awkkkwaarrddd . . . [ HELP ME BERLUS D8 ]

[Mimi]

Oh...dear...lord. How in the world did Christian get stuck in this situation? Was it a crime to sit on a stone bench in search of some reprieve? If so, Christian swore he'd never, ever do such an abominable thing again...just, please, dear God, let her stop...doing whatever she was doing!

A small girl, who looked no older than fifteen, led Christian about the castle in a cursory tour following his friendly chat with the Duke of Moorsholm earlier that morning. Well, he supposed it wasn't exactly a "tour". She concentrated on the servants' quarters and in accommodating Christian with the location of certain supplies. He now knew that the brooms were kept in a wayward closet on the east side of the castle, the brushes were kept on the second shelf of that same closet, and the water pumps - seven to be exact - were scattered everywhere else for emergency purposes. ("For example," she explained, "if the Prince were dying from a sudden bout of unquenchable thirst.") Christian listened as best as he could, but unfortunately, that seemed to be all the information he gleaned from the two hour lesson. He'd been so curious that he often lagged behind, and by the time he jerked out of his daydreaming, the girl had already disappeared around a corner or up a flight of incredibly long stairs. Christian kept track of how many times he'd gotten lost, and if he was correct, there'd been nine such instances. He felt terrible for making his petite instructor backtrack to find him, but she didn't seem to mind. She neither reprimanded nor paid his blunderings any attention and continued talking as though nothing had ever interrupted her.

By the end of the "tour", Christian was apologizing profusely for not being more attentive and blushing profusely to boot. Seeing his reaction, she'd started blushing as well.

"Oh, um, it - it's fine, Christian. And um, this is where you'll be sleeping..."

She shifted nervously where she stood, avoiding Christian's gaze as he avoided hers. She'd been perfectly fine for the past two hours; Christian hoped he hadn't said anything inappropriate. Just as he worked up the courage to apologize again, she curtsied clumsily and ran away with a hurried, "I hope you enjoy your stay!"

Christian stared after her, confused, but his high spirits soon returned. Despite this little bump in the road, he was convinced the rest of his day would go just as well as his talk with the Duke had. Not even inspecting his room, which was expectedly paltry, Christian set off with one task in mind - to help the Reginien staff. After all, he had nothing else to do; his brother was most likely busy with the Princess, and he'd have to wait 'til nightfall to talk to him.

It was a good idea, and he had good intentions, but...when it came down to it...he was still just a pampered prince. After much insisting on Christian's part, one attendant finally but reluctantly gave Christian the chore of mopping up a hall. Christian immediately set about accomplishing his assignment, but halfway done, he accidentally spilled the basin of dirty water. He then tried to feed the royal hunting dogs only to end up sustaining a rather nasty bite on his shin. After a couple more failed endeavors, the exasperated attendant sent him on the simplest of domestic duties - retrieving towels for the nobles' baths.

...Christian lost his way.

An hour later, Christian returned to the servants' quarter empty-handed. The attendant, with a vein pulsing on the side of his head, kindly advised Christian to take a few minutes respite, and Christian, tired himself, agreed.

Rather than trekking back to his room, Christian sat down on a stone bench in a somewhat isolated part of the servants' quarters. He wanted to be available in case someone needed his services, and plus, his dog bite was starting to sting. With a sigh, he leaned back against the cool castle walls and closed his eyes for a few moments. The day hadn't really gone as he expected, but life was unexpected. His brother told him to always be prepared. (Christian rarely was.)

Well, he figured, at least he'd made some new friends. The attendant seemed nice enough; he hadn't yelled or scolded Christian at all. He simply pursed his lips, nodded, and sent Christian on his way.

As he thought, he didn't notice someone else sliding onto the bench beside him until she spoke (rather closely to his ear too, he might have added). Christian flinched at the sudden voice and, upon seeing it was a young woman of his own age, instantly blushed.

"O-oh! Excuse me, I-I-I'm sorry," he murmured, looking down at his hands.

The girl, a chambermaid, laughed off his response and scooted closer. Christian, out of politeness's sake, kept still. She seemed benign enough, asking for his name and commenting that she hadn't seem him around. Christian responded that he was from Silus, and the fact that he was foreign seemed to excite the girl. She talked about how she hadn't met someone from Silus since the start of the war and about her life at the castle. At first, her close proximity didn't alarm him; it just made him uncomfortable. As they talked, however, Christian noticed with sudden dread that she'd been gradually moving closer. In fact, she was so close that she was practically sitting on Christian's lap. If he stood up, he would've given the girl a rude jolt.

