some princes get hurt. ( rian/mimi, berlus/dede )

[ollie]

“That is a handsome colt you have there. Did you really breed him yourself?” The colt in question was handsome, a leanly cut shire mix that could be used for riding, farm work, or even the battlefield, and he flared his nostrils angrily, like a rebellious teen, when the man came closer. When the man actually reached for the colt, the young horse stomped his hoof and took an angry step forward, and Odette’s hand reached up without fear to place on the colt’s muzzle, stopping him. His mouth met her palm and his breath came hard on her skin a moment before he restrained, having taken a few whippings from her. “A real hot temper, that one,” the man laughed nervously, looking at Odette. She nodded, dropping her hand and looking at the man.

“Well, yes, if you want work done and done well, sometimes you need a horse with personality,” she said, then turned back towards the paddocks. “If you want a more servile horse, you’ll want the black shire in the back. He’s a very sweet boy, a good worker, but if you want them to be also a primary riding horse you want that colt. He grows close to you eventually; you’ve just got to put in the time and heart.” She turned back to the man, and he stood there quietly, obviously mulling it over, before finally pulling out his money and buying the colt. As he left, saddling up the colt and riding him out of the village with a grin, Odette broke away from her stand, leaving her younger cousin to do the work, as she needed something to eat and her cousin needed to learn how to man the stall alone.

Odette seemed to blend in, only vaguely aware of the glances her way. Within the last few years, men had taken increasing interest in her, considering her curves were definitely child making heaven, considering smaller waists meant more difficulty during birth, and difficulty during pregnancy equaled death during child birth. And if the mother died, the man would have to go through courtship all over again with another woman. So who the hell wanted that?

Wandering closer to a shop full of food, Odette glanced up when the look turned from lustful to disgusted. The woman working the shop, a middle aged woman with dark eyes, glanced at Odette’s partially bared bust, which was pushed up by the bodice of her dress, the hem of which was considerably low. Her mother was really pushing her now, and Odette couldn’t tell her she was engaged to Berlus—her mother’s heart would bust open from too much excitement. Mother to a future queen? Her mother would die of excitement. But the woman in front of her didn’t think the same, her eyes pointedly degrading. “Would you like food, miss?” the woman asked. Her brow furrowed when Odette merely nodded, her hands running along the edge of the table that held the food, a habit of hers.

“Do you have pork buns? I haven’t had that many, but—” she cut herself off and shrugged, smiling at the woman. Odette could be sweet, in the right context. The woman nodded, ducking into the back, and Odette glanced over to the other worker—her son. He was young, maybe thirteen at best, covered in freckles, and he blushed scarlet when he saw her eyes on him. He was saved when his mother returned, handing over the buns and patting Odette’s hand, catching her eye. She blushed, leaving the stall and unwrapping a bun, biting into it. Heaven, truly. She studied the stalls distractedly, waving at a familiar face, though said nothing more.

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[Mimi]

Rian sniffed, pressing a black handkerchief - because it was so much easier to hide red blood on black cloth - against his mouth and nose to ward away the vile smells that had immediately assaulted his olfactory senses. Men, women, and children swarmed the open market place, if it could even be called such, that was lying on the intersection of one poor and disheveled avenue and another. Here, Rian was but "one of the fray", and that did not sit well with him; it did not sit well with him at all especially when "the fray" was not only one of poor manners but poor hygiene.

To Rian, there was no market place but a slapdash street of vandals, pick pockets, and the poor. Each stall seemed hastily put together, and each and every one emitted the staunchest scents albeit with the slightest bit of variety. Whether it was the decaying, repugnant whiff of month old cod or the overly sweet and decadent waft of a strange concoction its creator was trying to pass off as "excellent but affordable perfume", they all ended up defiling the same air and space and leaving people like Rian, who'd always been a tad bit sensitive when it came to his sense of smell, feeling nearly faint and light-headed in addition to debilitated.

