SilverPaw

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Outfit Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Late Morning Location: The Castle Gardens: Tea Party Mention(s): @princess Edin Interaction(s): @Helo Callum, @Tpartywithzombi Violet

At Callum's disgruntled expression, Wulfric removed his hand. His brother was too slow, his arm flailing though the air ineffectively. Clearly, his brother was sulking about having his grand moment hijacked. “Energetic,” he repeated, chuckling lightly.

Really, didn’t he know this was for his own good?

Brotherly banter was all fine and good, but overt antagonism was terrible for public image. Never mind airing out personal grievances against the king. That hateful expression of his had had to go.

If he wanted to be taken seriously, his brother had to start paying attention. Not just to Edin; to all his audience, and to how he was perceived by it. After all, the only ones willing to back a fool would be those seeking to exploit him.

Callum still knew nothing about anything.

No doubt his brother imagined money could be conjured from nothing, or perhaps suckered entirely from overly idealistic entities who thought they had the gold to spare.

No matter.

If he did not know, he could learn. He could be taught.

Even if his vision was utterly naïve and nonsensical, he could see realized a more grounded version of it.

If he was finally taking an active interest in at least one part of governing, he could yet be made into a proper prince.

“Excellent.” Receiving his brother’s affirmative, Wulfric smiled sharply. His piercing gaze was as intent as ever, but something strangely akin to enthusiasm gleamed within.

“Now then…” He took a step towards his seating area when Callum had another choice remark for him.

Wulfric turned an amused, haughty look his brother’s way. “Cute.” Evidently, the insult didn’t bother him at all. “Whoever cannot appreciate my priorities is hardly worthwhile, however,” he commented.

Since they were apparently exchanging unwanted advice, he imparted some of his own. “And you should prioritize that charity of yours. I suggest you start by using this event to identify potential backers.” He took another step forward, eyes sweeping the crowd before settling on Callum one last time.

“You’d best tone down on the pledges given in another’s name. If you can’t ensure what you claim, it will be your responsibility. Not the king’s. If your promises are vain, you will appear unreliable at best, a malicious liar at worst,” he stated seriously. Only in part was this a rebuke for Callum having neglected the promise he had given him. Mostly, it was a warning not to underestimate Edin, nor to take politics lightly.

After a respectful bow in his father’s direction to excuse himself from the scene, he returned to Violet’s side. “Again, my apologies for the abrupt departure,” he told her with a smile she couldn’t see, and took a seat.

He motioned a nearby servant to pour him a cup of black tea. “You know, I did notice some guests giving you strange looks. Do you have a sixth sense for such things now?” he wondered, torn between curiosity and mild amusement.

“However, there is no need for you to pay them any mind. It is natural they would wonder, for there were no news nor public announcements of your attack. So, for you to suddenly appear injured is bound to rouse shock and speculation.” His cup had been prepared, so he dismissed the servant with a nod. He paused to sip at the tea, which was at the perfect temperature. He released a sigh of contentment, and after another sip, set the cup on its saucer.

“Returning to our previous topic…Do you have any suspects in mind? I am afraid that at the moment, there is mostly circumstantial evidence to base the investigation off of. So, if you can think of anything – anything at all – that would be helpful,” he cajoled.

Wulfric had the suspicion that her reticence was not due to distress. In fact, so far, Violet had barely shown emotion at all. It was certainly possible that her injury had caused a localized memory loss or confusion, but he wasn’t sure if that was quite right either. As he’d told her, she functioned surprisingly well. It was almost as if she was avoiding the topic of her attack for an entirely different reason.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Outfit Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Late Morning Location: The Castle Gardens: Tea Party Mention(s): @Potter Ezra, Sadie Interaction(s): @Tpartywithzombi Violet, @Tae Mina, @Helo Callum, @princess Edin

“Gossip can be useful, my lady,” Wulfric commented mildly. Her resentment of the concept did not go unnoticed. After the unsavory rumours concerning her (supposed) meeting with Lord Ravenwood on a balcony at the ball, that was understandable. Her new scars surely added to her caution – from what he’d gathered, she’d always been self-conscious about the ones she’d gained in her childhood. “However, my primary interest is in factual information,” he corrected.

He inclined his head at the provided explanation of her heightened hearing. “No doubt it will take time to adjust to. But you seem more than ready to tackle the challenge,” he complimented. He hadn’t expected for her to be out and about. Either she should still be recovering from her injuries…or else she ought to be dead.

But surely, as strange as the Damiens’ story was, surely the alternative that she had been killed was not viable?

“Well, he is only beginning to learn.” Regretfully, Wulfric suspected that this trumpet prank of Callum’s might become a favourite.

Before the two made even one step towards a table, Lady Mina turned to him with her cheeky remarks. “Wystan is on duty,” he noted, no-nonsense. He then decided to repay her banter in kind. “But if you are so liberal with your free time, perhaps you do not understand the notion?” Subtly, he needled her with the suggestion that her hedonistic tendencies often came in the way of the responsibilities she had as a future countess.

“Your approach of holding up the line is likelier a cause for further impatience,” he drawled dryly. Possibly, she did not realize, but exchanges of witticisms and barbed comments were one of his favoured pastimes.

Suddenly, chatter all around was silenced at the announcement of the king’s arrival. As dancers weaved in between the crowd, he gave Mina a knowing look. “Here is your much awaited excitement. Do enjoy.” She indicated that she would head to Sadie’s table, but Wulfric politely declined the invitation. “I will come by later to greet her.”

With that, he escorted Lady Violet to a table of her choice. In the background, his father was beginning a speech, one familiar enough the prince could afford to half-listen at best.

To Violet’s question, he gave an equally blunt answer. “Why, your father, of course.” He paused a moment for effect, and to see if she would react or respond in any way.

Then, he continued. “He was awfully distressed thinking you had died, of course. To the relief of all, you lived. However, someone is clearly intent on doing you ill.” Concise and a tad vague, he told her a bit of her parents’ story. He didn’t know if she’d been informed of the dead lookalike, but refrained from mentioning it. Violet herself was being scarce on the details of her attack. “If you can’t think of any enemies of yours, you might consider who your father’s are.” Calbert thought a peasant was the cause of it all, but that was highly questionable.

While they were conversing, the king’s speech had finally concluded. Callum passed his table with a smile promising trouble, and Wulfric arched an eyebrow at him. So, he wasn’t done for today yet.

