midnight munchies

[dede]

The last of the clamoring regret, dread, and alarm twisting his empty stomach, keeled over to the pleasurable warmth that spread from his lips as he kissed her, reducing to mere ashes when Odette yielded and began to kiss him back. The existence of this union was hesitant and unsure, yet delightfully giddy, and as tender and joyous as if the kiss itself was a newborn creature taking its first steps. Even as he searched for some tool of measurement, a memory or a sensation from his own bygone days of romantic interest to quantify this kiss he shared with Odette, Berlus found there was not a single moment in his own experience that could possibly compare. There was a discovery somewhere within this kiss, though Berlus was not yet sure of what he had found.

But when it did finish, and Odette sat beside him, he looked at her face, blossoming shades of scarlet. And that regret and dread ignited instantaneously, raging into scalding horror. Berlus could only stare back, dumbfounded. What had he done?

He could not deny it, and according to the shocked expression on her face, her lips hidden by her delicate fingers, neither could Odette refuse that the kiss had been extraordinary; and that was hardly the worst of it. How could he possibly face Princess Adalia now, hiding this… secret, this passion that was now irrevocably branded to his skin like an intricate, fiery scar? And what about Odette? Clearly, she was caught on some level of this rising infatuation- would she recover? Or had he stolen something from her that he could not give back or replace?

However, it seemed, at least for the moment, the exuberant and rather over-assuming doubt coursing blinding through his mind was a fragile thing. As Odette leaned over him, gently lifting his paining head from the soft coat underneath, coaxing another kiss from his lips, the fears vanished, subdued by the pleasing sensation of her fingers seeping into his gray hair.

Berlus followed her example once again, using one hand to slightly support himself as the other reach into her silky hair, which was fresh to the touch, as if she had washed it before slipping down into the kitchens.

[ollie]

[/i] – she was kissing one of her suitors!

And damn, did she like it.

But no matter how much she knew how bad this was, how terrible it would be if someone found out, she couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty, or doubtful, or even the growing beginnings of regret. No, right now she was in total adoration for the prince of Helios, and it took everything inside her not to make this kiss escalate to anything else. It was wrong. It was wrong. It was—

Killing her it was so glorious. Her hands loosened, and she was somewhat aware that she let out a noise between a moan and a sigh. It was indescribable, this feeling blooming inside her – but yet her subconscious was trying to name it, trying to explain it, because it wasn’t right. What she feeling wasn’t right or fair or even remotely moralistic, but it was one of the few times of her life she felt right and didn’t want it to stop. She felt like at one point or another her heart was going to burst from her chest and meet his, not because she was nervous but because she’d never felt this way before in her life. Infatuated, maybe a little interested, but this attracted? That there was a kiss? She’d never gotten anywhere near a kiss, especially one that made her feel so… exceptional. Because that’s what she felt, wasn’t it? Exceptional.

She pulled away, eyes half open before kissing his cheeks and his lips, just sweet pecks. She smiled softly at the rough feel of his blooming facial hair, moving her hands to frame his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks. “I shouldn’t want this. I didn’t…” she leaned back, sitting back and looking at him, though her hands didn’t leave his face. “You’re the prince and you’re supposed to be wooing the princess. But I can’t tell you I don’t find you… I can’t describe how much I like you. Or want you.” She blushed when she said that, looking at the ovens before back at him.

“I…” she began trying to say something, before shaking her head, looking down at his coat. She laughed softly, smiling, running her hands along the fabric before back at him, leaning forward and leaving a peck on his lips, though she didn’t lean away this time, pulling away by only an inch. What was about him that made her all hot and bothered? He was the prince – the sweet prince, the good prince – and she felt like she was in the ovens. Was that normal? Smiling at a sudden thought, she whispered, “Does your tongue taste different?” There was a playful look in her eyes and she giggled slightly as she kissed him again, obviously past her moral issues. Her lips parted, her tongue running along his bottom lip invitingly.

Well, they were screwed.
[/size][/ul][/justify]

[dede]

Between the frenzied kiss, which grew rapidly from its slight and demure stage to earnestly wild and unrelenting, and the electrifying tingle along his skull as she gently tugged at his hair, the soft and wordless noises she made just as they broke apart for a second time left him with an intensifying curiosity to see if he could draw those sounds from her again. The lingering kisses she then bestowed, vibrantly fluttering likes wing beats against his lips and cheeks only quickened the search for another invitation.

