenced as he turned his own attention back to Leo once more. The smug look of superiority on the man’s face was enough to garner contempt, but the shrill pitch of his voice and oddly timed fit of laughter only added to the aura of unlikability. He considered his options just as Leo addressed him once more.

“Apologies, Cassius, the watch belongs to my father, his before his, for many years, irreplaceable…An excellent showing at the archery contest the other day, by the way.” The compliment from Leo was almost enough to sway the balance of the scales adequately for Cassius to offer up his knowledge of the watch, but the man’s half-assed nod made his decision for him.

“Thank you kindly, Lord Smithwood. I do great work, especially when there’s a captive audience.”

No, he would not reveal the whereabouts of the watch…at least not yet. The whole scenario amused him and he was far more interested to see how this little group would fair in finding it on their own. Plus, given the fact that all three gentleman seemed interested in, or at least protective of, Charlotte in their own ways…he saw an opportunity to test those waters that he simply could not resist. Careful not to repeat the mistakes of the other night, Cassius addressed Charlotte directly…his tone of voice even more alluring than normal.

“Lady Vikena, I would be remiss if I did not admit that it is quite lovely to see you. It seems you’re as clever as you are kind and as kind as you are beautiful.” He complimented, his best smile on display just for her. Even though a part of him was doing this simply to see the reactions of the others, he meant every word he spoke and could not deny that he appreciated her eyes on him as he continued to speak. The air of sarcasm that usually painted his words disappeared completely now that they were directed to her, replaced by unmistakable genuineness. “And we can certainly turn back to the watch in a moment, but I would regret it if I did not acknowledge how wonderful your entire ensemble looks. I would not have personally picked you for a butterfly, though beautiful…they are far too fragile a creature to do you justice, but nonetheless you look simply incredible, as I’m sure you would regardless of the theme.” With a polite bow towards Charlotte, Cassius allowed his eyes to meet those of each of the other three men at the table as a way to gauge their feelings for his gesture.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: The Evening of Sola 23rd
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom
Mentions/Interactions:@princess Calbert & Charlotte, @Helo Leo

After his enlightening tête-à-tête with father dearest, Cassius was reminded that despite the Count’s attempts to make him feel like part of the family, like a true Damien…he was still, and perhaps always would be, an outsider. The proof was in the way that Calbert shrugged him off with the arrival of Liliane and whatever news she brought to his ear. Instead of enlightening his dear son, Calbert decided to brush him aside as though he was merely a distraction from the real, important matters at hand. An enigmatic…almost mischievous grin curled across his lips as he took a swig of wine.

He found himself surveying the room with a subtle air of curiosity, his attention momentarily diverted from the weight of paternal advice he had just been given. His eyes roved across the masquerade, dissecting the colorful tapestry of masks and gowns that adorned the revelers. Part of him admired the spectacle and beauty of it all, but something else stirred in him beneath the surface…contempt.

Not even the pageantry of a masquerade like this could bury the fact that most of the nobles around him were snakes. The majority of the people in this room were wearing masks and costumes to disguise themselves, but Cassius understood the sad truth about nobility…Too many of them were so caught up in their little performances and forgeries of their own lives that they were even phonier than the very gods themselves. The real truth was that most of these people were more authentic under the masks they donned tonight than they were under the facades they clung to in their everyday lives. Even Cassius could admit to wearing a mask from time to time…but to be so lost in the delusions of self-importance and desperation to fit in, that these people found themselves chained to, was a disgrace.

With a subtle, redirecting breath, Cassius let the contempt roll off his shoulders. He didn’t hate these people, nor did he even dislike them. Mostly…he just pitied them the slaves of society that they had come to be. The contempt that had brewed beneath the surface was once again overtaken by a mischievous craving. His stormy blue eyes once again scanning the crowd curiously.

Amidst all the grandeur, Cas’s gaze settled on a particular figure. The woman was gorgeously adorned in a gown with a butterfly motif. At first, Cassius thought it was simply the beauty of her form and splendor of her dress that drew his gaze, but as he admired the woman for a moment, he eventually took in the sight of her eyes and a spark of recognition hit him. He had seen those eyes before…

Charlotte.

The very woman that his father had warned him to steer clear of. Cassius turned back to see Calbert and Liliane still on route to make their exits. His eyes widened with a look of wonderfully smug insubordination. If the Count can have his secrets…so can I.” He thought, a sly smirk crossing his face.