He observed, curious. His initial wariness was soon replaced by surprise. No, he certainly hadn’t anticipated that. Especially not after Callum’s heartfelt and dramatic proclamations that he didn’t want to get involved in any of this.

But look at him now. Complimenting their father, and even having it seem genuine. Using the influence and opinion of everyone present to pressure the king. Making a show of it all.

Forceful, bold, ambitious, and boasting.

Wasn’t he quite the budding politician?

Concerned for welfare, are you?

Wulfric didn’t especially care one way or the other. While he was reluctant to admit it, as far as doing ‘something better’ went, this was applicable. He’d been thinking of finding such a thing for Callum, but his brother had shown unexpected initiative.

Usually, he’d simply let father and Callum resolve their little spat however they would.

Might as well take this opportunity. Wulfric sighed. He didn’t much favour it, but this would provide him an occasion to show his brother the actual work entailed in realizing even a fraction of his idea.

“Please excuse me, politics calls. I will return shortly.” He gave Violet his apologies, and stood up.

He began clapping, but rather than for the king, this was intended for Callum, even if no one else knew it. With slow, purposeful steps, he made his way to where his relatives faced off. “Your Majesty, how marvelous.” It was his father he addressed first, oozing charm. He wondered if his heir’s involvement would be startling to the old man.

Wulfric added onto Callum’s lie. “I recall you considered something similar to the Pancakes at the Park event, since that one suffered due to unfortunate outside interference.” This morning’s paper had blamed Lorenzo for the occurrence. So would many who had read it. Even Edin might be baited into wanting to show up the miserable duke. As for the unfortunate Vikena? Wulfric doubted his reputation could possibly be more damaged. He could take it.

“And to add even further iterations? That would be a good chance for anyone who wishes to showcase their work to a larger populace.”

Was that the why his brother had brought Ezra along? Why did it have to be him?

I should remove the menace before he shows his true colours. Ignoring his idle death wish for the baker, he turned to Callum with a challenging smile.

“You are very eager today, brother.” Since his youngest sibling was slipping into a ferocious scowl, Wulfric moved close enough to ruffle his hair. “If you have so much energy to spare, I expect you can take charge of the very next charity, hm?” Callum might think it was simple, but it wasn’t.

Quietly enough so only his brother would hear, he added, “I hope you are ready to delve into the intricacies of planning, management, financing, and politicking.” He tilted his head thoughtfully, then said, “Oh, and paperwork.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Ryn & Prince Wulfric
Part I

Date: Sola, 23^rd
Time: Early morning

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Wulfric's office was starting to show signs of chaos as numerous documents, notes, reports, and various other papers accumulated on his desk and coffee table. Thankfully, his couches and floors were free (for now). He’d spent a good chunk of the previous day meeting with the investigation team, whom he’d set to collecting the publicly available information on Black Rose. As expected, nothing obviously amiss had been discovered so far. Even so, it provided them with a good overview of the company’s ‘legal’ side of things, from its merchandise, to its travel routes and choice of transportation, to its profits and partners.

Pinned on a segment of his wall was a map of the kingdom where he’d marked the major areas of Black Rose’s activities. Mostly, it operated within their largest cities. It also dealt in international trade, but it was tricky getting reports beyond what happened in Caesonian ports. However, before dealing with any of the more remote areas, it seemed prudent to comb Sorian. Laid on his desk (under some more paperwork) was a veritable incident map, of all the incidents which had lately occurred in the city. There were two others potentially related to the party, or rather, to Delronzo. Those he’d designated to be thoroughly inquired into. Up to and including gathering rumors, as Hendrix had suggested.

Speaking of, he’d invited the man for a talk on business. It wasn’t purely for his personal interest anymore, given what had happened. Since he was going to be dealing with a successful merchant company, why not get the details on how such an institution operated from one of Delronzo’s rivals? With that in mind, he’d sent the count a letter last evening, requesting his presence this morning.

A gentle knock echoed through the room, interrupting the silence. On the opposite side of the door stood Ryn, cradling a towering heap of documents in his arms. Receiving no response, he tapped the door with his feet again.

“Yes?” there was the expected response, then. However, his visitor didn’t enter. Instead, there was another, firmer knock. Finding that slightly peculiar, the prince went ahead and opened the door himself. What greeted him was the sigh of Count Hendrix, though really, the man was mostly hidden behind his pile of papers.

“Good morning, Your Highness!” Ryn greeted the prince as soon as the door swung open. “I hope you’re in the mood for some ‘light’ reading.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Wulfric greeted him, undeniably amused. “More documents,” there was a laugh in his voice as he said it. Despite the joke, though, he wasn’t put off; if anything, he was intrigued.

“Do come in,” he gestured the other man inside. He waited until he entered, then closed the doors behind them. Because apparently, they’d be dealing with more writing, he cleared the mess on his coffee table - just to give in to having one of his couches occupied, and creating another there. As haphazard as he appeared to be in moving over his collection, there was a system there, even if one that made sense just to him. One that changed and shifted as he reorganized, but it was there. “Feel free to use that,” he indicated the table he was swiftly clearing.

As Ryn shuffled into the room, he glanced around, absorbing the chaos that overtook Prince Wulfric’s study. It was a cluttered haven of papers, papers, and more papers. The sight both fascinated and overwhelmed him.

Cautiously, Ryn made his way toward the table that the prince had cleared for him. He deposited his own assortment of papers on the surface, causing the tower to teeter uneasily. “I see you have been very busy.” He picked up a few wayward leaflets with Black Rose’s name inscribed on it and handed them over. “Have you made any progress in the investigation?”

Wulfric turned around, narrowed gaze fixing on his work being handled by a near-stranger. Shortly, however, he relaxed his expression and accepted the papers. “Thank you.” He supposed they might be working together in some capacity, even if he did find the count dubious. To the second question, he merely said, “Not nearly as much as I would like.” He deposited the last few sheets, and gave the other man a thoughtful look.

“But you were questioning some of the party attendees,” he stated it as a fact, even though he lacked confirmation. “Is this investigation something which you intend to be actively involved in?” Yes, after providing Delronzo’s name, Hendrix had offered further help. But he hadn’t exactly expected the count to be so…proactive. It was strange that he was taking part in an unofficial inquiry with Leo and Charlotte.

