✧ — ⋆Egotistical

Anthonious paused for a moment, meticulously processing Eleanore's words. In the world of nobility, it was particularly uncommon to have such humble pursuits. Many pretended to be unpretentious; few truly were, but he believed her, which made her stance all the more intriguing. He leaned closer, his brow furrowing slightly with genuine curiosity, his usual aloofness momentarily slipping away when he asked, “Why is it that you would wish to hide in the shadows?" Something inside him urged him to understand the true nature of the timid girl. He barely suppressed a chuckle at her next statement, that little flame within her flickering again. “All is accurate. I won't pretend that in the grand scheme of things, you are easily forgotten.” It was not his intention to be cruel, but he wouldn’t dare feed into some fantasy to boost her ego. He raised his glass to his lips and savoured a long, generous sip of his wine before resuming the conversation. “However, that doesn't diminish the importance of your opinion—only makes it less likely to be heard. A truly great king thrives only when he welcomes a broad perspective. Your sister should take notes. ” He muttered, wondering if in a castle that grand, her family would even notice her missing presence. Secrets. Now, there was another overlooked use. It was a shame that their countries were often in high political disputes or wars. Otherwise, she would have been a useful pawn as a wife. “I’m aware you know your place, but do you truly intend to stay there? One must have aspirations. Unless, of course, your parents only allowed room for the twins to dream and now all the good ones are taken.” He forced a dramatic frown. He could not believe the language that came out of the small princess's mouth. It made him want to erupt into laughter. “You naughty girl! I thought noble ladies like you weren't meant to understand what men do between your legs until your wedding night. Where did you learn such a thing? Now, I'm starting to believe the shadows are no place for a young girl like you.” It was far too easy to ruffle her feathers; her radiance of purity was evident, yet he wondered if he could provoke a blush from her delicate cheeks.

Zahra turned toward the unfamiliar voice. The bluntness of his tone caught her off guard, but after days of ornamental kindness and carefully rehearsed, hollow pleasantries, she found it oddly refreshing. A faint smile touched her lips. "No, I cannot say I expected sunshine and rainbows, though I certainly would not have complained if there had been. Still, I confess I underestimated just how determined England seems to be to keep the sun hidden. Is this not supposed to be the warmer time of year?" She stepped closer to the railing, gazing out across the darkening grounds before turning her attention back to the stranger. "As for what I did to get stuck here, let us simply say that daughters are often sent where they are sent where they are deemed most useful. I would assume most came here with an agenda rather than mere pleasure." There was no bitterness in her voice, only quiet resignation. "And you? You speak of the English as if they have left a bad taste in your mouth. What brought you to this gathering if you find the company so unbearable?"

OPEN STARTER // Location: England

Zahra let out a long, weary sigh, grateful for a rare moment away from the crowded festivities.The journey from India had been long, and the clash of new sights, sounds, and customs left her senses on edge. As she stepped outside, a gust of cool breeze swept over her, making her shiver. “Forgive my naivety, but is the climate always this cold here?” She murmured, wrapping her arms around herself.

Her brows drew together, and a tremor of shock and of wild, impossible hope passed across her face. What if? Just moments ago, she would have sworn that she would needto get on her hands and knees to beg him to even entertain the thought of staying a moment longer. Now he had more cause to leave than ever, yet astonishingly, he remained. Had she truly cracked his armour enough to slip beneath it?? She drew a fragile, shaky breath at the hand in front of her. Taking it would summon a storm neither of them would ever be able to command. Yet, still she placed her hand in his firmly, as though signing some beautiful doom. She pulled him nearer and felt the terrible gravity of it all. “Of course I want that. You know I would leap if you asked." Her voice a mere whisper, despite being alone. “But how? When may I see you again?” Her fingers tightened unconsciously around his, as though fearing he might dissolve if she did not anchor him there. She lifted her gaze and searched his eyes earnestly. For the first time, she looked at him in the candlelight, really looked at him. He was handsome in a way that could wound her, in a way that her heart gave a treacherous throb. The cruelty of the situation weighed heavily on her, the cold fact that she could never have him. Not truly. Even a friendship would not be sustainable in the shadows. Unable to bear the intensity of it, her gaze faltered and fell. “We cannot be seen together, if we were—my family would…" She could only imagine their anger and the walls they would raise to cage her more tightly than before. She was breaking every rule she had ever lived by. “Our families must never know. I imagine your family would frown upon it, too. Such a...friendship would be met with nothing but destruction and despair.” Her eyes met his once more, pleading. “And yet the thought of never seeing you again troubles me far more.”