Moving through the crowd with purpose, Cassius skirted the periphery of the group, hoping to pick up on their conversation. Thankfully, a man in a dashing ensemble with a lion theme made it very…very easy for him to overhear.

“There is a thief wandering the ballroom, they have stolen my watch and left that in my pocket. We must solve this crime immediately.” the man exclaimed, urgency evident in his voice. The declaration hung in the air, igniting a sense of adventure within Cassius as he prepared to delve deeper into the mysteries of the masquerade.

This was his moment to intervene. Stepping out from the periphery and approaching the group directly, Cassius addressed them with nothing but delight in his voice.

"Excuse my interruption... but if I heard correctly, you mentioned a thief in our midst? Surely not! Not here within the hallowed sanctuary of the esteemed Count's domain." He remarked with a touch of sarcasm. "This is quite unexpected. Luckily for you, I possess a discerning eye for these kinds of…shenanigans, and I just so happen to find myself sufficiently intrigued to entertain such a diversion. How could I not offer my assistance?…This is my father’s little gathering, after all.” As he spoke, Cas’s eyes moved between each and every member of the little group, lingering on Charlotte the longest, his gaze accompanied by a rather curious smile.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Calbert & Cassius
Time: Afternoon before the Masquerade
Location: The Damien Office™
Mention: @Lava Alckon Drake @Tpartywithzombi Ariella @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

Seated behind a massive mahogany desk, the black-haired count had been steepling fingers against the wood, creating an imposing silhouette against the backdrop of pelts and skulls as Cassius entered. His son would first be greeted by the scent of leather and the metallic of the weaponry.

The dimly lit office itself was furnished with the spoils of Count Calbert Damien's hunts. The walls were adorned with mounted animal heads, their glassy eyes fixed on unsuspecting visitors. A selection of hunting rifles adorned both the walls and various pieces of furniture. Swords also hung with purpose on the wall. Most notably also on the wall was the mounted gator that hung in the corner of the room right across from the front door.

The shadows in the room seemed to dance with the flickering flames of a nearby fireplace as Calbert’s blue eyes found their way to the sight of his son. “Ah, Cassius.” he greeted with a smile, gesturing elegantly to an upholstered chair. “Take a seat.”

Taking in the sights and sounds of the fascinating gallery of decor that was his fathers office, Cassius strolled over to where his father instructed him to take a seat. He paused momentarily to unclasp his baldric, carefully securing his axe before placing both belt and weapon on the corner of his father’s desk.

Sinking comfortably into the chair, Cassius’s gaze continued to roam amidst the array of trophies, weapons, and artifacts adorning the walls and shelves of the room. The ambiance his father aimed to create was unmistakable, yet Cassius couldn't help but wonder if it truly reflected the essence of the man himself or merely served as embellishment for the persona he wished to project to the world. Finally, meeting his father's cold blue gaze with his own stormy gray eyes, Cassius spoke.

“Hello, father…” He greeted, returning the man’s smile with a hint of his own. “I must admit, I’ve been curious about the purpose of this little meeting ever since you mentioned it on the beach.” The smile shifted slowly into his usual, more arrogant smirk. ”Are you always this…formal with your children?”

“ Formal? I did not particularly see it in such a manner…” He admitted thoughtfully, “ I see this as two men having an exchange within the comfort of their home. If you prefer a different scenery for the next time then consider it done my son. “

“Now, onto the reason you’re here… I want to impart knowledge about the people you’ll encounter. Caesonia differs from Varian; appearances can be deceiving, and there’s often a strategic game in motion.” He motioned towards himself.

“Trust me, my wife, and sisters. Beyond our blood, exercise caution. Let me guide you through the key figures and advise on those warranting particular vigilance. Then, I’d like you to also tell me briefly more about what kind of life you lived to better understand your side of things. ”

"No, no…that won’t be necessary. This office provides a fitting backdrop for our dramatic little conversations. Honestly, It's quite the chamber... I can only imagine the stories behind each piece adorning it. As someone who appreciates a good narrative myself, I must say, the atmosphere alone in this room speaks volumes. And this chair? Exceptionally comfortable." Cassius remarked, his tone carrying genuinity with just a hint of sarcasm. "So, meeting here suits me just fine, and should circumstances dictate otherwise, I'm always adaptable."

