lost caution~ [Rian and Christian]

[Di]

A plague of insomnia had spread through the castle it seemed, for the span of the week affected the entirety of the residence within the Reginian castle; especially the youthful royals. It was to be expected, of course. It was only a few days in the week, and yet it was almost halfway through the seven days at the same time. Such a profound discovery would be maddening at the mere acknowledgement.

So, naturally, Princess Adalia tossed and turned in her bed as the anxiety struck all notions of sleep from her body. The moon outside her balcony windows merely winked its hazy glow, contributing to the restlessness. Adalia groaned lightly as she heaved herself up into a sitting position. Her braid had been set free while she had been trying to get comfortable in vain, her hair now in smooth, damp waves. Her fingers rubbed half-heartedly at her eyelids, before sliding her fingers through her hair once as she slouched in defeat. Her fingers settled on her sheet-covered knee, drumming a tattoo that spoke of her unease.

What was she to do? There were two ravenous beasts were tearing at each other inside her. Her mind acted as a frantic mouse that fretted about her maze of thoughts with panic and determination, while her stomach coiled like a snake, tensed to pounce and quell the mind of its worrying. Adalia tried to ease the energy that the night had cursed her with, but it was of little use. “Well, that settles it then,” Adalia muttered to herself, untangling her legs from her sheets and swinging them off the mattress. After a blind search for her slippers, Adalia shoved herself off of her bed and scurried quietly out of her quarters, noiselessly shutting the door behind her.

Now, Adalia was, generally she supposed, a level-headed and intelligent girl. In certain company, at least. She had known not to speak unless spoken to, to think quickly for her country, and to remain courteous towards all people. It was how she was raised. But there was a time where she was too young to regard such limits, guidelines, expectations. And it might explain why, as she aimlessly searched for a purposeful way to rid of her energy, her feet guided her to the castle gardens.

Adalia liked the gardens. They coiled around a marble arch in the back of the castle, before branching out in a sort of maze, bearing beautiful foliage, shrubs and the like that were always in full bloom, regardless of the seasons. One had to be careful not to get lost, but it had been always helpful when Adalia was young. It was there that she could be found, if one was lucky enough to know their way around, to escape from her divine prison.

She flicked through her memories, back when she had, because of Odette, been more rebellious at that age. She had been younger obviously, inexperienced, and even though she had always been more responsible than Odette, her maturity had certainly come with age. Adalia's impish grin appeared on her face, a mischievous smile she hadn't worn in a long time, way back when she didn't have to be the voice of reason amongst a country. Giggling, she sped off down the stone steps past the arch and followed them out into the wild flora, hurtling through the shrubs and flower hedges so fast that everything became a pastel-green-black blur. As she pelted along, Adalia felt younger. All of the responsibilities she had shouldered, the careful maturity and level headedness that was her trademark, had been shed—(even if only for a minute)—to reveal the daredevil Adalia underneath that she had learned to reign in long ago so she could protect her country.

She was throwing all caution to the winds, and then trying to outrun it.

The landscape gradually thinned out when she took a sharp right, and a flat field of grass materialized as if from nowhere. The greenery became unexpectedly bare, and if one hadn't been careful, they could have ended up stepping right into a statue for past Reginian royalty surrounded by a circular hedge. Adalia dug her heels in, and fumbled about until she came to a stop. She was bursting with excitement, feeling light-headed. Her left side felt as if it was on fire, but she didn’t care. Adalia keeled over until she had fallen on her back into the soft grass, unrestrained giggling bubbling from her lips between gasps of air; her lungs as heavy as lead. But Adalia felt happy, blissful, even. Her eyes that had been clenched closed at a time unbeknownst her peeled open. She blinked, adjusting her vision to find a blanket of stars twinkling down at her.

And, in that moment, one could find Adalia that lost twinkle in her eye that had been locked away years ago as she gazed on.

( ooc ) Btw, here's a reference for the garden. Just imagine more flowers and taller hedges, lol:
www.scotland.visitandtravel.com/pictures/drummond-castle-gardens-scotland-05b.JPG

[Mimi]

Christian shuffled along after Rian, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and trying his hardest not to trip over his own feet. It was too early, much too early, and he would have complained vocally had he the energy. He knew what time it was; well, not literally perhaps as in the minutes and hours, but he knew all the same. His brother had woken him up just in that rare period between dawn and, what they used to call as children, "the witching hour". That time when the stars dappled the sky like the minuscule pricks in a pin cushion and when the sky, as if confused of its own shade, tries to change from black to blue. It was also the time when people found the deepest and most gratifying kind of sleep, a kind of sleep that, mind you, he was being deprived of.