Christian tried to control his breathing. It - it probably wasn't intentional. She didn't seem to have taken much notice of it. Christian's mind worked so feverishly to come up with a suitable excuse for her behavior that he almost didn't mark her next words.

"...Have you ever been with a woman, Christian?" She eyed Christian with a sly smile, placing a hand against his chest as she leaned in.

Christian froze. His mind blanked. "Um...umm....ummmm...." he sputtered, trying to scoot away. To his horror, he discovered he was already at the far end of the bench. All of the blood in his body must have been concentrated in his cheeks at that moment.

The girl's fingers danced across his chest as she laughed sultrily. "You are so very cute..."

Her other hand, which had been placed innocently at her side, suddenly slid to Christian's thigh and squeezed. Christian nearly yelped.

'What to do, what to do, what to do,' he panicked. He knew if he stood up, he'd run away, and that was simply too inconsiderate.

"Your body is sooo tense, dear...that's something I can help with..."

...well, maybe it wasn't that inconsiderate...

"Um...um um um um um um, canyoupleasemoveoveralittleplease?" he squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Oh," she mused, "like...this?"

She roughly pulled Christian's head down, intent on a...oh, dear god. Christian craned his neck in the opposite direction, but in their current positions, his movement was limited. Her face neared his as her hand traveled up his leg to more sensitive regions, and Christian could literally hear his heart in his ears.

Someone...help!

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[dede]

It was Prince Rian’s turn to spend the day fawning over Princess Adalia, leaving Berlus to his own devices, which might have consisted of reading, playing any number of games steeped in strategy, or perhaps a peaceful contemplation of the Reginien gardens (renowned for their extravagant carnation displays, or so he had heard). But today, he had rose from the wrong side of his silken bed sheets. The pillows had been dreamily soft with multitudes of high-grade geese feathers, the breakfast a gallant and scrumptious affair as usual, the servants, maids, pageboys and staff hands galore all exceptionally polite and courteous, yet he was still thoroughly frustrated, all the while his right knee bouncing underneath the white tablecloth with the tell-tale signs of jittery agitation. Of course, not one to make a bad impression as a guest, royalty or not, Berlus smiled when appropriate and addressed everybody with his customary cheeriness- no one was to blame for his mood, and he contributed it simply to the current state of his affairs. For all the finery Princess Adalia and her gracious family had to offer, Berlus would rather have been at home sipping tea with his favorite pup stretched fondly across his lap.

Exceedingly unenthused by the thought his normal array of static hobbies, perfectly cultured to waste hours and hours of time away, Berlus instead took to brisk walk throughout the castle, stretching his long legs with pleasant ease. Pausing every so often to hold a lively chat with a nobleman or another member of the Reginien display of royalty, he climbed and descended endless stairwells, passing crystal windows, aged portraits, and velvet curtains alike. With the occasional help from a young chambermaid pushing a decadent tray to the smaller dining hall, or an aged guard leaning against a spiraling column, Berlus kept his bearings with ease, twisting around corners without the slightest hesitation.

According to the fair-haired cellar attendant that swept past him into the adjacent corridor only moments ago, Berlus was nearing the servants’ quarters, when a rather boisterous conversation drew his attention. When he quickened his pace for an investigation, he discovered a rather imposing man, waving his arms in a rather exasperated manner to a pair of similarly dressed underlings, fit snugly into Reginien servant garb. Slowing his eager feet, which were beginning to smart in his leather boots, he caught their continuing conversation with moderate interest. The man, whom Berlus took to be the attendant or manager of the servants’ quarters, was relating with both misery and slight humor the failed attempts of one particular member of the Silian entourage to lend a hand. Well natured as the boy was, he appeared to have little training at- - Berlus approached with interest, but the remarks were quickly withdrawn in the presence of the Helios prince, and they bowed, sputtering words of forgiveness and offerings of refreshment. They had not been expecting more visitors.