Ryn blinked at the prince’s sudden glare, then chuckled, a smile accompanying the action. The situation reminded him of his sister’s cluttered office and her sharp reactions whenever he moved anything. “Please forgive me, Your Highness. My intention was to ensure that nothing goes missing by accident. I will refrain from touching anything else. I understand that there is order to this chaos.” Slightly shifting his weight, he straightened his posture and clasped his hands behind his back.

“However,” Ryn continued, keeping his tone respectful, “since you mentioned your interest in learning about business, if you can also find it in your heart to forgive my bluntness, I believe it’s crucial for you to develop the ability to handle minor setbacks with stride. Otherwise, you risk imploding and losing sight of what truly matters.” It was a lesson his sister learned the hard way when she ventured into her own fashion business, Cotten & Silk. It was an ability he too needed to refine.

At the initial apology, Wulfric had merely nodded. But as the count went on, his brows slowly raised in surprise. “You don’t happen to be looking for a position as an advisor, do you?” he questioned rhetorically. While he wouldn’t appoint someone so unknown on a whim, the prince could appreciate the incisiveness and the respectful delivery both.

“I could be persuaded.” Though that entirely hinged on who “Wulfric” was and who he might be as king. “Returning to your previous question, I have promised to aid Lord Smithwood and Lady Vikena, so yes, I will be actively involved in the investigation. I hope this does not pose a problem.”

Wulfric smirked, as there seemed to be an underlying ‘there better not’. “It does make for more people who could get themselves in trouble.” For his next words, he lost the levity. “If you three intend to do more, beyond relatively harmless chats, that is…You should be aware of the risks associated.” He arched an eyebrow pointedly, because he assumed that of the three, Hendrix was. “And if you still insist, there are precautions to be taken.” He rolled a shoulder in a minor shrug. “Which we can discuss whenever I have occasion to meet with your little unofficial team.” He waved away the topic, and laid a palm on the uneven tower of papers.

Ryn’s eyes flickered with a fleeting shadow, the light within them momentarily dimming, but he held onto his smile. He simply nodded in compliance.

“For now, I suggest we move onto what we’ve met for in the first place; your business.” He blinked as he realized something, and gave a polite smile on reflex. “But first things first. Would you like some tea? Coffee?…Breakfast?” It wouldn’t behoove him to slack on his host duties; he’d already been remiss in not asking prior, but he’d got somewhat distracted with their conversation.

The count canted his head. Instead of answering the rather straightforward question, he asked, “Have you eaten breakfast, Your Highness?”

For the shortest of moments, Wulfric pondered whether he had, or whether he’d only intended to have it without actualizing that. Then, something occurred to him, and he shot Hendrix a look. “Oh, you want to nag me if I haven’t, is that it?” he guessed, because the man was proving to be a veritable busybody. “Or are you concerned that you would be eating by your lonesome, thus creating an imaginary offense?” He didn’t know how well-versed the count was in the minutiae of the guest-host etiquette pertaining to being offered a meal when the invitation hadn’t specified that there would be one, given the man had formerly been a commoner. But somehow, it seemed less likely that this is what he was worried about.

“Yes,” was all Ryn said at first. Then, an idea struck him. He gleamed with newfound enthusiasm as he proposed, “In fact, this presents a splendid opportunity. Why not allow me the honor of showing you what my family business does firsthand?”

His gaze scanned the room, searching. “Might you possess an article of clothing or eyewear that you rarely wear?”

“Show me…what exactly?” The offer appeared spontaneous, but that did not necessarily mean it was merely a flight of fancy on the count’s part. It struck him as too unusual to be a trap, or rather, if it were one, it would be exceedingly unorthodox. A set-up for a scandal, perhaps? But there’d be at least a basic disguise involved. So, maybe it was just about putting him in different situations and seeing how he’d react.

While Wulfric was studying the count, Hendrix was taking an interest in his office. The prince didn’t know what the other man thought he’d found. Largely, what was around were filing cabinets, then a few bookshelves, then displays and/or storage cabinets for maps, alcohol, art, weapons, and some other memorabilia. If it was attire he owned which he was rarely seen in, then it would be, “...Armour?” he suggested reluctantly.

“I...” Ryn stifled a giggle as he imagined them doing what he planned to do while wearing armor. “I would recommend something a little more casual, but I understand why you would exercise caution. Would you like to bring your sword with you?”

“I will be armed,” Wulfric confirmed. “For a casual outfit, I suppose I could borrow it, if it doesn’t matter that it would be ill-fitting…” he trailed off, and gave the count another pointed stare. “But you haven’t answered my question. What exactly are we doing, and why?”

“Oh, but I have, Your Highness. I am going to show you what my family’s business does, and I am showing you because you expressed interest in it.”

Almost an hour later, the count and the heir apparent—an array of weapons on his person—stood side by side in the palace’s kitchen, sequestered from the hustle and bustle of the cooks, scullery maids, and kitchen helpers. “Now then, what shall we try to make for breakfast?”

Having donned his ill-fitting borrowed attire, Ryn led Prince Wulfric down to the kitchen, where low-ranking servants diligently carried out their assigned duties. These servants, largely confined to the kitchen area and prohibited from roaming the castle, had seldom crossed paths with Prince Wulfric or his portraits, rendering them unfamiliar with his appearance. Consequently, it never occurred to them that the “sellsword” accompanying the Varian merchant was, in fact, their own prince.

Upon catching sight of Ryn, those who had spent time with him at the taverns enthusiastically greeted him, reminiscing about the previous night and suggesting that they should meet up again sometime. Those who had sampled the products he had distributed the day before, gathered, eager to provide their honest review. He attentively listened to each of them, meticulously jotting down notes and expressing his gratitude for their valuable feedback. Satisfied customers promptly placed their next order.

Once he had concluded his conversation with the last servant, Ryn requested permission to utilize a section of the kitchen in order to prepare breakfast for themselves.

Ryn looked up at Prince Wulfric, smiling, as he waited for the prince’s answer.

Unexpectedly, it was their very own castle kitchen Hendrix had led them to. Wulfric had frankly expected they’d be going on an excursion somewhere outside.

He shadowed the count, observing him intently while he “guarded” him. Though, really, there wasn’t even any acting involved; all he was doing was to keep silent, not explicitly draw attention to himself, and let the other man handle everything else. Obviously, this situation being so unexpected played a large part in the prince being unrecognized. But was it really that simple?

