Rodiak

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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______________________________________	__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ L A D Y Z A R A I L E S D E M A N L A D Y Z A R A I L E S D E M A N ♖ o u t f i t ♖ -- E N T R A N C E H A L L -- I N T E R A C T I O N S : M E N T I O N S :

Francesca had not slept since she realized Zarai had slipped away at night. She'd search the guest house, the royal palace, and streets before one of the guards informed her of the situation. She'd paced the halls, gnawing on her nails nervously as her mind raced through the many possibilities of what could be or may be happening to her daughter. Francesca didn't say a word nor accept any of the coffee the servants offered her, afraid she would crack if she were to mutter even a word. It was well into the night when the missing children were brought in.

The Duchess had rushed to the guard who had carried her daughter's battered body into the royal infirmary. Upon seeing the state of Zarai, Francesca stared while the man gently placed her on the bed. She watched as nurses rushed around the room to tend to everyone needing immediate attention, Zarai being one of them. Upon examination, one of the doctors confirmed his suspicion of a fractured rib and a mild concussion being the worst that Zarai had sustained. Her lip had been cut, her neck and knuckles bruised, and she had a few other minor cuts over her body that Francesca had not been able to see. Blood, vile, and dirt were cleaned off Zarai, and when all the wounds were tended to, she was changed into a sleeping gown. Ice was also brought in from the ice boxes, pressed against the swelling flesh, and salves were rubbed.

"Que desperdicio." Francesca looked down at the discolored face of her daughter, next to her the nurse frowned but said nothing. "You can leave now; I'll hold the cold press." The nurse glanced at her uncertainly but nodded, afraid she would upset the Duchess and left.

She stayed there, sitting next to Zarai's sleeping body staring at every bruise and cut on her face. Francesca's hands shook as the pressure in her chest grew stronger until it spread to her back and stomach. Her mind already running through various resources at her hand to find out who had done this to Zarai. The first step was finding out who had orchestrated this so-called after-party and who had attended.

—

She had been trying to roll on her side but the sharp stinging pain that rippled from her sides over her body echoed through every nerve. Zarai gasped, hands flying to her side to try to do anything to help the pain but the movement only worsened it. Once it had subsided from her sides, she noticed the numbness of her face. She reached up, touching her face lightly only to recoil with a hiss at the pain. What had happened last time? What had she done to wind up like this? And who had been the one to do this, to her face?!

Next to her a figure moved and sat up, Zarai quickly closed her eyes again and laid still.

"Don't act."

Zarai sighed and opened an eye to look at her mother staring down at her. A shiver ran down her spine seeing the lack of emotion on her mother's face. She'd grown so accustomed to seeing anger and disappointment in her features that Zarai was almost disappointed herself when she saw nothing.

"Get up, we have to go to the hall."

Zarai didn't move, which only seemed to annoy her mother. She opened her mouth to talk but she could only make incomprehensible sounds, making her finally sit up. "You're—" Clearing her throat felt like taking a shot of sand, "You're not... not going to ask me what happened?" Of course, she didn't remember much. Nothing of importance, as a matter of fact, anything she could remember was covered by a layer of fog. There was a crowd, a ring, fists, and insults. It all meant nothing to Zarai at the moment, just fragments of memories that did not feel her own.

Commotion erupted a few beds over, and Zarai caught the glimpse of King Edin bolting out the door, eyes lining up directly with a mirror in front of her bed. Before she could really look at the damage she had sustained her mother stepped in front, staring down at her with the same blank stare.

"Get up." Francesca said again, this time her tone firm but Zarai only stared back. Her mother sighed and raised her hand towards her, making Zarai brace herself and close her eyes. Zarai opened her eyes when she felt the warmth of her mother's hand on her cheek. "We should hurry, almost everyone is awake and in the Entrance Hall."

What was going on? Why is she acting like this? Questions kept running through her mind, one after the other trying to ascertain why her mother was acting so... normal? Zarai did as she was told and got up, clutching her side and swallowing down a wince. The questions only grew in confusion when her mother draped a shawl over her shoulders and offered her hand for support while she sat on the offered wheelchair. Zarai had to bite the inside of her cheek to make sure she was not dreaming. She was not.

"Why is everyone meeting at the Entrance Hall?" Zarai asked once they exited the infirmary. She pressed a cold rag to her face, closing her eyes at the coolness against her warm face.

"Queen Alibeth and King Edin requested it." Francesca replied and continued to push the wheelchair down the hall.

"Oh." She replied, lowering the rag to her palm and trying to steal a glance of her battered face from the windows to the left. "Is everyone going to be there?" Her mother didn't respond, so Zarai tried to ignore the growing headache.

They joined the rest of the nobles in the Entrance Hall a short walk after. Her mother pushed the chair towards the crowd of young nobles that had attended the after-party. Zarai looked at Anastasia and Callum first, wondering if their mother had already given them a lecture before coming here. Then it was Leo, who was not wearing any shoes. If it wasn't painful to laugh, she would have already, so she settled with an amused look shot in his direction.

What Are You Listening To?

_{T A B L E F O R T W O
T A B L E F O R T W O}

_{- Efé}

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🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

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______________________________________	__________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ L A D Y Z A R A I L E S D E M A N L A D Y Z A R A I L E S D E M A N ♖ o u t f i t ♖ -- M A R E K ' S A F T E R P A R T Y -- I N T E R A C T I O N S : M E N T I O N S :

Zarai began to sneak out of her room at night when she was twelve. She'd stay within the estate borders and often wonder about her home's large empty halls. Her bare feet silent against the wooden floors like a ghost roaming the halls. She enjoyed the quiet and stillness of the halls during the night. There was something peaceful about it, being the only one awake at this hour. Like it was just her existing. Alone. It wouldn't take long for her to find her feet carrying her out to the pond in the gardens. Despite Puerto Vira's warmer weather, the air remained cold and harsh during the night much like the rest of Varian.
_{"Should we wake her? She's burning."}
Tonight was colder than usual. The fireplace in her room had been fed enough wood to keep her room warm and toasty throughout the night and her maid had aired out a few furs for her that morning. She'd seen frost forming on the edges of her room's window before she snuck out wearing only her nightgown. She didn't understand why she had chosen tonight to sneak out, she could have very well stayed in bed sleeping under a bear's fur instead of being greeted by the biting wind when she stepped outside.