He blinked blearily against the polluted air, feeling as though the acidity was even stinging to his eyes, and rasped and coughed and hacked his way through the crowd. He smirked slightly, his competitive nature shining through even as he was circling a pool of discolored yellow vomit, the coppery taste of blood faintly marring his senses. Regina, even with all its idealistic claims, had many of the same problems as Silus. Such poverty - twas an unavoidable fact of life. The only difference being that one chose to accept the circumstances and the other, like the cowards they were, chose to cater to more romantic visions.

"Watch your goddamn step," Rian muttered, doing his best to catapult his way through the mob. He gritted his teeth; this was obviously detrimental to his already shoddy health, and the more he thought about it, the more he regretted not sending an errand runner to do this for him. But, then again, an errand runner would not have brought him any more of that sweet alcoholic sustenance Rian had come to depend on lately. ("Depend on" - the phrase grated at his nerves.) Nor would he have found anything, judging from the incompetence of his own entourage at times. He would have sighed if not for the fear of contracting some other foreign disease when opening his mouth.

Finally, like the light at the end of the tunnel, the throng seemed to thin out, and at the turn of this street onto the next, he thought he saw the shop he'd been looking for sandwiched between a seemingly harmless (but readily apparent) brothel and a rundown tavern.

Rian pulled the handkerchief away, folding it with one hand and placing it back into its proper pocket, as he considered the establishment. Shady, questionable, and potentially illicit - it seemed the handmaid hadn't lied. Though, how she came to know such a place...Rian took one glance at the brothel next door and decided it was best to not ask questions. If this apothecary had anything to help him, Rian was ready to take it and pay whatever price needed.

His hand unconsciously went to his side where a bag of gold coins jingled noisily with each step he took. To step out among the common people, Rian had dressed simply that day. Breeches, tunic, coat, and cloak. He fancied that he blended in quite well, but as his traveling eye eventually left the dim and faded sign of the apothecary's, they landed on a different figure, and no matter what she was dressed in, her face was impossible to misplace.

Rian quirked an eyebrow in interest. He'd...heard a few things recently, and though he most definitely did not condone rumors, he was ready to make an exception for those that involved Odette and her little pet of a prince. This would be a fitting time to see if those rumors held any speck of truth.

With a buttery smile, Rian meandered his way past the congregation of buyer and sellers to Odette's side, just a step or two behind her.

"Well, well. If it is not Lady Odette, horse tamer, and as it so appears, man tamer as well. Won't you grace me with your presence, love?"

He quickened his pace just slightly, falling into step with Odette and offering his arm in mock gentlemanly grace.

"I've heard some things of you lately, Miss Odette, and oh my, the things I've heard..."

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[ollie]

“Well, well. If it is not Odette, horse tamer, and as it so appears, man tamer as well. Won’t you grace me with your presence, love?”

Odette had to grit her teeth not to turn around and slap the bearer of the voice. She took another bite, for fear of turning around and hollering curses at the man. Chewing and swallowing, she didn’t look at him as he stepped up to her side, still speaking with that ugly-as-hell voice. If she heard it any smoother, she would slip in its slime. “I’ve heard some things of you lately, Miss Odette, and oh my, the things I’ve heard…” It churned her stomach, her blood even, that Rian would even say such a thing. The main gossipers were Odette’s mother’s friends, and they wouldn’t dare send around rumors… would they? Would they tell Rian things they fabricated, just for gold? They were rat-hearted women, those women, and Odette had stopped caring how they thought of her a long time ago. But them speaking to royalty, to—no. She would not let Rian get in her head.

“Call me love or offer me your arm one more time,” she paused to glance at his offered arm, as if it were toxic, “and I may hurt you, Prince Rian.” There was no venom in her voice, no anger, just plain honesty, and she wished there was something she could do to physically get him away from her without shoving him which would, in turn, mean her touching him. And though Odette didn’t believe in cooties, she couldn’t deny it made her insides shudder to even think of touching this man, even for shoving. She glanced at him, wishing him away silently, before stopping abruptly in hopes of making him pause to weave further into the crowd, smiling up at a tall man when he looked down at her quizzically (as she had replaced his mother). He brightened, grinning smoothly at her, and within that quick exchange Odette had passed behind him and ducked into a door, not even looking up. Not noticing that all she saw was men, at first.

