RUST , RUSTED .

❝      it   isn’t   hard   ,   aren’t   i   always   the   loveliest   ?      ❞   narcissistic   ,   perhaps   -   but   nonetheless   true   .   aleyna   dragavei   ,   through   the   blessing   (   or   perhaps   the   curse   )   of   the   gods   ,   is   divinely   beautiful   .   she   reaches   a   hand   out   for   sorcha’s   own   ,   grasping   it   and   granting   a   bright   smile   .   ❝      but   not   as   such   ,   you   i   adore   .   i   would   not   dare   to   do   such   a   thing   to   you   .      ❞

❝    none   so   polite   for   royal   ears   .   ❞   there’s   a   hint   of   mockery   in   her   tone   ,   yet   it   is   all   in   jest   .   for   if   she   tells   him   ,   she   must   kill   him   and   all   that   .   there   are   some   things   even   the   prince   must   not   know   ,   things   they   couldn’t   bare   even   iris   knowing   ,   however   horrible   a   thought   that   may   be   .   the   king   surely   knows   not   of   what   goes   on   in   secret   beyond   his   gaze   ,   this   too   they   know   .   for   if   he   did   .   .   .      ❝   maybe   so   ,   but   often   my   choices   -   our   choices   -   are   not   our   own   .   the   choices   are   taken   from   us   .   ❞

❝      i’m   pleased   to   hear   it   .      ❞     moiré   offers   in   response   ,   returning   her   gaze   to   sorcha   .   sweet   child   holds   so   much   of   moire   within   them   ,   a   once   sweet   apple   rotting   from   the   inside   fallen   a   the   root   of   a   tree   -   rot   coating   it’s   own   roots   .   ❝      if   only   it   were   so   simple   .   i’m   afraid   the   king   would   not   permit   such   a   thing   -   in   attendance   or   not   -   as   we   must   be   the   example   .      ❞   a   beat   .  ❝      and   perhaps   you   are   correct   ,   my   dear   ,   but   i   do   still   have   a   child   or   two   to   be   married   off   ,   as   you’ve   stated  .   this   only   serves   as   the   reminder   of   how   critical   the   correct   match   is   .   my   own   choices   have   been   .   .   .   rather   suitable   thus   far   .      ❞

she   will   not   allow   her   mother   to   ruin   this   day.   meek   &   fragile   daphne,   usually   cowering   beneath   her   mothers   gaze   stands   rigid.   fingers   tucking   in   as   hands   form   small   milkened   fists.   amber   gaze   fluttering   to   her   dark   haired   lover   a   distance   away   as   she   shifts   her   weight   nervously.   gaze   darting   back   to   her   own   hardened   one.

today   she   will   take   root   &   stand   her   ground.   the   weight   of   her   love   gives   her   courage   to   stand   before   the   lioness   known   as   her   mother.   she   raises   her   shield,   bracing   herself.   “   i   will   tolerate   no   ill   word   against   us   today.   ”   she   begins   with   a   hammering   heart.   “   i   love   you   mother,   so   much,   i   do,   this   you   know.   ”   spoken   in   truth.   “   but   please   allow   us   this   day   of   togetherness.   do   not   approach   him   on   my   accord,   please.   we   are   happy.   i   am   happy.   ”   teeth   sinking   into   her   lower   lip.   a   beat   of   silence   thundering   as   loud   as   her   heart.   she   tucks   away   the   little   crying   girl   that   threatens   to   spill   out.   “   it   will   not   harm   our   name   for   me   to   have   one   day   .”   (   always   selfish.   )   “   no   one   will   even   notice   us,   they   are   here   for   the   others.   ”   but   this,   daphne   could   not   guarantee.   though   she   truly   believed   a   lady   and   a   commoner   in   public   eye   would   go   unnoticed   given   two   matrimonies   of   love.   chest   swells   as   breath   is   held.   * @prnced​ ft. mom

a  sigh  fills  the  room  fully,  threatening  to  crack  its  four  walls  with  the  soft  yet  heavy  weight  it  holds.  nalini  turns,  her  scarlet  coattails  swishing  against  the  rug  of  the  room,  like  tail  of  a  dragon,  mighty  and  colossal  and  every  bit  as  threatening.  her  steely  onyx  eyes,  always  the  focal  point  of  her beauty  and  mystery,  found  and  caught  daphne’s  cowering  ones  like  a  bird  of  prey.  then  she  stays,  silent.  judgement  dripping  heavy  from  those  very  eyes  that  used  to  look  at  her  angel  with  so  much  love.

