Rodiak

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{dress ♖}

_{D A M I E N E S T A T E | E V E N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :
Olivia @Potter , Anastasia @princess , Farim @Lava Alckon
M e n t i o n s :}

Zarai's unfocused gaze swept over the decorated yard of the Edwards estate. She spotted Anastasia chatting with Farim and birthday man Drake, Wulfric presenting a horse as a gift, and—Fritz—

Damn. She’d forgotten a birthday present!

“Sir Barrios, we must leave immediately and find a gift for Lord Drake!” She pushed her chair back to stand, only for the knight’s gloved hand to halt her mid-rise.

“Her Grace sent a birthday present this morning. She did not wish you to trouble yourself.”

"How unpredictably thoughtful of her,” Zarai muttered under her breath, catching the sharp glint of warning in his eyes before she sighed and sank back into her seat.

With nothing else to occupy her but the wait for food, Zarai’s gaze wandered across the scene again, though her mind began to drift elsewhere. Memories of the night before—of Olivia and Charlotte’s bright, laughing faces, of the perfectly roasted turkey leg she had enjoyed—began to cloud. Those once-joyous images were now tainted, dark tendrils creeping in, twisting and wrapping around them like thorned vines. The thorns punctured her thoughts, turning warmth and laughter into something ominous, injecting each memory with shadows.

_Clink

”Good morning Ms. Rai! Is this table full?” A familiar voice broke through the surface of her thoughts, pulling her back to reality.

Zarai blinked, her eyes refocusing as Olivia approached the table. The darkness receded instantly, retreating like slithering shadows back into the corners of her mind, leaving behind half-faded memories. A smile lit her face as she met Olivia’s gaze.

“Good morning, Miss Livy! Sit next to me.” She patted the empty chair beside her with enthusiasm. “I’ve already ordered food, if you don’t mind sharing with Sir Barrios and me.”

As Olivia sat down, Zarai scooted closer with a conspiratorial grin, leaning in to whisper, “Did you enjoy yourself yesterday? It was the most fun I’ve had in months. I couldn’t sleep a wink from all the food we ate!”

”The party is here! How are you fine ladies doing today?”

“Oh!” Zarai rose from her seat, slower than usual, and curtsied gracefully toward the newcomers. “Mi princesita and…” Her gaze flicked over Farim, sizing him up with playful scrutiny before a wide grin broke across her face. “Farim Hafiz Kadir,” she said with mock seriousness, then broke into a laugh. “Nice to meet you! Wow, you and your cousins are all so pretty!”

She sat back down with the subtle aid of Sir Barrios, motioning for Anastasia and Farim to join them with an eager smile. “Have you two had the pleasure of meeting Miss Olivia?"

What Are You Listening To?

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{dress ♛ hair ♛}

<sub>D A M I E N E S T A T E || M O R N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :

M e n t i o n s :</sub>

From the moment Nahir awoke, something felt off. Her arms ached as if she had spent the night lifting rocks, and her legs dragged with every step. The steaming hot bath she took helped to ease some of her stiffness and fatigue, but she still felt as though she was moving at a different pace from the rest of the world.

Lady Miha and Lady Suhasini bustled around her, frantically preparing her for Lord Drake’s birthday soiree. Nahir had instructed Ece to organize a suitable gift for the lordling that morning: a crate filled with Alidashtian animal pelts, gold, and an assortment of spices and tobacco. It wasn’t a personal gift, as she didn’t know Lord Drake Edwards well, but it was substantial enough to leave a lasting impression on both the birthday man and his family.

When Nahir and Ece arrived at the Edwards estate, she graciously accepted the gifted bracelet, passing it to Ece for safekeeping. She offered her greetings to both Lady and Lord Edwards, adhering to the proper etiquette as per Caesonian customs, and did the same for Drake before excusing herself to find her designated table.

Once seated, Nahir observed the mingling nobles and royals, her gaze drifting over the crowd. Lady Charlotte wore a simple but lovely dress—something Nahir might have criticized on another occasion, but today she found herself appreciating the shade of blue. Beside Charlotte stood a man dressed in the most pink garment Nahir had ever seen, more pink than even Lord Smithwood's pink-washed skin the last time she’d encountered him—though she quickly dismissed that thought. Lorenzo wore his pink attire with unapologetic flair, easily making him the most vibrantly dressed man in attendance. His ensemble featured elegant designs that earned him a few brownie points in Nahir's eyes, but Leo still held the top spot as the pinkest man in Caesonia.