_{"Duh, you idiot! But you do it, she's all covered in— of fuck she stinks."}

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, fingers digging into the thin fabric of her nightgown as she approached the pond. With only the light from the full moon illuminating her surroundings, Zarai stared down at her reflection. Blue eyes, blonde hair, narrow nose, and full lips. The spitting image of her mother. People would always compliment her resemblance to her mother, telling the twelve-year-old that she'd grow up one day and be just like her.
_{"Oh gods, it's in her hair too."}
Zarai had been happy to hear those words. Her mother was the most beautiful and kindest person she'd ever met and if Zarai would one day grow up to be like her it would be like a dream come true. And yet, why did her mother always look at her with a glint in her eyes and empty smiles? She had convinced herself that it was her imagination, and would feel guilty after imagining such things about her mother. The glares, the comments, and the harsh criticism all of it was in her head. Her mother loved her, Zarai was sure, in her own unique way.

_{"Is... is she crying?"}

Her cheeks felt wet and cold, and her vision blurred with the tears now free-falling to the dirt underneath her. She didn't try to stop them. She let her arms fall to her sides and her shoulders relaxed before letting out a sob. It felt freeing to let go and finally let herself cry without fear of upsetting her father. She didn't have to be perfect right now, she could just cry and let it out. Let everything be swallowed up by the cold winds and the dark of night.

_{"Yeah, maybe a dream? What ever it is we should wake her up. Party won't last all night."}

A branch snapped behind her. Zarai wiped back afraid to have finally been discovered but only turned to see one of the cats running past the bushes. She returned her attention to the still water before her only to see her reflection extending a hand to her. Zarai didn't jump back nor did she make a sound, she only stared at the hand.
_{"Okay, uh... Luz right? She said that was her name. Luz? Wake up!"}
Her reflection called but its mouth didn't move. The voice was muffled like they were speaking from another room but it was clear enough to recognize what it was saying. Wake up? Zarai's brows furrowed, she was awake.

_{"Luz? Can you hear us? Wake up!"}

She looked around trying to find the source but it seemed like it was coming from all around her. It was clearer now and louder than before. She opened her mouth to ask who it was that was messing with her. Demand that they stop their little prank and go away but no noise came from her lips.
_{"Hey, lady, can you hear us? Hellooooo?"}
The reflection. Zarai looked at it again but now it was back to normal mimicking her movements again like it should but the voice didn't go away. She knelt by the pond, her hand hovering over the still waters.

_{"Hold on, I got an idea."}

Her reflection moved with no warning, its hand wrapping around her wrist before pulling her down into the freezing water. Zarai gasped trying to pull back but a force continued to pull her further down into the depths of the pond. She cried and screamed but the only sound she could hear now was herself being drowned.

Zarai gasped loudly when cold water hit her face. She opened her eyes to be greeted by two blurry figures standing over her surrounded by colorful lights. It was a dream... She groaned, cursing under her breath at the lights as if they had offended her, and closed her eyes again. She wanted to go back to the pond. To the cold water and the muffled world that had surrounded her. It was numb at least. Here, everything hurt. It hurt to breathe or move, it hurt to hear and it hurt to exist.

Above her, one of the figures sighed loud enough for Zarai to hear.

"See? She's not dead, and it looks like she is not a half-wit. I think. Happy?"

"Not really. She's in a bad shape."

"No shit. She fought a guy twice her size and then passed out in her own— don't even want to think about it again. It was nasty."

"Shut up... Please." Her voice was low, but she could sense that the two people heard her well enough. There was a "tch" from one and the other didn't say anything but soon enough she was left alone. When she realized that, Zarai opened her eyes once more to see herself laying on a few chairs pushed together. One of her hands rested on her stomach while the other hung on her side, knuckles gracing the dirty floor below her.

She tried to remember why and how her poor decision-making wound her up here beat up like some , and smelling like one too. Fists, insults, choking, they all came in flashes only lasting milliseconds as the memories of the ring rushed back into her head. She winced in pain at both the memories and the sharp pain that shot up when she moved. "Fuck." Her fingers moved up to her face, fingers lightly touching the now swelling split lip then up to her right eye where she could tell her vision was going blurry. Her face would be swollen for the next two or three weeks. Questions would be asked by some and her mother—her mother was going to kill her. Zarai would rather stay here for the rest of her life than go back to the guest house and face her. The mere thought of it sent chills throughout her body.

"Agh!" She protested when something sharp twisted in her stomach. It only lasted seconds but she was left gasping quietly for air while she tried to relax her body but it hurt to even do that. She turned her face to the side when she heard some poor bastard crying, she recognized him from the trip here. One of the Sultan's kids, and next to him was Anastasia. Something about seeing them in a similar state made her feel like she wasn't alone in her suffering. But it was too painful to look again and the chills were starting to make her body tremble. Her best option now was to lie and suffer quietly, bearing herself for the sharp pains and twists in her body that wouldn't allow her to back to sleep.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{S i r A l d e n D r a k e P l a n n i n g t o n
S i r A l d e n D r a k e P l a n n i n g t o n}

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_{N a h i r A y s u n K a d i r
N a h i r A y s u n K a d i r}

_{collab between @Terrance420 and @Rodiak}

"Alden Plannington?" Royal advisor to Caesonian Kingdom. Nahir smiled as she placed a hand over his, her fingers tingling when her skin came in contact with his, sending tiny sparks down her spine. Unsure if it was her, or if it had been the drink, she allowed herself to go along with it not daring to stop and question why she was feeling this way. Instead, she stepped closer to Alden ever so slightly.

"I'm Nahir Aysun." She traced her fingertips over his palm almost in a playful manner. "I was unaware that royal advisors would visit such establishments." She ignored the others around them, not even bothering to bat an eye in their direction. Right now, all Nahir wanted to drown in the warm brown eyes staring back at her. The more she looked, at more she wanted to reach out and glide her fingers through those soft curls on top of his head, maybe trail her nails on his bare back and ride — Stop. Don't think about that. Nahir, focus. Focus on those glorious lips... Her thoughts were starting to sound like they were not her own, but creators were they pleasant enough to almost give in to the temptation.

As her hands lightly trickled on Alden’s wrist and palm, goosebumps traveled across every inch of his body, freezing him up. Their eyes locked, putting him in a trance. All he imagined doing was to place his hands on her hips and pull her closer to him, to embrace the sensations and temptations that were overwhelming him at this moment. He gave a light smile and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Oh no no no, this is not like you at all, Alden. You are more poise and composed than this. Magic or not, this drink does not have that much control over you. It simply cannot, it simply canno…

Before his thought could be finished, he had opened his eyes again and noticed that her eyes were now staring at his lips, and this sent him over the top. It was now only him and her, no one else existed around them. …it… it simply can. He had then gently closed his hand, enclosing her hand in his palm while pulling her closer, and replied back to her comments, trying to be as suave as possible. “Nahir, what an absolute lovely name. I had just come back from a long trip, and my presence has been unannounced as of yet. I figured I would enjoy the festivities…” as he said this he rose her hand slowly and gave a light bow as a gesture while giving off a charming smile “...and embrace the evening for a while” he had finished whilst giving the back of her hand a light kiss.