Leaning in, Cassius rested his cheek on his fist, his elbow finding support on the chair's arm. "Regarding your recommendation and request, I welcome your insights into the people of Sorian. If I am truly to be a member of this noble court, acquainting myself with Caesonia's elite seems prudent. Information, as you of all people well know, is a valuable asset and never a worthless weapon."

“Excellent…”

Recalling his father's mention of his life before coming here, Cassius's gaze wandered back to the axe resting on the edge of the desk. It served as a tangible reminder of his past, of the life he led before arriving at the grand Damien estate. "Feel free to ask about my life before our first meeting. I'm an open book, after all." he offered, inviting the Count to explore further.

Calbert raised a brow and leaned on the table. He was quick to question him, curiosity evident in his eyes, “Very well. Where have you been living and what have you done to provide for yourself over the years?”

"Where have I been living? Well…here, there, and a little bit of everywhere to be honest. My journey with the Iron Wolves has taken me across continents. From the vast landscapes of Varian to dense jungles, unforgiving deserts, and treacherous seas spanning Eromora. I've left my mark across this world and my footprints remain in places that few will ever have the fortune of seeing."

Cassius extended his free hand, resting his palm against the axe before him. "And this…" he gestured towards the weapon, "This has been my means of sustenance. As a sellsword, a sentinel, an assassin, and pretty much everything in between…my livelihood has often revolved around weapons such as this."

Count Calbert's gaze had locked upon the presented axe with a nonchalant demeanor. His brows furrowed slightly, hinting at a subtle tension, but outwardly, he maintained a neutral expression just as he had the entire time Cassius had been speaking. "I see... How long have you lived like this? Do you think you'll be able to settle down in a world where our battles are not fought with swords?"

Noticing the subtle tension in Calbert's demeanor, Cassius couldn't resist the urge to flash his smug smirk once more. "That was my reality for over a dozen years." He admitted. "They trained me for a while, of course, but aside from that the life of a mercenary and wanderer is all I’ve known. Even before joining the Wolves, mother and I never lingered in one place for more than a few months at a time. I'll be candid with you for the sake of transparency…I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious to see how I'll adapt to a more settled life. Yet, there's been a part of me yearning for such a change of pace for some time now."

He nodded slowly, taking it all in silently. Then, Calbert asked, “...Do you take interest in finding a spouse for the courting season? … Have any caught your eye?”

Cassius reflected on his father’s question, allowing the memories of the women he had met since arriving in Sorian to drift through him. Several notable encounters came to mind: the delightful evening spent with Princess Anastasia, the fiery and passionate rendezvous with Kalliope, and the complex dynamics with Lady Charlotte, the girl next door, which had been less than ideal thus far. However, he chose to play coy on all accounts. “I haven't given serious thought to courting or marriage. But nevertheless, if it's a responsibility required of me now that I am to assume the Damien name, I am willing to entertain the idea. Anything for the family." His words were spoken genuinely, though internally Cassius knew that he was only blowing smoke to build rapport with the good Count. He honestly had zero interest in marriage, especially if it was nothing more than a ploy for political gain. For now, though, he would simply play the role of eager son.

Calbert smiled at him once he had finished his answer, “Thank you for sharing with me all this. Such is an admirable quality to put one’s family first. Marriage is indeed a hill we can conquer together when you are ready… However I am certain you are aware it is a courting season so the opportunity is open to you… But before one considers such, I’d like to tell you some more about those around us. It is wise to keep in mind who you can trust some and who you cannot at all.”

“I’m all ears, father. I’ve been dying to hear what someone truly thinks about everyone since I arrived. And please…don’t hold back.”

“Ah a connoisseur of gossip, I see.” Calbert chuckled, his eyes gleaming mischievously. He couldn't contain his sly grin as he unveiled a meticulously prepared book on the table. With a swift motion, he swiveled it toward Cassius, then he pointed to a page featuring the Edwards family.