Stretching his arms behind his head, Christian yawned loudly and glanced around with bleary and tired eyes. The castle really took on a different life at night, didn't it? The shadows looked sinister; the footsteps seemed to echo endlessly and come back different than they'd gone out; even the carpeting looked strange as if it were from another time, another century. Christian laughed nervously under his breath. As a child, he used to be deathly afraid of the night especially after hearing Rian's dreadful tales of hunchbacked witches and sly enchantresses. That had been years ago, nearly a decade, and he'd grown of course, but whenever walking in the night, he couldn't shake that quiver of apprehension that ran up and down his spine.

Shivering, but not because of the chill, Christian refocused his attention on Rian's back. Come to think of it, it was a bit ironic that Rian had sought him out and not the other way around. Everyone knew Christian loved his brother and clung to him almost wherever he went. Rian rarely went looking for him because he was usually already there, and he secretly knew that even if he wasn't, Rian probably wouldn't seek him out. That was simply his brother's nature, and yet that morning (or night, however one wanted to look at it), Rian had snuck into the servants' quarters, shaken Christian out of his dreams - rather urgently too he might have added - and asked - no, demanded - that he take a stroll with him in the royal gardens. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed, and Christian's lips, previously set in a half-hearted line, dipped into a quizzical frown. His brother must have had something important to discuss with him else he never would have acted so out of character.

He sped up his tread as if to catch up to Rian and craned his neck to the left. The dim lighting of the hallway, composed of only slanted bars of moonlight, offered him little sight of Rian's face, but what he did see discouraged him. There were no wrinkles, Heavens no, and no lines or other signs of physical aging, but the black shade under his eyes and the look in them - a haunted look almost - scared him. It was the first time he'd ever been scared by his brother, and the very fact shook him to the core. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, no matter what Rian was going to say to dissuade him.

By the time they were finally out in the night, Christian was bursting with questions and worries and thus unprepared for the rude awakening. The biting night air hit him with full force, a thousand needles reawakening a numb body. It was refreshing but unnerving at the same time, and the stars, dear God, the stars! They were so numerous and expansive - a woven blanket of blinking lights - that Christian felt like he was falling into them, and even as he thought that, his right foot caught his left. He very nearly tumbled into Rian's backside.

The night was so clear. In Silus, one could only see the very brightest stars, for pollution had stolen the faint ones. The night sky was left bare and wanting. It amazed him how two countries, so close, could experience something so simple in such drastically different ways.

Rian, who'd remained absolutely silent, now glanced aloofly at Christian and, as he expected, saw his brother starry-eyed. He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. 'Too easily impressed,' he thought, 'and he hasn't even noticed the flowers yet.'

Rian pivoted on his foot, taking in the hedges bursting with flowers - blackthorn, hawthorn, privet - and all vying for attention. Scattered around, but in an organized manner, were lilies, sunflowers, orchids, carnations, and even blossoms he'd never seen before. It was certainly an impressive display...were it not lacking the one crucial element in any successful garden - roses. Cliché, perhaps, but vital nonetheless. The rose completed an ensemble; it declared it fit for presentation, and as far as Rian was concerned, without the rose, this garden was the same as a King without his crown.

Swiping the head of a budding, scarlet carnation from its stem, Rian paused, examining it, scrutinizing it, before crushing it and throwing the carcass to the ground. He hated flowers anyways. They agitated his throat, his lungs, his disease. He would have chosen another location, but this was the best Regina had to offer in terms of isolation and privacy (at least at this time of night).

Glancing back, Rian gestured for Christian impatiently. "Christian," he hissed, "Come, come. Stop this dilly-dallying."

Christian immediately snapped to attention and scurried forth, falling into step alongside Rian who'd slowed from almost a canter inside the castle to a leisurely saunter.

All of Christian's concerns returned to him at once, and he felt suffocated underneath the weight. Furrowing his brow, he opened his mouth and expected the words to spew forth...only to have emptiness. He didn't know what to say, where to begin.

"Brother -" he managed before Rian brusquely cut in.

"I told you," he murmured calmly, "not to refer to me as 'Brother' if you want for your little ruse to work."

He shot Christian a sharp glare as if to silence him, but Christian, to his surprise, stared defiantly back.

"Like you said yourself, it's too early for anyone to be wandering about the royal gardens, so why shout lies to an empty audience?"

Rian blinked before shrugging his shoulders. "It's your lie. Do what you will."

Biting down hard on his lower lip, Christian felt the words bubbling out of him before he even had time to think twice. "What are you hiding, Brother? You used to tell me everything. Now I'm lucky to even see you at breakfast or have you reveal your afternoon schedule."