The small gesture sent Nahir into a momentary bliss as his lips lightly graced her skin. She smiled at the compliment, sending a million butterflies to her stomach, making her feel like she was floating up high in the clouds. Like she was in some sort of romance novel, and she had just met her love interest. It was silly, Nahir knew that much, but it was real. Real enough that she could not look away from Alden as she slowly undressed him with her eyes.

"Allow me to welcome you back home, Alden." Nahir inched closer, a smirk playing on her lips. She wanted to feel his hands all over her and not just her hand. She wanted— needed him to pull her close and beg. To see him on his knees looking up at her with those warm eyes begging for her. Breath, woman. He's just some random man! ... a man I want to devour... She bit her lip, trying to stop the thoughts from running wild in her head. But even his voice was starting to sound so sweet in her ears. Their proximity to each other did not help; she could feel his breath almost tickling her ear and neck; it was sending her over the edge. "The night is still young. Would you like to accompany me for a drink? Perhaps we could embrace the evening together."

With a bite of his lip and a gleam in his eye, Alden rose her hand high and twirled her around, bringing her closer to him, with the two fully embraced now with his hand now resting on her hip. He simply stared at the beauty in front of him, admiring her body. His thoughts now ran wild with tainted thoughts. He wanted to feel her all over as lust had fully taken him over. He let out a small chuckle as he had thought to himself, Never had I imagined this would have occurred, especially tonight. Just try to relax and breathe. She’s someone you have never met before…. a woman… a gorgeous woman I want to dominate…

“I would certainly love to accompany you for another drink Nahir, the night is young indeed” . He pulled her hips even closer to his, with their lips just inches apart. He stared at her captivating eyes, and knew they shared the same carnal desire for each other. They shared this moment together, and any former thoughts of doubt completely washed away. Here and now, he was completely confident. He took his hand and brushed her hair back, and gently whispered in her ear, “ and perhaps, allow us to embrace the night somewhere else .”

Her breath caught in her throat when the world spun around her before coming to a stop in front of him. Her body flushed against his, with only thin silks and fabric stopping them from completely devouring each other. She brought her hand up and rested her palm over his chest as chills ran down her whole body feeling his lips brush against her ear. The yearning in the pit of her stomach only grew at his words, and she felt her knees go weak for a split second.

"May I suggest something else?" Nahir leaned forward, pressing her chest against his. The hand on his chest moved up and around his neck until his curls brushed against her fingers. The pure lust and desire in her eyes reflected on his and only drew Nahir in until their lips were closer than before. "Why don't we skip the drinks?" She looked at him through hooded eyes full of nothing but want for him. There was no reason to hide their cravings for each other or why they should not just give in to their desires. Each passing second was starting to feel excruciating as her thoughts continued to fill her head with everything Alden could do to her.

The tensions between the two created such a lustful and longing vibe for each other, as both wanted to indulge in nothing but sin and pleasure. The hand on his chest, their bodies so close, and the tantalizing look in her eyes compelled Alden even more. His grip on her hips became much more firm. With their lips this close, all he wanted to do was to engage passionately. He met her gaze with such conviction, bit his lip ever so slightly, and then looked at hers. “I believe that sounds like a lovely idea”

"Good." Nahir smiled and took his hand.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{♖ O U T F I T ♖}

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______________________________________ I N T E R A C T I O S N : @samreaper	______________________________________ M E N T I O N S :

Splaat!

Zarai stood there, just a few ways off the growing group, with her once pristine white blouse now covered in frosting and cupcake. She had been cheering on some of the people fighting in the ring but had decided to return to the bar for another "Fever Dream" drink but was stopped by a flying pastry. It hit her on the face, the delicious frosting sliding down to her cheek, down her neck, and into her blouse. She didn't know if it had been the fact her shirt was ruined, or if some of the delicious pastry now called her boobs a home, or if the heated fight in the ring had rubbed off on her, but she was fuming.

"Who. The. FUCK threw that cupcake?!" Her head immediately snapped towards the source of the pastry, eyes glaring at every single head in that group. She approached them with the cupcake still resting peacefully on top of her chest. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the only one screaming and writhing around the table, trying to fight himself. "Who threw the cupcake?" She narrowed her eyes at the group until she finally saw the cupcakes on the floor. The same frosting and stupid colors that were now staining her clothes lay on the floor under the masked blonde.

"You." Zarai pointed at the man calling himself estupido; she would agree with that. Although, pendejo would be a more suited term. With one hand, she forced the man onto his feet, unable to recognize the familiar voice and the cowlick that seemed to defy gravity.

"Que? Te quieres estar pegando como un estupido? Por que no te ayudo?" Zarai grabbed the cupcake still splattered on her and rubbed it against the man's mask, neck, and clothes. "Maldito imbecil." She pulled back with a laugh, eyes staying on the blonde, and although she had gotten even with the cupcake, there was still something in her that burned.

She had to release it. To just let it all go. Her hand twitched, but Zarai just kept staring at the man in front of her, now covered in the same breadcrumbs and frosting as her. Looking at him just made her angrier than before. How did his stupid hair keep going up? Why were there even pastries at this party?! Why was she so angry? Why did Zarai think it was a good idea to bring uncomfortable shoes to a place like this?

"You. Me. The ring. Now." Zarai finally said but didn't wait for a response. She grabbed the front of his shit, ignoring the frosting, and began to pull him towards the ring and away from the group.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{P R I N C E F E L I X C A M I L I A
P R I N C E F E L I X C A M I L I A}

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_{S I R M A T H I A S L A R S E N
S I R M A T H I A S L A R S E N}

_{collab between @Mole and @Rodiak}

After excusing himself from Lady Damien, Mathias made his way from the dance floor to one of the few wine tables. Once reaching his destination, he took one of the many glasses laid out before turning to face the dance floor. His eyes scanned the various faces and lavishly dressed people around the ballroom to distract himself from the two first dances of the season. While he had enjoyed dancing with Lady Vikena and Damien, something had felt off about it. Mathias knew there had been nothing wrong about them or what they had said, but he knew the feeling had originated within him. He could not pinpoint what it was or why he felt that way, but the more he thought of it and tried to figure out why the more uneasy he grew.