Merdyn kept to the deeper twilight, far enough that the lantern’s glow did not betray him, close enough that he never once lost sight of that familiar silhouette. Arthur was reckless to travel alone during the tumultuous time of changing crowns. There would be numerous ambitious royals eagerly plotting to shift their loyalties and win favour with the new. The stakes were too high for Arthur to be forging his own path without counsel. When he saw Arthur veer toward the estate walls, Merdyn’s jaw tightened. The guards were drunk, yes — but drunk men were unpredictable. A single shout, a single blade drawn in panic — how thoughtless he was.

Before Arthur’s knuckles struck the door, Merdyn shut his eyes and reached for the power coiled beneath his skin — an ancient force he had inherited, yet never truly mastered. He prayed that it wouldn't fail him now, as it often did. The air tightened around him, and even the leaves began to tremble as if a sudden gust of wind had passed through. He focused his mind on the iron latch and the narrow corridor behind it. Suddenly, the forest began to fade away and vanish as throbbing pain surged through his head. The room spun around him as he tried to steady himself, and the fevered rush of blood pulsed through him.

He then noticed his boots were met with a stone floor, not the dirt of the path. His eyes widened at the realization it had worked. The knock echoed through the halls before he had any time ot celebrate or pat himself on the back. Merdyn rushed toward the door and drew back the bolt before any servant could stir and pulled the door open himself. For a beat, Merdyn simply stared at him, unimpressed and deadpan. Then he stepped forward, grabbing Arthur’s arm with firm, unceremonious force and pulling him inside. “You have lost your mind?!" His voice burned with the intensity of a yell, though it came out barely above a whisper. “You walk alone through unknown lands, approach a seemingly random estate, and risk everything? There are men who would bleed for you, and yet you throw yourself into danger like this? Why not send them instead?”

He paused, a slow, amused smile formed as he leaned his back enough to study her. His eyes narrowed with a newfound intrigue. "I thought you were all grace and poise, but apparently, there are teeth behind that smile. Dare I say, I am impressed? You speak of crumbling kingdoms with such ease, I didn’t realize that lovely mouth of yours could be so sharp. It’s… intriguing." The words slipped from his lips, laced with an unexpected admiration. Perhaps she wasn’t as fragile or delicate as her demeanour suggested. He had witnessed countless heirs from the more privileged branches of the succession line, their lives often cushioned by wealth and entitlement, speaking only of indulgences and ceremonies. Yet here she was, discussing survival and politics. Though he couldn't let her get comfortable, He leaned in, close enough to ensure only she could hear.  "You sound more like me than I would have thought. Careful, darling, your ambition shows. Keep talking like that, and one day you might be standing where I am now.” He was never meant to be king, but he couldn't deny the satisfaction he felt in wearing the crown that no longer belonged to his brother. He allowed the intimacy of the moment hanging in the air between them, just for a moment before swiftly pulling away. “Perhaps my nature is barbaric, but true survival, you speak of highly, will demand it. You carry yourself with such poise and grace, qualities that would make you a perfect wife, but kingdoms rarely survive on elegance alone. Please tell me that you are not so naive as to believe your monarchy is innocent and free of cruelty? "

She cringed a bit, knowing that look "I beg of you, please don't pity me...I don't need it" was it harsh? Maybe but the last thing she wanted was to be looked at like some Damsel that needed saving. "I'm getting Married not sold into slavery" she said simply. She was going to be a queen, a queen they will soon realize is not one to be kept on a shelf. "I'll demand to go home whenever I please. My family is too close to not see each other often."

"My mother would be disappointed if I let myself fall into those ways. She always warned me that my cousin, and even my Aunt had their moments of simplicity. I guess when something is done for so long it becomes instinct I suppose. Human nature." Could that be genetic? Past down from woman to woman? She figured she would never truly know. "Then I will hope and pray she is not, Because if she is she is not deserving of you..." Freya sighed "this will be my second attempt and since I failed so ceremoniously last time I can't object now. I have a duty to my family....my home" she explained. "I suppose I will have to be agreeable for the first few months....then I will show them who I really am" Which to some would be a nightmare to have as a wife.

Greta could have easily reached another climax if he had gone a little longer, but she still was satisfied none the less. Breathlessly humming has he reached his own end inside her. Holding on tight to his shoulders as he crumbled in her arms. She placed gentle kisses to his neck to sooth him "Good, very good" She cooed against his skin "....Incredible" she finished his thought and letting her self adjust and pulling him out of her. Getting to her feet, her legs for once felt weak, never in her time sneaking off like this had she felt that way after. "oh, don't look so sad." She pouted Jokingly reaching to cup his cheek "Married or not you may always bed me sir Astor" She declared matter of factly "There will be other balls after all" She teased a bit. "I highly doubt this will be our only meeting."