‘oh  daphne,  i’ve  much  more  pressing  matters  to  attend  to  and  you  come  here  as  if  you  and  your  current ... paramour  is  the  most  important  thing  in  this  whole  wide  world.  the  anastase  is  not  WELL -  PLEASED  with  the  predicament  your  brother  has  found  himself  in,   however  he  found  himself  in  it.  kadri  might  have  his  chances  ruined.  casimir  is  in  over  his  head  and  i’m  trying  SO  HARD  to  fix  every  mistake  and  to  get  everything  in  order  again  and  you ...  you  come  up  to  me,  making  everything  about  you,  as  you  always  have.  daphne,  i  know  you’ve  never  been  very  smart  and  i  know  you  to  be  unmindful  of  others  sometimes,  but  could  you  please  have  a  little  bit  of  compassion  for  your  family  in  these  dire  times  ?’

@prnced​  ─   discord  starter  call

They are discreet, almost entirely separate for the evening. The only thing that connects them is the stolen glances across the room, the occasional hands that touch as they cross paths.  Madelinde plays her part well, with bright smiles and honey laced laughter as she pretends to enjoy the festivities, constantly keeping the anxiety that lives in her chest dormant. As the song ends, blue eyes wonder to meet his for just a moment before turning to her dance partner and excusing herself. Feet move quickly and purposefully towards the garden doors, passing the prince as she does so. There is one final glance before she vanishes into the darkness of the night. 

his  eyes  catches  hers,  blue  saphires  like  none  he’s  ever  seen  before.  yet  it  is  only  after  the music  ends,  and  people  starts  to  bustle  to  find  a  new  dance  partner  that  he  blends  in  with  the  crowds,  disappearing  towards  the  garden   doors  where  he’d  sooner  find  the  tails  of  her  dress.  it  was  blue  as  always  with  madelinde.  and  he  loves  her  in  blue,  as  it’s  the  first  color  she  has  drenches  herself  in  when  he  first  truly  saw  her. 

being hauled along felt a little uncomfortable, sure– the healing process of the wound on his abdomen still rather tender, but as he gazed to sorcha all he could do was let his lips form a slow smirk. with a glass of adi-knows-what in his hand, there was a slow swirl of the dark liquid before tipping it ever so slightly towards them.     “pretty sure i could sneak you out of here fairly easily. but here i was hoping to stick around and see if i can pick up on any whisperings for some future ammunition. come oooon, stay with me.”

sorcha  LAUGHS.  the  sound  so  free  and  unlike  any  other  that  came  out  of  their  painted  lips  :  always  with  a  lingering  darkness  and  thinly  veiled  threats.  yet  with  anduin  laughter  comes  easy  and  his  frame  always  serves  to  hide  their  smiles  and  joy  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  this  is  our  secret,  sorcha  would  say  to  anduin.  my  joy  is  only  for  your  ears  to  hear.  ‘well  i  guess  i  can  stay,  but  only  if  you’re  by  my  side  the  whole  time.  i  don’t  mind  turning  people  down.  in  fact,  i  quite  enjoy  it,  but  it  gets  tiring  after  a  while,  you  understand  ?’

on the apples of her cheeks, frustration tinges the skin pink. the towering lord’s palm upholding hers clammy and his breath soured with ale and meat, he is far too near for her liking. his request to dance is a favour returned, for he is an old friend of her father’s. no matter the disdain bright in her eyes when he nears, he insists. so isolde bides her time, waits for the moment she cannot feel another’s gaze resting on her to drive a shoe heel into his toes. she never gets her chance.