He was hardly aware that he was nearly gasping for breath, or just did not care how his chest rose and fell rapidly to the beat of his insistent and yearning heart, drumming a tattoo so eager that Berlus was sure that, it too, could hardly stand the moments separation. What with this din clamoring within his body and heatedly enveloping mind, he nearly missed the gentle sentiments she confessed as she held his face tenderly in her hands.

“You’re the prince and you’re supposed to be wooing the princess. But I can’t tell you I don’t find you… I can’t describe how much I like you.

Or want you.”

If that was not his own truth and growing curse, then Berlus would have left before Odette lured him over to the ovens. He could not recall that man who had wandered restlessly through the castle halls, mulling over the matters of his world, which had pressed heavily upon his shoulder. The polite gentleman, who walked a step behind all of his companions and never rushed, pulled or pushed, had simply bowed to this generally unexplored emotion that consumed his entire personality and all the cares and cautions that went with it. It left him parched and barren, begging for the ecstasy of relief that he was sure only Odette could bring him.

He believed that he did not simply want her. He needed her.

As her hands trailed down his coat, the skin underneath prickled and burned, left feeling rather cheated by the colorful shielding fabric.

Following her provocative question and the ensuing kiss, Berlus shuddered under the pleasurable sensation of her warm, adventurous tongue brushing against his lip.

“Different?” He gasped, pulling away with sudden smile and a breathless laugh. With sparkling eyes, he pushed himself away from Odette and into a sitting position, glancing at the ovens. His fingers flew to the first clasp of his coat, gleaming at the low collar under his throat. “It is too damned hot to divine even the simplest of answers.”

[ollie]

[/color] His voice was a gasp and it was startling – truly startling to know she’d made the poor man breathless or something alike it. She blushed slightly when she glanced around, remembering that they were hiding, especially now that they’d kissed. She swallowed, barely hearing him when he spoke again. “It is too damned hot to divine even the simplest of answers.” She looked at the ovens, wondering if it was the ovens – but, no, it was no warmer than before, when they had first sat down.

“I think it is that we are the ones that are hot,” she said simply, and blushed even redder when she realized what she’d said. She moved towards him, on her knees, and balanced her weight back on her heels. “Let me help,” she said quietly, no longer blushing, and undid the clasps somewhat easily. “I have the same ones on the backs of my dresses. They’re very bothersome, if you haven’t had them before.” Here she was, nervous and jabbering. Looking up at him from his coat, she slid it off his shoulders, and quickly added just for safe measure, “I just didn’t want you to think I undo men’s coats often. Or men’s anything. I’ve never really been kissed… like this before. J-just so you know.” God, he was making her stammer.

She sat back on her bum, her eyes running over him before she scooted closer, her left hip meeting his. One of her hands moved up to his face, running along his right cheek, before she leaned in and kissed him, other hand running along his shoulder. No, she didn’t do this often. But she had a feeling she’d do almost anything for Berlus. Which was a scary thing; she’d never cared this way for a man before, much less one she was forbidden to have. Maybe that was what made him so appealing. Or, maybe they were just perfectly matched. The brash and the thoughtful, the gentleman and the wild child – they didn’t match up personalities, but in a way, they filled the spaces left by their personalities. Maybe that was what made him so… irresistible.
[/justify][/ul][/size]

[Mimi]

Rian grumbled under his breath as he wandered about the darkened castle, clearing his throat every few seconds in a vain attempt to ward away that night's fourth coughing fit. The time in between had been growing progressively shorter and shorter which, Rian had to admit, was beginning to worry him. He wasn't exactly afraid of death, but he was of his father.