“You will find Duke Gideon pleasant on first meeting, but do take caution that he will not follow through on any promise he makes you. He is a fool parading as a hero… His wife Victoria is a well… If I may be so blunt… a self centered bitch... However, Duke Gideon holds power over the Soralia territory and is held in high regard. The family as a whole are all pliable. “

“Gideon’s son Drake is simply a watered-down version of Gideon. “ Calbert gestured toward the son hurriedly with disinterest, then placed emphasis on the two daughters: Priscilla and Ariella, jabbing his pointer finger on the page. “The daughters are excellent choices as you want to climb up and not down the political ladder when it comes to marriage. Daughters of Dukes and especially princesses are your goal if you want to win the game, my son.”

Cassius leaned back in his chair, allowing his arms to fold nonchalantly across his chest as he took in his father’s words and studied the pictures presented to him. The man was nothing if not opinionated, that was for sure. Calbert clearly had an eye for details and strategy, to such a degree that Cas could not help but be impressed. With each dossier and strategic perspective, he glimpsed into the intricate layers of his father's mind.

The Count's candor and penchant for controversial judgments intrigued Cassius, who found himself drawn to the truth beneath the diplomatic veneer that men like his father usually maintained. While aware that Calbert likely tempered his words for the sake of decorum, Cas admired his father's willingness to delve into the nitty gritty of things, earning the Count some newfound respect in Cassius's estimation. He still didn’t trust a single thing that came out of the man’s mouth, but he could appreciate the audacity of his father.

With a charming nod as he processed the details, he finally responded. “Father…I must say…you are every bit the tactician I speculated you to be and more. Clearly you are a man fitting of your station, and I appreciate the candor. You’ve given me much to think about.” He peered into the depths of his father’s eyes for the briefest moment before letting his curiosity lead him to a question. “I am curious, though. Judging by your change in demeanor anytime they get brought up, I simply must ask…You seem especially abhorrent of Lady Charlotte and Duke Vikena. Is there some drama between our two families that I’m ignorant to?”

Calbert nodded, clearly pleased about his son’s compliments as he responded sincerely, “Thank you for the acknowledgement. My priority here is always to protect you and the girls, thus I want to be forthright with you about the kind of individuals that surround us.”

Before Calbert could comment much further, Cassius brought up the Vikenas, and the charming façade momentarily slipped. A fleeting shadow crossed his features, a subtle tightening around the corners of his eyes and a barely perceptible curl of his lips into a thinly veiled sneer.

However, he quickly recovered, smoothing out his features and adopting an air of casual indifference. “I am significantly unfond of them.” Calbert confirmed with thinly veiled disdain. “Duke Vikena has failed for years to provide proper diplomacy. His actions consistently sow discord, leaving the rest of us to clean up the messes he creates. I am personally handling the delicate task of reasoning with Lorenzo doing in hopes I can steer him in a more sensible direction… Nevertheless he is completely unfitting of his title.”

“And what of Lady Charlotte, is she simply guilty by association or is there more to your contempt for her?”

“…My distaste of her has stemmed mostly from recent events. I believe she may be mentally ill after losing both of her parents.” As he spoke, he glared down at the portrait of Charlotte. There was a smoldering intensity in his eyes, as if he possessed the power to set the very paper aflame. “She has become a predicament that I must address sooner rather than later…” His eyes lifted to meet his son’s gaze as he drew off, “I am aware of your words to Lady Vikena the other evening. My staff informed me of the exchange.”

“Though perhaps she is easy on the eyes, she is now an enemy of our family and will not be an acceptable friend nor lover at the current time.”

”Those are strong words, father. Problem that must be solved, enemy of the family…I won’t deny that my curious nature craves more details on the matter. However, I won’t pry further just now, you can simply disclose more if and when it makes sense for you. Plus…the scandals that my imagination is conjuring in the void of knowledge are almost too fun to spoil with the truth. Whatever her and her foolish step-father have done to earn your ire, I’m sure it was well deserved. You seem like such a reasonable man.” The final piece of his statement was very subtly veiled with sarcasm, so subtle that the Count himself may not notice in the midst of such a compliment. Cassius considered what his father said about Charlotte’s parents…having just lost a mother himself he can only imagine what the woman had gone through. That same pang of guilt from before about the way they met burned within him. His father’s enemies were not his own, at least not yet, so he could not help but feel bad for the girl. Those melancholy eyes of hers suddenly made much more sense.

“I have no intention of hiding the details from you, so if you have a moment, I will share the story.” He replied and then folded his hands on the table.

