exfortunas

[exfortunas]

saw someone accuse me of lying for attention which I RESENT. I lie because it's fun and, crucially, very very easy

[exfortunas]

closed. @celcstine.

long-awaited was the opportunity, to speak to crown princess directly -- to gaze into icy blues and wonder, if they could hold any warmth at all. the eissen's reign of iron fist and flint heart had stretched far too long, but seemingly not long enough for their likes to recognise what little merit it had brought ilthoria. grousing nobles, public attacks, rash executions, usurpers inching forth from their shadows -- yes, with rebellion on the horizon, nothing quite thrilled her as much as catching a glimpse into the inner workings of the woman who was to rule over such consummate chaos.

"your highness. what an honour." ariadne dipped into a curtsy -- low, poised, perfected to the hilt. what little restraint her tongue knew, she knew to display in superficial decorum. as far as ceago was concerned, she had not been reared so far from throne, herself. "i can't help but wonder, given your northern heritage. did the king's verdict take you by surprise?"

[exfortunas]

in truth, he'd paid little to no mind to whether his sisters had been burdened with such frivolous tasks, in their youth -- but he doubted it. house fairvale did not pride itself on its fierce legacy of warriors, for naught. cedric had lingered in lydia's shadow when they first journeyed to geimreadh, to train under house bailgrave, and he'd never thought much of it at all. if anything, it proved a welcome challenge. to be bested by his sister, to learn from her, with her, had been a privilege. when the lady displayed her afternoon's work, a dainty blue snowflake, cedric assessed it with with a breathy chuckle. not unkind, but bemused. "very endearing." the taunt came in response to her expressed chagrin. "you seem perfectly capable of making your own decisions, my lady. why trouble yourself with what others would think?"

「  ✱  」  STATUS  ﹕  open  . 

「  ✱  」  LOCATION  ﹕  the palace grounds .

「  ✱  」  WITH  ﹕ anyone ( cap : 3 )

it  was  best  for  eurydice  to  stay  out  of  politics.  she  had  never  fully  understood  it,  and  despite  how  many  times  her  mother  had  tried  to  explain  the  alliances,  the  houses,  why  certain  people  walked  past  others  in  hallways  without  so  much  as  nodding  their  head,  she  was  still  unsure.  the  malgraves  had  more  important  things  to  be  concerned  about.  once  a  girl  had  existed  in  nature,  had  chewed  on  twigs  and  relied  on  the  warm  bodies  of  wolves  and  wild  things,  crowns  and  livery  seemed  almost  ridiculous  in  comparison.  what  use  were  riches  when  strong  winters  came  to  steal  away  the  weak ?  she  had  found  a  solitary  place  on  the  grounds,  sitting  on  her  knees  and  focusing  on  her  sewing  —  a  little  snowflake  in  ice  blue  thread.  “i  was  never  very  good  at  these  things.  womanly  things,”  eurydice  raised  her  pattern  to  the  other,  “who  makes  those  decisions  —  that  running,  fighting,  skinning  animals  for  food  isn’t  ladylike ? ”

[exfortunas]

she held little love for the training grounds of belveil palace. the lady devara cared for no show of brawn, felt no need to prove talents honed since girlhood. intricate dagger (a present of a former lover long-gone -- yet the memory sweet, ever-lingering in form of such an exquisite blade) strapped to her thigh where she ventured, she would not place protection in the sole hands of ardoran guards. nevertheless, the sight of sweat-soaked prince was bound to pique interest. as he wandered to the cool of the open window, violets trailed to the sword discarded -- and she coiled palm around hilt, assessing its weight in her hand. too heavy for her to wield well, but the glint of steel intrigued, regardless. "implore his father to dismiss his subjects, would be a start." the words poured forth, tone much sweeter than their intent. "few remain by choice as necks dwindle in count, your highness."

alcove overseeing the training grounds — open

He was covered in sweat, the white undershirt stuck to his body like a second skin on his back. he drops the sword on the floor without a care as he unbuttons the shirt walking to the open window. it had come to that, when he had a sword in his hand was the only time someone did not want something from him. when sweat dripped down his brow no one had questions or looked for his favor. he liked those moments when he could turn his brain off and simply exist. but they were fleeting with the many nobles still plaguing his ancestral home. the steps of another make him throw his head back and roll his eyes. "what does a prince have to do to get some peace around here?" he doesn't even bother looking back, he turns to his side to pour himself a goblet of wine instead.