Back at home, his meek and unimposing nature, despite his overbearing height, left him in good terms with most of his staff and servants; nearly to the point of relaxed comradery. It was his father that kept them in sharp, working order. So, rather than chastising their surprise, Berlus shook his head, waving his hand in a practiced gesture of forgiveness and inquired to know more about this incident. Nodding, the attendant related the quest of the young, Silian esquire, lamenting the extra work it was taking to clean up the accidents, and on top of it, half of the kennels were still howling with hunger.

Berlus perked slightly at the mention of the royal dogs, and offered his own services in response. The attendant eyed the gangly prince uncertainly, but eventually, and reluctantly, relented after Berlus detailed his own canine expertise with his hunting hounds back at home.

Laden with ground beef and chicken stock, Berlus was directed to the kennels, filled to the brim with yapping and impatient dogs. He examined the lot fondly; well-muscled, exquisitely groomed, obviously vocal, and with excellent noses, he noted as they crammed eagerly against the sturdy bars overlapping their compartments. They were predictably unaccustomed to his smell, and quickly withdrew as Berlus approached, snapping and growling heatedly. In response, Berlus straitened, took his eyes from the pooches, and calmly elbowing his was past each gate, ignoring the snuffling and guttural threats as he dropped the foul mixtures into each bowl. Respect and strict avoidance- the keys to winning over any wary mutt. Of course, carrying armfuls of food and a lifetime of experience could not hurt ones chances either.

He came back without so much as a scratch, though his hands were stained pink, reeking of raw meat and dog. By the recommendation of an accompanying servant, he had thankfully left his coat in one of the storage closets, though the rolled up sleeves of his parchment-colored blouse were dirtied brown. Meeting the attendant back inside, the man clapped him heartily on the back, praising the Prince with a laugh that he had not gotten himself eaten as well. Grinning toothily, Berlus wandered away with directions to the nearest pump. Holding his hands out in front of him, fingers crusted with dried blood and slightly curled, Berlus walked deeper into the quarters, suspecting himself of a wrong turn, when he stumbled upon a quiet hallway, deserted except for a bench and its two, rather busy occupants. From his perspective, the giggling young woman, a chambermaid by the looks of her outfit, was having her fun with the poor sap nearly falling off the edge of the bench, if not for the girl’s wandering hands.

Berlus blushed, and did his best to ignore the pair as he inched along the wall, not willing to disturb their activities least it looked bad on his part. However, as he drew closer, he could not help another curious glance at the struggling man, whose desperate movements could have been compared to that of a man drowning, and nearly tripped over his own feet. “Prince Rian?” ... Then where was Princess Adalia!?

Or, the man was his unfortunate doppelganger. Nonetheless, Rian’s desperation was clearly apparent, and Berlus could hardly pass this opportunity to help one in clear distress… though it was the man who needed liberation from the girl’s pressing advances.

He coughed rather meaningfully, tying both of his scuffed hands behind his back as he approached the yearning chambermaid from behind. “Excuse me, miss!”

ooc; all that writing for two sentences of speech. YEEEAH.

[Mimi]

The girl didn't notice the Helion Prince's slow approach until he'd come up directly behind her and truthfully, neither did Christian. He'd resigned himself to his fate. He was simply too nice (and too scared) to leave, and what was that saying about nice guys? That they finish last?

Christian kept still, eyes wide, waiting for the kiss - he shuddered to think about it - of death. He finally understood why some of the Silian men were so disgruntled around their wives at court - they'd been tortured. The poor chaps. Women were a lot worse than Rian had made them out to be. His brother's endurance and audacity in the face of such atrocities never ceased to amaze him.

“Excuse me, miss!”

Christian nearly bolted out of his seat, eager for any excuse at all to put some distance between himself and said girl whose name he'd forgotten. Relief washed over his face, and a weak and faltering smile broke through the blush. Thank God! It seemed there was one, and he was merciful, contrary to what his brother believed.

"O-oh!" the girl cried in surprise, a deep scarlet coloring her face. "P-p-p-prince B-B-B-Berlus!"

She'd still been sitting on the bench, looking about alarmed and dismayed at Christian's sudden movement, when her eye caught sight of Berlus, and she jumped up. In her haste, she nearly tripped over her feet, but servants weren't raised to be klutzes. Quickly regaining her balance, the chambermaid folded her hands demurely in front of her and bowed her head in an attempt at innocence and respect.

