Wulfric & Layla
Interaction: @Terrance420 Alden
Alden approached him, but as soon as the man dared call him âmy boyâ, Wulfric gave him a frosty warning glare. âDo take care of your forms of address, advisor. One in your current position should not forget themselves so.â Lest it be taken away from you was the abundantly clear implication. At his âadviceâ, he huffed an unamused breath. âOh, please. Donât tell me you have been away long enough to have forgotten this, too.â He didnât clarify what âthisâ was, however; that he disliked uselessness, that such a woman would clearly be of no interest to him, or something else. âGo take care of that instead,â he motioned with his head to the foreign warrior-man who wished to speak to the king.
***
The women were led closer, and Wulfric met the gaze of one Layla Kadir. He stood up and gave her a just-polite-enough Caesonian bow, but retained the eye contact, small, sharp smile in place. âWhat an unexpected yet welcomed surprise, Shehzadi.â
Layla ignored the other two ladies and instead, focused on Wulfric. His bow caused her to smirk, though she didnât return one to him. Would he be able to earn a customary Alidasht bow by the end of their chat? It would certainly be exciting to find out. âIâm full of surprises, Wulfric. At least you can pronounce our titles right.â Laylaâs voice carried proudly and smugly while she and Zilal neared the table. Her gaze was locked onto Wulfric; she hadnât moved to glance anyone elsesâ way. The eyes of the waiting peasants were like daggers in her back, but she didnât turn to address them. A whisper had broken out amongst the foul; namely, they were not thrilled she had cut before them and was now seated with the eldest prince. Her guards stayed a fair distance behind, but were near enough to strike if necessary.
The prince leaned a hip against his table, waiting for her approach. Once close enough, and if she wished to sit, he would do the gentlemanly thing, and hold out the guest-designated chair for her. A simple task that heâd indeed perform with perfection and no mischief, even though heâd decided to subtly needle her with his words.
âBut truly, there is hardly any need for someone of your status to come line up with the rest of this lot,â he smiled in a way that he knew flattered him, and impressed company. Yet there was the barest hint of a smirk bleeding through when he next spoke. âThough of course, if you wished to proclaim your intention to marry one of us, this would make for a prime opportunity,â he teased.
When Layla approached the table, she eyed the chair. That was enough for Wulfric to pull out the chair and for her to sit in. Once she was seated, Zilal slowly began to wind himself around the chair until he was at shoulder height. His gaze locked on Wulfric and he didnât back down from staring him down. Layla petted his head softly while she eyed him with a cold and amused expression. The prince reciprocated Zilalâs stare, then sat down, faint smile playing about his lips.
His subtle jab made her eyebrows raise and her lips curl into a smirk. âSitting with your kingdomâs constituents was not a punishment Iâd hope to endure for long. To be fair, they are amusing, thinking they have a chance.â She then continued after his next statement and pretended as if heâd flattered her and batted her eyelashes. While doing so, she continued to gaze at him without hinting that she was studying him.
Wulfric took on a slightly more somber countenance, and for a short moment, his intent seemed entirely serious. âWhether a chat, or something more, I do feel that I have to apologize that Your Highness has been made to wait.â A blink, and then followed a change in tune if not in tone. âEspecially when youâve not only had to comingle with such rabble, but come behind them,â he shook his head, and touched a palm to his chest, as if saddened and pained. However, it secretly amused him that she might feel slighted by this minor inconvenience, especially since it was one of her own making.
The range of emotion and body language from the eldest son revealed many things. First, he was well groomed and trained. The responsibilities and demands of being next in line werenât lost on Wulfric. While his other brothers may lack the grace and professionalism he had, Wulfric excelled. With the king sitting behind them a fair distance away, she knew the pressure was on him and not her. Second, he was challenging her and he seemed to adapt to doing so. He was on the same intellectual level and it was a relief to find someone who was. Third⌠Mayet had also danced with him, and the two seemed to get on fair. This wasnât something Layla would forget. She continued studying and listening to him with a cold amusement.