To distract himself, Mathias downed the first glass of wine in one breath, ignoring the stinging in his throat. One or two nobles noticed him drinking the red liquid like water, but none of them said anything of the matter, even as he reached for a new glass. But instead of drinking the second, he stared down at it, wondering when exactly the feeling deep in his stomach came to be.

The wine was clearly something very special, and Prince Felix having thought it was about time for himself to at least indulge in it a little (never to the extent of his companions), left Lord Lorenzo and Lady Crystal. He had other conversations to pursue, but leaving himself empty would start to prove an unwise decision as the party carried further into the night. The prince made his way towards the serving table (having no server offer him any as was typical in these sort of events). His mind quickly abandoned the remands of his previous conversation as he found Sir Mathias drinking the liquid in a shocking abundance.

“The wine is very special, is it not Sir Mathias,” he asked the man as he took his own glass. The prince took his attention from the older gentleman and toyed with the rich, red color inside the glass. He tipped the delicate stem towards himself and made a small sniff of the liquid. He admired it respectfully, glanced at the man and then took a sip. “It really paints the mood of the evening,” he continued as he dangled the ideas of Lady Thea and Lord Lorenzo in his mind’s eye. He could not be bothered to surrender himself to such a foolishly golden state. He had his own priorities to uphold. But, alas, there were countless others who had succumbed to the joy, and now, Sir Mathias appeared to be rosying his cheeks, as well.

"Your Highness—" A startled Mathias almost dropped the sweet liquid over him. He cleared his throat before setting the glass down and bowing deeply before the prince. "It is quite special, the first time I've had Caesoanian red wine. Although I must admit, I have not allowed myself to taste it." He gave the prince a sheepish smile as he rose from the bow. Had he known that Prince Felix would be visiting the tables, he would have resisted the urge to down the glass as he had. He only hoped Prince Felix did not think of him as an alcoholic.

"How has the night treated you, Your Highness?" He picked up the glass of wine again but refrained from taking a sip of it for now. Instead, he looked at the Prince briefly, stealing a quick glance at the delicate features. "I hope both dances were to your liking."

“The wine, while not as smooth and eloquent as the Varian fruit, is not something to be overlooked,” he admitted generously, trying to overlook Sir Mathias’ reluctant display. “The evening could simply be summed up as such. My dance with Lady Thea went well…” he concluded.

It was rather embarrassing to mention anything negative about Lady Thea. To do such a thing was like Prince Felix talking about someone else altogether. While, Sir Mathias was a good man and had always offered a mentor’s advice when prompted by the prince, there was something dark that kept him from opening up to anyone about this subject. And, even if he had the sudden ease to say something, now would not be the time. Besides, the dance could have been worse. He had many scenarios bookmarked in his mind over how things could have gone wrong, and (thankfully) none of those scenarios made a show of themselves.

“I could not be more honored to have such an elegant and elite intellectual of a Lady,” he continued after taking a sip of his wine. “She is quite beautiful, with a remarkable sense of will. Many times, it is as if I am under the spell of her charms,” Prince Felix made a smile, pondering in his own words of faux charm. “And what about yourself, Sir Mathias?” The Prince lowered his glass and studied the knight. “How has the evening treated you?” He asked, having already concluded a negative answer by the wiles of how the knight was drinking with such an embarrassing hand.

Mathias resisted the urge to look around the room in search of Lady Smithwood. The halls of the Varian castle spoke and whispered of her new habits after her father's disappearance. It had been the talk of the year, no one who lived or worked there was able to get away from the topic. He wondered at times if her engagement to Prince Felix had been a wise one, then he remembered that it wasn't his place to think of such things. "I am glad to hear that, Your Highness. Nothing short of perfect, I am sure." The knight smiled.

"Ah," Mathias could not say that it had been a lovely experience as the Prince had already seen him swallowing down a full glass of wine like nothing. Lying would only make him bad, more than he already was at the moment anyway. "It was quite an experience," This was his first time outside of Varian and his first-ever extravagant ball, so his words were truthful. "Lady Vikena and Lady Damien were wonderful dance partners." He took a sip of the wine, finally tasting the sweet liquor, and realized that Prince Felix was right about the wine.

The small amount of wine that the prince had tasted was enough to ease the nerves, tense in him. He enjoyed the touch of Lady Thea Smithwood, but the feeling was something vacant and distant. He could not outline the darkness. However, right now, as he spoke to Sir Mathias, there was a small spark. He noticed the spark many times when associating with the knight. Right now, his pale words were like feeding a dying light. He had felt this same sensation earlier when making small talk with Lord Lorenzo and Princess Crystal.

“The way you are consuming your liquor, I can only wonder what the experience was like,” Prince Felix tried to jest in his own, dark tone, but much like his fencing, he came off as sharp and a little condescending. He wondered about Sir Mathias as much as he could. The man was ruthlessly loyal and compassionate about the ones for which he cared, especially after the departing of his most beloved.

Prince Felix has not the patience or time to feel such emotions. He kept everyone within swords length and truly concealed much of what he truly thought and felt to himself. He took another sip, slightly larger than the last, if it made a difference to anyone watching. “Lady Thea is a wonderful dance partner, as well,” he hinted, momentarily, with his guard down and trying to diffuse any presumptions he had illiteously inquired within his previous comment. The last thing he wanted was Sir Mathias to fall apart on him. It was the first of events like this for him, and now was obviously not the time. “I dismissed the first dance, solely to observe. There are some wonderful dancers all around us, but that is to be expected,” he mused.

Mathias smiled at the Prince's words, letting a small chuckle escape past his lips. He had known Prince Felix long enough to understand the man's sense of humor, and he did, in fact, have one. "Worry not, Your Highness, I assure that both ladies had nothing to do about the amount of wine I've been consuming." He did not, however, discuss the reasons why he was drinking in such a way. Mathias wished to prevent souring their conversation or bring about any sort of awkwardness. Besides, he himself did not understand the reason nor the source of the feeling that now lived deep within him.

"I hope the first dance was entertaining enough; I did notice your absence on the dance floor and Her Highness too." He glanced down at the wine glass in the Prince's hand, wondering if both were trying to drink away their worries away. He was bout to inquire about the subject when King Edin's voice interrupted his thoughts.

After the small speech, he turned to look at Prince Felix, "Shall I escort you to the guest house, Your Highness?" Mathias may be attending as a guest, but his job to the crown and the royal family came first. Although, he would not take it to heart if the prince decided to head over by himself. It gave him some time to gather his thoughts and try to process the events of today. Perhaps even plan a small walk around the halls with his son, knowing that the boy would not be close to sleep right now.