Running an agitated hand though his hair, Rian tried to concentrate on the current affair at hand: getting fresh water from the kitchen which his chambermaid had carelessly forgotten to do. (How typical.) However, each step he took seemed to resound endlessly in the sepulchral air, and he was convinced someone would soon come scuttling out of the shadows to "kindly escort" him back to bed. Tonight, Rian had actually tried to sleep; he really did. He'd even changed into his sleeping attire which consisted of a simple white tunic and light brown breeches, but as Fate would have it, he was doomed to sleepless nights until he fell into his final slumber. It was a depressing thought, but if that had to be the case, then so be it. Night was a fitting time to explore the castle, maybe even uncover a few occult things he could use to his advantage. Who knew?

Rian paused for a moment, recalling a servant's directions earlier that day, and pivoted to his right. Ah! There was the kitchen, and the soft glow of the ovens within proved his conjecture. He stepped hesitantly over, looking about slowly to make sure he was alone. He thought he saw a kitchen maid around the area a few moments ago, but she seemed to be gone now.

With a self-assured sigh, he relaxed and walked with ease towards the multitude of stone counters. They had to keep a pitcher of fresh water somewhere here...

"Dammit!"

Rian pitched forward as something furry darted across his path, catching his left foot and sending him off balance. In his anger, he lunged for whatever had tripped him and grabbed the thing by its tail before it could dart off. It yowled indignantly and scratched wildly at the hand that held it captive.

Rian smirked a little bit smugly as he pulled the cat up by its tail, and before it could sink its claws into his forearm, he promptly plopped it unceremoniously into a nearby sink filled to the brim with murky water. The cat instantly shot out of the water, hissing violently, before catapulting off the side and landing with a wet and dull frwump!

It immediately set to work drying its fur, licking hastily at its paw before moving to its stomach and then back.

Rian eyed the cat disdainfully. He absolutely hated cats, and with that solitary thought in mind, he stepped towards it menacingly, intent on scaring the creature out of the kitchen.

What he saw next, however, made him forget all about the fickle feline.

"B-B-Berlus! And...and Odette!" he whispered in an awed tone of voice as he came face to face (or face to faces) with what was undoubtedly a very, very intimate moment.

Berlus and Odette! Berlus...and Odette? Berlus...

Ha! Rian's shocked expression quickly morphed into one of mirth with but a hint of disbelief. He pressed a hand against his mouth to contain his laughs, but it was an inhuman task to ask him to contain all of it in light of this unbelievably ironic situation.

Snickering, he took a step back, the cat now completely out of sight and mind.

[/size]

[dede]

Berlus listened to Odette’s hurried words, smiling with gentle amusement as she deftly unhooked each clasp on his coat. Though, he completely empathized with her current situation and how awkward and insubstantial she must be feeling. Had not he walked into that kitchen, stuttering as if he had never carried a single conversation in his life, while she had brushed it away with her confident smiles and certainty of success. And now, he could hardly seem to find enough words to match the speed of his racing thoughts and dancing heart, while she managed more words per second that she knew what to do with. This peculiar exchange of their predominant personalities never ceased to amaze him.

“I just didn’t want you to think I undo men’s coats often. Or men’s anything. I’ve never really been kissed… like this before. J-just so you know.” If it had not been for the sensitivity in her voice, the rather adorable way she excused her actions and uncertainties, he would have laughed aloud. Clearly, it could not have been more apparent that she had never done anything of the sort before. And he found it sweet and becoming, if not slightly surprising. What with her usual strength and driven attitude, Berlus imagined she could have gotten just about anything she ever placed her mind upon- undoing the coats of choice men being one of those things.

Admitting that he was the only one of her choice, however, embarrassed Berlus. Yet he was not exactly sure how one should feel or react when being told that he is easily the luckiest man on earth. Waste eagerly away under the spell of utter bliss, as he was now?

Not willing to voice any questions or concerns at the time being, he remained silent, and did not object in the slightest when she nestled beside him. He turned slightly towards her, closing his eyes and relaxing underneath her caressing hands as he eagerly consented to another kiss, lifting his own hands to rest softly on her lower back. He did not open them until he quietly broke for air, hopelessly and wholly intoxicated with her entire being. He smiled languidly at her, and at the young man standing further down the isle, illuminated by the flickering orange glow of the ovens. Berlus wondered if the man, dressed in loose sleeping attire, had ever been as fortunate as he was now, and cordially hoped the best for him as he looked back to Odette, intent on another kiss.