That seemed to be the extent of her energy for the moment. She leaned back in her chair, shoulders slightly hunched, and continued to observe the crowd with a detached curiosity.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{S I R R O D R I G O B A R R I O S
S I R R O D R I G O B A R R I O S}

_{E D W A R D S E S T A T E , B A C K Y A R D | 1 0 : 0 0 A M}

_____________________________________________________

Sir Barrios extended his hand to assist Lady Zarai as she stepped down from the carriage. He quickly raised a hand to shield the delicate fabric of her sage-green gown from the carriage’s dirty wheel. She hissed a quiet "thank you" as she carefully set foot on the cobblestone path leading to the Edwards’ gardens.

After gathering Zarai’s bracelet, their walk along the cobblestones to the garden was slow. Lady Zarai complained about her new shoes, which were a size too small and painfully tight. Sir Barrios couldn't fathom why someone of her status would endure such discomfort. The Lesdeman family, after all, had wealth beyond measure; they practically pissed gold.

To make matters worse, Lady Zarai showed no sign of propriety. Instead of paying her respects to their generous hosts and the birthday celebrant, she hobbled straight to her designated table and sat down. Without missing a beat, she flagged down one of the servants assigned to attend to her needs for the rest of the morning.

“Can we get…” Lady Zarai began, her tone light and seemingly inclusive, as if Sir Barrios would partake in the banquet she was about to order. But he knew better; this was her feast, and hers alone. “...and a plate of sorial salmon rolls. Oh, and can I get a mimosa with that, please? And some tea for my lovely knight here.” She closed the menu with a satisfied snap and set it aside. “Thank you, sir!” she added with a cheerful wave, dismissing the servant who hurried off to fulfill her lengthy order.

“Wow, look at this place. It’s so lovely! Gods, even the forks are so…” the lady picked up one of the delicate utensils, tilting it this way and that in the light, “…demure and mindful of the theme! It really is love…ly…” Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, her animated expression faltered.

Sir Barrios rolled his eyes subtly, his attention wandering. He knew that look—a fleeting glimpse of dissatisfaction. She was probably comparing these forks to the ones in her summer home, deeming them inferior. The momentary flicker of disdain in her eyes was as telling as if she’d voiced it aloud.

How pretentious.

He shifted his gaze to the crowd, scanning the clusters of noblemen and ladies. They mingled in their little groups, no doubt whispering about someone's choice of attire or dissecting the latest scandalous rumor. The social dynamics of these gatherings were as predictable as they were petty. Who was the current target of the ton’s gossip, the unlucky soul under the nobility’s relentless scrutiny today? Duchess Lesdeman had likely spared no expense to ensure her daughter stayed out of the papers this time. There hadn’t been a single mention of Lady Zarai or the scandalous incident involving her sudden outburst and two unsuspecting victims.

The more Sir Barrios thought about it, the more it seemed to him that Lady Zarai was unfit for her station, much less deserving of becoming the next Duchess of Brustad. The mere idea of it felt like an insult to the title.

“…Do you think I may have scared off August? I haven’t seen him since that morning. Or perhaps Wulfric has him locked away in some tower…” Lady Zarai mused, leaning back in her chair with a relaxed air. Her gaze drifted lazily over the new arrivals to the party, a slight smirk playing on her lips. “I suppose I wouldn’t want me as a sister-in-law either,” she added with a chuckle, her voice tinged with self-aware humor.

Sir Barrios raised an eyebrow. Her candidness often surprised him, her humor a sharp contrast to her usual airhead demeanor.

"Let’s leave as soon as we eat. I can’t wait to take off these shoes," Zarai continued, twirling a fork between her fingers with practiced grace. Her smile returned, but her eyes seemed distant, lost in thought.

Sir Barrios nodded, though more to himself than to her. He shifted his attention back to the crowd, silently contemplating the company he might have served instead of the woman seated before him.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{dress ♖}

_{A M U S E M E N T P A R K | E V E N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :
M e n t i o n s :}

“Your Grace, Lord Monet has arrived,”

Zarai tore her gaze from the wall and glanced back at her mother. The Duchess sat at her desk, surrounded by neatly organized piles of papers, books, and scrolls, each containing important business regarding the Brustad territory. These documents had always been alien to Zarai, sparking no interest just weeks before. But now, an insatiable curiosity gnawed at her, and her fingers ached to dive into the documents and devour their contents like a madwoman.

“Send him in, Zarai you can go.”

