#ofdevotiions

Nightmares were surprisingly uncommon during their stay in Switzerland, but not unheard of. While most nights found Soren exhausted and yet jerking into consciousness without a memory of why he bolted to alertness shortly after, incapable of sleeping and resigned to starting the day yet again, sometimes he remembered. Sometimes he thought about the sound of gurgling breath, he thought about hands hitting skin, and he was filled with the need to make sure his family was safe. 

“Simon, what are you doing out here?” It was a stupid question, he’d hardly locked Simon up in a tower and the fire was out even if you could still feel the heat rolling from the charred remnants of the stables. Still, there was some worry that if he looked away, Simon would trip (or be pushed, considering the attacks) into the ash and burn himself. The fires had led to Abel’s protectiveness once again soaring to its highest points and he put himself in check, clearing his throat as he asked in a calmer manner. “Have you gone to see the horses?” A smile crossed Abel’s face and he reached out to grab Simon by the shoulders, matching his breathing to that of his brother’s to check that it wasn’t ragged. “Most of them have been found. Still some wandering loose, but people are still out looking.”

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 cooped up in that carriage, Petra needed a stop to smoke, what she hates about traveling is the journey to arrive at the final destination. JOURNEY are always unpredictable. She rested her back on the tree where she was smoking a kind of cigar, and drinking vodka, in a tiny bottle. She heard the footsteps of somebody approaching and looked in the direction. It felt nice to stretch her legs and arms for a bit.  ❛ Who said you are invited to be with me? ❜

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 at night and Martina went to do her nightly stroll she does every day, which is either grabbing a glass of warm milk or take Figaro, her lynx for a stroll. One of her guards was following her, and she went to play with her giant feline, she sat on the grass, giggling when Figaro was rubbing himself into her back, and into her body. She took a twig, from the ground and throw it to Figaro.  ❛ Andiamo! ❜ She encourages her feline to grab it and it brought to her jump on top of Martina, making her fall on the grass as he licked her cheeks. ❛ Bravissimo Figaro! ❜ She states, caressing his furs, as she heard a twig break, and he gets off of her going to the source of the noise. ❛ No Figaro! ❜ She demanded, standing up and... Met with her broken betrothed. He was a person she was avoiding, despite it wasn't her fault it was broken. ❛ Hello, Arthur. How are things going? ❜

"Freja!” Dorothea slide into step next to her sister-in-law. “Will you take a turn around the gardens with me?” They had all been so busy since they arrived in Switzerland, and it seemed that she had had little chance to catch up with the youngest of the family. So much had occured, it seemed only fair to check in on the younger woman. “Come, sister- we have much to speak of.”

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 of night, and Martina left her chambers. She decided by herself that the validity of her 'punishment' to not step into the French's chambers are over. She can't wait to see Laurie, normally in her night strolls she is with her lynx Figaro, but since she is sneaking or trying to get into Laurie's bedroom, she went alone. Martin/Aldo had fallen asleep and the other guard Eli hired to watch her went to pee. She was in her chemise and barefoot, trying not to look so suspicious as she walks... But the moonlight reflecting on her pale skin, made her highlight a little. She finally was reaching the French quarter's entrance, when she heard footsteps and turned to see... Angelo. ❛ Hey Angelo... I'm going to get a glass of milk, we don't have these in our quarters so... ❜ Every night she goes to fetch herself a glass of warm milk, but this night was a lie.

⊰   𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 . at least not by any of the rinaldis , whom she apparently only was connected with through a shared name . a simple afterthought , to her name. nothing more than an addition, that hadn't changed anything . it had been less than an hour since her argument with martina, yet it was not only the scrape on her cheek that was stinging ; but shame. burning hot in her chest with her breath heaving as the adrenaline waned. usually , narisa always remained collected but the shock in her face grew when she spotted angelo near her chamber . her mind was so much of a mess that she’d forgotten that she asked for him earlier . for a moment, she wanted to turn around but the familiar sight of her guard ( friend ) reminded her that perhaps she wasn’t alone at all . or that at least both of them were what martina called intruders . both only bound by duty to the rinaldis. “ angelo ” she headed towards him, a blasé tone covering her earlier agitation. “  i’m wondering whether you’d prefer to go to thailand with me or rough up a scrawny dauphin . i’m curious to hear your thoughts . ”