"Your Highness! Forgive us - we believed we were alone..."

'Us?' Christian blinked confusedly at the sudden transformation. Where was the unrelenting vixen he'd tried to fight off just a few moments ago? Who was this seemingly harmless miss in her place? And when did it become "us" and "we"? Hadn't it been "her" assailing "him"?

Christian bit back his questions and instead focused on steadying his breathing. In...out...in...out...Prince...out...in...

Christian nearly choked, only just processing the maid's words. P-P-P-P-Prince B-B-Berlus! The Helion Prince! Catching him in such close quarters with a - ! Embarrassment beat relief into a hasty retreat, and Christian's face reddened up again faster than he thought was possible.

As if just remembering his manners, he quickly but awkwardly bent down in a low bow to the prince. The lower he bowed, the harder to see his face, right? And at that moment, Christian wanted to crawl under a rock and die. How embarrassing! How terribly embarrassing! His first impression - ruined! His father and brother would have been disappointed; he'd always been told that first impressions were the most lasting ones, and what kind had he just fabricated for himself?

Christian compulsively wiped his sweaty palms against his work trousers. Up and down, up and down, as if he'd find some comfort in the rhythm and consistency. Should he speak? What could he say? ...He'd just remain silent; it was for the best. But - but etiquette obliged him to speak. So...so - ! Christian felt like ruffling his hair in frustration which he oft did as a temperamental child...oh, hell.

"P-P-P-P-P-Prince B-B-B-B-B-Berlus, w-w-w-w-w-we m-m-m-m-meant n-n-n-n-n-no d-d-d-d-disrespect; I-I-I-I t-t-t-t-take f-f-f-full re-responsibility. I-I-I-If y-y-y-you f-f-f-f-feel t-t-t-t-the n-n-n-n-need f-f-f-f-for d-d-d-disciplinary a-a-action, t-t-then pl-please p-p-p-punish m-m-m-me a-a-a-alone."

Christian's finger curled into loose fists at his side, and he suppressed a discouraged sigh. He'd taken the blame many times before (mostly for his brother during his rebellious stage), but if it was for his brother, he didn't mind. He wasn't sure if he was as ecstatic to take the fall, so to speak, for a woman, but...if it was the gentlemanly thing to do...and he'd heard it was...then...

He kept his head bowed and gaze focused on the dark outline of his boots against the carpeted floor. He didn't dare look up out sheer humiliation and for fear of compromising his identity. The last he'd seen Berlus was at a summer soirée when he was seven or eight, and even though he remembered Berlus, he hoped Berlus didn't remember him. Most likely not; he and Rian looked even more alike when they were young. His eyes were much lighter in color and matched Rian's almost perfectly. There was almost no way to tell them apart unless they told you themselves and told the truth.

Berlus seemed a carefree boy then; they all were. Playing in the gardens, catching frogs, making a general mess of things and being perfectly fine with that. Of course, by that time, they had already started maturing, but Christian liked to pick and choose his memories. It all seemed so long ago...long enough to have Berlus's hair gray? So it appeared.

Christian chewed contemplatively on his bottom lip. He hoped Berlus hadn't changed when it seemed everything (and everyone) else had.

outofchocolate: lol! no worries, dede, i do the same thing alllll the time xD

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[dede]

Well, now, this was a grievous situation. Regardless of the company present- rank, stature, or whatnot- catching two members of opposing political and royal affiliation was a lucrative affair. A delicious ensemble prepped for blackmail, brown-nosing, backstabbing, and all nefarious maneuvers alike presented itself to Prince Berlus. Even without condemning physical evidence, simply spreading the rumor of illicit activities between the two differing parties was enough to cause notable and opportunistic unrest. It was perfect material to use in an effort to gain considerable favor with the Reginien kingdom. Current social issues aside, what loving and reasonable set of parents would ever marry their beloved daughter off to the raunchy and unctuous kingdom of Silus, considering the kind of lusting filth the Prince dared to bring in his entourage? Surely, it would reflect on the nature of Prince Rian himself?

But it was not Prince Rian. The uncontrolled stutter in the young man’s voice was all too revealing in itself. A memory sparked a dusty revelation; Prince Rian has a twin brother. With a small amount of effort, he conjured images of the pair, though Rian had always been in the foreground. Rian and… Christian? Yes, that was right. Rian and Christian. Rian and Christian, never in the reverse order. One, before the other, respectively. Although, Berlus had to admit, he always preferred Christian’s temperament in comparison to that of Rian’s dogmatic and righteous vehemence.