He said it quietly in almost a whisper and avoided Rian's gaze as though he scarcely believed what he was saying. Had it really been only three years? It felt so much longer - decades longer - and the man who'd left, his brother, hadn't come back. Maybe he'd left even earlier than that, and Christian just hadn't noticed. Who knew, really, except Rian?

Christian looked down, expecting a sigh, a reprimand, maybe even a curse but least of all, a laugh. And that's what Rian did. He laughed at him.

"You? You're worried for me? I'm worried for you! Look at you! Are you a man? Or a boy?"

Christian opened his mouth, about to interrupt, but Rian wouldn't give him the chance.

"Are you my brother? I want a brother who I can say is my brother with pride, but here I have this lump of a man who can't even stare a woman in the eye without trembling in his boots. And you're worried about me."

Rian spat out the last sentence in disgust and broke pace, leaving Christian behind. Christian stared after his brother, a bit surprised by the outburst and a bit hurt but mostly disappointed. He didn't really know what or whom he was disappointed in though. Himself? Rian? What he said was true; he wouldn't dispute it, but...

He sighed, running his hand across the branches and leaves of the circular hedge that enclosed the center of the garden. Like a Frenchman once shrugged and told him, "C'est la vie."

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[Di]

Unbeknownst the bickering brothers, Adalia had settled comfortably in the grass as she had done many years past. The blades of grass caressed her neck, its dew sprouting goose pimples upon her arms and the back of neck; this didn’t seem to agitate her in the slightest. Rather, Adalia embraced the feeling of normally uncomfortable sensation, shifting further to imprint her form against the damp earth. Her arms bent limply at the elbows and settled beside her shoulders, fingers halfway curled inwards, and her legs draped over the green sheet of her makeshift bed. The fire inside her seemed to have died down in the presence of such tranquility, allowing the princess to inhale deeply without consequence. Although Regina was victim to the sweltering heat of the summer, the nights reigned cool and clear. Adalia scented the chilly night air and found a floral scent: a natural musk that soothed her senses and calmed the race of her heart.

Adalia shook herself out of her daze and turned her eyes to the night sky. Its beauty made her shiver. The blue-black silk stretched on for miles, and the stars that winked down at her splattered the midnight heavens divinely. She let out a rapturous breath at the sight. Half-heartedly, Adalia extended her right arm, her index finger reaching for the sky as she aimlessly connected the stars in patterns and shapes, a wistful smile hinting her lips. It seemed that the older she had gotten, the more valuable such a sight became to her. She might have continued to gaze out at the diamond-like pinions in the sky forever…

"… too early for anyone to be wandering about the royal gardens, so why shout lies to an empty audience?"

"It's your lie. Do what you will."

Adalia’s spine snapped rigidly to attention and stopped. Stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped thinking, and stopped her heartbeat, if only momentarily. By the time her brain had gained proper control over her body, the brunette drew her hand back to her chest as though stung by the air instead of soothed by it, her doe eyes wide with terror. Apparently she was no longer alone. Her shallow breaths simply couldn’t tame the thundering of her pulse; she could literally hear blood roaring in her ears. Not only because she could be caught by anyone. No, she could recognize the voices as Prince Rian and Christian. Of all people, she was the least to expect or want to see her in such a vulnerable and unladylike state. And if wanted to remain unseen, she had to think quickly, for the rustling of their footsteps acted as a knock of mortification against her internal door.

Adalia snapped up into a sitting position before withdrawing quickly from the exposing moonlight into the thick of the hedge, pressing her back against the thick leaves. She prayed to God that the darkness had impaired the gentlemen’s’ peripheral sight enough to maintain her guise in the shadows. Her arms were drawn closely to her chest, suddenly feeling exposed. I should’ve brought a cloak, she thought, chewing on the inside of her cheek in a vain attempt to calm her nerves. As soon as she was positive that she couldn’t be seen so easily, Adalia exhaled quietly, but shakily as she tried to clear her head. Yet questions became paramount over her safety as her curiosity was piqued. Why, in the middle of the night, were Prince Rian and his esquire conversing at such an ungodly hour? What “lie” are they hiding from an “empty audience?” And what secrets did Christian keep in confidence with Prince Rian?

She knew her intentions were innocent –she was merely curious– yet in her heart, she knew it wasn’t right to eavesdrop on a conversation that was not meant for her ears. It didn’t seem right to snoop into Christian’s personal life. Biting her lip as she mulled over her thoughts, Adalia reluctantly began to peel away from the shrub and into the darkness.