Zarai pushed herself up from the floor, her knees aching as she resisted the urge to limp out of the office. Just as she reached the door, it opened, and Lord Monet was ushered in. He smiled at her, revealing yellow-stained teeth from years of drinking coffee, or wine, or smoking. The stench of his breath made her nose curl in disgust.

She’d been mad to think she could actually marry him, even for a short time.

_______________________________________________________

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

Zarai had changed into a more suitable outfit that allowed her to move more freely: a white blouse with billowing puffy sleeves and fitted black breeches. Her hair was styled into two neat braids, tucked neatly at the back of her head. She didn't wish to draw attention tonight. She desired a quiet evening alone, with some entertainment and good food, and Sir Barrios discreetly tagging along from the shadows where she couldn't see him.

Fate had other things planned.

Miss Crane—Claudia—there she was, standing by a ticket line. Her chestnut hair was elegantly curled and wrapped around the back of her head down her back, adorned with twinkling pearls that caught the light. Zarai could see the gentle curve of Claudia’s soft cheek and how it plumped up when she smiled.

Roll.

Roll.

Claudia had an uncanny ability to lift Zarai's spirits, no matter the circumstances. Even after long, grueling hours in her mother’s office, Claudia would appear at just the right moment, armed with the perfect words to cheer her up. Despite the aches in her arms and knees, Zarai couldn’t help but smile in Claudia’s presence. A gentle kiss on her forehead, a warm hand holding hers, and a reassuring look in her eyes as she whispered that everything would be okay. Every whisper, every kiss, and every embrace and gesture made Zarai’s heart skip a beat.

Not this time.

This time, her heart didn’t skip. It sank. Sank down to the pit of her stomach, twisting her insides into a painful knot. It felt like she was going to be sick like she was falling endlessly with no sign of a landing. Gods, it was unbearable. Had she ever felt this way before?

Roll.

Roll.

There she was, Miss Crane, standing next to a man. Their arms intertwined so naturally that it seemed as if they had been together for years. She laughed at something he said, a laugh more genuine than any she had ever shared with Zarai over a funny drawing or a joke about someone’s poor taste in shoes.

Overwhelmed by a storm of emotions she couldn’t name, Zarai’s eyes became unfocused. Her shoulders felt heavy, her face burned, but her back was cold as ice. Her chest ached, and her heart raced so fiercely it could leap out of her chest and flee. Flee across the sea to Alidasht, across its deserts and jungles, and over another sea to Catalonia, where it would bury itself deep within a rainforest, far from the source of its pain.

Roll.

Roll.

Clink.

Zarai flinched as her thoughts were yanked back to reality. She looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sharp, clear sound, but found none. Her gaze returned to Claudia, who had just purchased her tickets and was now staring directly at her. The hand looped around the man’s arm loosened as her grip on the tickets tightened. Claudia's mouth moved, but the roar of children and adults and laughter around them drowned out her words.

Then Zarai looked at the man.

Clink.

She flinched again, either at the sound or at the sight of the man’s face.

There she was, Miss Crane, standing with Viscount Nielsen.

“Ha… ha… hahaha!” Zarai burst into laughter, pointing at them as she clutched her stomach. The aching in her chest was replaced by a searing rush that had only one way out. Miss Crane gasped and moved to stand in front of Viscount Nielsen, but he gently pushed her back and faced Zarai.

“Well, if it isn’t Puerto Vira’s biggest harlot–”

Zarai punched him square in the nose. He staggered back, stunned both by the audacity of the punch and its force.

“What do you think you are doi–”

She delivered another punch, this time to his stomach.

“You little piece of shit,” Zarai growled, her voice dripping with venom. “If I hear even a whisper of you saying my name, I will have your head. I don’t care if I have to pay someone to do it or if I have to do it myself; I will have it and display it for all of Varian to see what a low-life liar of the highest degree looks like. Bitch.” She spared a glance at Miss Crane, her brows furrowed and eyes brimming with tears. Without waiting for a reaction, Zarai shook her head and rushed away from the couple, leaving them stunned in her wake.

((please do not interact, collab coming. reactions are welcomed))

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Ariella _& Mathias

“Good morning, Miss Ari. Please, there is no need to apologize. You look lovely,” Mathias reassured her, offering a warm smile. Although, he did notice a leaf sticking out of her curls near her ear. It was cute, and it did quirk his interest in what she could have been doing before coming to the mixer. "And I completely understand feeling jittery. This is actually my first outing of this nature since... well, it's been a while," he added, hoping to alleviate some of Ari’s anxiety with his sincerity.