Once cycled through the process of renewed familiarity, his blue eyes widened, then narrowed in contemplation. Indeed, this was Prince Christian. But what was he doing here, ensnared by a devious castlehand? He had not been formally announced. He was not courting Princess Adalia then.

And still, Berlus could not unravel this peculiar riddle. Why was Prince Christian here at all?

Pushing fraternal mysteries out of reasoning for the moment , If Berlus had been a… considerably different man that what he was; if he had not reluctantly grown from his controlled childhood to his demure state as an adult, then Berlus would have surely acted upon each and every one of the properly advantageous thoughts that cropped seamlessly from the seed that the unfortunate Christian and the pressing maid had sown.

Instead of all that presented itself to him, Berlus simply looked at poor Christian examining his boots with a near religious fervor in his undying embarrassment, and shook his silver head. Though it took a magnificent amount of self-control not let the raucous laughter brewing inside alter his concerned expression.

“Please. “ He raised a refusing hand, holding the other neatly behind his back in a loose fist, excruciatingly careful not to let it touch his shirt, lest he stain it with the drying meal of beef and chicken stock.

“As a guest in the Reginien Kingdom, I have no power to judge or take action against any transgressions I may happen across. However,”

He scrutinized the apologetic maid with an added tinge of severity. “I cannot guarantee that the next person who catches you “alone” with any other will take this matter so lightly.”

Adding a polite bow, he continued firmly, though not without gentility.“With all due respect, Miss, I humbly suggest that you return to your duties.”

[Mimi]

The maid had become the model of civility and virtue in the Prince's presence; a humble shyness had enveloped her, and as Christian offered to take responsibility, she remained still with her lips set in a tight and unwavering line. At his persistent stuttering, however, she tilted her head to the side quizzically in a fruitless attempt to view the man's face. A slight frown creased her forehead. Christian, she decided, was either ignoring her or hadn't noticed, and either way, she didn't like it. One method or another, she would break this servant boy. Why? Because it was her specialty, and she hadn't met a man yet that she couldn't break. And besides, this one was much too adorable to leave alone.

"Please."

Christian refrained from looking up and the maid, following suit, kept her head bowed.

“As a guest in the Reginien Kingdom, I have no power to judge or take action against any transgressions I may happen across. However,”

While the maid tried to keep from fidgeting under the Prince's scrutinizing gaze, Christian looked up, a bit stunned, with the shock more than apparent in the slight, hesitant raise of his brow and the quickly receding blush. He had to admit, he'd been half-expecting the Helion Prince to take this bit of information to his brother or maybe even use it as material for blackmail. Though Christian had never completely understood the "blackmail" concept, he did understand that such situations as the one he and the maid had been in were perfect for spawning rumors and ruining lives. As...uncomfortable as he had been, he certainly didn't want the maid's reputation to be ruined - how dreadful. Thus, at the prospect of mercy, his face instantly brightened even before Berlus had finished his sentence. This mercy - it was not only proof of the man's honor but of his consistency as well. Poor Christian still believed that all men were boys at heart, and boys never want to cause harm, only to have fun.

“I cannot guarantee that the next person who catches you 'alone' with any other will take this matter so lightly. With all due respect, Miss, I humbly suggest that you return to your duties.”

The maid curtsied in return and murmured quietly, "Yes, Your Highness," but as she swept past Christian, he could have sworn he saw her wink and whisper, just barely audible, in his ear, "Tonight, then."

Not only the words, but the gesture sent chills up his spine. 'Tonight, then"? What could that mean? Christian watched her go, more confused now than anything - frightened too, but he tried to let only the confusion show. If...if by tonight, she meant...Christian visibly winced. He would rather not think about that now and instead, turned all of his attention back on the Prince. With a nervous laugh, Christian straightened his posture and ruffled his hair slightly with his left hand.

Soon, without meaning to, raucous laughter filled the hallway, all emitted from one nervous and jittery prince who had just realized he was in way over his head.