Berlus froze, and so did time, which had passed by without a care since he had wandered into the kitchens. And then the moment, ceremonious and tremendous, like a grand, stained glass window, shattered, letting forth the previous bought of horror that had assaulted him earlier. Amongst the fine, glistening powder of what had been, there was only Berlus, a few steps away, Prince Rian who was consumed in his gloating silence, and the glorious mistake he had made, perched by his side.

He shot to his feet, staggering slightly. He was out of breath again and his face deathly pale.

“P-Prince Rian!!” Suddenly aware of his open coat, his hands flew to the unhooked clasps. By no means was he immune to his personal appearance and quality. He kept active with multiple activities at home, his sparse diet kept the muscle lean and stark against his skin. While he never flaunted it, as no gentleman should, he was not afflicted by his physique- but the sight of Prince Rian, caught deviously between utter hysterics and disbelief made him close and re-clasp his coat faster than he was certain he had ever before. “T-To what do we… Do we owe this uh, nightly visit?” He managed shakily, glancing from his coat to Prince Rian, his eyes wide and unabashedly fearful.

[ollie]

[/color] But then, before she could possibly figure out what was wrong, he shot from the ground, leaving Odette sitting without a clue in the world why he would leave her. Had she done something wrong? But what could she have possibly done wrong, she was only—

“P-Prince Rian!!” he exclaimed, and suddenly was beginning to button up his coat. On the other hand, Odette’s normal personality had seeped back into her body, and she wiped her mouth calmly, listening to Berlus fumble with his words. Running a hand through her hair, she stood up and turned around to look at Prince Rian. While Berlus was fearful, there was an obvious anger in her, a desire to bring down whatever doom she could think up for the Silian prince.

“All we owe,” she said coolly, though the disgust in it was heard, “to Prince Rian is a good slap. Last time I’d checked it’s not very gentlemanly to spy on anyone, much less another prince.” She knew it was weak, but she clenched her fists and didn’t mind whatsoever. He’d ruined it. He’d ruined everything between her and Berlus, just by standing there. She glanced at Berlus, at his obvious horror, and she felt suddenly rejected. Was it such a horrible thing to share a kiss? Or, well a few… but in all sincerity, she felt little shame – the only feeling that resembled shame was embarrassment and rejection, and it probably showed on her face. Quickly, she took back the anger, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a firm line.

“What do you want, Prince Rian?” she said quietly, knowing that her title was on the line. Her reputation, her dignity – it was all laid out before her, just by Rian showing up in the kitchen. Unfortunately, she knew well enough that he wasn’t even remotely fond of her. She doubted that would stop her when she plotted his death – which she now very well intended to do.
[/ul][/justify][/size]

[Mimi]

By the time Berlus had so hastily shot up from the ground (much like how the cat had shot out of the water, he noted with amusement), Rian had managed to bring most of his chuckling under control. In its place, however, was left a candid, pleased smile that he didn't even try to hide. There was no point; after all, they didn't try to hide anything seeing as they chose to engage in such activities on the kitchen floor. Well, perhaps not directly on the kitchen floor. His eyes wandered to the cloak, which he assumed was Odette's, before settling back on the overwhelmed prince and his, for lack of a better word at the moment, "blushing bride".

His smile widened a bit as he shifted his feet and looked down, still stifling one or two laughs. Odette was trying, oh she was desperately trying, but nothing could dampen his high spirits especially when he hadn't been so...so...amused in years.

"Oh my, my..." he murmured, looking up suddenly and staring directly at Berlus, "I thought I'd heard something akin to a moan, but I'd foolishly attributed it a, oh I don't know, dying rodent or cat giving birth..."

He shook his head a bit and cupped his chin in his palm thoughtfully, staring at the gold mine he'd chanced upon. It was all so perfect.

"Well, Lady Odette, or perhaps I shouldn't refer to you as a 'lady' anymore since the word does come with certain connotations...but I do believe I am the victim here. I was simply minding my own business and looking for a little midnight snack and some water perhaps when I come upon...upon this and frankly have lost my appetite altogether..."

That wasn't entirely true; his chest was still burning, and his throat had gone dry as though from dehydration. Fighting it off, he wetted his lips before continuing.

