#ev x valerius

[evarcana]

In Too Deep

Ev decides to dive into Vesuvia’s problems again and the tensions run deep.

words: ~2.8k

warnings: minor injuries and alcohol

previous part

notes: This “chapter” was supposed to be something else entirely but too much time has passed from when I first started thinking about it and it evolved on its own. Big thanks @juliandev0rak for letting me make this tiny cameo of Freya!

The last few weeks have been disappointingly uneventful for Ev. The flooding has stopped spreading from the Shopping District and the problem has somehow resolved itself, which is the outcome that most people would find pleasing, but Ev is different from the most for she can never be satisfied with any problem being solved without her input. Of course there are still plenty of other problems in Vesuvia to keep her occupied but at the moment there is nothing she can do about them, mostly because she has been deliberately avoiding the consul.

Their last encounter didn’t end as planned (nor did it end well, for that matter) and save for a few sharp glances and fake pleasantries being exchanged in the palace corridors, the two have been keeping distance from each other ever since. Soon enough Ev’s daily visits to the palace stopped altogether and with this came a break in mutual insults, an unexpected ceasefire, a moment of peace, finally! - yet another outcome that should be pleasing for Ev but no matter what she tries, she just cannot get Valerius out of her head. Even now, when she is sitting in the comfort of her bathtub surrounded by the thick mist of jasmine fragrance.

The hot water is licking her skin and smooth edges of the tub, and every tremble of the light reflection in everchanging folds and ripples somehow reminds Ev of the shaken, lost look on the consul’s face when she lashed out at him. She does not regret it, no, because everything that she said was right and nevertheless there was only one meaning to that look - even if everything had gone according to Ev’s plan, even if for once she could make the consul do as she said, there would have been no fun in winning because in that one brief moment it felt like Valerius had already beaten himself up even before their strange competition started. Even if Ev thought that snarky, obnoxious, overconfident consul was absolutely insufferable, it is this Valerius, worn out and uncertain, the one she first saw in the study on that day and has been catching glimpses of ever since, who she hates even more.

Ev moves a foot and sends tsunami over the gentle glistering ripples, sinking the alchemical globe designed to maintain water temperature. She closes her eyes, lets the air out of her lungs until there is nothing left, and slides down, allowing milky green water to flow over her, hiding her from the echoes of the recent argument which haunts her memory. Under water all the sounds turn inwards, and with the eyes closed Ev cannot tell how deep she has fallen, for all she knows the bottom of the tub may as well be the bottom of the ocean. Think. You need something to keep you busy.

It turns out that without fighting with Valerius she truly doesn’t have much to do in this strange city. Ev now spends her days meticulously organizing her incoming correspondence, greeting Prakran nobles visiting Vesuvia, sampling wines in the bar downstairs and sometimes exploring what is left of the city on her own. How boring. That’s right, being bored to death must be the only reasonable explanation as to why she chooses to think about Valerius in her free time. What happened to him? She flicks images of his face in her head one after another and her heart stutters. She forgot about something. Ev raises her face above water, finally breathing in, and looks around. The steep shores of white ceramic, sunshine pouring in through the window and the ceiling beams high above which could do with some paint. She is back to where she has always been, just floating, completely alone.

She stretches her arm, letting water drip on the painted tiles, and without looking picks a letter from top of the pile set up on the small wooden stool by the bath. Ev smiles at the envelope and with her wet fingers leaving clumsy marks on expensive paper breaks the seal of ivory wax marked with the familiar initials “FIV”. At least she is lucky enough not to pick one of her father’s letters.

“Hello darling,

I still can’t believe that you left sunny Prakra for my shabby hometown. How long has it been already? You have been greatly missed at all the recent soirees! At least by me. Do you remember that annoying client of mine who is a musician? Guess what? He changed his mind… again!”

Ev cackles out loud and as she carries on reading, her eyes light with gentle amusement. Right until she comes to the last paragraph.

“Now, I want to know everything about what you have been up to. You must have drowned yourself in work, you don’t even write to me. What trouble have you been stirring?”

She stares at the question for a long moment, biting on her thumb and then drops the letter on the floor without finishing it. The next long breath that she lets out blurs into a faint growl of frustration at the inevitable as her head disappears under the water. It’s time she attends another court meeting, Ev decides.