Waving his hand dismissively and apologetically, Christian leaned, weary and the slightest bit stressed, against the cool stone wall but a pace or two away from the bench he'd initially been ensconced on. "My apologies, Your Highness," followed by a quick bow, then, "But I've always been one to laugh at myself. I've learned that if I do not, then it feels all the more worse when others do."

Christian smiled sincerely at Berlus. He'd honestly appreciated the Prince's assistance in that awkward situation, and even though he knew he probably shouldn't dwell on it (besides, Berlus was most likely thinking he had been the one harassing the girl and not the other way around), he felt the urge to voice his appreciation. Face suddenly serious, he said, "Thank you, Your Highness, for the aid."

His lips quirked up again into another faint smile which gradually faded away as another question came to mind. It didn't seem as though he had, but...did Prince Berlus know who he was? Christian couldn't shake the feeling of recognition on Berlus's part, and if Berlus did recognize him...well, he would have been as relieved as he would dismayed.

"Ah, do you -" he started, then stopped, chewing on his bottom lip contemplatively before starting again. "Ah, do you recognize me, Your Highness?"

He couldn't have been more straightforward than that, and despite this whole charade that he'd put on, Christian valued the simplicity of an open statement. Nothing to interpret, nothing to twist, just a person and his words as they were. It was one of the best things in the world, in his opinion.

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[dede]

Berlus followed hasty exit of the maid with critical subjugation before swiveling his gaze to address the victimized prince. He seemed incredibly uncomfortable, shifting his weight and fidgeting with his hair; Berlus could not blame him. The fashion in which poor Prince Christian had seemingly reacted to the reckless maid beckoned only sympathy, not ridicule from the graying Prince, who felt as if he, perhaps, could partially relate to throes of panic he had just witnessed. Affected by some amicable obligation that he recognized from resurrected memories, judged by their value in years, he opened his mouth to relate his understanding, when Christian dissolved into unabashed mirth in front of him.

His initial reaction was wary confusion, though weighed heavily with concern for the immediate mental health of the bedraggled Prince, especially after such an affecting and, apparently, traumatic event. But rather than doubt his stability, Berlus quickly supplied himself with the reasoning that Christian lacked accurate words or analysis of what had just happened, which was perfectly understandable.

When Christian had finished, sagging with visible exhaustion against the wall space nearest the bench responsible for his near undoing, Berlus curtly nodded away the submissive gesticulation.

"My apologies, Your Highness," As he offered a customary bow, Berlus again inclined his head in supportive recognition."But I've always been one to laugh at myself. I've learned that if I do not, then it feels all the more worse when others do.”

Now, that was an interesting concept. Either, that reflected on admirable humility or crippling insecurity. Eager to believe the former, Berlus was impressed nonetheless. Acknoledging personal mistakes, even with the exasperated levity Christian had displayed, was a bold acceptance of the flaws of humanity. Though, Berlus was extremely hesitant to label the entire affair a “mistake”, and rather, just an unfortunate accident… Examining the situation, and the supplied explanation for his outburst, in light of misfortune, Berlus found that he was intrigued once again, but more so with gentle sorrow. Christian may have been enlightened, or he was simply quite used to ridicule. In his contemplation, a small, thoughtful frown troubled his lips.

He blinked uncertainly as Christian exchanged his unexpected joviality for a grave air, which drew Berlus away from his private considerations."Thank you, Your Highness, for the aid."As the Silian Prince withdrew meekly into his next inquiry, in comparison, Berlus stared with blank expectancy.

"Ah, do you recognize me, Your Highness?"

Beaming, all traces of doubt smoothed from his expression, Berlus responded with an enthusiasm that he had not altogether predicted. Though, the inexplicable happiness that naturally stemmed from reuniting with an old friend in a separate setting, away from the physical embodiments of social upstanding, regardless of the present outcome or whatever dire implications or circumstances lingered, and so on and so forth, was a difficult reaction to contain.

“Of course!” The Helion Prince bowed by habit of custom, but there was no strain or repetitive reluctance in the action. “And may I be the first to comment that it has been far too long, Prince Christian, since our last meeting.”

Untangling his joined hands from behind his back, Berlus raised one in a gesture of informal goodwill and friendship (or what he hoped remained of it) to Christian, but hesitated when he caught sight and smell of his hands once again. He had forgotten about his search for a working pump and a bar of soap. If it had not been for his own incompetence at following directions through the labyrinth of halls, he never would have stumbled upon the Prince Christian and his predicament.