[exfortunas]

she watched him with quiet intent, for a long while -- let the words sit, marinate, raise faint smile to lips. yes, the poet of vithel did truly know to bend words to his will. "you may rest assured, lord sevford. i only kill with reason." an airy laugh settled between them, her posture changing with it, to something more relaxed, more... herself. ariadne prodded and goaded, for the sheer thrill of it, to fill time with more excitement than life in these walls cared to offer. the more time she spent with robb, the more layers she chose to shed -- leaving yet but a version of self, but closer to raw, unvarnished sereen, than most were privy to.

"everything is short-lived. life is ephemeral. we might as well enjoy it, while we can." she may not share his sentiments, but she would respect them. perhaps it was control he sought to maintain -- rigidly so, it would appear. to her, there was perfect control in choosing when to discard composure, and when to effortlessly resume it. "what sort of thrills do you seek in life? what stimulates you, that transcends enjoyable, yet fleeting moments?" however he might seek to interpret her question, it was of a genuine sort.

she let him speak, reminisce, even as smile she'd grown fond of faded with the memory. only when he'd poured wine, and truth with it, did ariadne answer. "so she is the reason you have decided to no longer be a man of temporary thrills." violets flickered with something softer, far more tangible, than previously displayed. compassion. "i'm sorry, for your loss." following suit, the lady devara filled a cup for herself, drinking with deliberate slowness.

"you very much exist, you did before her, as you do now." she found his gaze again. "i don't believe in that sort of notion -- needing another, to be complete. i never have. i would never wish to relinquish such power to another. only i complete myself. only i can obliterate myself. it will never be any other way." to her, the belief carried no tragedy whatsoever. it was simple fact.

WORDS  WERE  NEVER  AS  DIFFICULT,  AS  THEY  WERE  IN  THE  PRESENCE  OF  A  DEVARA.  With  Ariadne,  every  word  painted  a  deeper  meaning.  Every  gesture  was  intentional,  every  type  of  tone  filled  with  implication.  At  times  he  could  read  her  well,  at  times  not  at  all. And  although  Robb  was  not  a  man  of  excitement,  or  thrill,  he  could  not  deny  that  he  found  her  presence,  her  mind;  intoxicating.  "You  are  unpredictable,  intelligent...beautiful.  It  is  frightening  to  be  in  the  presence  of  a  woman  who  could  kill  a  man  gently,  without  reason,  and  have  him  be  grateful  for  the  opportunity  to  die  at  her  hand." He  smiled,  cheeks  flushing  red  at  the  quick  and  passing  comment  that  made  him  feel  somewhat  elated.  "As  tempting  as  that  may  be,  I  fear  the  joy  of  losing  composure  is  short-lived.  And  I  am  not  a  man  of  temporary  thrills."  perhaps  he'd  grown  to  fear  joy,  over  time.  The  only  thing  worse  than  living  in  misery,  was  finding  something  worth  living  for  --  and  losing  it.  Fleeting  was  the  nature  of  all  things,  and  Robb  did  not  like  losing  control,  he  did  not  like  losing. Just  as  that  thought  passed  his  mind,  her  question  brought  forth  the  biggest  loss  of  all.  And  a  smile  that  had  been  on,  eased,  erased.  "It  was  a  love  match,  for  the  two  of  us.  Suppose  we  were  lucky,  in  a  way,  that  it  came  with  a  political  advantage  as  well.  Made  it  easier  for  our  families  to  come  to  terms  with  it  all  --  as  fleeting  as  it  was."  he  paused,  then  reached  for  an  empty  cup  to  fill  it  with  red  Eastern  wine.  "Sometimes  I  think  all  the  luck  I've  had  in  life  was  poured  into  her,  into  the  little  time  we  had.  I  did  not  exist  before  her,  not  really  --  I  find  I  am  only  half  real  now,  never  truly...here."