***

Valerius is pacing back and forth across the salon periodically shooting angry glances at the parade of palace officials all called in for the emergency meeting. Last night, panicked drunks set fire to the tavern in the South End because they claimed that somebody with bleeding lips and red filled eyes, all characteristic signs of Red Plague, burst in, sobbing and crying for help. Hundreds of terrified people tried to flee the district, when the city watchmen were unable to locate whoever triggered the panic or provide any coherent statement about the situation. Riots beat until dawn, bridges were blocked and the palace guards had to take to canals around the area in narrow boats heavy with weaponry. The whole building burned to the ground and the city’s markets could not open this morning because there is no other way to bring goods in other than waterways. And it wasn’t just the poor and uneducated kind. Valerius was woken up by at least a dozen of messengers sent by the city’s finest families, all asking the same question - is the plague returning and what he, the consul, is going to do to ensure their safety. This cannot be happening. Valerius shakes his head realising that he has been grinding his teeth since the meeting started and tries to consciously relax his grip on the delicate wine glass. A challenge in itself. The absolute worst thing in this situation is that nobody can tell where that red-eyed person is now, or where they appeared from. Bunch of incompetent idiots. Valerius wants to hope that whoever it is, they caught fire together with the tavern last night. Not that he could possibly be that lucky.

“And that’s all you have to report ?! You - ” Valerius turns his wrath to the secretary, who has just finished talking, only to catch him eyeing the door. Looking to escape, you moron? Without thinking, the consul glances at the door too and almost stumbles on the flat ground. Oh please, not you.

With the efficiency of splinter getting in a fingertip, Ev walks in straight into the salon, pausing only briefly to give an apologetic bow to the court. Sure, pretend that you have manners, as if you did not turn up late and interrupted the acting ruler of Vesuvia. Valerius grunts and turns away to show just how unimpressed he is but still registers her taking a seat further back, casually slouching down in the sofa with her chin resting on the palm of her hand and eyes firmly fixed on him. It’s an arrogant power pose she has perfected, obviously for no other reason than to torment him.

Thinking about just how much chaos one day is capable of bringing, Valerius raises his glass and takes an extended sip seeking salvation in the familiar taste. Nothing goes according to plan today including this ridiculous meeting, but at least it keeps him from second guessing his own decisions, something that he has been doing alarmingly lots recently.

Pleased with his new found calmness, Valerius decides to turn his focus back to the meeting and finally establish some order but before he can even start, a wave of hand from the far back distracts him from what he was going to say. What now?!

Looking extremely pleased that she caught his attention so quickly, Ev points her finger at Valerius, or rather at his wine glass, he realises before he can remark on the rudeness of this motion. The painted fingers then quickly dip into a paper bag, which seems to appear out of nowhere, and produce some small black object out of it, which Ev presents to him in an offering gesture. Valerius’s eyes meet Ev’s: are you serious? This is clearly a rhythoric question because the thing she is holding is an olive.

Everything around Valerius is turning into a fucking circus and its not even midday yet.

He raises his own finger, points at the door and enunciates the word crispy: “Out!”. At this point, he thinks he would do and say just about anything if it would mean getting on Ev’s nerves just as much as she gets on his. Under speculative gazes of everybody in the room, Ev sits up a bit straighter but the corners of her lips curl as she puts the olive in her mouth, still looking at Valerius. Damned vixen.

The consul clears his throat. “None of this suggests that the plague is returning, you all are - ”

”Why on earth would anybody be seeking help in a tavern? Not in a clinic or a temple? Do we know what time they turned up?” Ev interrupts squinting at the papers of the secretary sitting in front of her.

The pressure within Valerius overcomes the desire for the order. “How is it even relevant?! And why are you still here?!”, he shouts at Ev.

“Just asking,” she murmurs before she takes another olive and begins eating it a little aggressively. Good.

The consul’s throat is raw from shouting but he makes an effort to keep his tone razor sharp. “Everything needs to be in order for my meeting with the Firentian ambassador this evening. You hear me?!”

Valerius has been looking forward to it: fine wines and fine company, this is the least of what he deserves.

“Yes but my lord, I am afraid you are to be addressing the citizens at the Town Square this evening,” the secretary mutters in a shaky voice and clutches his papers closer.

“I am WHAT?!”

The glass shutters. The contents splash onto Valerius’s shirt giving the impression a stab wound to his heart. A few shards of glass fall on the floor but the wide jagged edge of the remains is stuck in the flash. For a second, all Valerius can think of is the burning pain in his palm. Then he notices faces of shock around him. Lots of blood, lots of pain. He can feel the panic building up in his chest. In one fluid motion, the consul drops the glass and heads to the door, his rage winning over if only to cover up for the reality.