“Well, I did have a rather important meeting at the tavern this afternoon…but alas, I did say anything for the family. So, for you I have all the time in the world.” Cassius responded, the tongue in cheek clear in his tone of voice. ”Tell me everything.”

Calbert & Cassius
Time: Evening
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom
Mention: @Silverpaw Wulfric

---

"Cassius," Calbert's voice cut through the noise of the masquerade as he reached his son. The tone held an unmistakable weight, but remained neutral all the same. "Might I have a word please?"

Continuing to mingle and put a healthy distance between the Prince and himself, Cassius eagerly grabbed another glass of wine and sipped just as he heard the voice of Calbert addressing him, beckoning for a chat. Greeting the Damien patriarch with his ever charming smile, he addressed him with a proper bow.

"Hello, father.” Cassius remarked with a hint of zeal. It's good to see you in all the regalia and glory of that costume. It really highlights all of that intensity and mystery you wear so well. What's on your mind, and furthermore what can I do for you?”

Calbert leaned in slightly, his expression stern. "...Cassius, just as we discussed briefly earlier, you must be mindful of your conduct with others. The world's a stage, and every move you make is scrutinized by the audience around us," Calbert continued, his gaze piercing through the mask Cassius wore. He then inquired with a touch of suspicion, "When I approached, you seemed engrossed in conversation… With whom were you speaking with?"
A sly chuckle inadvertently escaped Cassius’s lips as his father said his piece. The man spoke to him as though he was nothing but an insolent child, and it humored him to no end, especially after their conversation earlier. Cassius understood how people perceived him. That devil may care attitude had gotten him into more than his share of trouble over the years, but Cas wasn’t opposed to trouble…he was far more opposed to the boredom and drudgery of pretending to be something he wasn’t.
He wondered about his father and the man’s level of actual life experience. Not the game of politics or nobility, but real experience down in the muck and blood of life’s darkest corners. Cassius was no child, as he explained to the man earlier, he has left footprints across more of the world than many could even dream of. He has spilled more blood than most could stomach; both his own and that of others, and he has seen the best and worst within people that the world has to offer. He was no sniveling little brat for his father to admonish, but the man had not crossed any lines just yet…so for now he would simply continue to play his role.
“That’s cute, father. Honestly. I will say, though, you are absolutely correct and there are few that understand that concept more than I. Life is truly but a stage…My mother taught me that many years ago.” His nonchalant tone stiffened a bit at the mention of Meredith, but relaxed again almost immediately. Unlike his father, whose expression had darkened under his mask.
“And as for my little chat…I was simply getting to know the good Prince. A real sweetheart he is. I think we’re going to be fast friends.”
“The Prince.” Calbert repeated. He glanced over his shoulder as he tried to find the figure again with darting eyes.

A pause lingered in the air as his emotions swelled within before he spoke, his words delivered in a low measured tone that betrayed an undercurrent of restrained intensity. “Prince Wulfric? Cassius, I certainly hope you held your tongue as I sensed some tension from across the room…” He said lowly with a scowl, “The royals are on edge. A lot has transpired which I am sure you recall. Trust me, it would be imprudent to find yourself at odds with Prince Wulfric or his mother right now. Keep them in the palm of your hand instead of the other way around.”

Cassius’s eyes landed on his father’s scowl. He found a humorously sweet sense of irony in the fact that only now at the age of twenty-seven, after everything he had seen and all the things he had done, was he actually getting to experience the disapproving scowl of a father. The very thought formed a smug little smirk that painted his expression. “I must admit, father, the conversation was a bit of a disappointment. I only wished to pay compliments to such an opulent masquerade ensemble…but little Wulfy decided to lash out, so I matched his spirit.” Cassius folded his arms across his chest to quietly mimic his father’s seriousness. “I imagine it wasn’t the best move from your perspective, but the way I see it…better the Prince sees me as a fool than a threat.”

His father’s eyes had wandered from the smirk down to the folding arms, taking in his son’s reaction before choosing his words. “Prince Wulfric possesses an intense disposition, not renowned for affability. Nevertheless, his moves are executed with the calculated precision of a serpent.” Calbert leaned in, his voice lowering to a discreet murmur, “I understand your wish to defend yourself…Presently, the advantage lies in the prince’s favor. Recall, Cassius, he is destined to ascend to the throne. At his whim, he could ordain your demise out of mere spite…Yet, a time will come when we shall no longer be beholden to the vexations of spoiled princes, provided we play our cards carefully.”