“Ah, may I? You have a leaf.” He pointed at his own ear where the leaf was in her hair. As she nodded he reached out and plucked it out of her hair with a soft chuckle. Ari’s face flushed red as she fixed her hair nervously, “ Sorry…I thought I had found them all…” she giggled, “Sneaky little guys,” she said softly.

Attempting to change the subject Ari adjusted her dress and cleared her throat, offering him a soft reassuring but unsure smile. “ I don't believe i’ve seen you at any of these events, have you attended one this season?” she asked curiously.

“Oh, no need to apologize at all,” Mathias replied, his smile gentle. “I think you got them all now.” He wasn’t so sure if he was making things better or worse. He felt like he was eighteen years old again in his first season. “As for these events, this is my first one this season. I’ve been putting them off but I thought it was time to step out and enjoy some socializing. How about you? Is this your first event?”

“Oh..no.” she said with a rather grim expression, “My mother makes me attend nearly every one of them. They aren't my favorite thing I'll admit. A Lot of painted faces so to speak…” she continued to smile nervously, “ I am glad about the people I have met though, I met a few Wonderful people so I guess it's not all that awful but I much rather be swimming in a lake or collecting interesting rocks from a creek bed lately I've really enjoyed forging the fields and wooded areas…a lot of lovely things grow around here. " She laughed lightly, “ I don't think many of the noble ladies would enjoy any of those things though.” she paused for a moment attempting to come up with her own questions. “Are you from some great nation traveling here? Or perhaps a social climber? Or maybe a knight perhaps? “ she clearly was slightly drunk still from the night before as her thoughts came stumbling out without much thought behind them.

“I can understand,” He smiled, watching her light up as she talked about the outdoors. “No, I wouldn’t know of many ladies who would enjoy getting dirt under their nails.” He laughed along with her. “ A knight,” He admitted with a nervous smile,Ariella’s eyes seemed to light up at his response. “My father is a lord in Varian from the outskirts of Breoven, and I’m the Captain of the Royal Guard. Currently on leave for the season,” “Captain?” she asked in a impressed tone. Mathias looked at her carefully, “Miss Ari, shall we order some food? I heard the coffee here is good, or are you more of a tea person?” “Oh! Hmm.” she paused for a moment to think, looking down at the small place card with food and drink options on it. “Coffee sounds wonderful” she smiled at him. “ Maybe some scones and jam to go with it?” she said pointing on the menu the morning options. “Homemade Scones and fresh made jam from the seasonal fruits of Sorian, perfect for sharing.” she read the description to him.

“Absolutely; I’ll add some poached eggs as well to make it a complete breakfast,” Mathias nodded with a smile. He set down the menu and scanned the room for the waitress, waving her over before returning his attention to Ari. “Miss Ari, if I may ask, what is your full name? I wouldn’t want to disrespect you by addressing you informally unless, of course, you prefer it.” Mathias was mindful of the different customs and traditions in Caesonia compared to Varian, especially regarding formalities and etiquette. He wanted to ensure he showed her the proper respect, both in the cafe and in any future encounters outside its walls.

Shrugging her shoulders “ Lady Ariella Edwards…” her nose scrunching as the words came from her lips. “But you can just call me Ariella… if you're comfortable with that, that is. I …” she caught her breath as she remembered he was a Captain of the Royal Guard. “Unless …do The Royal Guards have strict roles on how they address others? I wouldn't want to request anything that may cause an issue… Lady Edwards is fine as well.” Her nose was slightly scrunching again but it was quickly replaced with a smile.

Ah. The wrinkling in her nose caught Mathias off guard, and he had to cough to stifle a chuckle. “There is no protocol to follow when a knight is off duty,” Mathias said quickly so as not to cause her any more trouble, a hand waving off her worries. “And I wouldn’t want to slight your character,” He was unaccustomed to calling a lady by her first name without a title as everyone adhered to more strict protocols and roles inside the castle. A side effect of being part of the Royal Guard. “Ariella, when it's only us two,” he offered, and Ari’s face lit up with a smile in response. “Lady Edwards everywhere else, how does that sound?”