"I'm afraid this situation is too delicious for me to let slip by. Many would love to hear about this, say oh...Princess Adalia?" he asked, his tone just dripping delightfully with venom.

"That is, unless you agree to a condition of mine..."

[/size]

[dede]

Prince Berlus was moderately renowned for his unflappable temper and grace when receiving poignant criticism, sarcasm or bleeding verbal attacks. He could take them with no more than a smile and a bow as the aftermath, and then continue with his duties with outwardly unaffected harmony.

So as Prince Rian relished his good fortune and took it upon himself to explain it to the both of them, Berlus recieved it silently with a small, neutral frown strung loosely on his tired face and his hands clasped behind his straitened back. Like any façade however, it was neither deeper nor stronger than his skin, and hardly enough to convince the body of the same, stoic state of being. His heart struggled to work properly within his chest and his eyes continued to betray his burning guilt, fright, and fetid, single-minded hate.

It was that overwhelming sensation of blackened anger that slightly curled one of the corners of his lips as Prince Rian willingly recounted his previous notions of suffering creatures before stumbling upon the tangled pair.

And he positively bristled when the gleeful Prince all too willingly separated Odette from her previous title with the same loving care and devotion as a butcher’s knife that tenderly severs the head of a lamb from its fleecy body. As such, Berlus would not have minded adding extreme physical abuse and mutilation to Prince Rian’s feigned list of victimization.

Of course, in reality, there was little Berlus could do without risking further damage to Odette’s slaughtered name and his marked career. He was in no position to argue or fight back; stripped of any static or dynamic move to subdue the dominant Prince and his threats to expose their treachery to Princess Adalia.

So when Prince Rian hinted at a compromise - nothing short of extortion and blackmail, Berlus was sure of-, there was little more to gain in self-preservation and satisfaction by refusing it.

Berlus glanced at Odette, slightly in front of him, and lifted a hand, placing it on her right shoulder with a gentle squeeze. Looking back at the triumphant Prince, Berlus nodded. “Name your terms, Prince Rian.”

[ollie]

[/color] Hundreds of comebacks filled her mind, flourishing easily, and she had to bite the inside of her mouth not to say at least one or two of them. She was ready to kill him, that was for certain, and she glanced back at Berlus before letting out a heavy breath as she watched Rian deliberate.

She hadn’t felt remorse, not at all, but as he began about her she had to bite the inside of her mouth again to prevent herself from screaming. “Well, Lady Odette, or perhaps I shouldn't refer to you as a 'lady' anymore since the word does come with certain connotations… but I do believe I am the victim here. I was simply minding my own business and looking for a little midnight snack and some water perhaps when I come upon… upon this and frankly have lost my appetite altogether…”

Now, Odette clamped her mouth shut but there was obvious anger all over her. She was almost ready to begin fighting, because what would her father do? Banish her off to the new plantation he’d found himself? Send her taking care of the animals? It sounded better than doing this rat’s dirty work, if that’s what he expected her to do. If he even considered that, she would kill him, and fast. But first, she wanted to know his conditions. She wanted to know what he wanted, what she would be obliged to.

Finally, he finished, and she almost flinched when he put his hand on her shoulder. She wanted to shrug it off for his obvious regret, but she reached up, her hand resting on his in search of some support. “Name your terms, Prince Rian.” She felt like snorting. She was being blackmailed by the Silian prince.

Like hell was she letting him become Adalia’s husband. If that was his aim… she’d agree, but he’d find her tripping him up every step he took.
[/size][/justify][/ul]

[Mimi]

Rian could feel the pair's hatred; the air was laden with it among other almost tangible emotions -- fear, guilt, regret, and from Odette, defiance. Aside from the initial shock and stuttering, Berlus was doing a good job keeping a straight face, almost indifferent were it not for the slight frown. How could he be indifferent, though, when he - the good Prince, the quiet Prince, the responsible Prince - was caught in the midst of such a scandalous act? Something Rian was sure would become the talk of the Reginien court for the next decade or so...if, that is, he decided to slander their names. He had to admit, 'twas a quaint thought, especially when one of the persons in question was Odette, but...Rian was never one for gossip. He wasn't, however, above blackmail.

His smile turned into a smirk. Hate was good; it was useful because on the other side of hate, there was fear.