And then a woman’s naked torso, oh my shit. Her mind trilled, and she froze a moment before it registered. Brothel. There was a brothel. And she had turned into it. She blushed visibly, noticing the glances from the women, and made a beeline to the back door, practically jumping out. She paused to lean against the back wall, out of the way of all the rushing, until she saw the two bodies, the way the hands moved, and—holy crap, she thought, looking down as she hurried past the two entangled lovers. She heard the yelp of the woman, and then the man’s hand was on her elbow, and she heard that smooth voice, that goddamned tone of confidence and charm, and she yanked away from him before he could even ask for her name, hurrying down another street (or alley). She shook as she stopped, leaning against the wall of an abandoned building. Whores. That’s what they look like—that’s what men take their sons to, where princes are taught how to talk to a woman. How to handle a woman. She curled her lip, and spit in disgust. Her mother had always told her that; not to hate the whores, the women being paid for sex, but the men paying for it—that those men were either desperate, away from their wives, alone and ugly, or royal. Royals were taught there, her mother had said with a sneer one day during Odette’s childhood, looking at the brothel with a turned up nose.

“Royalty can be beautiful, Odette,” her mother had said, and she heard her words perfectly well, since it was such an awful thing, “but they have their flaws, like a rose has its thorns and a hound kills deer for sport. One of them, that you should know—a king, the first thing he does when his son becomes a teen, is take him to a brothel. He will bring his son to see naked women, to hold naked women, to speak to a naked woman. A son that stammers while he courts his future wife, because royals always have planned marriages, either was forgotten at home or respects woman. Hope it’s the latter, if you’re ever in that situation.” She swallowed hard, remembering Berlus now, and quickly she reminded herself he had stammered—and she hoped it was both the latter and former.

As her breathing calmed, Odette rubbed a shaky hand up and down the opposite arm, stepping out into the street she had led herself into. No one, not a person, roamed the street, and she glanced around. It was abandoned. No open shops. No signs. She frowned, looking either way, before starting down the street, refusing to return the way she came. Thankful she hadn't dropped her food, she bit off a mouthful, chewing and thinking mutely.

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[Mimi]

The way the air seemed to visibly tense at his arrival and how he could almost see the grinding of her teeth (even with her back turned) amused him. He honestly did not know what he had done to deserve such unbridled dislike (or hate, even). Yes, he had blackmailed her and Berlus and perhaps made one or two trenchant comments towards the female gender, but really --- on second thought, perhaps he did deserve her wrath.

“Call me love or offer me your arm one more time, and I may hurt you, Prince Rian."

Rian slowly withdrew said arm, smirking as he did so. Of course he hadn't expected her to actually accept his offer, but it was fun to tease, was it not? And Odette's reactions were most droll. Almost as if she didn't have a sense of humor or even the decency to pretend she did. Or...perhaps Rian was just that repulsive? Hm, no it must have been the former.

"Go ahead, gracious lady," gracious, indeed! he thought, the image of her and Berlus on the kitchen floor flashing briefly through his mind before being scornfully dispelled once more, "If it does you any gratification to hurt an, as you already know, half-dead man, then by all means, do it."

He returned her glance with one just as cold when, rather abruptly, their gazes broke, and instead of walking alongside Odette, he found himself curiously pulling ahead. It took a moment for him to realize what had happened, and in that split-second, she'd disappeared. That little -- ! She'd surely done this on purpose to throw him off her scent, and for a moment, it seemed it'd worked. The shifting and shapeless crowd had long absorbed her figure and any remote sign of it; spending time now searching was both futile and a waste. Besides, if she was going to be so difficult, then he had no further interest in pursuing the topic. Rian bored easily, especially when humoring or wheedling women; he simply did not have the patience for it.

Turning about a few times where he stood, eyes scanning impassively over the drove, he decided that he had most definitely lost her and as such, would continue on with his original agenda. Flicking some invisible dust off the front of his cloak, Rian turned back towards the paltry den that was the apothecary's only to rediscover that which he'd had just given up on. Odette's silhouette flickered across his line of sight before disappearing into the confines of --

"Ha!"