“So, Ariella, what are your hobbies?” Mathias wanted to keep things light and casual. “ Well…” she took a nervous breath, adjusting herself in her seat. Should I tell him of my real interests… “ My mother made sure I was trained in alot of things…singing, needle work, Running a household…” she attempted to list off all the boring and trivial things her mother had made her do as a child. “But what I really enjoy is the outdoors. Prefer it actually.” she smiled “ I have this beautiful garden that i’ve built into a bit of a sanctuary. I spent most if not all my time there when I’m not being dragged around to events.” she paused trying to come up with more. “ Reading,Botany…I really like studying up on plants and the different things they can do for us. “ she caught herself before rambling on about how many interesting plants she had found around the woods and surprisingly how many of them are actually poisonous. “What about yourself? Being the Captian of the Royal Gaurd i’d imagine you wouldn’t get much time off.”

In the midst of their intriguing conversation, Mathias leaned in with a warm smile, intrigued by the woman's unique interests. It was evident that she had little regard for the societal norms and expectations placed upon ladies her age, and she made no attempt to conceal her disinterest. “What are your favorite flowers or plants? Do you study mushrooms as well?” “Lavender” she said with a bright smile. “Not only is it beautiful and smells wonderful but it offers so many benefits…” she paused “ Mushrooms…Would it be cliche to say Death Caps. I’ve found some amongst the brush along the woods. They are so interesting, they take on the shape of a simple fungi looking like so many edible ones yet this one would certainly lead to someone's death if consumed.” She took a sip on her tea, thinking maybe she had shared a little to much.

"Being a Captain is admittedly more demanding than being a soldier," Mathias acknowledged with a slight shrug. "There's a mountain of paperwork, and training requires meticulous attention to detail. Our busiest period coincides with the spring and summer months when new recruits undergo intensive training. And yes, I must admit that leaves me with limited time off. Something my son seems to lament.”

A son? Ariella perked up. “ You have a son?” she smiled “ How do you manage it all? A father, Captain of the guard…I can barely manage to make it through an afternoon of tea cakes and pleasantries.” She leaned back against the chair, taking another sip of her tea. “How old is your son?...I don’t want to push you if you're not comfortable talking of him.” she quickly added.

Mathias’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he saw Ariella perk up. “He’ll be turning five later this year,” he said, his voice swelling with pride for Lukas. “He’s the perfect little gentleman—attends his lessons without protest and is well-behaved, so there’s not much to manage there.” Lukas had inherited his mother’s curiosity and eagerness to learn, traits that Mathias treasured in the boy.

He scratched his neck, a smile playing on his lips. “Would you consider an afternoon of tea, cakes, and botany more fitting to your tastes?”

Mid sip of her tea Ariella paused for a moment before slowly put the cup back onto the saucer curious if he would consider himself apart of that request. “ Yes!” she smiled brightly “More simply suggested, a picnic setting would be much nicer.” she remembered her shoeless feet in that moment, tucking them under the hem of her skirt hoping he had not noticed. “ Although, not something I could see happening” she said slightly disappointed “ Many of the ladies here would likely protest at the prospect of their dresses getting dirty, Where as I am disappointed there isn’t more dirt” she joked giggling nervously as she reached for her tea again. “I’m sorry I’m…not very good at these events.”

“Oh, a picnic would be most welcomed,” Mathias nodded, picking up his own tea to sip. “Yes, but I am not asking the other ladies, I am asking you. And if you prefer to feel closer to nature, may I suggest foraging instead?” He’d done so in the past with his mother during her days off. She would disguise their outings to the woods as a fun trip. Years later after her passing, he’d realized they’d been foraging for anything they could eat for the next week or so. He shook his head at her last statement, he really did not mind, and in return, he hoped she didn’t either. It seemed like they both struggled in these sorts of events. Her for her disinterest and him, for lack of attendance. “Really, there is no need to apologize Ariella.”

But I am not asking the other ladies, I am asking you Nearly spitting out her tea, Ariella adjusted herself in her seat as the smile that adorned her face could not be hidden as much as she tried. She set the tea cup down before attempting to string together words. “ No one has suggested or asked me before. “ she studdered slightly “Just surprised…pleasently surprised” she smiled. “Foraging is one of my favorite things to do!” Attempting to calm her excitement, Ariella nodded before casually fluffing out the hem of her skirt. “That sounds like a wonderful afternoon. You could bring your son if you wish…I dont want to suggest anything too forward but with you only being able to see him for limited amount of time it wouldn’t be any bother for me.” She offered another reassuring smile.

Mathias smiled, taking another sip of his tea before setting the cup back on the table. He leaned in slightly, “I’m quite surprised no one has asked you yet. Who would miss such a grand opportunity to spend a day with a lovely lady surrounded by nature? I suppose I am lucky to be the first to suggest it.”