“I admired that from your mother. There is only one true way to raise a daughter and it is with strength and intelligence. I should only hope that my own wife would be able to raise our children as such. I would not want my daughters to think they fall into a small box, destine to be used as puppets for other men’s reigns." But would society allow him to control such standards? "Deserving of me?” Astor nearly laughed. “Why, I would want to ensure that I am deserving of her as well.” Whatever that may have meant. “I understand. There are not many options should a match fail again.” He knew from gossip that women who broke engagements were often looked down upon — a reputation was everything. “Now who are you truly? Other than an opinionated woman?”

@thyfroxenheart // Reply from here

❛ books mean more than people to me anyway. ❜

❛ There is a different between a book and a person. For one, a book would never talk back in such a disagreeable tone. Even if it had and I care not for what I see, I can merely turn the page or retire the book. Do you not agree? Books could take on another form, one that humans can scarcely amount to. In all, I can hardly see a reason to dislike books. You would need to be completely idiotic. ❜ - Eleanore

"See, this is your problem, Eleanore. You cannot simply retire a book or ignore a page because it merely displeases you. What's the fun in that? Don't you wish to see how it ends?" Josephine replied quizzically. She tilted her head, lips twitching in amusement. Was that not the point of a book? To have you feel strongly, to spark an opinion, or at least let you walk a mile in someone else’s shoes? "Well, that I will agree with you wholeheartedly. I believe many find the process too slow. Or perhaps they’re just picky, like you, and can never find a book that agrees with them." She arched an eyebrow, her tone teasing. "Tell me, do you ever actually finish what you start?"

❛ in this light the blood is black. ❜

❛ we begin in the dark and birth in the death of us. ❜

❛ what rage you must feel as you choke on your sorrow. ❜

❛ it's a darker path and it calls my name. ❜

❛ though she cannot remember, she cannot forget. ❜

❛ and know for the love of god, you need to suffer because there is a god who demands to be bled for. ❜

❛ i wanted to save the little girl in me. ❜

❛ all power demands sacrifice and pain. ❜

❛ born of a shadow with the face of a girl. ❜

❛ poor little girl; still waiting for her happy ending. ❜

❛ i will follow you into the dark. ❜

❛ i am the daughter of sorrow. ❜

❛ down the river, we flow. i'll give you my everything, i'll never let you fall. ❜

❛ you're never going to be back home again. ❜

❛ holy wisdom is not clear and thin like water, but thick and dark like blood. ❜

❛ this isn't who i am but i can't remember who i should be. ❜

❛ i'm not your protagonist, i've not even my own. i don't know anything, i don't even know what i don't know. ❜

❛ her heart was a dark forest, her soul all the wild things which dwelt between the trees. ❜

❛ she has been a prisoner since she has been a daughter. ❜

❛ i was well-practised at not saying anything i felt inside. ❜

❛ blessed be the children, each and every one come to know their god through some senseless act of violence. ❜

❛ and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue. ❜

❛ all your faith, all your rage, all your pain ⸻ it ain't over now and i ain't talking about forgiveness. ❜

❛ half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood. ❜

❛ god loves you, but not enough to save you. ❜

❛ the blood that drips down from your chin is sickly sweet and metallic and, oh, so familiar. ❜

❛ you are not sure you remember who it belongs to anymore. ❜

❛ then bow your head in the house of god, and little girl, who do you think you are ? ❜

❛ you think you need it, you think you want love ⸻ you wouldn't want it if you knew what it was. ❜

❛ the woods have remembered you ever since the first time you got lost in them. ❜

❛ little by little she came to know tenderness and hope. ❜

❛ and now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good. ❜

❛ growing purple flowers from your heart 'til you find peace with everything you've been through. ❜

❛ and from the blood of the wound a flower sprang. ❜

❛ i can't abandon the person i used to be so i carry her. ❜

❛ i am built upon the wreckage of myself. ❜

❛ teach me the words i used to know, i want to remember ⸻ she is me, and i am her. ❜

❛ my life might not be what i thought but i wouldn't change a thing. ❜

❛ goodbye to the girl that i'd been. ❜

❛ i needed to be somewhere different. maybe i needed to be someone different, too. ❜

❛ if flowers can teach themselves how to bloom after winter passes, so can you. ❜

❛ the crescent moon fits the line of your cheek. ❜

❛ gladly feast on those who would subdue us. ❜

❛ tell me that you chose me. that you love me. that you crave the darkness. ❜

❛ i come as a blade, a sacred guardian ⸻ so you keep me sharp and test my worth in blood. ❜

❛ there is blood everywhere and i am lost in it. i breathe blood, not air. ❜

❛ one by one, i downed all the people i'd been. ❜

❛ by touch, by smell, i would know her blind. i would know her in death. ❜

(  dialogue  prompts  taken  from  quotes  of  various  f.  scott  fitzgerald  works.  feel  free  to  edit  as  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ you are afraid of being in love then? ❜