"What are you hiding, Brother? You used to tell me everything. Now I'm lucky to even see you at breakfast or have you reveal your afternoon schedule."

Adalia lost her footing and fell back against the hedge, both hands pressed over her mouth to stifle a gasp. Brother? Brother? Christian was Prince Rian’s brother? It had to be a mistake! It’s entirely absurd. Adalia vigorously shook her head, trying to gain some sense in this trivial, yet scandalous truth. Could this be possible? That they were related? Adalia thought back briefly on any encounter that could validate as proof. The fact that both Christian and Rian held a strong resemblance couldn’t be ignored. Not to mention how shocked Christian was to discover his navigational mistake in locating Prince Rian’s room. Christian almost always corrected himself when addressing Prince Rian as well.

The more she contemplated the more concrete the truth became. The more concrete the truth became, the more humiliated Adalia was. How could she have not seen this sooner? Wasn’t it her job, as royalty to see, to be perceptive? Why would Christian hide his identity from everyone? From her? The next question that weighed down her mind even further caused a twinge of sorrow in her heart, not only for thinking such, but for actually considering it: What else could he have lied to her about?

[Mimi]

Christian kept his distance, wondering whether he should approach Rian and risk his temper or continue dawdling and...well, risk his temper. Either way, Rian was most likely not going to be happy; Christian might as well take the initiative. After all, he was a prince...somewhat. His brother was right, but the stringent words still stung. It wasn't, however, as though he hadn't heard or thought them before. Living life as prince to a blood-bathed country of strongmen and warriors meant he had expectations to live up to; it meant he had to be a man fit and deserving to lord over all the rest. His brother had certainly lived up to standards, but did it really mean he had to as well?

He sighed and stopped for a moment as he leaned against the hedge. His back pressed into thorns and prickly branches, but he kept quiet and still as if afraid to interrupt the croaking toad in the distance or the chirruping grasshopper just a few feet away. Everything was so clear in the night; it pulsated with a life of its own. It was as if he could hear the beating wings of each fly or the midnight inquiries of each restless owl. Everything was open - a book waiting for his wandering eyes. But, if that was true, then why were his own thoughts in such a confusion?

Christian took a deep breath of the night air and then took a few more. He breathed it in - drank it in - this air that was the cool, refreshing water to his parched soul. He sighed.

"Brother, wait!"

He ran up a few steps and grabbed Rian by the sleeve of his jacket. Christian didn't exactly know what he was going to say, but he did know he wanted to be on good terms with his brother. After all, they were brothers.

Frowning still, Rian glanced over his shoulder and wrenched his arm out of Christian's reach with an indignant huff. He honestly couldn't understand Christian's affinity for physical touch; it irritated him to no end, but as he regained his bearings and noticed the pensive expression on his younger brother's face - the first of its kind - he grew the slightest bit...curious. Perhaps he'd finally gotten through to the dunce? He was wary of the notion, but...considering his current condition, could someone blame him for being hopeful?

Rian waited impatiently for Christian's next words. His brother wore his heart on his sleeve. Rian could tell he was upset, but it didn't bother him in the least. If his brother was to be King, he needed to be well acquainted with the downfalls of defeat, criticism...betrayal. If Christian were to take the throne right then and there, Rian feared the kingdom wouldn't last until the end of the week. Someone needed to open his eyes, and if Rian had to play the villain, well, then he'd play it and play it well. It wasn't as though Christian could hold a grudge and much less, a grudge against a dead man.

Rian folded his arms across his chest and gulped rather painfully. The pungent aroma filled his diseased lungs and made his chest ache badly which did not help his mood nor his patience.

"Well?" Rian asked, "What did you want to say?"

Christian shifted his weight restlessly, swaying slightly with the gentle breeze. "I'm sorry," he finally managed, "I'm sorry I'm not brave nor courageous. I'm sorry I'm not the brother you've always wanted. Maybe I'm not a prince, not really, but I'm proud to be the future King's brother even though you feel the contrary. I'm fine with that. I just want to hel --"

"Did you know," Rian cut in, "that when we were born, Father wanted to have you killed?"

Rian was sick of it. Sick of his brother's complacency. The last thing he wanted to hear right then was his brother accepting his many failures, and yet that was what he heard. What leader accepted his own incompetency? A fearsome one denies them; a good one corrects them. Only the weak accepts them and does nothing.

At that moment, Rian wanted to hurt his brother, to break his spirit and have him on his knees. Maybe only then would he find the strength to rebuild himself, and if he didn't...well, then Rian (and his country) didn't want him for brother nor king.

"Drowned, in fact. Mother saved you. But I see now why Father thinks it was a mistake."