The ambition that underscored his father’s words ignited a spark of interest within Cassius. Like earlier, he was getting a look beyond the man’s well-crafted demeanor and usual presentation. His own curiosities would not let him refuse an opportunity to see just a little glance of the actual man beneath. “And I can understand your desire to educate your newfound blood on the intricacies of the game you’re playing. After all, it would be a shame if I came straight off the streets and set fire to all of your well laid plans…So, allow me to offer you my undivided attention. Please, elaborate.”

Calbert's desire to reply to his son was abruptly halted as his wife, Liliane, rushed into the room with an expression akin to someone who had witnessed a ghost. The distress etched on her face was evident, despite being partially concealed by a delicate, feathery white mask. With a sense of urgency, she advanced toward Calbert, disregarding Cassius entirely, and delivered a message in a hushed tone directly into his ear.

They then exchanged glances as she pulled away. His mouth tightened into a thin line, and a visible pallor washed over his complexion. It took a moment before he mustered a response, and whispered in return. Following the exchange, Liliane promptly made her way toward the exit of the ballroom. His eyes wandered back to his son, “Cassius… We will return to this matter later… For now, please refrain from any more quarrels. Your sisters are interested in finding suitors this season after all… Perhaps you should take interest in the same.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: The Evening of Sola 23rd
Location: Damien Estate Ballroom
Mentions/Interactions:@SilverPaw Wulfric, @princess Calbert

Clad in the black and gold glory of his meticulously crafted masquerade ensemble, Cassius paraded and swayed through the elegant and timeless ballroom with all the smugness and swagger of a very proud man. That pride swelled with each step, fueled by the knowledge that he had left an indelible impression on Prince Wulfric. It might not have been the impression he initially intended, but the good prince would remember his name and when all is said and done that in of itself was enough for Cas to feel as though he had won the night. To be remembered is the only real victory, after all.

Other meetings unfolded and impressions were made as Cassius wove through the crowd, the grand ballroom becoming a stage for his theatrics of picking moments to mingle and grace the beautiful nobility in attendance with his presence…wielding his special brand of charm and grandeur as his weapon of choice for the evening. Each interaction, no matter how small, became a piece of the intricate social tapestry being interlaced within the walls of the Damien Estate as Cassius continued to feign ignorance of the fact that his father was approaching from across the room.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Evening of Sola 23rd, Twelve Years Ago

In the dense forest a few miles outside the small Varian village of Dren, rain poured relentlessly, turning the ground into a muddy battlefield. A younger Cassius, no older than 15, clad in worn-out clothes, stood shivering in the harsh cold. Across from him stood a cruel mercenary trainer named Balen, who was known for his ruthless methods…one of the Iron Wolves finest.

Balen’s voice cut through the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves as he barked orders. "Again! You call that an attack? Pathetic!"

Cassius, struggling to maintain his balance in the slippery terrain as exhausted as he was, raised his sword weakly and attempted a strike. Balen swiftly dodged the attack, delivering a harsh blow to the young man's side. He winced in pain but did not fall. He knew what would happen if he fell.

"You're weak, Vael! If you can't handle a little rain, how are you gonna make it through a real battle?" The brute’s words were laced with disdain. Despite the fatigue and pain, Cassius returned to his attack position. Mud clung to his clothes and matted his hair..his eyes, however, burned with determination. The trainer circled him, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "You're not worth the coin they're paying me, boy…but I'll make something out of you yet. Do it again!"

Once more Cassius lunged towards his trainer, this time with a flurry of attacks. Each one grew in desperation from the last, but again not even one of his strikes landed. Balen’s fist thrusted upwards into Cas’s ribs hard, the sound of the thud could be heard even over the thunder that rumbled in the evening sky. It was as though the gods themselves laughed at his failure. The pain was severe, but the rage building in him was worse.

“It’s a pity, Vael…they send you boys to me when they think they see something in you. I’m really REALLY starting to think they were…” Before Balen could finish his words Cassius flung his head forwards with every ounce of desperate anger and vitriol within him, smashing his own skull into the bridge of Balen’s nose. The man went stumbling backwards, grabbing at his face as Cas slipped and fell hard into the mud below. As he laid there he saw stars from the impact.