❛ i’ll kiss you if you want me to. ❜

❛ we’ll survive, you and i. ❜

❛ come and kiss me and let’s forget. ❜

❛ hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you. ❜

❛ i’m not used to being loved. i wouldn’t know what to do. ❜

❛ sometimes i don’t know whether we are real or whether we are characters in one of my novels. ❜

❛ wouldn’t it be awful if we fell in love again? ❜

❛ i’m yours - you know it. ❜

❛ you’ve a place in my heart no one else ever could have. ❜

❛ books mean more than people to me anyway. ❜

❛ you’ve got an awfully kissable mouth. ❜

❛ i won’t forget you. i will promise to remember you always. ❜

❛ if i wait till i fall in love again i’ll just wait forever. ❜

❛ things you’ve just said and forgotten, i’ve put myself asleep night after night remembering. ❜

❛ love isn’t like it is in books. ❜

❛ i’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me. i love you. ❜

❛ i keep the light burning on your desk so i’ll think you’re there when i wake up. ❜

❛ the odd thing is that i’m in love with you anyhow. ❜

❛ won’t you let me lean against your shoulder just the smallest bit? ❜

❛ it’s been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful. ❜

❛ it’s sweeter to be alone. ❜

❛ if you’re tired of kissing me, i’d better go. ❜

❛ i’ve formed the habit of liking you. ❜

❛ there’s something between us- a sort of pull. something you always do to me and i to you. ❜

❛ i won’t have to build my love up. it’s up in the skies now. ❜

❛ you’re trying to leave yourself behind, but you can’t. the more you try to run away from yourself, the more you’ll have yourself with you. ❜

❛ i’m sorry i had such a devastating effect on you. ❜

❛ i forgot everything. your lips were so beautiful. ❜

❛ say you love me. say it now — can’t you say it now? even if you don’t mean it? ❜

❛ i still love you. that’s the odd thing. ❜

❛ my god, you’re fun to kiss. ❜

❛ i wouldn’t change you for the world. ❜

❛ it’s all so simple. he loved me and i loved him. that’s all there is. ❜

❛ you’ve fallen for me — completely. you’ve got me in your dreams. ❜

❛ tonight there’s got to be no past or future, no time, just tonight, you and i. ❜

❛ of course you could never love anybody but me. ❜

❛ i’m a lost soul maybe — i don’t feel at all like i ought to feel. ❜

❛ i fell in love with you the first time i saw you. ❜

❛ in my heart i love her all the time. ❜

❛ and what in hell could we ever be to each other? ❜

❛ i realized what was the matter, what had always been the matter — i was deeply and incurably in love with her. ❜

❛ i’m more beautiful than anybody else, why can’t i be happy? ❜

❛ you intoxicated me. it was just as though you were making me love you by some invisible force. ❜

❛ it’s because i love you, dear— ❜

❛ i once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption. ❜

❛ i loved you once — for a year i thought you were the only person in the world. ❜

❛ sometimes you think you’re so much in love that your love could fill the biggest palace conceivable. sometimes you haven’t got enough to fill one room. ❜

❛ his dark eyes took me in, and i wondered what they would look like if he fell in love. ❜

"Loyalty is bought and sold, given the correct price. Only true loyalty lies behind those that are capable of wielding grave power without enacting too much fear." There only needed to be a grave source, one able to shift the balance of power to change the world. "I cannot say that I have, at least not in my existence. I should think there is true loyalty amongst us, we need only to find it. That is were you find it most difficult, finding that true loyalty."

"Arthur is wise, that is true. He is no weak man, but calculated. A man with no men cannot rise up and fight for his belief." Certainly not after several years of constant struggle. Arthur was, in Francesco's eyes, a figure to behold. Though no longer acting king, there was no doubt he would stand by much longer. For that, Francesco held his claim behind Arthur. "Truly. Plenty of us are eager not to fight, but to hold that power. Gaining such power comes at a cost." One which most men fall victim to. "Says the woman who I am sure is ready to enact chaos in her wake." Francesco's eyes locked with hers, his goblet once again returning to his lips. He took a steady sip before pulling the drink away, tongue running against the bottom of his lip. "Now whom would you throw your ring in for? Which of these men are certain to win? I cannot say many, weak little puppies all are sure to run back to their holes with the tails between their legs."