“Of course,” Prince Felix asserted. He did not bother to finish his glass of wine. Instead, he merely placed it on the table for someone in the staff to discard and clean.

As the two men began taking their leave of the grand event, the Prince continued the conversation. “If you do not mind my asking,” he began, deciding swiftly not to make jovial of the event. It was unlikely to be taken with as much heart. “What brought you to consume so much wine, last minute at that?”

Taken back a tad with the Prince's question, Mathias was unsure how to answer him. There had not been an external reason as to why he suddenly downed a whole glass of wine. It was out of character for him; the knight did have to admit that, but there wasn't really anything he could say that would satisfy the Prince's curiosity. "Impulse, though I am not sure." He glanced over at the Prince, hoping to see another teasing look on his porcelain-like features. When he found none, he continued, "I— I have been struggling with some internal conflicts, none that would invalidate my responsibilities as the Captain of the Royal Guard. It is my first grand event since my wedding as well, and I am afraid the thought of it finally caught up to me." The statement was partly true. Mathias always avoided lying to Prince Felix, but he could not exactly explain the feeling he was struggling with because he had no way of doing so.

As the two gentlemen continued to walk, Prince Felix considered what Sir Mathias was saying. He thought about their fencing matches, which had been nonetheless favorable on the Prince’s side for the most part. At times, a man’s swordsmanship reflected his inner character, and despite his perception, had noticed nothing at the heart of the knight’s changing demeanor. There had been a time when the knight had proven guilty with despair, back when he was younger. However, now seemed hardly the time to bring this up.

“Perhaps it is not my place to inquire any further, then,” the young prince said with lingering curiosity. Sir Mathias had always lent an ear during their time together, not that he had made too many confessions — as a more stoic individual, but among the times in which he had, he had not regretted it. Now, if he lent his own ear to Sir Mathias, he would only be returning the favor. “And, perhaps, it is not my place to make such a statement, you ought not hide your embarrassment, because we all have our inner struggles. I can assure you, you are not the only one. If you care to share anything with me, I would dare not judge such a fine mentor as yourself,” he spoke in reference to his dearest Lady Thea. Although, he might as well have spoken of himself. And he dared not say anything of his own predicament to any soul, but thought nothing similar to how Sir Mathias might respond. It was his duty to listen, after all.

They had approached the guest house now, there were a few lingering nobles and guards outside mingling, but Mathias paid no attention to them. The knight looked over at the Prince, surprised at the words of support he had offered the knight. He smiled, bowing his head in gratitude. "I assure Your Highness I will not hesitate to share my troubles when I finally find the words to do so." He stopped short from the entrance to the guest house and turned to face the Prince. "In the meantime, I shall follow your advice—"

"Papa!" A little blond boy dressed in blues and browns came running towards them and wrapped his arms around Mathias's leg. Not too far after him, an older lady came running behind the boy with a worried look on her face. When she saw Mathias, her features relaxed but quickly took notice of Prince Felix's presence and curtsied.

Mathias smiled at Mary, his son's nanny, before turning his attention down to the boy. "Lukas," The knight allowed his shoulders to relax as he crouched down and took one of his hands. "Say hello to His Highness, honey."

Lukas glanced up at Prince Felix and hid behind his father. When Mathias gently pushed him forward, the boy shyly bowed, "Hello, Y-Your High... High..." He took a deep breath and held his father's hand tightly before speaking again. "Hello, Your Highness." He smiled proudly.

“Ah, gentle Lukas,” the prince gave a nod and a smile. He knelt down to meet the young boy at eye level, “Take care of your father. He’s a good man,” a smirk drew on the man’s face as he commanded the boy, both looking into each other’s eyes. Prince Felix stood up and bowed to the knight. “I should be able to make it to my room on my own from here. Thank you for your service, as always.”

"Yes, Your Highness." Lukas nodded slowly, bowing again and stepping next to his father, and glared at anyone that got too close to them. Mathias chuckled as he stood up again and faced the Prince. Not long ago Lukas would have run away at the sight of the prince. There were certain people the boy was scared of, and one of them had been the prince. Even with Varrick, he had been so shy to even look at the man. Granted, Varrick could look quite scary at times.

"No need to thank me. Have a good night, Your Highness." He could see Lukas bow too next to him.

“Have a good night as well, Sir Mathias,” with that, Prince Felix concluded their conversation for the evening and went his way.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{♛ O U T F I T ♛
L O C A T I O N : Marek's Afterparty}

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______________________________________ I N T E R A C T I O S N : @Potter , @Terrance420	______________________________________ M E N T I O N S : @samreaper , @princess , @Helo , @Alivefalling

"Dear sister Nahir, I was never someone to enjoy alcohol that much, but you got yourself quite the drink, didn't you?"

Nahir had been so mesmerized by the pretty rose petals floating on the gold liquid to realize her sister had crept up to the bar next to her. "Quite intriguing, is it not. I've never seen something quite like this." She swirled the glass, watching the petals dance before taking a sip and waving as Mayet left with her own pretty golden drink. The drink itself tasted of grapefruit and apples, a combination she had not had yet, and while the former fruit was a bit too bitter for her taste, the apple seemed to balance it out.

She took her time with her drink as she survived the place. A warehouse like this with this sort of event must have a rich and influential host with enough power to keep their warehouse of pleasures secret. Nahir spotted Anastasia walking out of one of the rooms with a tall man, but the lights from the magical projections shone in her eyes as she tried to catch a glimpse of him. He looked important and carried himself as much anyway, so Nahir pushed herself away from the bar after finishing her drink and made her way to Anastasia.

Salt and pepper hair and a beard to match with. Broad shoulders, tall, and despite the lack of light, she managed to make out some detailing on his suit. Nahir's eyes wandered down his back to his shoes but stopped shortly after seeing those buns of—

Was she checking him out? Focus, Nahir. It was only one drink. Besides, he was old. His hair was already graying! Oh, but did it look like a glorious mess that her fingers could run through. Maybe even pull while she—

"Focus." Nahir peeled her eyes away from them — the buns — as he disappeared up the stairs, and she approached the forming group around the bubbly princess. Leo was there too with a few others she did not recognize. Other nobles?

And then a blonde man with one of the masks began to... slap himself? On top of a table. Over cupcakes. And yet, Nahir couldn't help but stare at the scene unfold before her. With every slap and every slam of his head, her cheeks grew darker and darker. The disheveled blonde hair caught the colorful magical lights with every slam as sweat beads formed on the idiot's forehead. And the rage, of the rage in his eyes, drew her towards the mess that was that man.