"Term, my good man," Rian corrected, "'Name your term.' There's only one thing I want, one thing I could possibly want out of you two."

He paused, letting his words sink in for a moment. His face had become completely serious with even the slightest hint of mirth erased as though it'd never been there in the first place.

"The only thing I care about is Princess Adalia. Thus, the one condition to my silence is simply this: Prince Berlus, you stop pursuing the Princess. That's it, and a rather fair condition I'd think. After all, how can you honestly woo the Princess when in reality, you're lusting after her lady-in-waiting? Simply tell the Princess you are no longer interested, and when you do, you will make life easier for us both. You'll be free to have your way with Miss Odette, and I'll be free to marry and go home."

Rian finished with a self-satisfied smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. Thank God he stumbled upon their little mishap else he might have actually had to stay the full seven days. With Berlus out of the way, Adalia would have no choice but to marry him.

He watched for their reactions. It would be beyond foolish to refuse his offer, and they knew it.

A sound in the halls directly beside the kitchen, however, disturbed his thoughts, and he pivoted slightly on his left foot in the direction. He stood like so for a split second, a bit confused, before realization washed over his features, and he scoffed quietly.

"Ah, what timing," he murmured and looked to Odette and Berlus. "I suggest you make your decision quickly, dears, for I do believe someone is coming."

[/size]

[dede]

Berlus could not exactly say that Prince Rian’s demands were surprising or spontaneous. And dutifully obeying the order should not be difficult- he had not been so keen to marry the Princess Adalia in the first place, and had only offered his services out of respect to his country and his father’s insistent and foolish wishes. A different man than Berlus perhaps would have considered himself extraordinarily lucky at such an easily-followed direction, or would have gazed upon Prince Rian as kind or merciful.

Maybe if Prince Rian had not insinuated that he was a habitual, filthy hustler of random woman, or had implied that Odette was a whore fit for only the gutter, he would have repeatedly blessed his favorite stars and accepted without question or despair.

The addition of Odette’s stabilizing hand resting on top of his own offered little to their hopes of escaping this predicament entirely, but it certainly did not deter Berlus from searching for a small allowance of manipulation or pressure for his own benefit satisfaction. No matter how small his prize might be.

Glaring at the cold walls and back again to Prince Rian, Berlus lifted an eyebrow.

“That is all very well, but if I may briefly remind you, that under the Reginien jurisdiction, Prince Rian, you and I must prioritize the terms of Princess Adalia’s choice engagement, regardless of the circumstances.”

Another rustle of approaching sound, resounding for seconds longer within the wide kitchen, gave his words an invigorated and quickened new pace.

“I will refuse her hand, if she so chooses me, but only in due time, and at the end of this trial. Any less and she could suspect foul play. I am sure Princess Adalia would sooner believe lies from her life-long friend and trusted lady than the accusations of the prince from a formally-belligerent country.”

[ollie]

[/i] She felt almost like a traitor, and decided not to speak for fear of her voice breaking. The smirk on Rian’s face brought a new wave of disgust and hatred, a deep loathing that made her want to slap him. Not attack him, tackle him, skin him alive – she just wanted to slap him, to see that red mark left behind on his face. She looked down, to keep from resorting to violence. That would not help.

“That is all very well, but if I may briefly remind you, that under the Reginien jurisdiction, Prince Rian, you and I must prioritize the terms of Princess Adalia’s choice engagement, regardless of the circumstances.” The approaching person became a bit more audible, and she glanced in the direction before sliding her hand off of Berlus’s, shrugging off his hand as well and picking up her cloak. Pulling it around her shoulders and tying it at the top, she had no intentions of staying to see this person approach. It wouldn’t help their cause – they had no idea whether or not this person would gossip, or was one of her mother’s people.

Her eyes turned to Rian as she tucked her hair into the collar of her cloak, almost ready to leave. “Prince Rian, since we have already agreed,” she said, voice flat and emotionless, “I’d also ask you to keep quiet about whatever else you believe to be a blunder. Because I think I know enough about you to bring down your chances as a suitor for Adalia, as well, though maybe not as largely as our… act. But it will still bring you to a screeching halt for long enough, will it not?” Her eyes narrowed, an obvious threat in her voice. “So I would also keep your bride-to-be happy, or you’ll find yourself dead quickly. But, I suppose, we’ll step aside, though you must abide by the princess’s rules. If you don’t, I doubt she’ll be interested in taking you even if Prince Berlus does refuse her hand. She does have willpower – that is something you must have noticed Reginien women possess.”