Christian tilted his head to the side ever so slightly and stared at his brother's visage. His expression remained the same; he didn't seem at all affected, but what Rian couldn't readily see, Christian felt. His body stiffened, and the wind, which had previously comforted him, now chilled him to the bone. But, there was no anger, no surprise, no...nothing -- emptiness.

"W-Why are you telling me this?" Christian asked, lowering his eyes to the ground as his hands fell limp at his sides.

Rian scoffed at the reaction and took a step closer, almost threateningly. "You --"

He stopped. His eyes narrowed, and at that moment, he looked quite like the hunting dog who'd just caught scent of fresh prey. Christian chewed nervously on his bottom lip, unaware of his brother's preoccupation until he very roughly pulled back and pushed forcefully against Christian's chest.

Christian stumbled back just short of falling and stared wide-eyed at his brother. He gaped, shocked and confused, and tried to string together a question when Rian turned back on him and hissed angrily, "I told you someone would overhear."

With that, he motioned for Christian to circle around the hedge while he went the other way, and before Christian even nodded in agreement, Rian was gone. Christian stared after the space where his brother had been and smiled weakly. The games he and Rian used to play...

Christian sighed, locked away his sentimentality for another time, and did as his brother instructed. As he crept along, he gradually registered the consequences of what Rian had said. 'I told you someone would overhear.'

At the very notion, Christian's palms grew sweaty, and his stomach churned uneasily. Overhear? Did that mean Rian saw someone? If he did, who could it possibly be? A maid? A gardener? Would they gossip? A maid possibly would, but what of a gardener? A male gardener? Surely, he would understand his predicament?

Christian shook his head wearily. Ah, he should have listened to Rian. As per usual, his brother was correct. His brother was always correct. There really was no...reason to doubt him, was there?

As Christian neared the open terrace, he felt his breath quicken and his heart swell with something akin to excitement, something akin to fear. He hoped his brother found the intruder first; Christian didn't know what he'd do if he did. Unfortunately for Christian...

"P-P-P-Princess A-A-A-A-Adalia...!"

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[Di]

The royal garden's beautiful scenery and pristine, grandiose castle walls couldn't even afford a second of Adalia's attention anymore; questions were tangling into a web of contemplation. Adalia struggled to tear all the cobwebs out of her head. They were slowing her down and making it difficult to think. How was it that such a minimal revelation that she had accidentally discovered cause such a tilt in her mental axis? The mere exposure of Christian’s –or perhaps Prince Christian was more appropriate now– identity was groundbreaking as it stood, but of all people to catch such an allusive lie was the Princess.

But another problem plunged into the depths of her deliberation. As another Prince of Silus, Christian was more than capable of contending for her hand. The thought wasn’t only conjured by the hopeless romantic that resided in Adalia that still swooned at tales of lovers in ancient times from her childhood. Instead, it was also a simultaneous pleasant concept that took root in her mind before she could even stop it, and hope blossomed in her chest, like a flower underneath the sun.

“I just want to hel --"

"Did you know that when we were born, Father wanted to have you killed? Drowned, in fact. Mother saved you. But I see now why Father thinks it was a mistake."

Her reverie was broken, the tree about to flourish in her chest wilting from where it barely started to take root under the cold that swept over her heart. It was beyond inconceivable that this was the same Prince Rian she had dedicated her time to. How could he be so cruel to his brother? What exactly had Prince Christian done to him that caused his brother to lash out such malice? As hope was forgotten in her heart, indignation boiled in its stead. Adalia clenched her fists, blades of grass torn from their damp sanctuary into the vice of Adalia’s ire. There were more than a few things Adalia would like to ask the Silian Princes, and hopefully get some answers.

"I told you someone would overhear."

Unfortunately, it seemed her wish was to be granted prematurely.

Adalia’s boiling fury froze over into paranoia, feeling as though someone was shredding her insides. She stared at the ground below her without really seeing. She gazed at each individual blade of grass that was graced with a hue of silver from the moon’s light in search of her now predators’ shadows. She had been too preoccupied, caught up in curiosity, that now she was paying the toll for such insolence. Now there was no escape. Her world was being shredded and ravaged, bit by painful bit, almost as if parts of her composure were dying within her as time passed. Ticking, tocking, always moving relentlessly forward. Dreadfully forward.

Adalia was close to bursting with excitement; she was already starting to feel a little light-headed, but no, no, no, she couldn't afford that, she needed to run! Her skin prickled suddenly and she knew it was inevitable. The cold, wet shiver that passed over the back of her shoulders didn’t seem to kill the dread that was clawing at her entire being.