"Who is that? Why is he calling himself estupido?" Nahir had walked up next to one of the men around the table. He was a bit taller than her with dark curly hair and brown eyes. Under this lighting, they looked so dark, as dark as his hair. Gods did Nahir want to touch his hair."Alden, was it?" She smiled, giving him a once over before returning her eyes to his. "Friend of the princess?"

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

&

_{N A H I R & Z A R A I}

She could feel the vibrations of the music as the group made their way down the secret door to the party. It was unlike anything she had heard before, but the strange rhythm and catchy beat only made her footsteps faster, and belly fill with anticipation. She refused a mask, wondering if a mere face covering would really hide her identity when her dark skin would give her away. It wouldn't matter, not here anyway. Tittles had been left behind as soon as they all stepped foot inside.

The lights, the music, the people, everything was unlike anything she had seen or experienced before, and Nahir was loving it all. She allowed herself to bask in the changing lights that seemed to be emitting from an unknown source but decided to pay no mind to them once the princess removed that stuffy robe.

"Hot damn, cupcake, you really did not come here to play." Nahir looked back to glare at one of the ladies that had snuck out with them. The scent of the familiar herbs still clung to her skin as she pushed past the Alidasht princess and towards Anastasia.

"Seriously, I can't believe this exists here!" Nahir did not know who this woman was, nor what her title was, but she supposed it did not matter right now. She was wearing dark trousers with a simple white blouse and a red corset over it, along with one of the white masks they had offered. A rather strange combination, Nahir thought as she walked closer to her siblings.

"It is a rather peculiar discovery. Who would have thought that a country so deprived of pleasures would have such scandalous celebrations." Nahir glanced at Mayet and Munir, a smirk playing on her lips. She'd been disappointed to hear that Saiya and, later on, Layla would not be joining them at the party but had promised to catch them up tomorrow morning. She was not very keen on drinking too much tonight, seeing as she was planning to tour the castle gardens early in the morning before anyone else awoke. A drink or two would suffice.

"And that is what I was just thinking!" The girl with the corset spoke up again in her direction. Nahir just looked at her, eyeing the woman before turning her attention to the bar. The colors and various bottles lined up on the wall called to her, beckoning her to come closer for something that would soothe the nerves. She didn't resist the urge one bit as she approached the bar.

Zarai rolled her eyes when one of the Alidasht princesses ignored her, not caring much for it as she grinned back at Anastasia. "Seriously, this is amazing. Can't believe this was kept from me for so long!" She laughed as she finally realized Kazu was also in their presence. While the effects of the drug were starting to wear off it only meant that it was time to indulge in another vice.

"Well, cupcake, hope to see more of you later." She winked at the princess before rushing to the middle of the room, instantly grinning up at the various lights that filled her vision. Magic! This must be magic. She laughed as she continued to walk further in, eyes darting from light to light until she found herself by the bar. Across from her, Zarai heard one of the Alidasht princesses order.

"Douse the Thirst, please." Seconds later the red drink was brought to her. She could see the rose petals swirling around a tiny crescent moon from her seat. Amazing! Zarai thought, making sure to make a mental note that she would no longer complain about trips to Sorian ever again if she'd get to experience this again.

"A Fever Dream for me." Zarai waved down the lady behind the bar, winking at her as she waited for her drink. The sound of fighting finally caught her attention, turning to face a boxing match in one of the room's corners. Her eyes immediately perked up as she stood on her tip-toes to try to get a better view from afar.

After the drink was done and placed in front of her, Zarai thanked the woman and scooped it up without looking at it. Clearly too distracted by the fighting as she approached and sipped her drink, hips swaying from side to side at the beat of the music.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Nahir & John

Second dance

---

Music had already begun when Nahir and John arrived at the dance floor. She took a deep breath and lifted her arms in position to wait for Doctor Williamson. Layla, and John himself, had mentioned that he was not the best at dancing. She didn't mind, not much anyway; back home, dances were more intricate and lively than the Caesoanian waltz. The waltz in this kingdom was slow, precise, and intimate. Alidasht favored the movement of the whole body. Hands, feet, hips, and even the face were part of the dances themselves. Saur was known for their expressive dances, and the skill to perform them was no walk in the park.

Perhaps thankfully for both of them, the waltz this time around was slower, so the doctor’s inexperience with dancing didn’t hinder both of them too much. John led the dance this time around, slower but trying much to adhere to Layla’s advice: letting loose and go with the flow. Nevertheless, he was still less expressive in his own dance move, being more of a pillar to assist the Shehzadi in her dance. Like how a good doctor should.

Nahir wondered if the Sultan would ever consider holding a season in Alidasht. Would their guest be able to withstand the Genasean heat? Despite the city's proximity to the sea, the summers could be unbearable to foreigners, especially those hailing from Varian. Although, it would benefit the kingdom great to host such an event. The season could allow Alidasht to show off its wealth and power- show both Varian and Caesonia that the peace has not weakened them and, in fact, show how much stronger Alidasht and her people have become.

"Doctor Williamson," She began, "would you ever be interested in visiting Alidasht?"

Visiting Alidasht…a place of mystery that were told mostly in books, historical records and hearsay, but when it comes to actually stepping foot on their soil, or just the thought of it, John didn’t have existing desires for that, perhaps due to how occupied he had been throughout the last few years.

”I wouldn’t say I have plans to before, but Alidasht is a curious place,” John replied. ”and I’m a curious man. So yes, I would love to be a visitor.” Not just to enjoy the beautiful country, but to learn about it too, or rather dispel whatever rumors circulating about the land. He enjoyed direct observations, not hearsay passed between individuals. ”What would you…say…recommend a new visitor like me, who has never been there before, do in Alidasht?”

Nahir had been warned about the doctor's dancing, so she was pleasantly surprised to see that Doctor Williamson was not as terrible as she had imagined. Perhaps with a bit of practice, he could become a decent dancer. Although, the idea of seeing John perform one of the Alidasht dances amused her.

Pleased with his answer, she nodded and followed his lead. "Curiosity is always welcomed in Alidasht. The temples of Genasea, as well as the libraries, are always my first recommendation to new visitors." She continued, "Kisoma, one of the cities of the north of Genasea, has the largest University and libraries if you are looking to visit s more knowledge-filled place." Talking about her home made her heart ache; she already missed the noisy, busy streets, the music, and the smells. Nahir especially missed the warm beaches.