He’d been certain he was universally recognizable - within Caesonia and the two neighbouring kingdoms, at least - but apparently, that wasn’t strictly true for commoners. True, he’d never seen any of these servants’ faces either. He was only familiar with the kitchen in general because he’d visited a few times as a child, for purely adventurous reasons. Despite that, he thought it remiss on the part of royal retainers for them to be unfamiliar with one of their employers. And no, he didn’t happen to believe that he should be putting forth the kind of effort Hendrix was demonstrating to ensure that they would recognize him. However, he was positive that if any of his siblings showed up here, they would be known on sight, strange clothes or not.

Either way, the count was proving to be remarkably thorough. Wulfric could immediately recognize that with his demeanor, it wasn’t only his business that would benefit. Potentially, the count could also use that kind of rapport for intel gathering, infiltration, or even to sway someone to his side. That, that was concerning.

At Hendrix’s question, the prince gave him a dubious expression. “Unless it involves skinning, cutting, dicing or slicing,” he withdrew a dagger to showcase, and after an unnecessarily showy twirl, sheathed it, “I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do here.” It went without saying, but he didn’t cook.

Ryn’s hands came together in an enthusiastic applause as he watched the prince display his impressive skills, marveling with words of admiration. However, as his gaze lingered on Prince Wulfric, the clapping gradually died down. He was too focused on Count Hendrix, not on what should matter to him more: his people. The only time he showed anything besides indifference towards them was when they did not instantly recognize him. But how could they? The divide between their worlds was vast; they were too out of touch from each other’s reality.

To these ordinary people, the royalty were akin to weather—an impersonal force of nature capable of bringing both prosperity and destruction. They were untouchable, unstoppable, and familiar only by the impact of their actions, but faceless in their essence. “To learn…” the count said solemnly before regaining his cheery demeanor. “And to cook breakfast, Adel! I’m famished! Aren’t you? What do you think we can make?” He extended his arms wide, gesturing animatedly to the surrounding environment and inviting “sellsword Adel” to consider the possibilities for their culinary endeavor.

The prince’s skepticism deepened as the count made a show of clapping, and of supreme delight. He had to wonder if the man had ever been a professional actor, or some other type of entertainer. He issued a prolonged sigh when it became clear Hendrix was determined to see through his idea of making breakfast together. And that despite his (perhaps too subtle) resistance so far. Admittedly, he was too curious to outright refuse, or to simply leave. He didn’t mind seeing through a demonstration, and besides-

-this was obviously not just about creating a meal.

“Learning, hm?” Wulfric tilted his head at the count. Fritz had fleeting moments of sober intensity, and that had been one of them. He turned around to take in the environment, leaning against the countertop as he did so.

That particular line of conversation reminded him of his meeting with Lady Saiya, of all things. She’d spoken on knowing one’s people, and letting them learn from one. They’d also briefly touched upon the different ways of caring for one’s subjects.

But what was it with the insistence that he form some sort of bond or familiarity or who knew what else with them?

“There is no nation without its people.”

“They’re your people, and you can’t even be bothered. Will you rule like him?”

“Won’t you try to see? Just…look.”

Well, if it was a simple observation, he supposed he could. His fingers tapped idly against the surface behind him in a nonsensical rhythm as he watched the servants go about their work.

The scullery maids cleaned, the assistants prepared ingredients, and the cooks handled the finer details while supervising and directing their helpers. The proceedings were smooth, and clearly well-practiced. Even subtle non-verbal communication was enough to convey meaning between them. Though, various orders often had to be barked over the din. The organization was slightly reminiscent of their knights’ and the militia’s, in a way, which was rather impressive. All in all, the servants were far too busy to mind the two outsiders amidst them - which was, in Wulfric’s opinion, a security concern - though the occasional glance their way proved that their invasion wouldn’t be tolerated indefinitely.

Eventually, he glanced back at Hendrix. Quite casually, as if he hadn’t been ignoring the count for the past fifteen minutes straight, he answered the question. “Eggs and bacon should be simple enough.”

It wasn’t. Just finding the cooking utensils - skillet, spatula, wooden spoon - took some searching. So did procuring the ingredients.

But finally, everything that would be needed was prepared.

Which was when Wulfric discovered that eggs were even more fragile than he remembered, and that small pieces of shell had this annoying habit of getting exactly where they weren’t supposed to. He even had to extract one or two bits out of their would-be meal. He gave up on the idea of his eggs being sunny-side up almost immediately, and scrambled them instead. He had absolutely no clue when they were cooked enough; he knew what the end result was supposed to look like, but the thing he was working on seemed practically alien. Far sooner than he expected, their colouration and texture went from ‘slightly orange, somewhat runny’ to ‘very yellow, unpleasantly gummy’. But it was what it was, and the prince took them out.

…The excess oil didn’t want to shed.

He salvaged the situation as best he could with some napkins. Still, these eggs were very pitiful compared to what he was used to, and that was only judging by their appearance. He almost didn’t dare taste them, but he wouldn’t let mere eggs daunt him. He forked a piece, and brought it to his mouth.

“…” He didn’t say it, but his conflicted expression, as minute as it was, was telling enough.

There was a reason why cooking was considered an art, after all.

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Part II coming soon...

Avalia

Time: Morning Location: Port Vanarosa Mention(s): Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Ismael @Th3King0fChaos, Amisra @Tae Interaction(s): Fairy thug @princess Equipment Two short swords, two (concealed) daggers, two pistols, 415 amas.

The party's warnings fell on deaf ears, and the thugs decided to attack regardless. Well, if that’s how it’s gonna be. The battle began to unfold, his allies sowing chaos beneath. Words exchanged were muted this far up, but he could still hear the fairy insult him.

Say whatever you like… Still, a sharp glint entered Arlen’s eyes. As if the flier could speak when he was trying to hide too. He’d show the thug; coward or not, he would be the one to make it out in the end.

From behind a chimney, he tracked the fairy as he melded into the shadows. But the blonde was no dark elf. He was hidden well enough to prevent an accurate shot, true. But his guns weren’t his only means of attack. As soon as the fairy hid, and before the other guy found him, Arlen prepared and launched a series of small light blasts at him. This should blind the fairy, and while the thug was disoriented, the light elf fired at him once more.

However, his opponent would now know where he was. Provided he survived his first attack of opportunity, the fairy could easily find him; there weren’t many good ways to hide now that they were both above. Of course, Arlen still made note of each such spot, both on this roof and of those from the nearby buildings.