A thunderous scream of rage and pain emerged from Balen in the seconds that followed. The resonance of which may as well have shaken the very earth like the thunder that roared had moments ago. “You…You broke my fucking nose you worthless, good for nothing piece of shit.” The tone in Balen’s voice was more than enough to make Cassius realize the severity of what he had just done. Slowly, his rage began to turn into fear…but then, Balen’s tone shifted. “GOOD. YES!” The man exclaimed, almost joyously. “That’s the fucking spirit, Vael! Maybe the little welp can be a Wolf after all. Now, get off your ass and come at me again.” The man spit a mouthful of blood and at least one shattered tooth out onto the mud as he wiped the blood from his nose and head, using his free hand to offer Cassius help up. “We’re not done.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Wulfric & Cassius

---

---

A bark of laughter escaped the prince, laced with humour and a good dose of irony. Oh, to be judged by someone so opinionated - or rather, it was an excellent way to turn his own words against him, Wulfric had to admit. “Is that so?” he drawled, amused.

Cassius leaned into his personal space, and disgruntled at the invasiveness, Wulfric shifted his body in the opposite direction to a nearly imperceptible degree. The bastard’s words were insulting, yes, and the mock toast was presumptuous, but it was the overly familiar, self-indulgent closeness of a stranger which set the prince’s teeth dangerously on edge. Having had enough, he placed a gloved hand on the other man’s chest, and firmly shoved him away. It was a move which took in account Cassius’ height, weight, position, and even his combat training. Wulfric had indeed garnered that the man must have been a warrior from physique alone. Before Damien Jr. could have any ideas, he returned the hand to his side. That preemptive movement, and his prior swift, precise, and calculated push spoke of a certain level of training on the royal’s part as well.

“How fortuitous that I have disabused you of your foolish notions,” he replied coolly. “I am just a boring prince, and you yet another seducer,” he paraphrased the accusations they’d levied against another. What exactly did the man expect when he adorned a superficial facade; to provoke a genuine reaction? “Do you take the arrogant approach to make a point? Or do you take on the guise you claim to find dull in others because your own existence bores you?” he questioned rhetorically with a shake of his head.

“No matter,” he stated, as if answering himself. “We seem to be in agreement that this interaction will only bring dreadful disappointment, so please, do us both a favour, and take your leave.” He waved a clearly dismissive hand, fully expecting Cassius to do just that.

A smile that was steeped in mischief formed across his lips as the prince pushed him.

Glad to know it’s so easy to get under your skin. Cassius thought to himself amusedly.

The shove was measured and competent. If Cassius hadn’t already clocked the man as adept, the display of skill in that push would have revealed all he needed to know. The urge to test the depths of Prince Wulfric’s expertise grew in him, but Cas knew that now was certainly not the time. Perhaps under different circumstances, this interaction could lead to some recreational sparring, but for now, it was best to keep things from growing too tense. Though a little good old-fashioned antagonism couldn’t hurt, right?

“Do I revel in the game of seduction? Of course, love. Why would I not? Life is far too fleeting not to explore its beauty when the opportunity arises. However, I find it amusing that you assume my gesture was anything less than genuine. It humors me because I was almost certain that you would be more perceptive than that. The way you carry yourself, the majesty of your wonderfully intricate ensemble, the aura of competence surrounding you…these things gave me hope that you would be more than, well, this.” He declared audaciously. “As rare as it may be, even I have been known to be wrong once or twice in my life…and certainly I was imprecise about you.” Cassius could not contain the small eruption of laughter that had been building as the prince spoke. It came out even snarkier than intended, but oh well…they were already in this space of quarrel, and Cassius loved every second of it.

“It’s not simply your obtuse presumptions that make me laugh…it’s how inaccurate you truly are.” He continued with an air of candor to his tone. “To be forthright, your highness, despite my tendency to come on strong from time to time, my words held nothing but truth. There was no ploy nor was I trying to manipulate. It was simply one beautiful man admiring another bit of allure in the room. It’s a shame that your doctrinaire keeps such a hefty stick up your backside, Wulf…oh sorry, Prince Wulfric. I know your type tend to get a bit huffy if you aren’t addressed properly. You know, that need to be reminded constantly how special you are.”