”Oh Kisoma? I’ve heard of the place.” John nodded, his pitch went up a notch upon hearing something familiar. ”We had some outbound scholarly trip to Kisoma. I heard it’s been like that for a while, not sure how long. The weather is quite temperate there, isn’t it?” Relative to the rest of Alidasht of course. Would still be significantly hotter than Varians or Caesonians were used to, and probably a lot more so for the pale beavers of the North like John, but eh, he’s been to other places, he’d probably manage. ”Is that why the big university is at Kisoma?”

"One of the few reasons, yes." She nodded, "Kisoma had always been a major city- a gathering hub, its location perfect for hosting foreign convoys from the North and South alike." Nahir had been enjoying their casual conversation so far. She had always enjoyed the company of academics and scholars, and John was no different. After a spin, Nahir smiled up at the doctor.

"It was there where I first laid eyes on a beautiful Caesonian gown." The fabric and style had been so different from what she was accustomed to, not to mention the amount of material! Since that day, Nahir had begun to pull inspiration from the other kingdom's fashion into her own, creating the unique styled she was now wearing.

”Ooh?” Her mention of the Caesonian gown was a cool little detail. Indeed, just as he noticed on the balcony earlier, she blended really well with Caesonian dresses. It is an entirely different style on its own, honestly difficult for John to imagine anyone imitating, and his opinion was of that people shouldn’t anyway. Not the people who thought slapping a bunch of jewelries on make you look royal, or putting a hood on make you look mysterious and cool.

”I will say that you had great taste, your highness. I don’t mean to flatter, but to integrate well with our-I mean Caesonian fashion is…” He looked up for a second for a good word. ”tricky. Believe me, I’m wearing a bit of that.” And he looked like that long-nosed doll from that play. John slowed down the waltz for a bit just to have a clear look at Nahir. ”So yeah, you look fantastic tonight.”

"You flatter me, nonetheless, Doctor." Nahir chose to leave John's small slip up for a later day; not wanting to sour their dance with personal questions as to why he did not finish with "our". Although she became intrigued about it, she smiled at his words. "It is a hassle to dress for such occasion, especially with three different kingdoms meeting in one place. Fashion is a bit all over the place." Though, she wondered what John would look like in traditional Alidasht garb- and if he would be open to the idea.

”I can’t agree more with that.” John broke out a laugh as he continued his waltz, swirling around a bit. ”They say that fashion is personality you can buy, so naturally everyone wants something that shines on themselves best.” Some most shining examples include the vampire Leo, the ‘literally blinding’ prince Felix, the constellation princess Beatrice, the half-man half-metal Roman. And then there’s John, the ‘I’m not even gonna try, I’m just gonna wear variations of this until I’m dead’.

"It is often that I see the clothes wear the individual rather than them wearing the clothes," Nahir joined his laugh, as her reflexes took over and held tighter as they began to swirl but had no trouble matching the doctor's lead. "Although I must say, there is a lot one could learn from only looking at what a person is wearing." She did not give any examples, deciding to spare those few nobles and royals' attire from her judgment.

But what about John’s? He wasn’t necessarily insecure about how he looks, but what Nahir said piqued his curiosity for certain. ”Any examples in your mind? If you’re worried about us Northern decorum…” He lifted a hand from her shoulder, twisted his wrist once before laying on his chest. ”Don’t worry, you can let me know about how I look. I’m unceremonious, numb to getting judged, so you can be as honest as you like.” His laughter continued, perhaps a little too laid back or even unaware about something that might intonate a darker personal topic on his part.

Nahir's lips parted as if to scold him for saying those words so easily but instead decided to smile at the doctor. She slowed down, much like he had when he'd taken a closer look at her, and began to assess the doctor. Although his clothes were plain and the colors neutral, she could tell they were made by experienced hands, which meant they were supposed to last longer than one use. There was no colored trim, no gold, no fancy buttons or jewels used to adorn himself. "Very well, doctor," Nahir nodded, "The lack of jewelry and practical clothes tell me you were not born into nobility. Yet, you stand out against the gold and colorful outfits of others here, and you do not seem to care or be concerned about it. The material, it's sturdy and made to last years tells me you are more concerned about the clothes being functional over fashionable." She smiled again, "Though, I must admit that I may be cheating- our conversation before told me enough to say you are a passionate man when it comes to your work."

John listened to Nahir’s assessment, and he had to say it was fairly…obvious? It wasn’t just his personal taste of simplicity and convenience for the costume, it’s also a practical choice scientifically. It wasn’t obvious yet to everybody, but Varian Royal Physicians were beginning to dress with less jewelry due to a recent publication indicating the existence of certain microorganism that can stick on gemstones and other jewels. Doesn’t stop them from flashing their titles on their clothes if they wanted to, but that was the case.

But her assessment wasn’t wrong either. He stood out amongst the nobles for his bloodline, but amongst the servants as well for his standings. He’s comfortable in his own skin, and proud of it, his work and personal growth.
”Thank you, your highness. It makes my day to hear that.” He smiled happily.

"I-" Yelling interrupted her as some noble began to scream at one of the servants. Her pace slowed down as she turned her head to look at the source of the commotion. "Looks like this evening is full of drama, is it not? Almost feels like it will never end." Her first thought already forgotten.

The distressing yell was not lost on John either. He saw from the corner of his eyes some nobles kneeling, but he was far enough to not make of anything else. ”Ayy, yeah. It always is.” He sighed, as he too slowed down and gently separated from Nahir’s grip. ”Allow me a moment, I’ll see if everyone’s ok.”

He bowed hastily before rushing towards the commotion. The more he moved towards the commotion, the less severity it appeared to be, and the more he regretted that decision. He arrived outside the crowd, trying to peer over the other nobles watching, hearing someone blaming someone else, and then complaining about her dress being ruined. Ok then, there goes nine out of ten reason for him to care. Just some halfwitted nobles too high up in the clouds…

“This is why you should never hire commoners! No work ethics! Inherently lazy! You do the bare minimum work and expect to get paid handsomely for it! Even though you can’t even do the simplest task!”

’Hmm…’

And the tenth reason should go with him too. But it stayed with him for a bit. John was still listening to the barrage of contamination. His ankle tapped onto the floor in restless repetition and his breathe hung heavy. He wanted to speak up, but something within him prevented him from doing so. Instead, he just stood there, something quietly building within him. Thankfully, prince Callum interjected before anything drastic happened.

Oh yeah…it’s been a while since…John had to come by and say hi at some point. For now, he just turned and left, forcing his way through the crowd that he now considered a human cesspool, making his way back to Nahir, shaking his head quickly a few times in the process.