***

Valerius rounds the corner and tries his best not to look down at his tightly balled fist throbbing with pain. For the sake of salvaging any semblance of decorum, if anything, and not having to explain himself to any accidental passerby in the busy palace. The thought of holding a conversation alone in this moment -

“Wait a minute!”

He curses under his breath. Who could have thought that she, out of all people, would decide to run after him. The consul purposefully doubles his strides wishing for mercy.

“Sure, I will just have to follow your blood trail in this case!”, Ev shouts from behind him. Then he hears a particular rushed set of footsteps and the wash of perfumed air which comes with it and tells himself not to turn. He is the picture of composure and dignity, as always, and if he manages to gracefully ignore this mad woman for long enough, there is a chance that the nuisance will disappear with minimal damage.

Too late. “Where are you going? Are you going to get your hand bandaged?” The woman’s head peeks from behind his shoulder. She looks way more annoyed than he expected.

“No, I am going to get another drink. Not like it should be any concern of yours.”

“Let me see your hand,” Ev says, offering hers.

“What for? Some witchy palmistry? You’ll pardon me,” the consul says without slowing down his strides, “if experience suggests I would be wise to meet any proposals from you with utmost caution. I shall also remind you that you have already concluded that the quality of my leadership is somewhat dismal.” Yes, he is still bitter about their last argument. “I am not interested in whatever else you might have to say about me.” Valerius knows it is petty of him, but at this moment he couldn't care less, and besides he likes riling her up.

“Oh please, as if you were not strong enough to take it,” Ev responds in a surprisingly matter-of-fact tone.

As if you know me. “Wait, what?” Valerius stops and looks down at Ev.

She does not even raise her eyes to him, ignoring the question completely, as if this strangest admission was nothing. But Valerius does not need to see her eyes, he already knows that they are big, dark, overly expressive and generously lashed under fine eyebrows. For this reason he really doesn't like when she stares at him. And yet he learned that from the right distance, when her focus is on something else, this woman can be quite pleasant to look at. Just like now.

The consul flicks his attention abruptly away from Ev’s non-ugliness and notices that she is in fact too occupied tracing down the invisible lines with her finger on the palm of her left hand. Is she… writing down something? He tries to decipher the writing, following the tiny strokes but these do not look like any of the letters Valerius recognises. “You are deeply weird, witch,” he says, watching her with a frown.

“Right,” Ev hums. Then she rubs her hands together like she has just come in from some kind of snow blizzard, her cheeks touched with pink adding to the effect. The next moment, before Valerius can react, something unexpected happens - Ev’s hands, impossibly warm, are cupping his fist.

“What are you - ?” He remembers himself and automatically jerks his hand away meeting some momentary resistance.

“It should stop bleeding now. Look.”

Still confused t, Valerius opens his palm. All the blood has dried out and stuck to the skin in rusty patches and there is a thin stroke of the dark scab across his palm. The stinking pain is gone, replaced by twingles of warmth. How - ?

Again without warning, Ev reaches out to him and slides both her palms along his. Valerius registers briefly the heat of her skin, though more gentle than a moment ago, and how small those palms are in comparison with his own before she turns his hand to her and purses her lips. She is inspecting the cut, handling his hand like it’s an injured dove. It is impossible to move away when somebody is holding your hand like this. She presses around the wound gently, fussing and frowning. Valerius is utterly mesmerised.

“Don’t look at me like this.” Those same steady brown eyes catch his. “I don’t remember how to heal it completely, and you are - ”, Ev stops herself and frowns. Lost in her own thoughts, she gives Valerius his hand back and turns away. “You should still bandage it,” she says, waving her hand in his general direction. “It seems like the glass went in deep, the wound can still open.” Her tone is different from the usual and Valerius cannot pin what it is.

Unsure what to do, Valerius looks at his hand again. “Are you sure you have not done more harm than good?”, he asks. Him not turning his back on her straight away should surely suffice for a thank you.

“I don’t know,” Ev shrugs her shoulders and folds her arms. “Get it bandaged. I could recommend the ointment for the scar. It’s alchemical and terribly effective,” she emphasises. “But honestly I think you should leave it as it is, as a reminder not to behave like an idiot next time.”

Valerius immediately regrets showing any kind of gratitude. “Mind who you are calling an idiot,” he huffs off and takes a long overdue step to leave.

Ev follows. “What is bothering you?”