"P-P-P-Princess A-A-A-A-Adalia...!"

Prince Christian’s exclamation caused her to look up and lock gazes with those hazel eyes. Adalia flinched. She paled in something like fear, revealing herself reluctantly from the shadows to face him. Why. Oh. God. Why. Why did he have to find her at this exact moment, when she was trying to work up the nerve to settle down? Why?

She tried to not acknowledge the part of her that was delighted at his presence. A heady blush dusted her cheeks and a soft gasp escaped her lips.

A cold shudder jolted through Adalia's body, frozen where she sat. Her heart, on the contrary, sprinted to a beat almost inhuman—full throttle, as fast as it could. In the second it took for that shudder to move from Adalia's chest to her stomach, a whole hour had felt like it had passed over. Her mouth opened as though to attempt at communication, as she looked frantically around as if to assure herself that she was finally caught before pressing on.

“Christian…” Adalia managed to utter feebly as she slowly rose to feet, her voice eerily calm while her skin crawled. Immediately, Adalia realized her mistake and made it to correct herself. “O-or… shall I say Prince Christian,” she added with an apologetic smile, not daring to meet his gaze again as she turned to face Prince Rian stonily. “Prince Rian.” Unbeknownst to her, hot salt water began to bubble over and down her cheeks, betraying her calm tone with the shame and embarrassment and fear that wracked her body with inner turmoil. “I…” she began, clearing her throat, her façade dying precipitately as she searched their faces in hopes of mercy. “I sincerely apologize! I-I assure you I had no means to heed your conversation! I was only wa-walking through the gardens,” she pressed on eagerly, before discovering how ridiculous she must’ve sounded. How like a child. She felt disgusted with herself. “… couldn’t sleep,” she murmured before dipping into a deep curtsy, her head bowed low. “Please, please, I beg for your forgiveness.”

[Mimi]

Christian froze up. He didn't know what to do or what to think for that matter. Why was Princess Adalia out here in the middle of the night? It almost seemed as if...no, no, she couldn't have been out here for the sole purpose of listening to their banter...could she? The possibility that Adalia was not the nice and honest woman she seemed jolted Christian to the core for some odd reason. This wouldn't have been the first time he trusted someone only to be, as Rian so eloquently put it, "stabbed in the back". But, Christian didn't mind; he rarely paid any heed, and rather than harsh words or violence, his willingness to forgive was what usually brought the transgressors to their knees in guilt and humility. Not that he wanted to see them on their knees. Oh, no - they could not only bruise them but dirty their beautiful, fanciful breeches as well! No, Christian didn't want nor like seeing anyone on their knees or, for that matter, even bowing to him. He always felt awkward about it and never knew what to say; he wanted to return the action, but considering his status, such behavior was disallowed.

Even now, feeling dismayed and shocked, Christian couldn't stand seeing Adalia so embarrassed and distressed. Guilt blossomed under her gaze as they both remained suspended in silence. If only Rian had found her first! He would have been able to handle the situation much more gracefully. Glancing nervously around and shifting his weight, Christian resembled the trapped deer desperately searching for an opening away from its captors. Unable to stand the silence any longer, he opened his mouth to speak when Adalia cut him off.

“Christian…”

He watched her stand up on two unstable legs and at that moment, wanted nothing but to reassure and comfort her.

“O-or… shall I say Prince Christian,”

Christian winced at being addressed as such. So, she did overhear their conversation. A sudden and unexpected bout of relief coursed through his body before being replaced by a leaden despondency. It wasn't very surprising, he supposed, that the Princess discovered this so early. His proficiency at deceit was minimal at best...

“Prince Rian.”

Christian's head snapped up to look past Adalia at the figure standing silently in the shadow of the tall hedges. His eyes, however, burned clearly through the unwavering pitch blackness, and there was a certain coldness in them that made Christian speechless, even more so than before. Brother? Christian mouthed without actually saying the word.

Rian tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement to the Princess but kept to his reticence. His eyes bored down on the Princess, clearly expecting an explanation before he said anything. Christian, on the other hand, was more than willing to speak up to ease the pressure saddled on Adalia's shoulders only to be, again, interrupted.

“I…”

In the dark, Christian hadn't immediately noticed the tears, but by the time he did ("are those...tears? She is...crying? O-Oh!"), he felt terrible - lower than the dirt he walked on and worse than the most ruthless criminal. He never meant to make her cry! This was terrible! He wanted nothing more than to gather the girl in her harms and kiss away those tea - oh dear, had he just thought that? Blushing now, Christian refrained from saying anything, for he knew it would be laced with stuttering. Instead, he looked expectantly to his brother. Couldn't he say something? The girl seemed so conflicted and disturbed, but his brother wasn't even looking in his direction.