With that, she stood on her toes and left a quick peck on Berlus’s lips, before stepping back on her heels and backing away with a slight smile, pulling on her hood and leaving for her bedchamber. She wasn’t waiting for whoever approached, though that was a good end to this eventful night. Even if Berlus was out of the running, that didn’t mean that Odette could influence her childhood friend. While not an honest way of doing it, it was for her safety… Right?

Shaking her head to dispel these thoughts, she instead ran her fingertips along her lips, wondering just how long she’d have to be without Berlus. Maybe her whole lifetime. No matter the future acts, she could survive with the memory of their time together. Still, it made her wonder what exactly would happen if she was married. If she did have children. She shivered at the thought, pulling her cloak around herself tighter as she disappeared into her bedchamber, closing the door and looking around. Untouched. Unfortunately, while on the outside her reputation did not change, internally she felt like chaos. A life without Berlus… what a scary idea, now that she’d had a taste of what it could be with him. Collapsing into bed, she slid her cloak onto the floor and folded herself into the sheets, pulling them close as she wondered at how she could be so girlish all at once. Just because of a few kisses.

With that Odette-like smirk, realizing that her time with Berlus would not mar her, she wondered what else Berlus could do to make her feel so exceptionally good.

(ooc) i think they broke each other. :D
that was more long-winded than i expected it to be. :c
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[Nessie]

Sir Nathan Dunbar couldn't sleep. Or rather, he was finding it difficult to sleep, due to the nightmares that plagued him. He wanted to sleep, to fall into blissful oblivion, and yet he knew this was not an option as the ghosts of his past would only return to haunt him in dreams.

Realizing after an hour or so of tossing and turning that attempting sleep was no use, the young man extricated himself from the confines of his bed, pulled on the first clothes that came to hand (a grey tunic and trousers) in place of his nightclothes and tugged on his worn leather boots.

Maybe a stroll about the castle grounds would help to ease his mind. He hoped it would help at any rate; he'd got precious little sleep over the last few days. Pulling on his admittedly threadbare black cloak for extra measure against the castle's night chill, Nathan left his chamber, making sure to lock the door securely behind him, before setting off.

Sir Dunbar was an expert at sneaking about undetected, yet it continued to amaze him how much noise a single pair of boots could make in the dead of night. He was somewhat engrossed in pondering this and trying to come up with a solution to the problem that he didn't notice a door opening on his right. When he did his hand immediately moved towards where his dagger would usually rest at his hip, only seconds too late recalling he had left his belt, with the dagger on it, back in his room. It had never occurred to him he might be tempted to use it.

The man who emerged from the open door was small and frail in stature, yet with a certain aura of hidden strength. His dark eyes glinted in the darkness and his sallow skin shone eerily in the moonlight illuminating the dark corridor which filtered in through the windows. Nathan recognized him at once...it was the duke who'd commissioned him for the murder...and many other things besides. But of course it was the murder that stuck out most strongly in Nathan's mind.

Despite their past altercations, the duke and Nathan got on tolerably well. Sir Dunbar would do just about anything for this man; he was always rewarded handsomely for it. Whether the task be as routine as picking a pocket or as mundane as grooming his horse for him. He gave the higher ranking noble a weak smile, which the duke duly returned.

"You can't sleep either, I see," the duke said, choosing to ignore the involuntary move Nathan had made for his dagger (had it been there). He was always a cautious man, Sir Dunbar. But he did his work and he did it well. It was pleasant that there were still people in this wretched nation that paid their superiors proper respect and deference.

Nathan shook his head. "No, my lord," he replied. "I was just going...to walk about the grounds a little. See if it would help." Nathan wasn't about to tell the duke just why he couldn't sleep; the duke seemed to believe he'd gotten over the incident and he wasn't about to take off the mask now.