sorcha’s delicate hand in her own the next moment, cool and smooth, swanlike arms dressed in perfume draws from her a relieved smile, genuine in how the corners of her eyes crinkle. ‘ oh, praise adi for you, ’ an apology for becoming carried away with frivolities rather than the watchful eye she’s expected to keep is bitten back. it will wait till afterward, she decides. ‘ my parents are fond of the man. ’ but a stranger to her, isolde spits out the explanation in annoyance. her shoulders relax before them ; yet, she catches herself. they are one she’s to protect, despite the ease with which she lets them lead her across the hall in deliberate, staccato steps. ‘ how odd, lady sorcha, ’ in humour, she tips her head to one side quizzically. ‘ what is my employer doing saving me in dire times? ’

‘they’re  fond  of  him,  but  you  are  not  !’  they  offer,  amusement  thinly  veiled  from  their  voice  as  terracotta  lips  parted  to  form  a  smile  and  at  that  moment  a  glow  appears  like  sunrise  on  their  otherwise  dull  skin  that  has  always  reminded  their  late  husband  of  gypsum  :  flat  and  colorless,  lifeless. ‘he  is  old  and  decrepit  and  i  am  sure  had  first  met  you  when  you  were  all  but  five.’  sorcha  knows  this  game  very  well  and  has  liked  to  partake  in  it  for  their  eyes  a  piercing  shade  of  the  ocean  and  their  gaze  overbearing  and  commanding. they  have  always  liked  seeing  powerful  men  trembled  before  them.

Her wife was not someone who apologised first, nor was she very good at it. It had been days since their last conversation, if a fight could be counted as one, that is, and though the Wenchikan lady seemed to be at ease sleeping with her anger, Filomena was not and was determined that today was the day they’d put matters to an end. ‘Nalini,’ her voice no longer pleading, it behest. ‘We need to talk about Kadri. No, we need to talk about you…and the kids. They are not alright.’  /  ft.  @prnced​

when  does  a  fairytale  ends?  when  you  start  to  live  it. because  life  is  not  made  of  dreams,  it’s  bricks  and  bricks  of  disappointment  layered  with  a  thin  cement  of  happiness. in  the  end,  of  course  they’d  come  tumbling  down. 

 a  sigh. nalini  closes closes  her  ledger  and  stands  up  from  where  she  is  seated  by  the  window  but  she  makes  no  move  towards  filomena. instead,  her  skirt  sweeps  the  floor  behind  it  as  she  turns  away  to  look  out  the  into  the  bleak  scenery  that  greets  her  beyond  the  glass.

@prnced​

“Hmm…your father looks rather pleased with himself.” Silaqui muses, leaning towards Servaos slightly, voice lowered in order to prevent anyone from listening in. It wasn’t as if Silaqui was speaking anything treasonous–they were far to smart to speak such thoughts out loud–but there was no telling what would be enough to earn his majesty’s ire these days. “Tell me, is any of this actually his doing?”

‘Your jealousy is showing, my dear. Go achieve something in life, then maybe your Mama will love you as much as she does me.’ A smirk. Youngest person in history to be appointed as the master of laws, of course he had done unsavoury things to get there. Nothing to cry about. ‘Heard your husband chose death over an eternity with you. WELL DONE, you’ve outdone yourself once again! And to think the disgust in the young jarl’s face at your approach was your paramount success.’

mina is caught by surprise , the young anastase’s lovely face looming into view when she had least expected it . grey eyes take them in coolly , of course the princess had heard of their lord husband’s death along with most other within the court . “ no apology needed ,  my lady . ” her smile is graceful , slow to come but it remains all the same . she is no stranger to the perils of her new family . “ ah , your brother is too kind . it is he i should be spreading good word of far and wide . i could not ask for a better husband . it is with him that i flourish . ”

@prnced​​​​​         /        ❝    what   a   terrible   party   ,   with   terrible   people   pretending   they’re   happy   here   .   ❞   a   sigh   ,   ❝   still   ,   perhaps   we   all   just   wish   to   escape   for   the   night   from   some   of   these   choices   that   we   make   .   ❞