“Besides you?”

“Yes.”

[wingardium-letmefuckyou]

Fireworks (Valerius x gender neutral!reader)

A little late but here is my New Years celebration piece with our favourite Consul.

@waitforawonder as always my dear, inspired by you and your support!

Summary: The apprentice has to attend a boring New Years Eve party but luckily their lover can distract them (this is like the worst summary ever, I am no good at writing these)

Words: 835

Warnings: NSFW but not explicit. I tried something new, something more “metaphorical”.

The buzz of the party becomes annoyingly louder with every minute that passes. The ballroom feels too hot, the people seem as bland as unsweetened porridge. The cool wine on your tongue does little to distract you, even though it tastes exquisite. Of course it does, he had selected it after all. 

You gave up trying to engage in a conversation about an hour ago. The guests at the party are either too drunk to communicate with or too sober and adamant about discussing politics. 

You sigh, feeling deflated. Honestly, you miss your friends. 

Asra is having a cosy night in with Muriel at their cabin, Julian is going out into town, probably being very loud and drunk by now. Portia is busy at work and Nadia has duties to attend to and numerous guests to talk with. 

Duty is what has you stuck at this New Years Eve party in the first place. As both Court Magician and the Consul’s partner you have to be present at the palace on this important occasion, as proper diplomatic guidelines demand. 

“Someone looks like they are not enjoying themselves.”

A voice like smooth velvet, warm and rich, whispers in your ear. It’s accompanied by a tender kiss right behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. It takes all your self control not to lean back against your lover and demand for more. 

“This party is stuffy and boring. All they talk about is deals and treaties.”

Your answer is blunt and honest and you whirl around to face Valerius, frustration obvious on your face. 

“Why is the orchestra even playing if no one is going to dance?”

You gesture at the musicians, who are playing a slow and rather somber tune. If you didn’t know any better you’d think this was a funeral. Valerius smiles mildly, completely at ease with the atmosphere of the party. 

“It’s always been like this, my sweet blossom. New Years Eve is an important evening for politics and decision making,” he explains calmly. 

The Consul is used to this by now, he is after all a gifted diplomat himself. Besides, even the most dreadful conversation becomes bearable accompanied by a good glass of wine. That is what he always used to think but now he is conflicted as you do not seem to enjoy yourself. How bothersome, this need of his to see you smile, for you to be happy. 

Valerius lets out a sigh and puts down his wineglass in favour of taking your hand, warm fingers curling around yours. 

“Come,” he beckons, pulling you away from the party, out of the stuffy ballroom. 

“Where are we going?”

Admittedly, you are relieved to be going somewhere else but you are also curious about the sudden change in the Consul. 

“You’ll see.”

Valerius leads you down several hallways until you reach a hidden door behind a grand tapestry. Behind the door is a set of stairs, leading both up and down. 

“Eum Val, are you sure…”

You hesitate for a moment which earns you an annoyed glare from your lover. 

“Trust me.”

His thumb caresses your hand soothingly, a tantalizing contrast to the look on his face. You follow him up the stairs, every step bringing you closer to the top of one of the high palace towers. A grand balcony gives you a marvelous view of the city and you gasp, wonder and amazement on your face. Vesuvia is a blanket of lights, a reflection of the starry night sky. 

A warm hand on the small of your back leads you further on the balcony. Valerius peers out and the satisfied look on his face implies that he found whatever he was looking for. 

“I believe we are right on time.”

The hand on your back pulls you closer to him, until your bodies are flush against each other, easily chasing the chill of the night away. 

BANG

Brilliant gold, a shower of sparks, resembling the adoring eyes of your lover. 

BANG

Fiery red, as passionate as the kiss he plants on your lips, his hands roaming freely over your body, mapping out a path only known to him. 

BANG

Liquid silver, as bright as the tingles running down your spine when his tongue finds yours, engaging in that dance you so longed for. You surrender without a fight, no musicians needed. 

BANG BANG BANG

Like the rhythm of your heartbeat, thumping away furiously at every touch, every caress,. Louder than the flutter of quickly discarded garments.

BANG

Fire and light in the sky but his skin on yours, fingertips exploring, burns brighter. Smouldering, scorching. 

