Trash Panda

Let Me Steal Your Heart [BuzzingBee + Dagger]

Heading for the main entrance of the castle, Crow drew his cloak more tightly around his shoulders in anticipation of the icy winter air. Ever since he’d figured out that exercise helped with his nightmares, he made a point to get his heartrate up whenever he had the time. He rarely managed to escape the palace walls though, and even though it was frigid outside, he wanted to feel the sun on his face. The unpleasant weather wasn’t enough to keep him locked up indoors. Once he started moving, he knew he would warm up anyway.

The viceroy stepped outside, feeling blood rush to his cheeks as the wind bit at his exposed skin. It was colder than he’d expected, but he pressed through the discomfort and made his way to the knights’ training ground, expecting the fields to be empty while all the noblemen took refuge in their barracks or the castle. Fortunately, his guess had been right. All of their equipment had been protectively covered and left beneath a thin sheet of snow. He could hear the sound of voices in the distance, coming from the closest barracks, but the rest of the area was silent. It was just what he’d been hoping for.

Stepping over to the weapons, he lifted the animal skin cover off the archery supplies and picked up a bow and quiver. It had been quite a while since he’d last practiced with the long range weapon, so it was about time for him to brush up on his skills. He shouldered the collection of arrows, shivering slightly as the cold air began to seep through his clothing, and made his way over to the targets that had been set up. A thin sheet of snow covered each one, so he took some time to brush it off before he backed away again to set up his bow.

Fighting to keep his hands steady, he reached over his shoulder to draw the first arrow and notched it against the string. His eyes were fixed on the target he’d picked, and his breathing slowed as he focused. Archery had become somewhat meditative to him since he’d gotten better at it. When he loosed arrows from one spot without moving around too much, it had a calming effect. However, didn’t need to calm down right now.

Cocking the bowstring back to the corner of his mouth, he only held it for half a second before he released the arrow at the target. It struck to the left of the bullseye, but instead of reloading the weapon, he took off at a sprint to the right of the target, stopped quickly, and steadied himself as he fixed a second arrow into the bow. He loosed it again and repeated the process, practicing his speed as he repositioned himself, took in the new angle, and shot at the target from different places in the field.

He kept at the routine for a while—he wasn’t sure how long—and even removed his cloak at one point when the thick fabric grew too warm to wear against his heated skin. Muscles burned from exertion, but he relished the feeling. It meant he had a chance to stave off the nightmares that plagued him during the night.

Eventually, he became too tired to continue, and he sat down in the frozen grass, watching his breath cloud in front of his nose as he panted. The sun had sunk close to the horizon, and the training grounds were getting dark. He was just beginning to wonder if he had time to visit the bath house before supper when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Collin?”

The viceroy twisted at the waist to see that someone was approaching him from behind. He stared for a moment, struggling to distinguish the man’s face in the darkness, until he realized it was Percival. The knight was fully dressed in his armor and was resting a hand loosely against the hilt of his sword.

“Oh, hey,” Crow greeted him breathily, still breathing heavily after his archery session. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” Percival frowned.

“Yeah? Well, I asked you first,” Crow smirked at him cheekily. He didn’t get along with most nobles in the inner kingdom, but the knight had grown on him more than anyone else he’d met, aside from his own sister. Percival had shown some empathy toward the people of the outer villages when they’d talked about the war weeks ago, and he seemed to be the only noblemen among the viceroy’s “friends” who wasn’t trying to get anything from him. He still didn’t trust the man as much as Naida or Preston, but he had softened enough to be friendly.

Percival eyed him for a moment longer before he answered, “I was on my way back to the barracks after a guard shift. Your turn.”

“Practicing,” Crow said taciturnly, gesturing at the bow he’d left on the ground by his side.

“Hm,” the knight grunted, glancing between the weapon and the targets that had been littered with arrows. “In this weather?”

“I like a challenge,” the former thief shrugged, climbing to his feet and brushing the ice off the backside of his trousers. “It’s harder to aim when you’re shivering, and it’s harder to pull back the string when your fingers are numb.”

“Easier to catch a cold though,” Percy pointed out.

“Touché,” Crow conceded with a grin. “Anyway, I’m done now. Supper will be served soon. Are you hungry?”

The knight nodded, “I was going to take off my armor before I go to the Great Hall.”

“Great. Maybe I’ll see you there,” the viceroy turned away from him to put his cloak back on and collect his arrows.

Percival was quiet again for a moment before he strode over to one of the targets and began pulling arrows free from the wood. Crow casted him a quizzical look, and he lifted his broad shoulders, “I’ll help. My hands aren’t numb.”