But his main course of action now would be to close the distance before the fairy recovered, and either finish him off quick or else try and get another attack in while the thug was at a disadvantage. “Let’s dance, pretty boy!” he taunted once close enough. He’d secured his other weapons, and withdrawn his two daggers. With so little space to maneuver, the shorter blades would work best.

TLDR

Sees the fairy hide, attacks him with light blasts. Shoots at the thug with a pistol, then closes the distance into melee with his daggers.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Outfit Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Late Morning Location: The Castle Gardens: Tea Party Mention(s): @Helo Callum, @Tae Mina and Count Sebastian, @princess Anastasia Interaction(s): @Tpartywithzombi Violet

Does she know something?

He’d seen the thinning of her lips; perhaps memories of her attack haunted her, and she was attempting to repress them.

“I am well, and so is my family, thank you,” he replied. Yet, he didn’t intend to let her off the hook that easily. He would have to try being gentle while still prodding her to find out what he could from her. “I would ask you the same, but alas…I do hope this event grants you some respite,” he said softly. “However,” his tone was low, as if soothing a wounded animal. “I believe you will be most at ease once your attackers have been dealt with. Do you know who did this to you?” he questioned.

Their conversation was briefly interrupted by the arrival of his youngest brother. Wulfric eyed him, feeling slightly apathetic as Callum made his spectacular entrance.

So much about that promise.

But he had already known not to count on it. Callum had been retrieved late at night two days ago, beaten up. For some reason, he’d gone on to pick a fight. Now, he was, as per the usual, putting on his finely refined spoiled brat act, and making himself into as much of a nuisance as he could.

The trumpet, the claimed epithet, the serving of cakes, all for their father to notice and be upset at. Ezra…Just for the hell of it, maybe? The tea party certainly didn’t need any more confectionery. The tables were already laden with various treats; scones with a selection of fillings, brightly coloured macarons, the finest bite-sized cakes, and several samples of lokum.

Have you ever thought that you make everything about him as much as he does? Wulfric hoped his brother could feel the gaze burning into his back. They might need another chat.

Obviously, if this was what he resorted to just to annoy Edin, Callum needed something better to do.

Wulfric made a mental note of the idea, then locked eyes with the peasant baker. If nothing else, this ploy of Callum’s just might be enough for Edin to disregard Ezra.

But then again, knowing their father…

One glance at Ezra proved the menace knew exactly what he was doing. Wulfric narrowed his gaze at the man, but left him be for the moment.

His distraction had lasted for a few seconds at most, and he turned back to Violet. “I hope that did not startle you too badly,” he said, referring to the horrendous noise his brother had produced. “Callum’s idea of entertainment, I’m afraid,” he commented mildly by way of explanation.

“Shall we go take a seat?” He issued the invitation to Violet, then glanced at the nearby group. If Mina, her uncle, and Anastasia were done chatting to each other, he was including them too.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Outfit Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Late Morning Location: The Castle Gardens: Tea Party Mention(s): @Helo Leo, @JJ Doe Fritz, @Potter Sadie, @Lava Alckon Drake, @FunnyGuy Alexander Interaction(s): @mantou Wystan, @Tae Mina and Count Sebastian, @Tpartywithzombi Violet

After his mystifying meeting with the ever-strange Count Hendrix earlier this morning, Wulfric spent some time in his office. He scoured the additional papers the count had lent him, comparing and contrasting the details of his business with that of Black Rose’s. Even with another point of reference, nothing about Delronzo’s company seemed amiss. So, either his legitimate fronts were actually legal, or else Marek was fully accustomed to making it seem as if his business was without issue. For a moment, he considered that the same might hold true for the count.

But no…

The prince frowned, because after their most recent meeting, he no longer thought it likely that Hendrix was some sort of Varian counterpart to Delronzo. The count was odd and secretive, certainly. Yet, it didn’t seem as if he was the type of man who would also deal heavily in the Black Market. Perhaps, he had contacts there, however. Either way, with how fixated Hendrix was on him as the heir apparent, the count’s motives and concerns struck him as rather political.

For another hour or so, the prince dealt with more paperwork.

Then, after standing, stretching, and getting changed into an appropriate outfit, he made his way to the Tea Party. He didn’t intend to delay there for long, but as the first prince, he should at the very least show up to greet the guests.

Since he made his way into the gardens through the castle, his entry point was different than most others’. Even so, Wystan was, as usual, a diligent presence one could not miss, stationed in the most optimal area to intercept the guests for a search.

As Wulfric strolled his way over to the guard, Count Blackwood and his niece made their appearance. As was her wont, Lady Mina promptly made herself into a nuisance as she attempted to flirt with the watchdog. So, she was up to her usual antics. How unfortunate.

“Good morning, Wystan,” he greeted the harried man as he approached.

“Lady Mina, please do not hassle our guard,” the prince rebuked her lightly, his smile polite, though he raised a pointed eyebrow at her. “Even overfriendliness,” his tone indicated he knew exactly what she was up to, “can hinder his duties. And indeed, we would not want any sneaking of weapons,” he retorted to the part of her comment he’d happened to overhear. He expected his words would be enough for her to stop bothering the royal retainer.

He gave an approving nod to her uncle, who had complied without issue. “Thank you, Count Blackwood. For one known to enjoy his solitude, I am certainly glad you have decided to attend. Welcome.” He gave the man a bow, and followed with one for his niece as well.

Having arrived just after the Blackwood pair, it was his turn to hand over his weapons. The prince removed them without fuss or ceremony. The sheathed sabre, the holstered pistol, and the dagger from within his jacket were all taken off and laid aside.

His gaze passed over the attendees. He caught the glances of several, and offered each a polite nod. To Lord Leo, who was frowning heavily at the violinist, apparently taking issue with the music. To Count Hendrix, who was – for some reason, now wearing a pair of glasses – familiar in his watchfulness. To Sadie, who had just waved enthusiastically to Lady Mina. She was seated with Lord Drake, while an unknown man stood nearby, conversing with the pair.

“I do believe Princess Sadie wishes to call you over,” Wulfric commented to Mina, a light note of fond amusement in his tone.

The suggestion that they make their way over was on the very tip of their tongue, when a carriage pulled up as close to the gardens as it could. Out of it emerged Lady Violet Damien. Even after learning that her murder had apparently not been of her, meeting her in person was startling.