“Color me pleasantly surprised, too,” he couldn’t help but smile at her suggestion. ” If you don’t mind, I’ll plan it out and inform you a day later on. This is on my invitation.” He smiled again, but this time he let some of his own excitement show.

“I looked forward too it” she smiled before standing up in her seat. “It was really nice to meet you, refreshing actually. Normally I find these things rather terrifying but you made it much easier to handle.” she did a slightly curtsey, her barefeet peeking out from the hem of her dress covered with red paint.

Mathias rose to his feet, echoing her curtsy with a bow. “The pleasure was entirely mine, Ariella.” he said, his smile broadening. “It’s not every day one meets someone as refreshing and delightful as you.”
His gaze fell to her bare feet, peeking out from the hem of her dress, stained with red paint. He gestured towards the door. “Why don’t you take my carriage? I insist. The floor is still wet outside, and I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.” Offering his arm with a gentlemanly flourish, he said, “Allow me to escort you.”

Slightly hesitant she smiled and nodded accepting his arm “ Thank you, I think I can say it was also refreshing and delightful to meet you aswell. I really am looking forward to our picnic.” She attempted to hide her smile but it had failed.

Walking towards the carriage she stopped by the door releasing her arm from his “Well, I suppose I will head home, My mother will likely be upset… So I guess it would be best not to worry her anymore. She’s not a fan of my hobbies” she shrugged softly as she clasped her hands infront of her dress. “It really was a refreshing day, I didn’t know what to expect but I am glad I came.”

”Have a good rest of your day, Ariella.” Mathias opened up the carriage door, held out his hand for her to climb in and bowed before closing the door. He waved at her through the small window and signaled the driver, ”To the Edwards estate.” He watched the carriage until it turned a corner, a soft smile on his lips, only interrupted by his stomach's protest at the lack of food.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{dress ♛ hair ♛}

_{P R I M I T U S C H U R C H , M O R N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :
@princess@Potter@SilverPaw
M e n t i o n s :}

“Marhaba,” Nahir greeted Farim with somewhat genuine warmth, her smile lighting up her features. “Of course, we can catch up; I’d love to hear of your own exploits as well.” Her eyes briefly flickered to Anastasia as she respectfully bowed her head to the princess, a small gesture of acknowledgment before they settled into their seats.

“Always, Shehzade,” Ece replied, her cheeks flushing slightly as she bowed her head and followed Nahir to their places.

Nahir nodded politely to Count Calbert and Count Monet as they passed, offering them a friendly smile before turning her attention back to Anastasia.

“Oh, wow! Nahir! You look stunning! And so do you, Ece. You're so cute. Please come sit with me,”

"Thank you, Princess; you look stunning yourself. That color suits you perfectly." Nahir smiled warmly at Anastasia as she settled into her seat beside her. "This is my first time here at the church, and it looks quite lovely." Her gaze drifted to the very large portrait of King Edin in the middle, the only element that detracted from the overall grandeur of the church. And quite a big sore eye now standing a lot closer to it."The few times I've visited, I couldn't attend any church services, so I'm excited to see your religious ceremony.."

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The sound of heels against marble echoes around the grand church. Nahir turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of a woman making her way directly toward them, a newcomer to their growing group. Beside her, Ece recognized the subtle shift and straightened in her seat, poised and prepared for whatever might transpire.

“Princess Anastasia, Count Damien, and dare I say, the Shehzadi and Shahzade?... May I sit with your Highnesses, please? Also, my name is Kira - Kira Lockhart.”

As expected, the woman approached with a confidence that teetered between arrogance and foolishness. Ece rose from her seat and positioned herself slightly between the group of royals and the stranger. Nahir observed her closely, intrigued by something beneath the surface of Kira Lockhart's outward demeanor. The accent sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place where she had heard it before. However, before she could comment, Prince Wulfric made his entrance.

As Prince Wulfric arrived, Nahir greeted him warmly, bowing her head. “Prince Wulfric,” she acknowledged. Ece followed suit with a nod of her own. Wulfric then continued to greet the other royals and nobles before turning to look at their new and unwelcome acquaintance.

Nahir did a once over her, silently judging her attire before smirking up at Kira. "Why don’t you sit behind us? Ah, the pew is full. Two rows down sounds good does it not? Ece here will join you," she suggested, her tone polite but firm. It was clear that Wulfric would not allow Kira to sit with them, but Nahir saw no harm in her sitting nearby. "We can talk after the service, which I think will start soon." She hoped Kira would take the following minutes to reflect on her approach and adjust her demeanor accordingly.