“I sincerely apologize! I-I assure you I had no means to heed your conversation! I was only wa-walking through the gardens,”

It took all of his effort to refrain from scoffing in the Princess's face right then and there which he knew would make the situation only worse and, God forbid, induce more of those unsightly tears. Rian tilted his head, softening his hard gaze as though her tears actually had some mellowing effect on him. Quite the contrary. Seeing the Princess cry only made Rian more disgusted with her. Not only had she been sneaking about at night, eavesdropping on others' conversations, but now she had the gall to sob when caught? There was a certain...finesse in her cunning, but at the same time, it made Rian want to crinkle his nose in distaste. Perhaps he'd misjudged this girl's outward integrity. "No means to heed your conversation." Ha! But he would pander to her act if only to catch her affections. This was, after all, a prime opportunity.

"… couldn’t sleep,”

Rian smiled sympathetically as she dipped into her low curtsy.

“Please, please, I beg for your forgiveness.”

"Forgiveness? Please, Princess! There is nothing to forgive! In all honestly, it is us who should be begging for your forgiveness! Such conversations should not be held in public! I mean, really, Christian..."

Rian shot Christian an "I-told-you-so" glare before refocusing his compassionate gaze on the Princess again. He went to her, placing a finger under her chin so as he could lift up and see her face, and brushed aside a few tears with the back of his thumb.

"Crying is such an unsightly thing, love...though I have to admit, you pull it off beautifully..."

Christian suddenly felt very awkward as if he were intruding on an intimate moment. The sudden change in his brother's demeanor...he hadn't thought it possible at first, but...but was it possible that...that his Brother had...fallen in love? His face lit up at the prospect though, in the deepest chamber of his inner thoughts, there was something like disappointment. However, his conscious mind remained blissfully unaware as his cheeks lit up in another bout of blushing.

"Uhhhhh," he clumsily murmured, scratching the back of his neck anxiously.

There was nothing else he could say; his brother had already said it all. As such, he remained where he was, standing a bit off to the side with a hesitant half-smile. ...Perhaps he should explain why he was here under a pseudonym? But...no, he wouldn't want to ruin his brother's moment; he would do it when asked.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[Di]

"Forgiveness? Please, Princess! There is nothing to forgive! In all honestly, it is us who should be begging for your forgiveness! Such conversations should not be held in public! I mean, really, Christian..."

There was a faint confusion as to why her chin was breaking the formation of her submissive pose. Her body was still stuck in her curtsy until she discovered the culprit of guiding her body to straighten. Adalia swallowed, a small timid smile plastered on her lips as she fumbled for an answer. She found herself needing to breathe deeply, silently thankful for the cool night air that passed easily through her lungs.

"Crying is such an unsightly thing, love...though I have to admit, you pull it off beautifully..."

“A-ah… thank you,”Adalia mumbled, her voice growing fainter as each word passed her lips. Unlike past encounters of Prince Rian’s advances where she would find herself flustered, instead she felt ill at least. Her stomach churned unpleasantly at his touch, as though something were wrong. However, for the life of her, Adalia could not figure out why. It was difficult to calculate how she should react to her uncomfortable situation at hand. So she did the only thing that she could think of, and gently tugged out of his grip awkwardly, her chin coming to kiss her shoulder as she glanced away, like a swan alluring a potential mate. She felt more of an ugly duckling, despite such frank compliments from Prince Rian.

Taking it upon herself to finish wiping away her own tears with the sleeve of her nightgown, Adalia cleared her throat, pressing on. “Thank you, Prince Rian, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to patronize me,” Adalia smiles bitterly, before upon hearing Christian’s interjection, glanced at him. Her blood boiled and her stomach made that quizzical explosion of butterflies yet again. However, it was different feeling in comparison to the Silus’ brother (brother, the word still felt too foreign to grasp). Now that Adalia thought on it, she could differentiate the sensations. Flashes of Prince Rian’s mistreatment of Prince Christian flickered in the back of her mind, and her forgotten fury was agitated into fear. The thought of cruelty Adalia’s suitor was capable of was rather unsettling. To think of the possibility that he was putting a façade terrified Adalia to the bone. That could forebode a frightening outcome for her in their union.

Fear would have to wait. Making amends were currently first on her priorities. Adalia shoved this fear to the side as she straightened her posture, looking at both Silus heirs. “Despite everything, I still feel wretched. Your conversation was not mine to hear,” Adalia protested, placing a hand over her heart; the Reginien motion of a pledge. “I understand if my trust was lost because of such. But I assure you both, that this secret will remain under the rose. You have my word.” Adalia honestly prayed that she would be forgiven. If rebuilding trust was how she had to certify camaraderie, then so be it.