Johanna let out a rare chuckle, acknowledging one of the few advantages of being a woman. “You could be quite persuasive to the right crowd. Bright-eyed girls spill their secrets for a handsome man, throwing away their futures at the first hint of romance. Give them a crumb, and they’ll offer you a loaf.” A trick her father often used. Deep within her, she felt the spark of a small, bright-eyed girl, a soft echo of the hopeful spirit she once embodied.  “I must not count my chickens before they hatch; it feels like a bad omen. By the end of the coronation, my fortunes will be clear to you.” She nodded, recognizing that men often let lust cloud their judgment. “Perhaps you need a female liaison. Powerful men often underestimate how valuable we can be.” Her eyes scanned the crowd, careful not to reveal too much without a guarantee of information in return, but she needed to present something enticing to prove she could match wits with him. She carefully scanned the crowd, her eyes searching for something of interest. She hadn’t wanted to reveal too much without a promise of valuable information in return. Nonetheless, she realized that to prove she could match wits with him, she needed to offer something intriguing.. Johanna pointed towards a girl with raven hair named Scarlett, who was across the room. “She doesn’t seem to fit in, as if she’s a puzzle piece from another picture. She walks with confidence and speaks with assurance that could easily deceive most people. However, not a single person I’ve spoken to seems to know which family she comes from. If you watch closely, she never puts herself at the heart of the action; instead, she lingers on the edge, a silent observer.”

“It sounds as if you are discussing tolerance and compliance in a ruler. That is not true loyalty.” Any level of fear causes obedience, but that was not the same as unwavering devotion. "Unfortunately, I believe true faithfulness stems from love, but love can make you blind and weak.. I think one must choose between love and power. Don't you agree?” Johanna offered a half-hearted shrug. It was the answer she had anticipated, but it was far from the one she truly desired. “We humans are so fickle. It's disappointing.” 

"It seems everyone but King Edmund agrees it's only a matter of time before the former king returns. Yet, we all showed up, didn't we? It seems we all crave a little chaos. I just choose not to hide it." Johanna’s smile curved slowly, dangerous at the edges. “You ask where I would place my bet? On none of these men. I’d rather watch them tear each other apart and make them chase their own tails. Why wager on puppies when you are a wolf?" She lifted her goblet, fingertip tracing the slender stem as though it were a throat she could claim with a single touch. “Surely, you must feel the same. None of them here stir my blood. All too meek, too cautious. But you…” Her gaze lingered on him as her smirk deepened. “You’re the only wolf among these pups. I could throw my ring at you, but I'm not sold yet." Her voice dipped lower, laced with a wicked tease. “ I haven’t seen your teeth yet. Show me more than a growl. Show me you can bite… that you can draw blood. If I see that you might earn more than just my vote."

“Should I be offended that you thought so little of me? My intentions, though not entirely pure, are not always wicked. I may not always agree with my kin, but I cannot be the only one to fight for a simple cause.” He knew the way he came off as, someone who was inclined to care little for the common folk. In that case he differed from his family, holding onto the faintest notion that perhaps it was best to ensure the stability of his own people rather than that of those behind the castle walls. "I do, that is simply life. There is only so much that we are able to do, especially with our power . If I was to be King, perhaps I could make a difference -- as a prince I am trapped within the expectations of my father." To act out against Hans was beyond Matthias own wish, he did not wish to encounter the King's wrath.

His lips curled to a smirk, Matthias finding himself laughing briefly. "Did I hit a nerve?" His brow raised slightly, listening as she spoke. "Is that not what you try to preach otherwise? To have kindness when others do not? You cannot possibly believe I would be so inclined to act with kindness, especially after I have told you plenty otherwise." He was surprised in the way she had spoke, perhaps he may have gone too far. "I cannot say for others, but I do not think it would be with you. It is common for women's thoughts to be dismissed. What do men usually say, that they prefer a woman with no thoughts?" It was a ridiculous notion and yet Matthias knew plenty of men who preached that notion. As sad as it was, that had been reality of their world. Matthias examined her figure, eyes falling towards the curve of her lips and down to the shape of her body. He had imagined what she might look underneath, to unveil what was hidden beneath the mask. From his view, he knew her features would have been soft, perhaps rosy cheeks to match the way she smiled so broadly. He inched closely, voice falling into a whisper. "And what do you imagine I should look like?" There was a temptation inside of his body, an urge to reached forward to touch her lips. They were, in Matthias mind, beautiful. "Naughty girl. I cannot expose my secrets, but you are certainly an open book. Go on, what absurd words have you told another?" He stepped back then, pressing his hands behind his back. What was he thinking, he dared not ruin her. She was far too innocent.

Or perhaps she was not as innocent as she appeared. Matthias circled her body so that he was now standing behind her, he inched forward and lowered his head to whisper into her ear. "Danger comes in many forms." He was tempted to brush his lips against her skin, but knew best to keep himself slightly at a distance. "Test me all you like, but I would be your ruin." He added on before stepping away. "What would your mother and father think should you come home a different woman?"