”Sorry for that. Nothing major happened. Just…idiots I suppose.” He said once he arrived. ”If you don’t mind continuing…” He was about to offer the Shehzadi a hand until he heard the typical ending chorus to the waltz. There wouldn’t be much more to continue. ”Nevermind, we’re ending. A shame we couldn’t end it more smoothly.”

"No need to apologize, Doctor," She smiled, shaking her head a bit just as the ending of the song played. "A shame, indeed." Nahir glanced back to the now diffused situation, one eyebrow arched after hearing the shrieking noble. She turned back to face John, an easy smile returning to her lips.

"It was a pleasure to dance with you, Doctor Williamson. I hope we can get a chance to do so again, but this time without an interruption." She wanted to glare at the noble that had so rudely stopped their dance but decided against it, at least, until the doctor was gone.

”Doubly so for me, Shehzadi Nahir.” He replied in kind. ”I hope so too. You can always ask me, I’m always around. For any business, appointment or just wanna chat, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate.” Then gave a deep bow, like when he did with Layla. ”Take care!” And a friendly goodbye wave.

"You as well, doctor." Nahir smiled, returning the wave before departing from the dance floor.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{♖ O U T F I T ♖}

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______________________________________ I N T E R A C T I O S N :	______________________________________ M E N T I O N S :

With her head in the clouds and floating feet, Zarai had somehow wandered to a small group of ladies talking amongst themselves. Well, more gossiping about the events that had transpired in such a short amount of time. Zarai paid no mind to them, not that she could really. Their voices were all blending into one as she stared at the ornate designs of one of the ladies' skirts. The subtle greens and blues blended perfectly with the silver that adorned the fabric. Zarai almost wanted to reach down and touch the material, but despite the high, she still did not wish to cause a scene.

"Lady Lesdeman?" Zarai snapped out of her trance, green eyes looking up to the lady looking directly at her. Was it Lady Snufflebottom? She didn't remember her name. "Would you mind telling us your inspiration for..." the woman looked up and down at her, "your... suit? The emerald green is gorgeous on you, and the white trousers- something we have not seen before." The other ladies nodded and leaned in closer to Zarai, awaiting her answer.

"Uh-" She blinked, looking around to see the group of ladies looking at her and expecting an answer. "My brain? I... I mean, inspiration just flows through me, ladies; painting and sketching are simply not enough, and thus I've decided to bring my art into my clothes." She laughed softly, sipping from the cranberry juice she had ordered moments before approaching the group. Wine would not be the best right now, and while Zarai was always up to some chaos, she did not want to further cloud her mind with alcohol.

There were a few "ooh"s and "ahh"s from the group, but Lady Snufflebottom just nodded, eyes locked on hers, and it was starting to make Zarai feel funny. "Of course, I can share some of my sketches with you if you would like. I have a lot that could " she offered, hoping that the lady would ease up on the staring.

"Luzero?" Zarai's back tensed at the sound of her mother's voice. Oh fuck. She turned around to see her mother standing directly behind her; Duchess Lesdeman closed the fan and slapped it against her palm before signaling Zarai to follow her. With no other words, she turned around and began to make her way away from the group without looking back to see if her daughter was following or not.

"Excuse me, ladies." Zarai bowed before hurrying after her mother.

"Where is your dress? The one that I commissioned for you?" The Duchess looked at Zarai from the corner of her eyes, glaring at her daughter's outfit as if it had slapped her mother. "I always buy you such nice things and you continue to change them and completely ruin them. Zarai, you are a lady for Creator's sake, act like one. If you are to marry after this season it should be in your best interest to act like a proper lady. I should have listened to Queen Alibeth and sent you to a boarding school here. Caesonian values are much more suitable for a lady of your standing."

"It was stuffy." Zarai shrugged a shoulder, ignoring the patronizing tone of her mother's voice. Instead, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her trousers, looking for a minor distraction which she indeed found. A small piece of folded paper that was not there before, Zarai pulled it out while her mother continued to scold her as they walked.

Dear Zarai Lesdeman. The night has just begun. Come to 420 Wicker Street. It's the only warehouse in sight. Titles will be left at the door. Anyone who looks down on controversial ways of amusement, or who would inform who they shouldn't, shall not be invited. Tell no one you are going or where you are going

"Oh shit-"

"What?" Her mother stopped, and Zarai almost bumped into her mother, but trained feet and quick reflexes stopped her from doing so. She shoved the note into her mouth before her mother could turn to look at her. She shook her head quickly with an innocent smile; her mother just narrowed her eyes and turned back around to continue her lecture.

"You will dance this time, and you will not leave my sight for the rest of the night, Zarai Luzero." The Duchess finally stopped walking and turned to look at her daughter. Her dark eyes glared daggers down at her daughter. "I will find a man with a title and wealth. And if I cannot, I will fetch Lord Monet because I do not know a single man from Varian willing to dance with you after you've driven your reputation to the ground." Her words were like needles to Zarai. They were small and insignificant, but with enough of them and the right amount of pressure, they stung enough to make anyone shed a tear.

Zarai was no different. Although she had heard those words for years now in a myriad of ways in all tones one could possibly produce, the works stung like a snake's bite today. Tears began to swell up in her eyes but Zarau would curse herself if she allowed herself to cry in the presence of her mother. She bit her tongue, and a bit of the note, looking at her mother but unable to meet the cold gaze. Everything fiber of her body screamed for her to do something anything- but her body felt like she'd been thrown into the Northern Seas. All she could do was nod.

The Duchess took a deep breath before speaking again, "Zarai, I want the best for you. I want you to be happy, a proper lady in a good marriage with a respectable man who will continue to run Puerto Vira." Her voice had softened now, almost gentle and soothing, but Zarai could see through it all. "Stay here, okay? I'll find a nice gentleman for you." The Duchess took her daughter's hands and gently squeezed them before pulling back and walking away.

Zarai watched her mother and made sure she was out from sight before finally allowing herself to breathe and quickly spit out the note. "Your reputation bad, find you a man, run the city-" She rolled her eyes and pocketed the piece of paper. Her mother was right, though; she had to find a husband and not because of the Duchess's reasons, but because Zarai would not allow herself to be married off to whoever her mother wished.

Her nose continued to sting as tears threatened to spill. Luckily a distraction presented itself; the sound of the slap overtook the music. Zarai's head snapped to the growing commotion but dared to not move. She could not quite see what was going on from her position, only hearing a noblewoman complain and belittle a servant. She wanted to move, to step in or do something but the venomous words of her mother continued to echo in her mind.