Crow blinked and looked down at his own hands, which had lost feeling to the cold a while ago. It would have taken him a lot longer to retrieve all the arrows by himself in his current state. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, resuming his collection.

The reticent knight grunted again, and the two lapsed into silence as they gathered the projectiles to be put away with the rest of the weapons.

Let Me Steal Your Heart [BuzzingBee + Dagger]

Yeah, John is probably gonna become way more of a father figure to him when he realizes Albin is still a snake cx

Let Me Steal Your Heart [BuzzingBee + Dagger]

After Hunter had left the room, Crow and his father resumed working on his lesson for the day. The viceroy practiced reading, writing and conversing in Gorman to prove that he was fluent enough to handle the pressure of conducting a formal meeting with native speakers, and by the end of it, the king lauded his rapid progress. Although he hoped the trip to northern kingdom would fall through, Albin’s praises warmed the former thief. It felt good to be recognized for his achievements by the only living family member he had left—excluding the half siblings he had only learned existed about a month ago. He had never thought he would want anything to do with the man who had abandoned him and his mother twenty-three years ago, but now, sitting in Albin Mannering’s bedchamber, he was more content than he’d ever dreamed possible. Finding his family late had been better than not finding it at all, he supposed.

Having been sitting for more of the afternoon, Crow and his father both stood to stretch their legs when they were done going through all the material the king had laid out. “Well, all that’s left now is to prepare your supplies and guards and gather the council to discuss the acceptable terms of the negotiation,” Albin groaned, arching his back. “At this rate, we may even be able to send you on your way at the end of three days.”

“I thought I had more time,” Crow frowned, unsettled by his father’s urge to push the deadline up yet again.

“What do you need more time for?” Albin sighed. “The sooner we enlist our allies to help, the sooner this war will end. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes,” the viceroy admitted reluctantly. “But I haven’t even had this title for longer than a month, and I’ve only left Brerra once before. It just feels like everything is happening so fast.”

“There’s nothing wrong with feeling nervous, Collin,” Albin smiled at him amusedly. “I was nervous on my first assignment too. However, I can’t keep putting this off until you feel ready. Trust me, it’s better to just get it over with rather than cause yourself unnecessary stress by thinking about it for days on end. You’ll thank me later.”

“I guess so,” Crow mumbled, wishing that he could tell his father that he wasn’t nervous about the assignment itself, but the king with whom he was supposed to be negotiating. The warning Toreus had given Penelope lingered in his head. While Albin’s plan sounded foolproof, he knew it wouldn’t work. Not as long as there was a literal god telling them that they only had one choice if they wanted to save their kingdom from monumental destruction. He took a deep breath. If he could have just told his father that a deity had said had to seek peace with Younis, it would have been easier. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of any possible way that conversation could end without ending in his sanity being questioned, so he kept his mouth shut.

In the next moment, another knock sounded on the door, sparing Crow from a lengthier lecture about how he should handle his assignment in Gorm. “Come in,” Albin called, clearly used to being sporadically interrupted by visitors.

This time, it was Braden who entered. The second born son’s eyes flicked toward the viceroy and narrowed briefly before he turned to his father. “A report just came in from baron Harold’s battalion,” he announced stoically. “They’ve had to fall back to Troutbeck and are requesting aid to reconquer Redwick and Sutton.”

“Damn it,” Albin exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to take at least a week for supplies to reach that far west. I have half a mind to put someone else in charge of that region if Harold is incapable of holding our territory.”

“I’d suggest baron Fordwin,” Braden crossed his arms. “He’s an excellent tactician who would do well on the frontlines.”

“Send him with the next wagon,” the king waved his hand dismissively, obviously disinterested in who the other baron’s replacement would be.

“Baron Harold is actually waiting in your council chamber now,” Braden notified him tentatively. “You might want to tell him yourself.”

“Of course he is,” Albin muttered. “That fool doesn’t know how to manage his men. In fact, I’ll relieve him of the burden right now.” He turned to Crow, who had been listening to the conversation with a nonplussed look on his face, unsure what to make of the situation since he wasn’t educated in warfare. “You’re free to go early, Collin. It seems I have an incompetent baron to deal with.”

“O-okay,” the viceroy nodded. He had no interest in getting involved with the fate of a man he’d never met, so he eagerly stepped out of the room. Braden casted him a smug look as he passed, seeming pleased that he was more useful to their father in the current moment than his half-brother. Crow ignored him. While the crown prince could best him in the intricacies of war, he could skip circles around him when it came to foreign cultures and languages. Knowing that made it easy for him to brush off his younger sibling’s hostile behavior.