A few bystanders looked up in surprise at the prince's sudden bark of laughter.

Both disgruntled and amused at the same time, Rian wondered at Odette’s reaction when she realized that she’d plunged headfirst into a brothel. Perhaps it was intentional...unlikely. Even he did not like being seen at the brothel, and he was a man -- misogynist, but still. Brothels were usually associated with uncleanliness, filth -- pleasure also, but no one publicly admitted they frequented such places. It was a distasteful topic, not to mention quite taboo.

The humor of the situation was too much.

Rian pushed past the door and into the house of sin. Granted, he wasn’t accustomed to chasing women – it was typically the other way around – but he had had his fair share of chasing hounds, and well, he figured there wasn’t much difference between the two.

Instantly, Rian was assaulted by three girls, two of them tugging at his cloak and one going directly to his waist and snatching the bag of coins from his belt.

"Oh?" she murmured, gently shaking the contents and smiling when she realized just how much the new customer carried on him. "Treat him kindly, ladies, for it seems our new patron is more than willing to pay for our services."

The one before him was dressed scantily in a cloth wrapping around her bosom and a flowery skit. The other two were nearly completely bare, having just come from rooms in the back where Rian presumed they’d been pleasuring men, for the lustful stench was still hot on their bodies. Rian coughed weakly into his elbow, the incense aggravating his nostrils and even traveling far enough to aggravate his dry throat.

A sigh. "Hmmmmmm, he smells pure."

“Pure? And yet not the slightest hint of a blush? Or even the slightest turn of the head?"

“Curtsy, ladies, for we are in the presence of royalty – or, nobility at the very least.”

With a giggle, the three curtsied, one accentuating her breasts as she did so. Rian glanced casually to the side. Was he uncomfortable? Hell, yes, but these women, they could smell fear. It was best he didn't show any lest it be used against him, and he, for some unfathomable reason, would be too weak to deny them.

He reached for his money, but the seeming leader of the three pulled it away coyly. "Oh, no, darling. Payment first."

"Unfortunately, loves, I came here with quite a different purpose on mind. You see, a woman came through a few moments ago, and I was wondering if you would so kindly point me in the correct direction?" He smiled, as charmingly as he could, and the courtesan considered him with a thoughtful expression before plucking a gold coin from the satchel.

Her lips curled into an enticing grin. "That information can be given, of course, with a small fee."

Rian grunted softly. "Tell me what you know."

"She barreled through the back door that way," she paused, pointing, "The alley merges into a cloistered street. If you hurry, you will be able to catch her before she reaches the fork."

Rian tilted his head. "Much obliged, lo -"

“Though...for a handful more coins, I can provide a select few other services. I'll be quick, seeing as you are so determined to catch that shapely lover of yours," she added, playing with the rest of the coins.

Rian laughed drily. “Believe me when I say that she is no lover of mine. And, as enticing as that sounds,” he lied, “I am afraid I must decline. Perhaps another time?”

With an exaggerated sigh of disappointment, the concubine returned the pouch. "Hmm, make certain you return with another bag of those shiny coins, and you can do as you please for however long you wish.”

"Will do," and with that, Rian was across the room and out the door. He couldn't stand the smells any longer than he already had, and without even a flicker of the eyes towards the preoccupied lovers, Rian hastened out of the side street and into the main thoroughfare which, as the woman had said, held not much more traffic.

Rian crept along cautiously, muffling the tinkering sound of precious metal against precious metal and reminding himself of the dagger that he'd stashed in his boot. The stagnant silence wrapped the place in a thick blanket, and if --

"Odette!"

He'd nearly stumbled into the woman's back in his concentration. She must have walked very slowly if he'd caught up with her so quickly.

War had made Rian paranoid and rightly so. Before saying anything else, a sudden clattering prompted him to look ahead where three or four men had apparently been watching Odette until, that is, Rian's appearance. They went scuttling back into the shadows.

"Hmph," Rian murmured (accompanied, of course, by a superior smirk), "It seems I just saved your life. You should be grateful."