Matthias kept himself still, eyes drawing to their intertwined hands. He lifted his arm up, tilting it slightly so that her palm was exposed. Bring his head forward, Matthias pressed a careful kiss against the skin all the while his eyes kept locked with her. "You could escape with me, to another world. One which you could have the control, where no one would starve."

Matthias examined the swans, trying to understand how he would gain their trust. He did not think that a simple creature would find comfort in eating from his hands. He figured that animals, similar to horses, gaged trust off personality. They understood emotions, auras and Matthias knew his was dark. "Is that all?" He questioned, watching as the swan moved through the water. "You only base your ideals of me off one conversation. You do not know who I am, not truly. Where I come from, what I have done. There is plenty that would scare you, plenty that would make you run away." There was little goodness in his heart, not the way he was raised. He was a killer. A tyrant. A prince who watched as worlds crumbled at the hands of his father. "Because you are pure, you are a ray of sunshine when the world is darkness. I would only burn out your light, hold you back when you deserve a world filled only of happiness." He paused, turning away. "We are not children, but adults. I certainly am not an easy man nor is my family."

Matthias dropped his body towards the grass, little the dew coat his jacket. "Another idea? Why, little dove, you are full of thoughts tonight." He turned his head, seeing her lips turn to a smile. He knew he could not argue -- he would do whatever she desired, so long as it made her keep smiling. "Now you are leading a dangerous life," he murmured, his tongue wetting the bottom of his lips. "Just you and me? Hm. Very unladylike. Are you sure? You would not want to be thought of as compromised." But Matthias was already on his feet, hand reaching out to help her up. "So tell me, are you trying to prove a point tonight? Not to me, but to another? That you are not this simple creature?" He pressed his hand gently against her lower back, his body closing the smallest bit of space between them. "You are playing close to a dangerous line now, to tease me as so." Matthias released his touch, moving back and towards the castle. Without another word, he took off into a run.

A powerful wave of protectiveness washed over her, flooding her senses with the longing to shield him from life's inevitable hardships. She yearned to hide him from a world that had already dealt him too much cruelty, longing to create a sanctuary where he could finally feel safe.. A place to inhabit where games were enjoyable and not necessary for survival. “Anissa felt the urge to reach out and hug the man in front of her. “The world has been merciless to you. You’ve endured more than anyone should. But if this life is a game of kings and pawns, then understand this—I am no opponent to you. I would gladly topple my own pieces before I ever sought your defeat.” Not that she would need to; he would have already won. Anissa did her best to suppress the prideful smirk growing as he admitted he didn't have a good reason for not leaving yet. “My parents warned me,” she murmured, her voice low and intimate, “but curiosity drives me forward. Perhaps they feared I would find beauty in the very thing meant to destroy me—or worse, that I would savour the taste of forbidden danger they tried to shield me from.” She let her gaze linger on him, leaning just slightly closer, enough to tempt, not surrender. “I might tempt fate… I might even run, but only to see how far you would go to catch me.”

Uncertainty clouded her thoughts as she struggled to find the right words. It felt as if every time she dared to hope for kindness from him, he swiftly told her that her expectations were misguided. This constant push and pull left her feeling bewildered, lost in a maze of conflicting emotions that seemed impossible to navigate. “Most men here, at least, seem to care only about expanding borders or gaining power, often at the expense of others. But you…you caught me off guard, in the best possible way,” she said softly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. She twisted the ring on her finger nervously, glancing away for just a moment before meeting his eyes again.” Honestly,  it only makes me want to know you more.” Her gaze flickered for the briefest moment, a subtle lift of her brow betraying her surprise at the word prince. “Expectations bind you, yet you still think beyond them. That shows more courage than most would ever admit. I know, it’s not easy when people assume that a title alone grants power. I’ve felt it myself—being a princess only opens ears in the hope that someone will listen to your ideas, nothing more. Though I’m sure you’ve done a great deal more than you’ve given yourself credit for.”

Anissa couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips. He had struck a nerve, yet she hadn’t expected the comment to land so pointedly—or his laughter to follow it. She was still annoyed, but refused to let a minor remark ruin her night, especially when she was still intrigued by the man before her. She studied him carefully, eyes tracing every subtle movement as she measured her words. “Did I ever ask you to show me more kindness? Absolutely not.” She let the words settle, correcting the notion. She hadn’t wished for him to bend himself for her; she had hoped he might allow himself small moments of joy, if only for his own sake. “I would not demand that you be someone you’re not. I’ve endured your sharp words, yet I’ve tried to remain kind. And I’m still here, aren’t I? One cut is not enough to send me running.” She knew his game—pushing to see when she would break, when she would walk away. She let a slow smile curve her lips and asked, “Have you always had this way of seeing how far someone will bend under your words? Am I holding up, or have I already failed your experiment?”  At his question, she simply shrugged. “They might not all say it aloud, but they reward silence as if it were obedience. They don’t want to be challenged—not by a woman. I understand why, after all, they have male peers to discuss and debate worldly matters with. Most expect a wife to listen, not to think.” She paused, tilting her head slightly, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “But you… you seem different from them. I imagine you must keep your betrothed very… satisfied with your attention.”