After a quick, slyly assessing look from under his lashes, Wulfric added, âSuch an unfortunate occasion when commoners advance ahead of royalty, wouldnât you say?â He paused for effect, then continued. âWell, since you were looking forward to this so much, you could have the unique opportunity to be the first â and only one â to have your pick of one of us, if you so wish.â The prince looked at her, subtly challenging, and wondered if sheâd simply leave, or choose to snub him and go to one of his brothers instead.
âIt is a tragedy to be amongst the rabble, you are correct. Had I needed to wait more, I might have fed them to Zilal. These poor commoners came with their hopes and dreams, only to have them crushed beneath their feet.â Layla feigned sympathy and mockingly frowned as if sheâd cared. Then, she let it drop, and focused intently on Wulfric, and her cold amusement returned once more. His challenge delighted her and she took her time pondering it. She placed a hand on her cheek and glanced up as if it were an intense decision.
âAnd to leave you to mingle with the rabble and to have to wait? We all know you wonât find another diamond amongst the rough.â Layla stared at him as if heâd upset her now, though there was a smirk hidden beneath it. Though she didnât look back, she indiciated it with a tilt of her head. She waved her hand away as if the idea were a bothersome fly and now allowed the hint of a sly smirk poke through. âWulfric, you wound me.â
Wulfric found himself watched, and returned it with keen, yet indirect observation of his own. His challenge was being met, which pleased him. Here, then, was the kind of opponent he might look forward to matching wits with. Superficially, Layla was similar to him in a few ways. Watchful, crafty, seeking to be entertainedâŚHe wondered idly what heâd find if he dug deeper. Humiliation would be one weapon to use against her, for she did not suffer it easily. He recalled how she and Mayet both had reacted with outrage during the fiasco at the ball. For that thoughtless behavior, they had been scolded by their father. The way they reacted to indignity was alike to the Vizierâs. The trio was similarly sensitive â or perhaps, volatile was the better descriptor. They all were far too self-important, as well. It was curious then, that while Wulfric felt only dismissive disdain for their uncle, he was willing to be more tolerant of the Shehzadisâ quirks.
âShould I consider myself fortunate, then, that I neednât have bothered with any sifting, and you sought me out instead?â He offered her a little grin, as if in shared understanding of how obviously the answer was âyesâ. All while poking her with the idea that she was just so very interested in him, something they both knew to be untrue.
At her last remark, he smiled with fake sweetness. âAh, my apologies, Layla.â Though it sounded convincing enough, the concession was a false one. All part of their little game, of course. More to the point, heâd used her given name. He generally preferred to include titles, but since sheâd taken her own permission to be so familiar with him, he had no issue reciprocating. âI am glad that you are so eager,â he allowed his lips to curl just like hers had.
Layla could feel his gaze burning into her and decided not to acknowledge it. They had one anotherâs attention and it would not easily be torn apart. A haughty smirk remained painted over her lips. They matched wits and tendencies, though their differences were overcast. While the eldest Prince continued to speak, Layla listened intently. Unfortunately, a ringing in her ears began and thus, she clutched the edge of the chair out of Wulfricâs line of vision. His statement, though lightly troublesome to hear, caused her to snicker. She didnât bother responding to it.
Though she wouldnât admit it out loud, she was impressed. The fake sweetness was as if sheâd been staring in a mirror. Layla knew sheâd met her match and managed a quick grin, then it disappeared. âWell, Wulfric,â Her voice dripped with similar sweetness, mixed with venom, âwould have been a shame for you to sit here all by yourself, no?â
At that, an incredulous laugh escaped the princeâs lips. âOhâŚLayla.â He had almost called her by her title again, but his lingering chuckle gave him enough leave to correct to her given name. âWhat a marvelous sense of humour you have,â he stated dryly. He couldnât help slowly shaking his head in disbelief at the ridiculousness of her sentence. He laid his head upon his palm, surveying her with amusement. âHave you any idea how many want me? Think they can have me?â Dead or alive, he mused to himself darkly as he watched her with a glint in his eye. Though his question had been rhetorical, Wulfric nonetheless provided the answer. âFar, far too many.â
Languidly, he continued with the previous line of conversation. âSpeaking of diamonds in the rough,â he said, ignoring that the Shehzadi had altered the conventional phrasing of the idiom to suit her own purposes. âYou do, I note, give yourself far too little credit,â he lied smoothly. âWhat use would someone with your shine have for a backdrop like that?â The prince mimicked Laylaâs head tilt with a brief glance towards the crowd behind her.