He pushed impatiently against Odette's back, shoving her along. "And thanks to you, that brothel mistress took more money that she'd asked for. If you had only behaved, I wouldn't have had to go through that ordeal, now would I?"

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[ollie]

“Odette!”

How many times was this going to happen? Was he really following her? She rolled her eyes and kept eating, trying to ignore Rian’s existence much less the fact she couldn’t get away from it. Odette glanced up at the men scuttling away like cockroaches, but she wasn’t that afraid. Men didn’t realize that they could easily be hurt—right between the legs, actually, and Odette would exploit that knowledge if it came down to it. Within a second she would. “Hmph, it seems I just saved your life. You should be grateful.” At this, Odette laughed, a bitter laugh, and she looked at him.

“I should, shouldn’t I? But all I see is a swine in your place, not a man. They’re easier to slaughter, anyway,” she laughed, enjoying that, until he pushed her. Did he really just push her? By now Odette was seething, and she focused again on eating rather than doing much of anything with Rian. She wanted to hurt him, and with a pain deeper than physical—to kill something precious of his, slaughter his mother, what have you. Something to make a mark on this heartless prince before he died early. She would wait out his time to slaughter something important of his in front of him, to speed up the process—she didn’t care what, just something of significance.

“And, thanks to you, that brothel mistress took more money than she’d asked for. If only you had behaved, then I would not have gone through that ordeal, would I?” She merely snorted, since she didn’t think he was good enough for words, and kept walking, if not faster to get away from him. But he was still following her, still wearing every one of her nerves thin. She let out an exasperated sigh, that hissed as it went, and glanced back at him with a slightly curled lip. So women found this man attractive? If she could get past the slime in his voice, she could get past him, but she couldn’t. Every word felt loaded, aimed either at her or Berlus or even her oldest friend, as if nothing was sacred. Everything must be beneath him in his mind, she had wondered before, and that still made sense. Silians usually thought that way, she’d heard.

“You see, I wouldn’t be so much of a problem,” she paused to turn to him, thought not stopping with her walking, “if I didn’t loathe the very sight of you. Why don’t you stop wasting your and my time and go back to whatever you were doing—throwing rocks at children, cutting open dogs paws, the works—and stop bothering me.” She really wished she could believe it would work, but Odette knew that the likelihood of getting Rian off her heels would only be if she killed him (a very heady option, as he still kept on) or if there was some sudden Silian problem. She ran a hand through her hair, not getting her hopes up—and, anyway, his blood would probably turn out to be sludge—and continuing on, biting off another mouthful. At least pork buns were savory heaven.

Odette’s mind wandered as she tried to think of anything else, and ‘anything else’ took shape of Berlus, and she felt the very slightest heat in her cheeks, not a full blush, but just slightly as the feelings came with the name and the imagined face. She looked down, feeling slightly silly for being changed into a little girl in mind, and swallowed the food almost abruptly, thankful that it wasn’t abrupt enough for her to choke. Because that would certainly be embarrassing, and in front of the worst person. “Why don’t you get on with your whore jokes, get bored, and go?” she asked, since this walking was getting on her nerves, since she wasn’t walking alone.

[Mimi]

“I should, shouldn’t I? But all I see is a swine in your place, not a man. They’re easier to slaughter, anyway.”

My, my, she really wanted to fray his nerves, didn't she? Not that it was working; as seriously as she sounded and as she meant, Rian was finding it difficult to take her seriously. This Odette, she was quite a character, he had to admit, but if she wanted for him to fight her and deny those caustic comments, then as they said, she was "barking up the wrong tree". As far as he was concerned, there was no one around worth defending himself for. Such a person as Odette neither understood nor wanted to understand, and Rian was perfectly content with leaving it at that. Some things were best left unsaid, and Rian knew said fact better than anyone.

Odette had quickened, but Rian followed doggedly behind, determined on having his suspicions confirmed. As far as he'd come (literally), he wasn't going to give up now, and there weren't any people here that she could dodge behind and disappear. It was just him, her, and the biting words hanging in the space between them. No way to avoid him now.