Anissa enjoyed engaging in stimulating conversation, yet she knew there were limits to how far she could push. Trapped by the unwritten rules of her world, she had learned to bend them to her advantage. She tapped her chin thoughtfully, letting her fingers linger a moment longer than necessary, and circled him slowly, her gaze drinking in every detail. “Your broad shoulders, confident stance and the way you command attention without even trying make me think you’re used to being noticed,” she murmured, tilting her head, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I’d imagine a strong jawline, perfectly sculpted—a face like some marble statue. Lips that don’t give away promises lightly. And those arms—capable, solid, carrying a strength that’s difficult to ignore. Her eyes drifted to his, lingering too long, letting her breath catch subtly. Her eyes drifted to his, lingering just a heartbeat too long, letting her breath catch subtly. “And your eyes,” she murmured, tilting her head again, her smile softening. “Breathtaking. I’d imagine the rest of you is equally impressive. If my assumptions are anywhere near correct, well, I might be in far more trouble than I intended." A flicker of confusion crossed her mind as she noticed him take a step back, a distance she hadn’t anticipated. She lingered for a moment, her heart beating a little faster, before cautiously stepping closer again. One hand lifted, her fingertips softly tracing the fabric beneath his collar. It was a subtle touch yet enough to feel the heat radiating from him. She leaned in further, her voice softening to something, almost sinful in its intimacy. "The most absurd words are the ones that linger unspoken… things I’ve never dared to voice before. Words I would quite like to say to you." With a flutter of courage, she edged closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But, you might be right. Maybe I’ve been too much of an open book. I might need to make you work before I willingly give up those pages.”  With a playful smirk, she pulled back, returning to the distance he had set earlier, yet the thrill of the moment danced in the air between them. This was unlike her—she’d never known herself to flirt so boldly or to feel such undeniable temptation. She hadn't even seen his face, but was ready to risk her impeccable reputation just to feed the burn within her. 

She eyed him as if watching a predator circle his prey, welcoming the hunt. She didn’t move at first, nor did she even breathe, as his voice curled around her ear like smoke. Her eyes fluttered shut for half a second at the nearness. When she felt his breath against her skin, she felt a shiver run down her spine. By nature, she tipped her head, exposing her neck to the wolf, hoping secretly he would sink his teeth in. She let out a soft gasp at his words, knowing he was right. He would be her ruin, wondering if he already had been. “Ruin me then,” she whispered, turning her head just enough so they were closer than they had ever been before. “But don't expect to walk away unmarked.”  When he stepped away, she almost dared to pull him back in.  “I may not be dangerous, but I doubt you're ready for just how fiercely you'll want to keep the mess you made—the thought of anyone else's hands trying to mend what is broken will be maddening.”

Anissa’s breath hitched at the brush of his lips against her skin, wishing she could feel them pressed against hers. "I envision in this vibrant other world you reign without limitations from kin, where playful teasing and tender touches would carry no risk. Escape with you it sounds irresistible,” she whispered. “But, I’d follow you anywhere, even a more grueling world than this, if it meant I could stay close to you. Even in shadows, it would feel perfect if we were together.”

They sat close together on the soft grass, the earth cool beneath them, but the heat between their bodies undeniable. “Unladylike indeed. I suppose rumours of being compromised are only terrible if they are true. If nothing happens…” she murmured, voice low and dripping with promise, “then I suppose I’ll sleep soundly tonight. No guilt. No secrets. No shame.” Her hand moved with purpose, cupping the side of his neck, her thumb brushing softly over his jaw. “But tell me, would that disappoint you?” Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper, eyes moving to his lips. “Were you hoping to leave a mark? To give me something to  lie awake about?” She pulled back slowly, eyes gleaming with mischief and invitation. It might have been a grave mistake to embrace such sinful desires, yet the flames of passion had been ignited within her, roaring uncontrollably. How could she put out a fire that had already engulfed her? As they stood up, she hadn't expected for him to pull her close. She had never known the weight of a body pressed so close—his heat spilling over her like the slow burn of a candle’s flame, tender yet insistent. The touch was a whisper against her skin, awakening every nerve in her