Despite his neutral tone and lack of information, the duke was no fool and seemed to have guessed the truth, at least partially.

"Conscience is a word that cowards use, Sir Dunbar," he informed his associate curtly, before abruptly changing the subject. "Since you're up and about, I trust you wouldn't mind doing a small errand for me."

"Not at all, my lord," Nathan replied.

The duke smirked. Nathan was a good man to have around. Always so eager to please. "I want you to head down to the kitchens and bring me back some wine," he said. "Malmsey will do. Just be quick about it." This said, he pulled a small coin from the purse concealed inside his robes and flicked it in Nathan's direction.

Nathan grinned and nodded, catching the coin and holding it tight in his fist.

"I shall return with all due haste, my lord," he said, before scraping a bow and moving away, his pace quickening as he headed in the direction of the kitchens.

The air was now uncomfortably warm, due to the ovens, but Nathan didn't remove his cloak. At least if he had it on he could pretend he had a weapon of some sort concealed behind it...without it he would feel even more vulnerable than he already was.

Sir Dunbar heard voices up ahead and moments later a figure, cloaked and hooded, hurried past him. Not sparing the hooded figure a thought, Nathan continued towards the kitchen, intent on fulfilling his task no matter who was in the kitchen to detain him.

The sight of the two visiting princes, Berlus and Rian, in the kitchen at this hour of night, startled the young nobleman as he entered the kitchen, so much so that he almost lost his grip on the coin in his hand. Hurriedly he bowed low, not daring to look up lest they reprimand him for walking in on their discussion.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Highness'," he said, his voice low and unobtrusive as he could make it.



(ooc: I hope it was OK that I played Nathan's duke a little. I may decide to play him as Character Number Three, who knows. XD Malmsey wine was the wine George, Duke of Clarence, was drowned in in the play 'Richard III'. Yes, I like to throw random Shakespeare references into my posts. =P)

[Mimi]

Rian growled quietly at Berlus's response and ran a hand through his hair, obviously dissatisfied with the man's answer. It seemed his plans were foiled - well, partially - but even partially foiled plans were seen as a failure from the Silian mindset. He could've cared less about Reginien jurisdiction; besides, in a few months, "Reginien jurisdiction" wouldn't exist, only "Silian jurisdiction". All this dilly-dallying and dancing around the matter at hand sickened him almost as much as his illness did. It didn't exactly surprise him seeing as the person in question was a woman, but he would've expected royalty to know better than to delay.

"Perhaps," Rian murmured quietly in reaction to Berlus's claim, "but I wonder how everyone else would react?"

His eyes traveled over to Odette as she picked up her cloak and made to leave. He expected as much from her; she was smarter than most women who, in their embarrassed guilt and stupefied remorse, would have frozen in their places. Odette, on the other hand, seemed neither inflicted with guilt nor remorse, and Rian questioned exactly how close she was to the Princess. Perhaps Berlus might have not loved Adalia, but the very fact that he was pursuing her should have made Odette feel retched about seducing him. She seemed without morals. The real question, though, lay in whether that would help her or destroy her.

Rian raised an eyebrow at her mild threat. Ah, so she decided to use what he'd told her in confidence against him, did she? What a shameless woman indeed! Even if she did publicly reveal his fast-approaching death, it would all be but overshadowed by her and Berlus's much more insidious and intentional affair. It would undoubtedly ruin her; she would no longer be able to return to court without being labeled as a whore or tramp. Yet, she still had the gall to threaten him! Ha! He would've laughed had the stranger, judging from the light footfalls, not been directly outside the kitchen entrance.

"Very well, Prince of Helios," Rian hissed at Odette's leave, "I'll agree to my end as long as when the time comes, you keep to yours. Know that I won't hesitate to ruin Miss Odette's name."

Almost as soon as he finished, a young nobleman dressed in rather casual attire shuffled into the kitchen and seemed very startled by the presence of royalty. Rian crossed his arms about his chest and waved a hand dismissively in the air.

"No need to apologize, Sir; your interruption came at the most appropriate time. We've just finished, correct, Prince Berlus?" Rian asked.

Although his words were impartial, he goaded the Prince with his tone as if he were actually saying, "Can you keep your sinful, little secret?"

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