[exfortunas]

"built like a castle? that's a first." with a coarse chuckle and a snap of his head, he withdrew a step. formidable frame, indeed, towering -- but the warmth blues exuded was unmistakable. as much as he wished for his stay in ardora to come to a swift end, ideally with each of his siblings very much intact, there were some glimpses into his past that did not haunt, but sweeten. "has anyone ever told you you have a way with words, lady ryu?" amusement did not lessen as he gestured for her to fall into step beside him. "that's because i had no true intentions of harming you, as you should well know. i also know which end of that well-concealed dagger of yours i wish to avoid." he had taught her well -- well enough to know never to underestimate her. "i couldn't tell you. i haven't caused a day of chaos in my life." he spoke with an air of levity, all too inappropriate for what he would say next. "seems to get you decapitated around here."

sloppy , indeed. but , it had been sloppy of him. she may have been surprised , but he was fortunate she did not make it a habit of carrying her sword with her wherever she went ( she did have a dagger , concealed , strapped at her thigh - which she would have unsheathed had she not been well acquainted with the sound of his voice & his presence ). letting out an amused chuckle , aera turned to face cedric with an arched eyebrow.

" oh , you taught me well , don't worry. but , you're also built like a castle , & here you are attempting to fit in a bear's cave. the tips of your boots poking out had given your position away , old friend. " she snickered , swatting his hands away.

" it's been a while. what unimaginable chaos have you been up to all this time ? "

[exfortunas]

Sylvia Plath, from “The Rival.”

[exfortunas]

"Crooked, previously-broken nose" is such a hot trait to give your characters. Im begging you to fuck up your characters' noses

[exfortunas]

"so you're proposing i wed a powerful fool and bring about his demise the moment he dozes off from the sleeping draught i preemptively poured into his wine, should he get any ideas during the wedding feast." as far as plans went to end an unwanted marriage, it wasn't half-bad -- and she knew, to her reassurance, that if need arose for a husband of hers to be disposed of, the poison required would come from none other than nya's crafty hand. nonetheless, ariadne did not broker her liberties so easily. "that sounds miserable." a sigh unravelled, expression softening only for the fingers that swept aside errant wisps of hair. "must the price for our ambition always be abject misery?"

a crooked smile tugged at lips at the card was pulled forth. she reached for it, to run index finger along its edges. "sounds as if you can tell me a lot more about lord urswick than i can relay to you." ariadne hummed, momentarily quiet, drifting into contemplation. "you know my sentiments on the council. a house of amberhigh was found guilty -- to steer attention from another house, perhaps, with closer ties to the crown? as they foster ambitions of their own." violets found her cousin's gaze, intent. "no less than two urswicks sit the council."

she admired each calculated step of nya's, truly -- but she could not help but think, whilst they resided amid traitors and would-be-traitors, that she was not for the shadows. to be bathed in eternal light, as atesia had fashioned her -- ariadne could not exist between brick and word-of-mouth, everywhere at once, yet nowhere at all. she may not have been born to rule, but she sought more than life had offered thus far. "wine in abundance and executions to stir the blood further will have that effect."

"what make you of geimreadh?" lashes fluttered upward, curious. "they seem to hold as much love for the crown as we do, albeit far less passion in their disdain and, well... every other aspect of life. i can't think what kept you there for so long." even so, she respected the sullen lot. "the crown princess can do little to mend centuries of distrust. usurping is a too grand an endeavour for their likes -- seeking independence seems more their strategy." was it her father's, also? she did wonder, just how far the scope of devara ambition stretched.

upon her confession, ariadne responded with belly-deep laughter, gratifying. "give him stomachaches, as i cause him further discomforts by simply acting in a sisterly fashion. but do keep your finest poisons for worthier causes, for they are sure to come."