In such a daze, she couldn’t even find her words—speechless, caught in the hush that had fallen between them. Her breath was shallow, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm she barely understood. Then, as he slowly moved away, the sudden absence of his warmth left a hollow ache where fire had just been. She watched him dart toward the castle, his retreat swift but deliberate—a silent promise of the chase to come. He knew this game well—the cat and mouse dance they both craved, each eager to win yet unwilling to surrender too soon. And though she was left standing alone, the thrill of their unspoken challenge surged through her, a hunger that only grew sharper in his absence. She grabbed a handful of fabric from her dress, holding it higher than a lady should as she darted towards the castle after him. Her heart raced, matching the rhythm of her footsteps on the cobblestone path, each stride fueled by determination to catch up before he vanished into the shadows of the towering structure. She watched him carelessly throw his mask on the ground, which ignited her desire to catch up with him even more. His features were blurred in the distance, too far to recognize, but she knew exactly where he was headed. “How did you know this was where I wanted to bring you?” she laughed, a playful challenge in her voice. “Did you steal my idea?” she teased, genuinely astonished that he could guess her thoughts or that their paths led to the same spot. or perhaps their bodies were simply drawn to the same place, the same rhythm, without needing words.

But as she drew nearer, her steps faltered, as though the ground itself conspired to hold her back.  She froze, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum heralding an impending storm. A quiet gasp escaped her lips, eyes widening as she looked at him. Truly looked. The ache in her chest grew unbearable, her heart twisting so tightly it felt as though it might tear itself apart. She had been so close to surrendering the idea of love to the mundane, so close to convincing herself that the safety in compromise would be enough. That quiet, half-life might be kinder than hope. Yet he had come in like a storm, unexpected and all-consuming, and made her believe in something more again.  He had awakened something she had buried, something fierce and untamed, something she had never dared to think she could be. And now, with it alive inside her, she feared she could never return to what she was before.

Why did he have to be a Westergaard?

Her chest ached at the thought, the name alone sinking like a blade into everything she felt. It twisted what could have been simple into something cruel, something doomed. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not with him. And yet he had kindled a fire inside her, one that would not fade, no matter how she willed it. It had burrowed too deep, taken hold too fiercely. And gods, how she wanted the burn, even knowing it would scar her in the end. Her hands rose to her temples, desperate to silence her mother’s voice, stern and warning, echoing all the reasons she should turn away. Even his own voice, earlier, had tried to spare her. Everything she had been taught told her to run. But she didn’t feel afraid—not with him. She never had. And that was the most dangerous truth of all. “Matthias,” she whispered, his name trembling on her lips as though it might break her to say it. With unsteady fingers, she lifted her mask away, letting it fall, exposing everything she was, everything she feared. Panic set in as she feared he would leave once he discovered her true identity. Instinct overpowered reason; her hand reached for his, clinging to him with a fragile, desperate strength, as though begging for him to stay near. “Please, don’t leave. Not tonight.” Her gaze lifted, raw and pleading, voice breaking softer still. “Not after what we’ve started.” It was an admission. A confession of something neither of them had dared to say aloud. Whatever had happened between them—it had already taken root. And her fingers didn’t loosen.

“How did you know I wanted to bring you to the library?” she teased, laughing as they reached the quiet hall near the library doors. “Did you steal my plan?” As she approached, her steps faltered, as if the ground held her back. He had taken off his mask, and even in the dimly lit hall, she knew exactly who he was. The sight of his bare face hit her like a blow, stealing the air from her lungs “Matthias…” Her voice cracked around his name. Her heart twisted with an unbearable ache. She couldn't ignore the fiery emotions stirring inside her tonight, even though it defied everything she was taught to believe. "No...” she managed to push out in a tone no louder than a whisper. “This was never supposed to happen…not like this.” Her fingers trembled as she lifted her own mask, letting it fall. Vulnerable. Exposed. “If either of our families caught us like this —laughing in the shadows, getting along, being alone together, they would be furious.” Every instinct within her screamed for her to step back, yet somehow, she found herself stepping closer. “But that doesn't need to change anything, right? Just for tonight, can’t we pretend that those masks are still on, that none of that matters?”

"ask strangers bout stories they want to share, then write about your experience. Its for a Sociology class" Danny lied easily to the man. "There are some people here that claim you're crazy. So of course I want to hear a story....if it brings people to think you're crazy"

He let out a soft, amused chuckle, tilting his head as he studied her. “Ah, a shadow that talks. How… inconvenient.” Anthonius' gaze lingered on her, filled with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Learning?” he echoed, lips curling. “My dear, you’re so far down the succession line I’m shocked anyone bothered to teach you anything at all. What could you possibly need to learn that isn’t already handled by the siblings ahead of you?” He inched closer, an edge of danger in the air, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Unless, of course, you intend to shorten that line.” His smirk sharpened.