Cassius held his positioning and took another sip from his wine, taking a moment to savor it frivolously. “But...since you so wish to be rid of me, I will grant you that favor, my Prince…but only because you asked like such a good boy.” His full arrogance was on display in his smirk as he relished this little entanglement. “But allow me to give you one final bit of advice before I go. Call it an act of good faith from one disappointment to another…do not ever push me again.”

“True or false, I am not interested,” Wulfric denounced flatly. He had told the man as much at the start. Yet, Cassius persisted with his explanations. Though, he was now mixing in venomous insults along with honeyed if back-handed compliments, shifting towards a verbal spar.

The prince had nothing but disdain for the man and his words. ‘I expect you to do as I desire; if you do, you are great, if not, you are lacking’ was the essence of his message. He was putting on airs as if he were the king himself. The comparison to Edin certainly did no favours to the self-proclaimed lover boy. “I couldn’t care less what you think of me. Believing I might was one of your numerous mistakes.” He scoffed, lightly amused. “And you say you have met royalty?” Cassius acted as if he knew all, but he knew nothing, nor was he willing to look beyond the most obvious surface level of observation. Wulfric acknowledged that neither did he, not for the bastard, as he had no wish to. However, he was at the very least aware of this, whereas Cassius did not seem to realize.

A shame because you cannot fulfill your ardent desire to replace that stick with something else? Of course, the prince absolutely did not make any vulgar allusions; it would be akin to trying to douse a fire with oil. But how droll the man thought he was, how dearly he cherished his crassness. Though, he was as articulate as he was crude. Was it a waste, or strangely fitting? A born and bred bastard, yet a noble, employing bawdy remarks befitting of a backstreet whore hand in hand with loftier phrases beseeming his status. Either way, Wulfric felt the faintest temptation to take a blade to his tongue.

“Life is fleeting,” he agreed curtly. His voice had the striking quality of a frigid morning in the deepest, most haunting of winters. Cassius might not make much of his own life, but what if his games endangered that which he most cherished? But no, even wondering such a thing about an incorrigible gambler who thought solely of gains and never of losses was pointless.

“Too fleeting for trivialities.” Like you are was the blatant implication. He was denigrating the man more so than he was his hobbies. Everyone had their forms of entertainment. It was merely that the ones he favoured and the one which Cassius proclaimed as supreme did not align. Nothing more, nothing less.

Finally, the man was taking his leave, not without more unwanted comments, of course. “The first sign of judiciousness on your part,” he commented on the decision to get lost. When the bastard dared threaten him, the prince stared him down. A feat he managed effortlessly despite being shorter. He wasn’t afraid, nor did he bother with a threat of his own. “If you do not push me, I will have no need to retaliate,” was all he said.

Cassius had been more than glad to take his leave then and there; having satiated his craving for a bit of strife for the moment. He chuckled to himself as he turned to walk away. The assumptions Prince Wulfric made about him were fair…very fair, and yet they were wrong in so many ways. It mattered not, however, because the end result had been delectable to him all the same. Just as he took his first step away from the prince, the man could not seem to help himself from trying to get the last word.

Good. Cassius thought to himself, keeping his body slightly skewed and not turning to face Wulfric directly as he let him continue his denigration.

The disdain in the man’s voice was ever so clear as Cassius took in each remark, his arrogant smirk growing larger and bolder by the second. If a bit of flirtatious repartee was enough to bring out such contempt from the royal brat, Cassius couldn’t help but mull over all of the ways he could get under Wulfric’s skin if he so pleased. There was one way he could think of that was very tempting indeed…perhaps too tempting. Even he knew that it would probably be a bad idea, but Cas’s eyes lit up from the bit of chaos settling on the tip of his tongue. Finally turning to face Wulfric as the man finished his remarks, Cassius smugly looked him in the eyes.

“No retaliation necessary, your highness. We are all here to have a fun evening, after all. It was lovely to meet you, Prince Wulfric. I look forward to our next little talk.” He said, a bit of insolence dripping from his voice. “Oh…and speaking of lovely…tell my Annie I said hello. It was such a pleasure getting to know her the other night.” Cassius raised a hand to his lips, blowing a kiss to his new friend and finally began walking away without giving the prince a chance to respond.

TL;DR

Cassius & Wulfric become the "best of friends" in a clash of wits and egos, a dance between two formidable personalities navigating the delicate line between tension and amusement.