Cringing at the relentlessly offensive odor of turning meat for the Reginien hunting dogs that rose from his stained fingers, Berlus smiled apologetically, turning his palm upwards to reveal the unsightly tinge of dried blood. “I am- I am sorry. I would shake your hand, but…“

[Mimi]

Prince Berlus must have thought it strange - it showed on his face - but so apprehensive was Christian that he hardly noticed. His right leg - with the imprint of canines molded painfully into the shin - had the slightest bit of a tremor. He balanced it against the wall in a subconscious effort to still it which, unfortunately, only seemed to make it worse. Christian was, to put it plainly, still suffering the after effects of shock, both at the maid's...actions and at how quickly a day that had started so amiably could go amiss. Perhaps they were right; perhaps Christian should have listened and remained at home. Everything so far surely seemed to attest to that, and Prince Berlus's happy "of course!" only added insult to injury (though he could hardly blame the Helion prince for his present predicament). Christian's form visibly deflated at the his answering in the affirmative much to the contradiction of the tremulous and faintly euphoric smile that flickered across his lips like the ghost of happiness rather than happiness itself.

An intermingling sense of dismay and relief at being so easily plucked out for who he really was kept Christian from reacting in the same merry fashion.

"In-Indeed!" he managed to answer, for it really had been an almost incomprehensibly long time since their last meeting though Christian would have rather liked to meet again under different circumstances.

If Berlus had recognized him so readily, he couldn't help but wonder if Adalia had as well. She hadn't seemed any the wiser, but then again, how much could anyone really trust appearances? Perhaps she had known but decided not to say. The completely unnecessary fuss and commotion that would undoubtedly result put his mind at unease. Perhaps it was already common knowledge amongst the Regienien peerage that the seldom known Prince Christian had traveled afar dressed as a commoner. Perhaps, and what if - what if - ?

Christian irritably shook free of such thoughts and ran his hand through his hair in that fashion so commonly attributed to his better known brother. He glanced at the extended hand aloofly as though his mind were far away, which it was. Worries crowded in on him. He'd hate to divert attention away from Rian, for then his entire purpose would be defeated, and he couldn't have that.

Jerking rather suddenly off the wall, he blurted a bit imploringly, "I do ask that you keep this discovery to yourself, Prince Berlus. I would hate to impose upon affairs here and more over, be of any disservice to my brother. In - in all reality, I should not be here, and - and as such, I really see no reason for any acknowledgement whatsoever that I - I am..."

He trailed off, suddenly acutely aware of his unseemly little outburst and glanced sheepishly to Berlus's side. He sighed. His brother must have thought him such a nuisance!

Rubbing the back of his neck, Christian took a step forward only to degenerate into a stinted limp as the (inflamed?) bite sent shocks of instability into his lower leg and knee. He glanced down curiously as though only just discovering the small injury before returning his attention to the Helion prince with a nervous and insecure chuckle.

"Oh, ah...no, it is not a problem; I would be honored to shake your hand regardless."

With the corner of his lip pulled up in a half-smile, Christian clasped the man's hand in an oddly firm and confident grip for someone who acted and spoke so hesitantly. He was...glad, in a sense, to have Berlus recognize him. Since they were little, he'd developed a favorable view and liking towards the Prince in spite of his father and brother's opinions. In truth, Christian fancied they'd been good friends, or rather, would have been good friends had the war not unexpectedly dissolved any and all hopes for affable relations with any country - neutral or belligerent.

"I have to admit," Christian explained as he loosened his hold and drew his hand back slowly to his side, "I did not think you would remember me, Prince Berlus. After all, our encounters had been so limited and fleeting; I was sure you had forgotten. In sooth, I was depending on it!"

He laughed again quietly and with that same nervous undertone as his mind strove to ignore the fact that Prince Berlus had not only found him in such...close confines with a maid but also knew who he was. The two made a potentially deadly combination; the consequences would have been much less damning were he really nothing more than the Silian Esquire of the Household, but as things stood, there was more than enough here to spawn many a nasty rumor, even he knew this. Even so, for some unfathomable reason, he was much less worried than he should have been. Perhaps it was for the same reason that he trusted Adalia's apparent obliviousness over his identity.

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