SHE  CONSIDERED  HER  WORDS  FOR  A  MOMENT.  A  lot  to  unpack  on  the  marriage  front,  but  not  a  lot  left  that  the  two  of  them  had  yet  to  discuss.  Years  have  left  them  quite  aware  of  each  others  thoughts  on  the  matter.  One  ran,  the  other  dodged.  "Husbands  die.  Their  names  --  and  their  wealth  --  live  on.  There's  comfort  in  that."  a  smile  tugged  at  her  lip,  implying  humour.  Nya  was  all  too  aware  that  killing  off  ones  spouse  was  easier  said  than  done.  But  every  joke  carried  some  truth  too  --  and  she'd  be  a  liar  to  say  she  did  not  have  an  elaborate  set  of  plans  to  do  just  that;  should  the  need  arise.  "Plenty  of  ways  to  stir  things  our  way  though,  sweet  cousin,  we  just  have  to  uh...get  creative."  she  reached  out,  tucking  away  a  strand  of  hair  that  lay  loose  over  Ariadne's  cheek.  And  from  behind  her  ear,  she  pulled  out  a  card. A joker. "No  rules."  having  made  that  abundantly  clear,  eyes  flicked  up  at  the  other  and  she  wondered.  "Lord  master  of  coin  and  I  used  to  travel  together,  did  you  know?"  smile  crept  on,  a  memory  clear  as  eastern  waters.  "Ah,  yes,  he  used  to  be  quite  fun.  Long  long  ago.  Perhaps  there's  a  way  to  get  through  to  him  yet  --"  she  took  Ari's  hands  into  her  own,  restless  and  fidgety.  "What  can  you  tell  me  lord  Urswick?" Head  tilted  at  the  question.  "My  net  transcends  borders,  my  love.  It  is  my  primary  source  of  income,  as  well  as,  my  primary  expense.  The  information  here  does  not  come  cheap  --  I  will  say  that  much.  But  there  is  no  place  where  lips  are  quite  as  loose,  either."  she  took  all  the  information,  no  matter  how  reliable,  with  a  grain  of  salt.  Then  sold  it  elsewhere  if  it  was  of  no  importance  to  her  directly.  Either  way,  she  had  fun  with  it.  She  enjoyed  knowing  things,  hearing  things,  no  matter  how  absurd  or  unlikely. A  sweet  chuckle  and  she  let  a  shrug  roll  over  her  shoulders  like  a  wave.  "I  have  poisoned  Sars  before.  Several  times."  a  secret  she  never  once  shared.  "Nothing  serious,  of  course,  nothing  --  deadly."  a  laugh  left  her  lips  and  she  observed  the  other  carefully,  gauging  her  reaction.  Back  home,  she  had  a  whole  greenhouse  to  play  in,  to  extract  precious  liquids,  mix  them  together,  test  them.  She  missed  it  --  she  missed  home. When  Ariadne,  at  last,  mentioned  a  certain  prince;  Nya's  brows  rose  in  surprise,  and  eyes  widened.  Though  she  kept  a  keen  eye  out  for  all  her  cousins,  they  still  managed  to  hold  very  many  secrets  of  their  own.  Such  was  the  Devara  way;  never  to  be  truly  known,  always  with  an  ace  up  their  sleeve.  "Now  that  is  a  connection  too  grand  not  to  utilise.  What  stops  you,  from  crossing  the  threshold?"

[exfortunas]

"a frightening woman? what is it that frightens you about me, exactly?" there was the most striking ability to walk through fire, unburnt -- though vithel had been blessed by a deity of noteworthy might, so atesia should hardly strike fear into the man's chest. entertaining as it was, when her gifts had such an effect on others. "i would have known truth from lie, either way." a smirk curled lips, wondering, if he knew just how easy it was to twist all he said into phrases for her own wicked amusement. "you may find that losing composure can bring us both immense amounts of joy." a valiant effort of his, to hold her gaze unapologetically, but she could hardly deny that he had a way of words himself. that he cared for her happiness, she did not even need to doubt -- he had no motive to lie, or wish her ill. "there are very few who could make me believe as much, as effortlessly as you manage to do."

the apology was accepted, and just as easily glossed over with a chortle. "my day was of little significance, and i presume the same can be said of yours, seeing as as our plight is shared." their plight being that they had yet to receive permission to leave the palace. the sereen stood from her chair, only to drag it closer to the lord, settling once more with an inquisitive glint. "you were married, once." people liked to talk, information easy to procure. still, there were questions left unanswered that intrigued her. "was it a match of your choosing? or political gain?"