With plenty of time left before supper, he headed back to his bedchamber to get his cloak, deciding he might as well find something to do outside of the castle walls while he had a chance.

Match Up in Malibu [Bee & Summer]

As soon as he felt Anna settle on top of his shoulders, Jett came back up for air. It had been a long time since he’d last played chicken—he hadn’t even heard talk of the game since he was a teenager—but after watching the first two teams go at it, he felt like he remembered enough to give himself and Anna a real shot at winning. As much as he could, anyway. She would be doing most of the work while he just held onto her legs and prayed that she wouldn’t accidentally choke him if she fell backwards. As a professional singer, anything that could damage his throat was a threat to his career. He was sure that his manager would have killed him if he’d found out that he was even participating in a tournament like this.

Eyeing the competition, he couldn’t tell which team would beat the other any more than Anna could. Almost everyone who had joined the cast of the show was athletic, so it would probably come down to who wore out the other first. He could feel her shifting her weight against the back of his neck as she prepared for the first round, just like an athlete warming up for a match. Whether or not it would help was to be determined, but he found the motion kind of hot. Personal squabbles aside, he would have been lying if he’s said he didn’t like having an attractive woman pressed so close to him, skin on skin. The sensation made being paired up with her a little more bearable.

When the host finished talking, the game began. Jett did his part by holding onto Anna and maneuvering in the water to help her shove Ashley. At first, the two girls seemed to be equal, with neither one gaining the upper hand, and he guessed they were just going to have to wait and see who tired out first. However, after they had been pushing against each other for about a minute, he blinked in surprise when Anna suddenly switched to a twisting motion to pull Ashley off Nathan’s shoulders. She wasn’t an engineer for nothing. The trick worked in their favor as Ashley fell into the pool with a splash.

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” he glanced up at Anna, marveling at the show of creativity. Though he hadn’t yet forgiven her for her derisive comment at breakfast, it was hard for him to stay mad when he saw the grin on her face. Her excitement was infectious. If they kept up at this rate, they might even be able to win the whole competition. He grinned back at her, “I don’t know what the hell just happened, but do it again. I think it’s working.”

Let Me Steal Your Heart [BuzzingBee + Dagger]

Finally, haha. He owed her that for so long

Meanwhile, Crow is starting to get caught in Albin's web of lies ^^;

Let Me Steal Your Heart [BuzzingBee + Dagger]

“Did you enjoy the festivities last night?” Albin asked, flipping idly through the pages of an oversized tome.

Crow had changed into new clothes quickly in his room and arrived at his father’s private chambers to find that the table was covered once again with foreign literature. The time was drawing near for his “departure” to the kingdom of Gorm, so the king had chosen today to test how far his ambassador had progressed. Currently, he was poring over a number of books in search of texts that he deemed challenging enough to tell if the former thief was ready to handle a real negotiation in a second language. He’d stacked the acceptable ones in a pile that was creeping high enough to make his apprentice squirm under the mounting pressure.

Tearing his gaze away from the small mountain of tomes, Crow pondered Albin’s question. He had enjoyed some parts of the party, particularly the flavorful food and Penelope’s speech, but the discomfort of spending time with noblewomen who had been trying to flirt with him and then seeing Cedric kiss the one woman he wanted all to himself had casted a shadow over the memory. “Sometimes I forget that there’s more to nobility than routine and responsibilities. Last night was a nice break from studying,” he said, smoothly dodging the question with the vague reply.

Since the viceroy had come far in his lessons, the two conversed casually in Gorman, giving Crow the chance to brush up on his ability to talk without pausing to translate the words in his head first. He felt like he had been doing well so far. He still faltered sometimes and was aware that he had a thicker Brerratic accent than his father did, but for the most part, he could speak the language almost as fluently as his native tongue.

“Were you hungover when you woke up this morning?” a smirk crossed Albin’s lip, his gaze lifting from the open book to his estranged son’s face.

“No,” Crow shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not fond of drinking to excess.”

“Is that so?” the king mused and then chuckled. “I wonder if you’re really my son. When I was your age, I spent more time than I care to admit drinking in taverns with my friends.”

“If I’m not your son, my mother had a very specific type,” Crow smiled amusedly, meeting Albin’s identical green eyes. Although their lesson today was pointless—assuming the king would listen to Penelope’s petition and send him to Younis instead of Gorm—he liked talking with his father in the foreign tongue. It was the only time they were able to broach the subject of their shared blood, since the servants in the room and the queen couldn’t understand what they were saying.