Ece motioned for Kira to go ahead of her, a tight smile on her lips.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

<sub>♖ the fit ♖

D A M I E N E S T A T E | E V E N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :
@Tpartywithzombi
M e n t i o n s :</sub>

Mathias blinked, the light flooding his eyes as he stirred from his sleep. Groggily, he tried to turn over and continue sleeping, but something felt off. His gaze fell on the sight of a woman's arms wrapped around his bare waist, her red hair cascading over her face and shoulder. Confusion clouded his mind as he glanced around, noticing a man with sun-kissed skin and curls on his cheeks beside the bed.

Memories of the previous night came back foggy— the drinks, the kisses, the indulgent feast. His stomach churned at the thought of food, and he felt a pang of guilt for his overindulgence. Despite his headache and poor coordination, Mathias managed to extract himself from the woman's embrace and carefully made his way to the edge of the bed.

With a sense of urgency, he hastily dressed, being careful not to disturb the sleeping figures. He placed a small blue velvet pouch by the nightstand, containing coins that jingled softly. As he gathered the rest of his belongings—a blazer, shoes, and a bowtie—he glanced back at the room, leaving behind a blue mask. Mathias then exited the room as quietly as possible, the events of the night before still a blur in his mind.

꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏

After hastily leaving the red district, Mathias hurried back to the guest house with just enough time to bathe and change into whatever attire his valet had laid out for him. Regrettably, he had not informed poor Mr. Wagner about the mixer, so his clothes were a touch too informal for the occasion. This oversight only added to the growing pit in his stomach, which intensified as he entered the Blossom Caffe.

Greeted by Mingyu with a bright smile, Mathias was swiftly briefed on the courting event before being handed a piece of paper and ushered past. Adjusting his cufflinks for the third time, he glanced down at the paper in his hand. Number one. He looked about the room, searching for his table, luckily he didn’t have to look for long. There was the number one staring at him along with a woman. Seated there was a woman with a crown of red hair framing striking green eyes that pulled a smile to Mathias's face as he approached.

With a polite bow of his head, he took his seat across from her. "I am Sir Mathias Larsen. It is a pleasure to share this event with you, my lady," he greeted warmly.

_{dress ♛ hair ♛}

_{P R I M I T U S C H U R C H , M O R N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :
@princess@Lava Alckon
M e n t i o n s :}

Last Night

Nahir stood outside Layla’s door, Lady Suhasini by her side, bearing a tray laden with delicacies. Dried dates, sweet treats, and strong tea adorned the tray, along with a pastry she knew Layla favored. She knocked, the sound echoing faintly in the corridor, but there was no answer. With a graceful movement, Nahir retrieved a small, neatly folded paper from her robe pocket and placed it on the tray. The paper bore Layla's name in her meticulous handwriting.

<sub>‘Dear Sister,

I heard from the servants at the Damien Estate that you left the ball early. Concerned, I came to check on you, but it seems you are not receiving visitors at the moment. Please enjoy the snacks I’ve brought, and if you need company, do not hesitate to call me. I wish to repay your kindness.

Your sister, Nahir’</sub>

Lady Suhasini set the tray on the ground in front of the door, and Nahir glanced once more at the door before sighing and turning to leave.

________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐________________

“It is truly magnificent,” Nahir remarked, as they both entered the church. The outside facade was nothing like what she was used to, and during her short visit to Caesonia, she'd never seen the church this close.

She looked ahead, and Nahir's gaze flicked towards Princess Anastasia and Farim. Ready to study them both carefully. However, her attention was swiftly stolen by the breathtaking beauty of the architecture.

”The soaring ceilings, the graceful arches, the stained glass windows– all of it is simply breathtaking.” Her eyes, alight with a subtle fascination, traced the patterns of light cast by the colorful windows, then lifted to admire where the arches met the ceiling in a symphony of grandeur. While very few could compare to the mosques and temples back home with their symmetrical and colorful designs, Nahir would not deny the beauty of the church. It filled her with a sense of nostalgia, a welcomed feeling after days apart from the familiarity of Alidasht.

Beside her, Ece stood statuesque, her arms folded behind her back. She had just relayed the events of the previous night in whispers of their native tongue. Real, undeniable magic that Ece had witnessed firsthand, yet Nahir appeared unfazed, enraptured instead by the play of light and shadow.