âI would like to know if there is someone who would claim that you lack polish.â He had considered adding how it might be futile to appeal to someone like that, to tease at the idea of how she was trying so hard to be noticed. However, he stopped as he saw her stare, and picked up his head from where heâd put it on his hand before. Tilting his chin, he wondered if heâd unexpectedly hit the mark, or if it was something else.
The ringing began growing with intensity, so she continued to focus harder on the conversation. Her heart began racing. Whether he sensed it or not, Zilal rested his head on her shoulder, a similar act he would do when he could tell she was becoming unwell. Layla focused more intently, perhaps her gaze became more intense. The familiar throbbing in her head caused her a quick scowl before it, too, disappeared behind the veil of arrogance and superiority.
Wulfric played with the idea of engaging in a silent staring match, but his focus shifted on Zilal, who had moved. He eyed the king cobra, curled as it was around the chair and the womanâs shoulders. âA wonderful companion that you have, as well. Potently venomous, hm?â He smiled faintly, and redirected his gaze to Layla. âCould he really swallow a human whole?â he asked, doubtful, yet with genuine interest. âI would have thought you might have to chop them up first. For ease of digestion,â he said with easy viciousness. Partly, because he was somewhat curious. And partly, because he wished to gauge her level of inclination towards violence.
Finally, the Prince redirected his attention to her esteemed serpent. A genuine smile was hidden and she gazed down at her serpent. Despite this, Wulfricâs words forced her to focus harder on staying present. âHe is venomous, yes. A King Cobra bite will kill a human in thirty minutes and an elephant in a few hours.â Layla responded with a faint smile of her own once she met his gaze. The viciousness of his statements caused Layla to blink with surprise. He was charming, cunning and also colder than she had anticipated. Layla recovered quickly though, as not to allow her guard to drop too long.
âIt would be a shame to give that away, Wulfric.â Venom dripped from her voice, while wickedness entered her eyes. Whether it was savage pleasure at a memory, or the idea of it, she hadnât given it away. âWatching him hunt and kill his prey is quite entertaining though, especially when I give the command.â Layla finished and smirked at him. There was confidence in her voice and a gleam in her eyes. She hadnât indicated his type of prey, or preferred diet, though she felt comfortable enough sharing about his venom and how lethal it was. It was clear that while he seemed docile in public, she had been successful in training him⌠and may not have been afraid of using him, either, should the situation call for it.
âHow promising,â he flashed her a quick, small grin. âPerhaps, a demonstration sometime?â Something almost anticipatory shone in that crystalline gaze, but disappeared as soon as itâd appeared, gone with his next blink. âI am certainly more appreciative of the idea of a close animal companion such as ZilalâŚOr Nala,â he mused. âIs it a tradition of your royal family?â he questioned.
Layla smirked at this quick small grin, but didnât interrupt. His anticipatory gleam wasnât lost on her, despite how quick itâd appeared. At his commentary of a close animal companion, she chuckled. The ringing and headache intensified, so she kept her comments short. âPerhaps I could invite you to his next feeding,â Layla mused as she straightened up and continued. âAs for animal companions being tradition, it is indeed. We all have our own. Perhaps you should find yourself one - as charming and vicious as you. â She winked at him, though with a false sense of flirtation. The effort not to chuckle was becoming difficult, so she turned away and replaced it with her haughty smile.
Once standing, Layla turned back to Wulfric and bowed in the traditional Alidasht bow, though she didnât dip far enough. âIt was an honor and pleasure meeting you, Wulfric.â She straightened up and moved away, thus allowing a new desperate noblewoman or peasant to come sit with the male viper.