ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍʳᵃᶜᵉ˒ ᵃˢˢʰᵒˡᵉᵎ

          “Alas. They must’ve been informed that I have other duties to tend to.” He sighs, perking his brows whilst palms rummage in his pockets. “Reminds me. I brought you something. From my last trip to Paris – that little shop in the square. I saw you eying it.” It’s presented in typical blue casing as he extends the package forward. “It’s different, like you. And hopefully it will remind you to stay away from snakes.”       Of course the ‘future king’ rolls his eyes, quite dramatically at her instigation. “What mother doesn’t know – at first – won’t kill her…” he smirks, knowing damn well, if he does show up, it’d be the talk of the tabloids in the morning. He recognizes that Helena is extremely harsh when it comes to the twins, the expectations seem insurmountable at times, he should know…but, he adores his mother, far more than his father these days – Simon’s always been so…cold and distant towards him…Robert’s noticed that the king has a much more delicate hand when it comes to Liam and Len, nurturing, kind. – He’s never received such favor. In his eyes, Eleanor should count her blessings. There are a great many. 

          “You been well, Lennie?” he offers, his voice soft, truest concern shining through. 

         “Oh? What a bloody shame.” She’s like an excited school girl for a brief moment watching dear Robbie actually fiddling with something in his pockets. She curiously, extends her neck out looking him over carefully.  “Oh? You brought me something? Best brother of the year award, I would say?” she smiles as he gives her the present, that actually made the darkness filled mindset fade away. “Ah, Robbie,” she exclaimed finally removing the box’s lid and unveiling the antique-style ring. “What an absolute gesture. Easily dropping hints of protecting me?” she smiled.

        “Perhaps not today, or tomorrow,” she points, slipping the ring on her middle finger, then looking back at her brother. He knows what is wrong and what is right. Best of all, Robert wasn’t an idiot when it came to mother and her demanding wishes. “Bloody hell, if I go to a party again and lose my mind, clearly I will be on the tabloids,” she deadpanned giving her her brother a small shrug. 

       “Fine, just fine. You know me. And you?” Was she fine? Sure, Eleanor found it easier to drink until the sun arose, but now here she was staring back at the male trying to scrap some sort of gesture to make it better. But it wasn’t.