“You see, I wouldn’t be so much of a problem,”

She paused here, turning around to face him with every bit of loathing she could muster (or so it appeared), and Rian similarly pulled up to a halt. He watched her, a bit ranting mad if he did say so himself, with an apathetic calm, waiting out the storm.

“if I didn’t loathe the very sight of you. Why don’t you stop wasting your and my time and go back to whatever you were doing—throwing rocks at children, cutting open dogs paws, the works—and stop bothering me.”

Rian hesitated here even when she seemed finished, gauging whether or not she really was. A woman rarely ever was; he could have sworn that their mouths ran faster than a horse and longer too. As he stared on, however, he noticed a strange peculiarity wash over Odette. It would have been more warranted if she held even the tiniest bit of feeling for him, but in light of things...

As the heat came to her cheeks, Rian didn't need to guess twice to fathom what (or whom, rather) she was thinking of. Interesting... he thought with a knowing smile.

“Why don’t you get on with your whore jokes, get bored, and go?”

Rian quirked an eyebrow up as if to ask "are you done?" and seeing as she finally seemed to be, Rian crossed his arms and replied, "Firstly, jokes? Oh no, my dear, I tell no jests, only truths. Secondly,"

He gestured his hand absently in the air before resuming. "My ego, unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you look at it, is not formulated from the opinions of others. Thus, you’ll find it much harder to break, and rather than throwing around your petty, little words, I suggest grating me in a few months' time when I can barely stand or speak. In fact, I’ll even save you a seat near the death bed, and you can laugh at me while I wheeze and keel over. How’s that sound?"

Flashing Odette a toothy grin and shifting his weight around as he circled her, Rian considered his next words. Then, he remembered whom he was talking to.

"And because you so desperately want to be treated as an equal, I will get right to the point. I want to know where you and Berlus's relationship stands because the better it is, the better off I will be. So, obviously, there are a few things I'd like to know."

He paused again, counting down the few things on his fingers as he talked.

"One, tell me that you have consummated your engagement because everyone knows that an unconsummated engagement is terribly easy to nullify."

Second finger. "Two, that you are indeed engaged as I surmise you are because otherwise, well, we really do not need another common place whore, do we?"

Third finger. "And three, that the ceremony will be…," he broke off, considering, "...within the next month or so because everyone knows that a wedding not hastily done means a lack of - ah hem - 'true love'."

Rian smiled, ever smiling that charming smile, beneath which often brooded something entirely separate. "So, go on," he goaded, "when and where is the ceremony? And I do hope I will be named the godfather to your future brood."

Had he gone too far in his assumptions...? But, no, when one has witnessed his tenth illicit affair, the entire business of heartthrob and heartbreak starts getting a bit...jaded. The way Berlus had looked at Odette that night...and the way she'd looked back...even if he was wrong and they weren't engaged, there was no doubt they would be soon. Berlus was too proud of a man to deflower such a thing as Odette without first committing, and sooner or later, he would no longer be able to refuse those carnal desires that seemed to dwell within every man and that occasionally bubbled to Rian's surface when he was drunk enough to allow it.

Would she slap him? Something worse? That was Rian's initial guess, but with such an erratic temperament as hers, one could never really tell.

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[ollie]

Odette hated him. It pulled everything in her taut, that simple fact, as she watched him, half-listening to what he was saying. He might be handsome, he might be able to charm other women out of their underclothes, but the simple idea of anyone touching Rian in any way other than violently made her want to shiver. The idea that he was such a terrible person, that such a terrible person could exist, made her want to mistrust the world as much as he, but then that would mean understanding his point of view, thus being something like him. That would be disastrous and mean the world had warped somehow, between now and then, so she didn’t want to consider such a possibility.

It was shocking, that he was still talking, because nothing quite registered in her mind. She didn’t truly pay attention until the words ‘consummated’ and ‘engagement’ came into the same sentence, only a few breadths away from one another. She half-blushed, the idea of telling Rian such a thing disgusting her to the core of her body, and it left her mind in a buzz as he continued. Her jaw set, and she watched him mutely as he continued on, until she assumed he was done. He was smiling now, that horrendously proud smile and she could see his mind working behind his eyes, angry words working up her throat. It was so shocking that the world could make this some poor girl’s option in life, and one actually considered by sane people.