HE  SMILED,  POLITELY,  AT  HER  WORDS.  "You  may  be  a  frightening  woman,  at  times,  lady  Devara.  But  I  do  not  believe  you  so  petrifying  that  I  should  approach  with  a  lie."  a  simple  truth.  Granted,  Robb  believed  he'd  established  enough  rapport  with  the  other  for  her  to  assume  his  tardiness  would  come  with  an  understandable  explanation.  So  he  decided  to  take  her  words  as  nothing  more  than  gentle  probing. "Then  I  ought  to  let  myself  lose  composure.  Solely  for  the  sake  of  your  joy."  his  eyes  remained  on  her  as  he  spoke,  though  his  hands  did  take  on  a  vine  of  white  grapes,  and  he  broke  off  a  piece.  "For  I  do  so  enjoy  seeing  you  happy." A  grape  in  his  mouth,  expression  calculating  and  relaxed,  he  gave  into  whatever  fun  she  was  having.  "Is  that  right?  Well,  then..."  he  leaned  in,  elbows  on  his  knees.  "--I  do  beg  your  pardon,  Ariadne."  memories  of  his  short  time  in  Ceago  came  forward,  just  then.  A  warm  night,  dim  lights,  smell  of  bakhoor.  The  nights  were  calm  then,  just  as  they  were  now  --  but  the  air  was  lighter,  easier  to  breathe.  "Tell  me  of  your  day...I  should  like  to  hear  of  it." 

[exfortunas]

much of her awe remained under a surface of cool -- lingering in the space they shared, as achara spoke of her children, of her heart that she wore for the world to see. ariadne had always quietly marveled at how the heart of each devoted parent seemed to know no limits, when it came to just how many children it could cherish. her father's knew no such restriction -- and had her mother lived to raise her and more after her, she imagined she would have felt no differently. "better sharp, than dull. we know not what world they will find themselves in, when they are to navigate the courts of ilthoria on their own." a bitter truth, that tugged at her even when she had no children as of yet to leave behind. "we can only hope it will be a better world than the one we are in now."

"my family has a penchant for raising pocket knives for children. we are tough, tight-knit, and we know to protect ourselves as we protect each other. that should hopefully give you and your husband some peace of mind, once your little ones start to leave the nest -- knowing they will always have each other." she mused on their return to the stables -- where merriment would find its end once horses were returned, and proceedings of the day were soon to catch up with them.

"i will give it my best when i do meet them, regardless. i've grown quite good with names over the past weeks, even those i'd rather forget." the offer she accepted with a warm smile. "afternoon tea, it is. and fret not, i've made quite the home for myself in chaos."

If it was up to her her children would never get older, they would remain ignorant to the treacherous courts and its nobles, to the beginnings of rebellion and war. but overall to how quickly a friend could become and enemy. she hoped that when time did come, when they grew up into adults and wisdom colored her hair grey, that the lands would be more at peace. that perhaps a different family would held the crown, someone with far more benevolence but over all faith and the favor of enerin and the deities. "too sharp for their own good, and my own, believe me," she says it, but there is a glimpse of amusement as she pictures each one of them and their little personalities, such strong ones at that too.

"there's too many of them, i do not expect anyone to truly remember them all when they have only seen them once, or heard of them by word of mouth," in fact, in good mother fashions, sometimes she called the wrong name, as her mother had done to herself and her siblings. frustrating at the time, but funny when thought about it after. achara nods, agreeing wholeheartedly with the others words. "yes, it is when we should hold our love ones the closes to us, i do agree." if she could she would hold them and never let them go, to their dismay. "you are more than welcome to join us for any meal, or afternoon tea, although prepare for the outmost chaos."

[exfortunas]

closed. @shadescfbones.

he wasn't playing fair -- but very few instances in life were marked by such, so the sooner one learned to be poised at all times, the better. he'd taken to observing her routine, over the span of the past few days, ennui that had driven him to such measures. or perhaps, he simply missed a hearty laugh (his own, or the sound of hers. it would all soothe what fears ruminated tirelessly, as the days strung into weeks). with knowledge of where aera's chambers were located, and where she was likely headed that particular afternoon, cedric rounded a corner when she could not have expected it. no blade drawn -- only the brawn of arms to corner his target with a gravelly chuckle. "sloppy. i thought i taught you better than that."