“Relax; I can see the tension in your jaw,” Nahir murmured, her voice barely audible over the choir’s melodic singing and whispers. Their voices resonated through the vast church hall, filling the space with heavenly gossip. “Don't worry.”

"My lady–"

Nahir silenced Ece with a gentle touch on her shoulder. "We mustn’t discuss such matters in the presence of their gods," she said softly. "Our purpose is to immerse ourselves in the sights, the culture, and the people. Who knows what the future holds?” She shot Ece a knowing smile.

"Inshallah" Ece sighed, conceding to Nahir's redirection of the conversation. For now. She had noticed the spark in Nahir's eyes when she spoke of the woman with the wolf, far more intrigued by her than Farim or Munir’s antics at the evening's event.

"Come, we'll sit with my cousin." Nahir led them behind Anastasia and Farim, giving them both a greeting smile as they took their seat.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Wulfric & Zarai Part 2

The 23rd of Sola, at night: After the masquerade

---

---

WARNING:

The following segment involves Wulfric and Zarai reading a terrible erotica. You have been warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We spent the night together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{dress ♖ hair ♖}

_{D A M I E N E S T A T E | E V E N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s :
John, @Conscripts
M e n t i o n s :}

“Mama, you are making a fuzz out of nothing.”

“Nonsense! I wish for you to look perfect today, who knows? You might find a husband this morning.”

“You think so? Oh, I really do hope so! It’d be wonderful to run my own estate. I would finally be able to host on own dinner parties and balls!”

“Oh honey, I am sure you will do great. Now, let me fix your hair. You’ve got some a cowlick.”

Zarai watched the two women laugh and smile at one another. The older woman gently smoothed out her daughter’s hair, ensuring no hair was out of place. The daughter smiled and laughed when her mother said something else only the two could hear—perhaps an inside joke or a playful tease about her hair. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her own mother.

Duchess Francesca watched her with blue icy eyes that made her feel as if she were standing under a waterfall. “Don’t speak too loud, smile, and nod. Do not mention anything unseemly, and keep your opinions to yourself. No respectable man wishes to hear a woman speak of politics,” her mother said. She reached out to fix Zarai’s sleeve, but her daughter pulled back and fixed it herself.

“Yes, mother.” Zarai nodded politely, eyes down. "Shall I not speak at all, then? Perhaps some Duke or Count fancies mute girls—” She winced when sharp nails dug into her underarms as her mother pretended to fix her sleeve. “Fine!” she hissed.

“This is exactly what I am referring to,” Francesca huffed, pulling her arm back and putting on that sweet smile again. “Don’t embarrass me; Gods know you’ve done that so many times already. And for your sake, do not stuff your face with food. Any more of it and your dress will burst at the seams.”

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

Zarai stared down at the number 5 scribbled on the small piece of paper. She shot Mingyu one last smile as she walked past and toward her designated table. Despite her initial reservations about the event, Zarai couldn't help but feel a sense of thrill at finally being at Blossom Caffe. It was her first time setting foot in the place, and for as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of visiting. The exterior of the building was a sight to behold, its beautiful facade promising an evening of elegance and sophistication. Every time Zarai had peeked inside, she had caught glimpses of graceful ladies sipping from dainty cups and indulging in culinary delights that could be described as art. She had often imagined herself among them, adorned in a fancy hat and delicate lace gloves, exuding an air of refinement and charm that she did not possess.

Now, she was finally here, not by choice but to fulfill her social obligations. Determined not to let that bring her spirits down, Zarai was to make the most of the morning, even if it meant entertaining a randomly selected date. It was another opportunity to meet potential suitors, something she had been considering more seriously lately, despite her very limited list of prospects.

As she sniffed the air, the aroma of the pastries and delicious food drew a growl from her empty stomach. She did not care if her Sir Barrios was outside watching her from the windows; he wouldn’t barge in if she dared to eat. It would be impolite not to indulge, considering the effort the cafe and the royal family had put into the event. With a playful smile, she decided to fully appreciate any of the culinary delights that would be presented before her.

Zarai only hoped not to see him here. She had avoided talking to him for days, and by some stroke of luck, she had managed to keep her distance. She wished to continue this for a few more days, at least until she felt more prepared to face him.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost forgot her surroundings until an unfamiliar figure caught her eye. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched him approach. Handsome and well-groomed, he seemed different from the typical snobby nobles she was accustomed to encountering. It was a welcome sight, and she felt a glimmer of hope that this evening might not be as tedious as she had anticipated.

Zarai put on a smile and waited to greet her date.