The woman stumbled out of the carriage, her gait faltering even with assistance. The sun seemed to pose a problem to her downright deathly pallor. Her irises were a vibrant blood red, but wandered around aimless – sightless. She was expressionless and inert; if she were lying down, eyes closed, he would sooner believe her to be a corpse. Most conspicuous of all, there was a barely healed scar across her face. Just as if it had been left there by an axe lodged into her head.

The faintest thread of an unlikely possibility creeped into his mind.

“Lady Violet,” the prince greeted her with surprise. “So, it is true.” A cool smile formed as he tilted his head at her curiously. “That initial report of your death…was a mistake,” he murmured.

But had it been?

“Thankfully,” he added. Only those few in his immediate vicinity would have heard all he had said to her.

Though he appeared at ease, Wulfric remained subtly vigilant.

Because this…yes, this was something very peculiar indeed.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Date and Time: Sola 21st, Midnight Location: Bedroom balcony Mention(s): Interaction(s):

It was late into the night, but though the day had been thoroughly tiring, sleep had evaded the prince. He’d distracted himself with paperwork and planning. Eventually, he went into his room – but not yet to bed.

Wearing a luxurious dark blue nightgown, the thin silk of it caressing his skin, Wulfric retreated to the balcony attached to his bedroom. He brought along a glass with a drink he’d mixed, and a bottle of spirits.

He set the items on the railing. Then, leaning his hands on the rail, he jumped onto it in one swift, graceful movement. He settled himself on top; one leg folded at an angle, the other hung freely, swaying minutely. Not once did he glance down, unconcerned at the height. Instead, he tilted his head upwards, gazing at the starry night sky.

“To Midsummer,” he intoned. Any celebrations of such would be held in some three days, but astronomically, the solstice was on this very day.

His hand sought the chilled glass next to him. As his fingers made contact with the cold surface, he grasped it, and held it aloft. A strangely nostalgic smile formed as he lifted the drink, angling it this way and that. In the amber liquid within, he captured the image of the moon and the stars.

Wasn’t that the dream? To reach the stars?

An amused huff was issued as he suddenly remembered something. Is that why the moniker? He couldn’t help but wonder as he recalled the name ‘Starcatcher’.

“All the possibilities imaginable and not…” he murmured.

Perhaps it really was an indication of man’s unquenchable desire and ambition. To look up in awe, witness an amazing sight, and think, I want this.

Sometimes, Wulfric felt like his very spirit could get enflamed by such a fantastical notion. To have, and to conquer, to set forth a bright blazing trail–

But for what? Vengeance? Justice? Glory?

Just to see if he could?

Questions like that were what made him feel old. At least ten years too old. But no, even back then…

He shook his head to dismiss the notion, as confounding as it was melancholy.

“Longest day of the year, indeed,” he commented. With a dry chuckle, he took a sip of the cocktail. A long sigh left his lips, a note of pleasure colouring his tone. His eyes shut, lashes gently fluttering close, laying to a rest upon his cheeks.

When he opened them after a moment, his expression was tranquil. Yet his gaze was distant as he stared far, far beyond.

“What would you think of all this?” he queried quietly, the question seemingly directed at the sky.

What followed was a long period of silence. Though, interspersed with it was the occasional soundless movement of his lips. His expression remained largely blank with the exception of very minute changes here and there.

He reminisced on key events of the past several months, though largely focused on the present day. This was how these one-sided ‘chats’ tended to go, when he cared to have one.

Years ago, he had, from time to time, dared imagine what it would be like to hold a conversation if they were both right there, side by side. But now, he could barely recall the voice. It was the faintest whisper of a memory, faded with time, and lost to the past. He only had the vaguest ideas of the possible responses; how could he predict how a person might have been shaped by events they never had the chance to experience? Even that visage, as clear as it had once been, was now as ethereal as a phantom in a dream.

He finished his ponderings with a rare short prayer, barely heard. The soft utterance was entrusted to the winds to be carried onwards. “To the living and the dead; may our troubles be allayed, may your souls be ever at peace.” He concluded by finishing the last of his drink.

Wulfric rose, standing on the railing, and briefly closed his eyes. The breeze ruffled his hair, and susurrated against his silken outfit. He listened to the sounds of the night. The song woven by the wind blowing through the trees, rustling their leaves. The waters offering a pleasant background melody, the gentle lapping of the waves reaching even this far in the relative silence of the night, the rush of a distant waterfall heard as a soft hiss. The intermittent sounds of animals; crickets chirping, the bark of a dog, the hoot of an owl, the braying of a horse. The sounds of people; hushed and muted segments of conversations of those still awake, the clip-clop as a lone rider rode along the empty roads.

Opening his eyes, he watched the city for a moment longer, then hopped down. Before heading back inside, he poured another drink. From within a pocket, he withdrew a lighter and, carefully moving it close to the glass, lit the alcohol on fire. It blazed aflame; sudden, powerful, and eager. Wulfric stared at its playful, whimsical dance as it consumed his offering. In the end, he clinked the liquor bottle against the glass. “Cheers.”

Finally, he returned inside, leaving the flaming drink behind on the balcony.

Maybe it was pure sentimentality, but it was his way of sharing with someone who was gone.

Avalia

Time: Morning Location: Port Vanarosa Mention(s): Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Ismael @Th3King0fChaos Interaction(s): Captain Drosis @Blizz, Amisra @Tae Equipment Two short swords, two (concealed) daggers, two pistols, 410 amas.

“Got it, captain,” Arlen nodded at the response. The older elf was right, no need to worry about what ifs. They had better things to do.

“The child works,” Arlen smirked. “Our adopted little menace, hm?” he huffed, amused, continuing the impromptu massage. He could feel her tension dissipating, and a warm, happy smile formed. He was glad he’d been able to help her relax, even if just for a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” he returned quietly, tone brimming with the care he held for his friend. When she leaned into him, he offered her a gentle hug from behind. Then, feeling she was ready to get up, he let her go. Before she stood up, she glanced back, catching his gaze. Arlen held it, expression openly fond as he grinned at her.

He huffed a laugh at Amisra’s decision, backed up by the captain’s assertion. “You’re right, if they didn’t get into trouble by now, we should be asking if they’re still the people we know,” he joked.

The captain led the way out, and he followed Drosis alongside Amisra. When the dark elf princess looked at him, he gave her a firm nod. If Tanithil and Ismael were in a situation, they’d just help them out of it.