Despite the warnings from his mother and John, he was steadily warming up to the king. Albin had a way about him that made it easy to relax. He was friendly and relatable, not at all the vision of evil that he’d braced himself to expect. Perhaps his father had been a horrible man at one point in time, but as far as Crow could tell, it seemed like he’d changed for the better.

Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door, and Albin called out in Brerratic: “Come in.”

Craning his neck, Crow watched as Hunter stepped into the room. The servant closed the door behind him and bowed deeply to his master. “Your Highness,” he greeted, straightening his posture again. “One of your lieutenants has requested an audience.”

“Which lieutenant?” Albin queried, nonchalantly thumbing through another tome.

“Penelope Vermillion.”

“I see,” the king frowned. He tapped his finger twice on the table, thinking for a moment before he spoke again. “Tell her that I’m busy, but I’ll make time for her sometime next week if I have an opening in my schedule.”

Crow casted his father a sideways glance. Albin probably knew what the knight wanted to discuss, since she had already brought up the subject of seeking a peaceful end to the war once before. The king was going to put off their next meeting until after he was sent on his way to Gorm.

“I think you should meet with her sooner,” he suggested before Hunter could leave. “She’s part of the group that wants the war to end, right? Maybe they’ll stop pestering you if you reason with her rather than go through with your plan without talking to anyone who opposes it first.” He bit his lip, hoping his father would take the bait.

Albin was quiet for another moment. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll meet with her this evening. Hopefully this will put an end to those ridiculous do-gooders.”

“Very well, My Lord,” Hunter bowed again and turned to leave the room.

Crow watched him go with a thinly veiled smile. He’d done as much as he could to help. Now, he just hoped his father would be receptive to the reasoning Penelope could come up with to convince him to negotiate with Younis.

~Bonsoir~

Remembering exactly where he had left the book the last time he’d set it down, Vail made quick work of retrieving it the second time. He strode quietly down the stairs that led to the archive, keeping a halfhearted watch for his relatives even though he was sure that everyone had already retired to their rooms for the night. Those that were still awake would have gone out to hunt a while ago and wouldn’t be back anytime soon either. The manor was silent apart from his careful footsteps, and the trip was pleasantly uneventful.

As expected, the tome was on the same shelf he had placed it on during his last visit, so he pulled it down and headed back to his own room to look through it with Victoria. There was no guarantee that it held the answers they were looking for, but it was the best chance they had. Peter had been firm in his decision to remove her from the Hygrace family’s property as soon as she was ready to go tomorrow. As far as either of them knew, this was the last night that they could spend in search of a way to turn her into a vampire. He hoped transmutation, whatever it was, could be the ritual that his uncle had described to him in the past.

When he got back to his room, Vail closed the door behind him and made his way over to the bed. “This,” he said to Lady Crest, holding up the leather-bound book. “Should be what we’re looking for.” Settling down on the mattress with his back propped against the headboard, he gestured for her to sit beside him and cracked the tome open on his lap. The pages inside were covered from top to bottom with fine print and hand drawn depictions of humans and vampires, differentiated by fangs that protruded from the mouths of the latter.

He studied the images with interest before focusing on the text. “It’s written in Romanian,” he noted, recognizing the characters right away. “It’s been a few decades since I’ve last read this language, but I think I can still translate.” His eyes flitted over the words as he skimmed the first few pages. The beginning of the book was a detailed record of family lineages, names of vampires who had turned humans, and the names of the humans whom they had turned. It was interesting content, and he would have spent more time poring over it if they had more than just one night to do so. However, for the sake of getting to the point, he flipped past the anecdotal accounts until he found a page with a promising title.

“Ritual de schimbare. Transformation ritual,” he read aloud, heartbeat quickening with anticipation. It had to be the information they were after. The related drawing was somewhat confusing though. He knitted his brows, unsure what to make of it. From what he could tell, it just looked like a vampire feeding on a human. Fangs were buried in the neck, and the victim’s mouth was agape is if he was in shock or pain. It was no different than what he did to satisfy his bloodlust on an average basis, but none of the people he fed on had ever turned into vampires. There had to be something else going on, so he turned back to the text in search of the answer.

~Bonsoir~

That's fun. We're staying with my parents until Sunday and then heading home. Everyone else also left recently, so I can start working intermittently on my next post now! I should be able to get it done tonight.

~Bonsoir~

Oh okay. Do you have work or anyplace to be? My family is spending the day drinking mimosas, haha. I’ve got a post started, but I’ll probably finish it later this evening or tonight after everyone leaves.

~Bonsoir~

Oh no xD I’ve never had mince pie. The alcohol isn’t cooked out of it?