((ooc))Short as all hell, but it's all I can muster. ;____: FORGIVE MEEEEEE.

[Mimi]

ooc; D: IS NOT. DUN MAKE ME FEEL BAD ABOUT MAH POST DI. OMIGOODNESS. crap post is crap. i'm sooo sorrryyy ;n; i'd rewrite but butbut BUTYEAH /sob

Rian's interest was piqued. Now, he never claimed (and never would claim, thankfully) to be experienced in the field of "women," but if he did say so himself, he did a fine job of acting, and one did not go through so many years in his expertise without picking up a thing or two on the "trade". Her reaction - it was off somehow; there was something - something...intangibly wrong about it, and his inability to put it into words - it agitated him all the more. Her demureness remained, and the way that she shyly touched her chin to her shoulder all seemed to speak in his favor. The obvious answer was that he had succeeded; she was reacting favorably to his advances (if not a bit queerly) and had taken to his romantic attempts. But he had not become commander of his father's armies and heir to the Silian throne (because, mark you, one did become the heir; one was not born into it) by relying solely on the supposed obvious.

And ah --

"Thank you, Prince Rian, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to patronize me."

Rian smiled wryly in response, shrugging ever so slightly as if to say "ah, well. I tried," but at the same time, the watery moonlight revealed a hard and calculating glint in his eyes, one that bespoke of a man not accustomed to defeat and certainly not to giving up easily. Just as surely as it had been there, though, it disappeared, replaced by a dim and brooding interest. His wry smile turned into an ironic smirk at his predicament as his eyes shifted with Adalia's to regard Christian.

Christian blinked, clueless, and Rian heaved an inward sigh.

"Despite everything, I still feel wretched. Your conversation was not mine to hear."

As her hand moved to her chest, presumably the area over the heart, Rian noted with amusement that the action seemed to denote a universal trust whereas in Silus, it was all but mocked. Most saw it as sentimental; in fact, it was a running gag amongst traveling shows, often ridiculed and rarely respected.

"I understand if my trust was lost because of such. But I assure you both, that this secret will remain under the rose. You have my word."

Pausing, Rian looked expectantly to Christian who looked as expectantly back. The younger of the two had taken to nervously twiddling his fingers and rocking gently on his heels, the tinge of a blush still coloring his face. O-Oh, d-dear. Seeing as Adalia had indeed overheard their conversation, then...? Christian frowned to think of the impression it must have given her! A-After all, Rian had raised his voice just slightly, and it was not so much the information that was revealed as how it was revealed that seemed to be worrying him most. Flashing Adalia a jittery but sympathetic smile, he slowly opened his mouth as if to speak when Rian caught his eye and silenced him once more.

First, a small sigh then, "Princess, a thousand par --"

Without warning, Rian broke off, turning sharply to the side and burying his mouth and nose into the crook of his elbow. Christian blinked, immediately alarmed, as his posture went rigid, and he took a half-step towards Rian.

"Brother- !"

Rian impatiently waved him off, stumbling a few paces to the side and off to the bushes as Christian mimicked his movements.

"Br-brother...?" he asked again, this time more hesitantly, more worried.

Rian remained inert, his free hand now clinging onto the few spindly branches and their thick leaves. He breathed deeply, and each breath sounded particularly scathing as the air struggled through his debilitated lungs and out of his sore throat and nose. Intervals of guttural spasms broke what was supposed to be the steady rise and fall of his chest, and before Christian could inquire further, Rian turned foot and left. As he hastened past Christian, he flashed him a knowing sidelong glance before disappearing around the hedge, absorbed by the night.

Christian gaped speechlessly with his brow creased in one or two clearly defined lines in spite of the darkness. He stood stock still, listening to the receding (and uneven) footfalls of his brother.

"...I - I -"

He blinked and stepped in the direction of the castle, wanting to leave and yet...

"...I - !"

He turned dazedly towards Adalia and shook his head as if to physically clear his mind. Then, avoiding her gaze, "I - I - I ap-apologize, Princess! Pl-please, I-I do-do not - I am not sure -- Ri-Rian..."

He choked on his words and stared up at Adalia abruptly and in bewilderment before lapsing back into an uncomfortable silence and feeling the heat returning to his cheeks.

His eyes fell again onto the ground as he muttered half to himself, "He-He is not f-feeling w-w-well, t-to-tonight..."

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]