He scanned the alleyways as they traversed the city’s least reputable streets – and that was saying something.

Amisra was the first to notice their wayward allies. He had to press a fist against his mouth to stop a chuckle, smiling at her antics. He wasn’t concerned about the thugs; his group outnumbered, outskilled, and overpowered them easily. Unless the thugs had some backup somewhere, this wouldn’t be difficult.

Despite his confidence, Arlen retained a level of caution as he scaled a nearby building’s wall, unseen to the enemy. Once on the roof, he fired one of his pistols – intentionally missing, but nearly grazing the fairy.

Then, just in case any of the four thugs were smart enough to look up, he stealthily moved alongside the roof, changing his position. If the thugs left, good. If they were stupid enough to stay, the next bullet would be going through someone’s head. Arlen reloaded, waiting to see what happened.

TLDR

Talks with the captain and Amisra before following them, only to find Ismael and Tanithil surrounded by thugs. Climbs a wall, gets onto the roof, and fires a warning shot. Reloads, getting ready to kill if the four thugs don't leave.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Leo & Wulfric
1st part of skip day collab

Date: Sola 22nd
Time: Late afternoon

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Earlier today, Lord Leo had sent him an invitation for an outing in the late afternoon, which Wulfric had responded to with an affirmative. He had wanted to meet with the man regardless, as they had only spoken to each other at the ball, and even then, very briefly. The Varian lord had suggested a companionable horse ride, a notion the prince was rather looking forward to. Any discussions could wait until after that. Especially after the hours spent with paperwork, organizing the investigation team, and planning for its approach, he was quite ready for a breath of fresh air. Both literally and figuratively. After so much sitting, standing, and pacing, he was in dire need of exercise. The hour or so he’d got in in the morning felt unreasonably long ago.

They’d arranged to meet at the stables south of the athletic arena. As for Wulfric, he’d arrived on horseback from the castle; they did have a smaller stable for personal use there. His steed was a gorgeous black Andalusian named Antioch, also called Tio. They’d traversed the short distance at an intermediate walk. There was quite some traffic at this time of the day, with various eateries, cafés, and tea houses beginning to fill out as people went out to enjoy early dinner. The food stalls were also the choice for many; despite their popularity, the prince personally did not see the appeal of such snacks.

Despite the moderate crowding, the way was made for him without any indication from the prince whatsoever. Admittedly, this was pleasing. Where appropriate, Wulfric offered a curt nod, or even casually raised his hand in greeting. Instead of bothering with guards, he was simply armed himself, and he was certain that did not go unnoticed either. Aside from his status, it was a good deterrent and warning to any fools.

When he caught sight of the Varian lord, Wulfric greeted him with a warmly polite tone. “Lord Leo,” he gave a respectful nod. “Thank you for your invitation.”

A not-so-distant whistle resounded, announcing the arrival of a train at the station. “Say…” Wulfric turned to his companion with a glimmer of challenge in his gaze. “How about a race? Let’s catch up to that train before it departs. Then whoever’s first to the outer boundary of the city wins?” he suggested.

“Prince Wulfric,” A respectful nod of his head as he directed his horse towards the other man. “Far too nice a day to be spent cooped up. Thank you for accepting.” His eyes lit up at Wulfric’s suggestion. He glanced at the train pulling in, the ears atop the chestnut horse’s head twitched toward the sound but showed little concern for it.

“A challenge? Accepted of course.” He patted Menace on the shoulder, “Think you can outrun a train?” He asked the horse who only snorted. Leo didn’t think the train would be much of a problem, the prince’s horse, however, looked like a fast one.

Menace was, at least in Leo’s mind, a good horse. Well-muscled and an ideal hunting companion; not easily spooked, confident enough to chase down nimble prey, and strong enough to carry said prey back. While Leo would simply describe Menace as fiercely loyal, anyone else who had dealt with the creature found Menace to be a fitting name.

The young lord took a deep breath as he lined up himself and Menace with Wulfric and his horse, waiting for the race to begin. “You know, I watched a similar-looking horse almost win a race the other day.” He added, it wasn’t true competition without a little taunting.

“I’ve definitely spent too much of today cooped up already,” he commented in agreement with Leo’s remark. He smirked at the man’s show of interest in the issued challenge, and glanced at his horse. It seemed like it’d make for decent competition to his.

He chuckled dryly at the barb. “Oh, you just keep on watching. You’ll be left in the dust,” he quipped back. Wulfric then raised a hand, and gave them the starting signal. “See you whenever you get there,” he called cheekily as he spurred on his horse.

Antioch was exceptionally trained, and they’d rode together so often, guiding him felt quite intuitive, with rider and steed both accustomed to each other’s tells. The horse worked up to a canter in no time as Wulfric led him onto a less-used path behind the education buildings. They sped along the forested path. There were some youths there, though they scattered to the side at their approach. They watched in clear fascination, and started to cheer - whether because they realized an impromptu race was occurring, or merely because it was him passing.

As they closed in on the intersection with the road to the west, the prince peered through the treeline carefully. With some calculated maneuvering, they managed to cross the more populated route safely even at their high speed. At his guidance, Tio skillfully weaved in between the buildings as well. A few hoofbeats later, and they freed themselves of those last few trees, emerging right by the railway. An easy powerful jump landed them on the other side of the tracks. Now, with no other obstacles in the way, Antioch could freely gallop.

The duo sped on the low-grassed area by the tracks. The train was still for now, but with the last passengers getting on, it would start up soon. The challenge was not to be overtaken either by machine or man. Wulfric kept entirely focused on the path ahead as they approached the train station.

The whistle resounded once again, signaling the train’s departure. It was easy enough to overtake it - for now. The mechanical noise drowned out all other sound, but the prince’s steed merely flicked its ears back in annoyance, otherwise not bothered. “Come on,” Wulfric urged him on. That train would accelerate, and inevitably, it would be able to overtake him eventually. It was just a matter of getting to the designated goal faster than either it or their rival Leo.

Prince Wulfric gave the signal, and with a shout and a snap of the reins, Leo and Menace were off. Everything else faded. There was Leo, his horse, and the path ahead, the rest was just background noise. Hooves smacked against the ground, the wind blew against his skin. Slight adjustments to the reigns directed Menace who matched Leo’s focus. Wulfric knew the terrain better and split off onto a side street just off the main road. By the time Leo noticed it was too late to follow.