“If you’re asking me if we’ve had intercourse, Prince Rian, there is not a chance in the deepest part of hell that I would even consider telling you,” she spat, lip curling in distaste. Her mother had always told her not to tell anyone whether or not a relationship was consummated; that it should only be understood when the woman was readily with child and the couple happy and smiling side-by-side. “Second, we are engaged, and there was never a chance of me becoming a commonplace whore, because if there was, I’d have to be somehow related to the women in your family. Third, I won’t tell you anything about the ceremony because then there’s the chance that the likes of you will show up, and since I don’t even want you to know whether or not my engagement is legitimate, I don’t want you there, either. I don’t even want you in the same kingdom, so make note of staying out of Helios and Regina within the next few months.”

Odette stopped, eyes searching his face, at a loss for how someone could be so horrible. Finally, she just shook her head and turned on her heel, rubbing her face. She paused, one last thought coming to her mind. She half turned, studying him a moment, before speaking. “I hope you never come near my children, and that your brood, if you ever trick a whore into birthing your children, will never come near mine. So why don’t you go back to that damned brothel and charm some unlucky lady into taking off your breeches, so you know what it’s like at least once in your life, eh?” With that, she turned away and continued on, wanting to get back to her horses and forget Prince Rian ever touched the same ground as her.

ooc; yes, that was just the origin of “your mom.”

[Mimi]

Ah, the confirmation! As he'd thought, they were engaged, and something like satisfaction or hubris settled snugly into place. Being right - surely it was something he could never tire of? But even as he thought it, his gratification seemed to dwindle away under Odette's vehement - almost violent - scorn. Such ugly words! He had not thought it possible a woman could utter them, but then here was Odette! proving him wrong. Wrong! Another ugly word - even in the right, he seemed in the wrong because of - of this girl's impudence! It was enough to make him sick to the stomach. Absently, he wondered if he would ever become accustomed to her thick-headed ways only to remind himself that, seeing as he was living in physical deficit - the large debt drawing precariously closer and closer to being paid in full - he would not have the chance.

He struggled to keep in control; the very thought that she could cause him to lose control was amusing enough to make him want to laugh in her face right then and there. A Ha! for every loathsome word she said; surely, he would have died from it by then. If she was wanting to get him vexed, she had accomplished the goal, but react in any way to support the fact? Oh, no, Rian would not give her the benefit.

He stared aloofly back as she searched his face as if looking for something other than the antipathy that had made its home in the countenance of the spiteful albeit young heir (or rather, soon to be ex-heir) to the Silian throne. What was she looking for? he wondered. Even as she turned and began walking away, Rian did not react. Nor did he react when she glanced back over, saying something or other about his future children (as if she didn't know such could never happen!), the brothel, and an inappropriate suggestion concerning it. Well, then. She was a bitter one; it entertained him to think that she thought they were any different from each other. Did she truly think so? But, how could she when the similarities were so glaring? The defiance and the conceit and the disdain and the turbulence... Were they not the same? ...of course. Of course they were; it would only take a bit of effort on his part for her to admit it. But, Rian would not be bested, least of all by something even less than a woman - a girl.

With a truculent growl under his breath, Rian took a few bold strides forward and caught her wrist, a bit softer than he would have liked. Smirking a smirk that had a calculated and considered purpose, he whispered but three words near her ear. "Prove. Me. Wrong."

And he pressed his lips passionately, though harshly, against those that he never would have ever, ever considered kissing had the circumstances been even the slightest bit changed. The initial awkwardness fell away as easily as silk off of the body and pooled about their feet, creating the briefest encirclement between them and what lay beyond them. Rian swallow the urge to jerk away; in truth, it was not nearly as bad as he thought. He doubted anything could have been, seeing as he'd expected to be digested into the deep, black bowels of Hell.

...One can imagine the surprise when he wasn't.

He would have smirked triumphantly, given the chance, and took a half-step forward, further lessening the distance between himself and herself.

...How would Miss High and Mighty react then, he wondered.

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