the sultan stopped, hearing the pen drop to the floor with a loud crackle. he rose an eyebrow and bent down picking up the plastic between his fingers. he laughed but nodded as he stood straight again. “attacked by a pen is a new one,” he said offering it back to its owner.

Hearing the other immediately dismiss the “attack” with a joke, his own worries dissipated, bringing back the normal carefree attitude he was accustomed to. “Definitely something to add to you’re list of accomplishments. ‘Survived an attack by pen’. Sounds kind of daring, eh?” He joked as he took his pen back with a small head bow in thanks.

Armed with their laptop and a fresh cup of tea, Rory wasready to do a bit of research. All they needed was a cozy spot to do so. Thelibrary would have worked had it not been so crowded. Their bedroom would’ve beenfine had they not banned themselves from doing such research there. Calling itresearch may be a stretch. Searching and reading through tabloids and blogs formentions of themselves was hardly an academic pursuit. But Rory didn’t trustthe press team and preferred to see it firsthand.

Barely through the door, Rory reached up to block her faceat the object flying towards them. The cup was tossed to the ground in themovement, spilling hot tea across their front. “Oh, bloody hell!” Rory halfshouted at the shock of it.

Matt winced as he watched the familiar looking individual douse themselves with their own tea, the proceeded to try his best to hold back a laugh. “Bit of tough luck there, I didn’t think anyone would be happening across this room other than myself. What are the odds you happened to make your way in right as my pen decided to make an escape?” This was his usual way of dealing with things, especially awkward situations, joking his way through it.

     siv is mostly minding her own business ; maybe her eyes wander a little as she walks the hallways with purpose ( her task : to take fresh flowers to one of the lounges ), but they pay little attention to her — the invisibility of the help ; it’s amazing sometimes. she flinches at the projectile headed her way, water sloshing in the vase and splattering on the floor. gaze looks almost BLANKLY at the water before her black uniform shoes : ugh, guess she’ll have to clean that up too. “ don’t worry —- it’ll take more than that to kill me, i think. ”

“i’d sure hope so, I’d hate to be thrown out before my first week for killing one of the palace staff,” he said halfheartedly, his worry already beginning to fade as he got up to retrieve the writing utensil turned weapon. “Though it doesn’t seem like the attack phased you at all, I might add.” Picking up the wet pen he dried it with the end of his shirt as he awaited a response from her.

Ferah had dodge the projectile just in time with a raised eyebrow. “I’m fine. Though, I clearly need to watch my back around here if people are going to start taking trying to take me out with pens,” she replied, flippantly. She was far more amused than annoyed and the younger man’s faux pas. Picking up the writing utensil, she moved to return it. “Your aim is a bit off, by the way.”

He was thoroughly embarrassed. Not only had he managed to make a klutz of himself but he had done so in less than a week of having arrived. Still, as per his usual mannerisms, the feeling lasted all but a minute before it was gone. “I doubt the whole pen is mightier than the sword bit applies in this case, I’m sure you’d have survived any attack with a pen, especially this low brow,” he joked.

When he had received his invitation to the Genovian event, Matt knew that there was a possibility of him seeing some familiar faces, especially after looking over the guest list. But there was always the chance that some would refuse to attend, so he decided not to get his hopes up. That is until he spotted a familiar brunette. “Well well, I had no idea you’d be coming. But I guess that’s more to do with you not responding to my messages lately,” he chided walking up to her.

“I think both are lovely is just different” She said always having her own country in her heart but her personal bias wouldn’t blind her to the fact that countries that had a better weather than they did, where fortunate to have an easier time having a wider range of plants. “How are you your grace? Did you arrive recently?”

Everything was fine up until he heard her address him formally, her words producing a small grimace from him. He knew the law well and knew that he had to be called as such but it had never particularly fancied him. Still, he pushed through it. “I arrived this morning, thankfully it wasn’t as long a flight as I had been expecting. I’m as well as I can be, and yourself?”

Honey here again! under the cut you can read and find out about my by Matt Montgomery!