[exfortunas]

"i saw more low-neck dresses in my time in ceago than i could feasibly count, most of which left very little to the imagination." gaze did follow the trajectory of fingers, for a moment. he was not so timid that he would not partake in her little game at all -- timidness only made for easy prey. however, blues drifted elsewhere soon after, unbothered, smile polite enough to be believable. "i fear that trick of yours is rather stale." if he dared to be more sly-tongued in a devara's presence, he would have ventured to say that perhaps, her neckline had simply not plunged low enough to draw interest. as it were, cedric knew which boundaries were to be maintained -- he had caused another enough grief, as was. "uncompromisingly forthright, as ever." a snap of his head as he breathed incredulous laughter. did he care to play with fire again? a burnt child... had cedric truly learned from mistakes, he would have hardly taken his chances in a court where old flame dwelled, singing with each averted glance. "duty brings me to court. surely that's why we're all gathered here, as subjects of king and ilthoria." ties of loyalty stretched across vithel, geimreadh, ceago -- little love held for the crown, after recent years that had shaped him. but he would say whatever kept his head firmly attached, and his skin unmarred.

EYES  ROLLED  AT  HIS  COMMENT,  AMUSED.  "I've  been  told  to  wear  a  low-neck  dress.  Many  tend  to  find  an  overexposed  bosom  distracting  enough  to  overlook  my  pathetic  attempts  at  a  curtsy.  What  say  you,  my  lord?  Is  this  neckline  low  enough?  Or  are  you  immune  to  such...distractions?"  fingers  traced  beneath  her  collar  bone,  drawing  attention  only  too  see  if  she  might  succeed.  Playing  with  people  was  fun,  though  she  found  that  it  was  easier  to  do  so  with  those  who'd  grown  up  more  loose.  Cedric  had  spent  just  enough  time  in  Ceago  to  be  aware  her  attitude  was  merely  a  play,  nothing  more.  So  she  let  herself  be  more  free,  on  a  presumption.  "And  what  brings  you  to  court?  Obligation?  Curiosity?  A  certain  possibility  of  running  into  an  old  flame?  Or  have  you  given  it  up  entirely;  playing  with  fire?"

[exfortunas]

he had found himself in the tranquil walls of the royal library a handful of times, since arrival. while the training grounds were more his preference, sweat and blood to cast their age-old spell over a weary mind and bring about slumber by simple means of exhausting himself to the hilt, quietude was... nice. no clang of steel, no adrenaline ringing in his ears, only an abundance of knowledge, and a reminder of how very insignificant they all were, in the grand scheme of life.

robb's presence was to be expected -- cedric wagered if he were to make himself at home anywhere within the gilded halls of ardora, the library would be his first choice. "to do what, help you stare at empty parchment? or is there more than meets the eye?" a glance to blank parchment, disappointment flickering in curious blues that would've skimmed words, for the mere sake of it. cedric did not trade secrets, but he did have a reputation to uphold, as an irksome friend. taking his seat as offered, features split into a grin, rarest of sights as of late. "any thoughts rattling about in that big old head of yours at all?"

open to all. late evening. library.

THE  CANDLELIGHT  DANCED  ACROSS  THE  EMPTY  PIECE  OF  PARCHMENT.  Robb  could  not  look  away  from  the  hypnotic  movement;  relaxing,  otherworldly.  His  mind  felt  free  of  thought.  Free  of  anything  substantial.  But  the  storm  which  awakened  with  his  sisters  misfortune,  still  brewed  deep  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach,  and  the  sense  of  unease  grew  more  prominent,  and  he  knew  not  what  to  do. So  he  tried  to  read,  and  when  that  failed,  he  tried  to  write,  and  now...he�� just  sat  there,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  dancing  candle,  neither  here  nor  there. The  steps  registered,  deep  in  his  subconscious,  but  he  had  not  looked  up,  nor  truly  noticed  another  person  get  close.  And  once  they  did,  he  did  not  startle.  Slow  and  steady,  his  eyes  found  them  and  he  put  the  quill  down  over  the  empty  parchment.  A  quick  gesture  offered  the  chair  beside  him  as  he  spoke.  "Please,  I  could  do  with  some  company."