So straight down the much busier Victorian avenue, he rode. The busier street slowed him down even as Menace avoided obstacles before Leo even needed to give direction. Chasing deer in the woods was not too different from this. Swerving around pedestrians who stood like confused trees, not quite bright enough to simply move out of the way. Behind him, an agitated cart pusher shouted about wares spilled into the street as a result of the disruption. It was barely audible over the sound of the train whistle which took precedence. When one enters a contest, even a friendly one, with a man like Wulfric, anything less than best efforts would be an insult.

Menace galloped forward, nearing the trees that aided in blocking the sounds of trains for the townspeople. Pounding hooves gave way to a moment of silence as the horse leapt across the train tracks. Wulfric and Antioch were already on the other side, galloping ahead with an impressive lead.

The two horses continued to gallop ahead of the train as it started to move. Antioch maintained a solid lead, a clear advantage had been earned by the man who chose the wiser path. Menace fought hard to close the lead, and while the chestnut steed did not tire easily, he could not outpace the swifter horse. Leo was not losing to a train, he kept his form aligned with the horse. His shouts were barely heard over the train whistle that encouraged the steed to move faster as the finish line was in sight.

The train chugged behind both riders, gradually beginning to accelerate. It was right on their tailends, and even with the advantage of their initial speed and the distance already gained it was slowly but surely catching up. It was a short distance behind them, just on their tail-end.

However, the goal was right there!

With the gained lead, Wulfric and his steed breezed past the city’s walls. There was no one in front of them, which meant–

Yes!

The surge of exhilaration prompted him to continue, just to see how long they could hold against the train. But the machine was tireless, limited only by the fuel available and its design - and the latter proved beyond doubt that it was man’s inventive ingenuity which prevailed against any animal. In the next few meters, it accelerated past what any horse could possibly ever hope to achieve.

It clattered past them, the noise overwhelming for a moment, steam billowing above it as reverberations could be felt in one’s bones. As it passed them by, Wulfric had the momentarily insane idea of jumping onto the train for some reason. Smiling at the ridiculous whimsy, he commanded Antioch to slow down.

Mount and rider watched for a moment as the machine continued onwards, growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared beyond the horizon.

Then, the prince motioned for Tio to turn around, and the duo slowly approached their competitors. “Well, that was fun.” Despite the entirely casual statement, there was a clear wildness in his gaze. A sign of his thrill, and the unquenched desire for more. But the prince’s posture was so thoroughly relaxed and languid, it truly was questionable if he was simply unaware of it, or ignoring it.

As Wulfric continued past the finish line, Leo followed close behind him, until the train pulled ahead and continued out of the city. He watched the screaming hunk of metal barrel through the forest, impressive in its speed, obnoxious in its sound. He relaxed back into the saddle and Menace slowed his pace as they caught up to Wulfric. He offered Menace some congratulatory pats for having bested the train.

Leo took a deep breath and savored the air as Menace began to walk at a leisurely pace. “Far better way to travel, fresh air, proper appreciation for the scenery, and an active role.” When riding a horse, or even in a carriage, the rider had a measure of control over the journey. “A sorry day, when men lose appreciation for the journey and simply sit and wait for it to end.” He added.

“I can’t think of a more enjoyable way to travel than riding,” Wulfric agreed, stroking Tio’s neck appreciatively. “But if speed is of the essence, then a train is the better choice. Though, it does seem a matter of convenience and comfort for most,” he commented.

“That was a good showing, Lord Leo,” he then complimented. Because despite his home advantage, Leo and Menace had done well. “We should do this again sometime,” he suggested.

“A clever victory.” Leo complimented Wulfric’s careful navigation. “And a stunning horse.” He added, admiring the creature for a moment. A striking image the other horse and rider made, the fair-haired prince and midnight-coated steed. “I’d never turn down a challenge.”

“Thank you,” he smirked, allowing the other man to admire him and his trusty steed. “And I shall be looking forward to that.”

Avalia

Time: Morning Location: Port Vanarosa Mention(s): Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Ismael @Th3King0fChaos Interaction(s): Captain Drosis @Blizz, Amisra @Tae Equipment Two short swords, two (concealed) daggers, two pistols, 405 amas.

“Yeah, I know.” Arlen smiled softly, and returned the hand-squeeze as they made their way to The Seagull. Once there, both took their seats, and listened to what the captain had to say.

Arlen just nodded at what Captain Drosis said, seeing no issues with it. He drummed his leg as he listened to the conversation, feeling restless. “Spot guards acting unusual, got it,” he summarized. At Amisra’s question, he turned a questioning look on her. “Yup, ‘course, I am.”

He made to get up, leaning his hand on the table, but something occurred to him just then. “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t be saying what Ismael is though?” He was genuinely confused why they were saying out loud anything about a human. Even if only their mates were around, and it didn’t look like anyone was listening in. “Seems like a bad habit if we don’t wanna be the ones to give it up,” he commented with a wry smile.

He then settled back down, and hung around for a drink or two. “Think he could suspect sumthin’ without getting the word from us?” There was no need to say who ‘he’ was. The particular emphasis on it made it clear Arlen was referring to the so-called king of Avalia.

He’d thought so far the deal was not saying anything on their end, and making sure each group’s human didn’t stick out badly enough to arise suspicion. But if the other side could figure something’s up without that? It’d be a different sort of mission entirely. He hoped not, because secrecy was their best advantage…for now.

“Well, either way, we’ll be on the lookout,” he met Amisra’s gaze, nonverbally acknowledging and returning the trusting consideration.

“Speaking of…” he stood up and stretched. “Should we check up on those two already?” He walked to Amisra, and laid his hands on her shoulders. Noticing the tension – which was the usual for her when she got serious – he gave her an impromptu shoulder rub.

“Or take a walk ‘round the city, see if anything unusual’s happenin’?” He let her make the call, though obviously, if the captain had a say, they’d do that. While waiting for the answer, his fingers dug into the princess’ shoulders, doing some work to relieve that stress. Expertly, he found any muscle knots, and with careful yet accurate application of pressure, undid them. Being a wonderful masseuse was just one of many skills in his arsenal.

Amisra probably wouldn’t let him do it for long, what with being so gung-ho about any tasks, missions, and work in general. Still, even a little could help.

TLDR

Agrees to the captain's task, has some input about 'human' being the forbidden word, gives Amisra a shoulder-rub.