[exfortunas]

#when men are about to say something potentially stupid and/or infuriating to you

[exfortunas]

she really did quite like the lord sevford. he struck her as sensible, grounded, rare qualities to come by in men. even her jabs, he took with grace, seemed to draw enjoyment from them. it heightened her own, and perhaps for that reason alone, ariadne didn't mind the idea of having supper with him. "then you should have said as much, the moment you entered. now, i'm inclined to think your explanation but a convenient excuse." another grape plucked from stem found its way to her lips -- ever-observant, as her target navigated the room. he was an keen observer himself, for which she gave him credit. too many were far too concerned with themselves, to pay mind to those around them.

reclining in her chair, a slight, absent-minded sway to crossed legs, his remark prompted a grin. pearly-white, self-satisfied -- so he did know how to play her game. "i have yet to see you squirm, but i wager i'd quite enjoy it, yes." a shrug followed upon the question. she polished off grapes first, a cursory glance to the rest of her plate -- which she'd finish, eventually, at her leisure. "begging can't hurt."

"FAMILY  ALWAYS  TAKES  PRECEDENCE,  LADY  DEVARA."  he  smiled,  cutting  through  the  confusing  amount  of  tension  that  filled  the  air.  Part  of  him  was  all  but  certain  she'd  forgotten  their  arraignment  altogether.  Something  else  was  plaguing  her  mind,  something  deeper  than  his  tardiness,  deeper  than  a tasteless  supper.  "As  you  well  know." Devara  women  liked  to  play;  some  more  than  others,  and  he  understood  he  was  but  another  toy  walking  through  her  doors.  He  understood,  and  he  did  not  mind.  "You  enjoy  that,  don't  you?  Watching  me  squirm?"  Robb  dismissed  the  rest  of  her  taunting,  almost  entirely.  Almost.  "Not  in  a  forgiving  mood,  then."  quiet  and  quick  laugh  snuck  up  on  him,  and  he  relaxed  into  the  chair, fingers  intertwining  over  his  chest  as  eyes  remained  watchful  --  intent. "And how  does  one  earn  your  forgiveness,  my  lady?  Ought  he  beg?"

[exfortunas]

"i suppose it would be untoward, to offer to finish your plate." it was but a jape -- potentially misplaced, in light of her fears unravelling for cedric to see. he was grateful that she had let him see what truly lurked beneath the mask she'd donned for court. hands withdrawn, but he had noted the tremor in them, heard the strain in each word spoken. the fairvale finished his drink, and placed it against wood, keen to leave the hall behind. "i've had my fill. come, there's a patch of the royal gardens i enjoy, largely out of sight." he did not enjoy much of anything about the royal palace, not when it had become a confine, a gilded cage with bars that would not bend. "i'm not without fear. i've simply... learned to control it. channel it, towards more productive things. you must not let it fester, lyra." fear that could arrest the mind and blind in battle, was deadly. as a warrior, he'd had no choice but to find ways to overcome it -- though that did not meant he lived without it. only fools did. he lowered his voice further, to speak again. "we can only try to navigate the labyrinth of shifting allegiances and covert intentions they've placed us in. i'm no politician -- but i know we are stronger, together."

stares  at  the  untouched  plate  before  her,  fingers  curling  slightly  against  the  cool  metal  rim  of  her  goblet.  she  knows  cedric  means  well  —  but  the  food  might  as  well  be  ash  in  her  mouth.  ‘ i  don’t  think  i  can  stomach  it,  ’  she  admits,  barely  above  a  whisper.  the  weight  of  the  past  night  lingers  like  smoke  in  her  lungs,  suffocating,  pressing.  ‘ i  wish  i  could  pretend  this  is  just  another  trial  to  overcome,  another  political  game  to  endure,  but  —  ’  she  swallows,  struggling  against  the  tightness  in  her  throat.  ‘ i’ve  never  been  this  scared  before,  cedric.  ’  her  hands  tremble,  only  slightly,  but  enough  that  she  presses  them  into  her  lap  to  hide  it.  ‘ i  keep  thinking  about  it.  the  way  they  —  the  way  it  happened.  ’  the  execution  had  unraveled  something  in  her,  shaken  a  certainty  she  once  clung  to,  but  had  little  to  do  with  the  execution  itself.  ‘ how  easy  it  was  for  them  to  turn  a  man  into  nothing  more  than  a  spectacle.  if  that  is  justice,  then  what  hope  do  any  of  us  have  ?   ’