BANG

Deafening booms to mask delighted moans and desperate whimpers. Always begging for more, more, more… 

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

The grand finale arrives, the climax, a sublimation of ultimate bliss. Even with your eyes closed you still see the fireworks, feel them in every fiber of your being. Just as Valerius does, completely lost in the throes of passion. Lost in you.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Neutrinos weighed by the world's most precise scale The Karlsruhe Tritium Neutrino Experiment KATRIN starts -- Official inauguration colloquium on June 11 -- Germany's Federal Minister of Research: An experiment of superlatives' KARLSRUHER INSTITUT FÜR TECHNOLOGIE (KIT) The Karlsruhe Tritium Neutrino Experiment KATRIN now starts to weigh the mass of neutrinos. Following the electrostatic spectrometer and the detector unit, the tritium source was installed as the last of the large components of KATRIN. The ambitious and highly motivated team of physicists, engineers, and technicians is well-trained and looks forward to the challenges in determining the neutrino mass. Germany's Federal Minister of Research Anja Karliczek says: "KATRIN is an experiment of superlatives and will complement the knowledge about our universe by a decisive piece of the puzzle. I congratulate the KIT and the research collaboration on the successful assembly of this complex experiment. Together with you, I look forward to the start of the measurement phase and the first research results. Such an important experiment on German territory strengthens Germany as a location of research." With a share of around 75%, the Federal Ministry of Research was the biggest funding partner by far. It invested about 50 million euros in the building of KATRIN. "Large-scale research facilities promote technological development and provide an inspiring work environment for researchers and students at KIT, the Research University in the Helmholtz Association," concludes Professor Holger Hanselka, President of Karlsruhe Insitute of Technology. "With KATRIN, an international research community has found its home at KIT, and it will be interesting to see which fascinating insights into the universe will be opened up by this creative interdisciplinary team." "Neutrinos have adopted the role of much-noticed superstars in the zoo of known elementary particles, and their impact on our modern view of the macro- and microcosm dwarfs that of other particles" outlines Guido Drexlin, Professor of KIT and Scientific Co-spokesperson of KATRIN. Also cosmologists pay a great deal of attention to the unique role of the large number of relic neutrinos as "ghost particles of the universe" in shaping the large-scale structures in our cosmos. Their exact role as cosmic architects depends on their rest mass, which is unknown at present. "It is only in the last two decades that we know neutrinos to possess a finite rest mass - in sharp contrast to long-held expectations of particle theorists. This breakthrough is due to professors Arthur B. McDonald (Queens University, Canada) and Takaaki Kajita (Tokyo University, Japan) and their international teams," Guido Drexlin continues. They were the first to obtain irrefutable evidence of neutrino flavor transitions, which earned them the Nobel Prize in Physics in 2015. Today, the non-zero rest mass of neutrinos remains the sole indication of novel physics beyond the Standard Model to have been verified in the laboratory. The discoveries of McDonald and Kajita show that neutrinos have mass, but do not tell us how much. KATRIN will make use of different physics principles and experimental methods to perform a model-independent measurement of the neutrino mass. The two Nobel laureates, who are in close contact with KATRIN, will attend the Inauguration Colloquium, as will many other international colleagues. "KATRIN is an international flagship mission, and we are very keen to learn about its first results," stated both laureates prior to the milestone event, where high-purity molecular tritium gas will be injected for the first time into the KATRIN source as ß-emitter. Later, about 100 billion ß-decay processes of molecular tritium per second will release an electron and a neutrino each, which share among them the 18.6 keV decay energy in a statistical process. In extremely rare cases, the neutrino turns up almost "empty-handed," while the electron obtains nearly the entire energy. Einstein´s famous formula E=mc² tells us that the invisible neutrino has to carry away at least its rest mass, which the electron then lacks. It is this minute amount of missing energy in the electron energy spectrum that the KATRIN neutrino scale hunts for, down to a level of 0.2 eV (corresponding to the inconceivably small mass of 3.6 x 10-37 kg), which is an order of magnitude more sensitive than previous experiments. This called for an unprecedented tritium source strength, scaled up by a factor of 100, and much improved spectroscopy properties. "KATRIN is a true technological marvel," raves Ernst Otten, emeritus professor of Mainz University, one of the founding fathers of KATRIN, who headed the former Mainz neutrino mass experiment. During the commissioning phase, the KATRIN team successfully tested many technological novelties and reached several world records. "An incredible success story is our ultra-precise high-voltage system and the 700 m² wire-based electrode system for the very large spectrometer," says Christian Weinheimer, Professor of the University of Münster, who also is Scientific Co-spokesperson of KATRIN. He and his team have developed and built several important key com-ponents and, thus, contributed significantly to the success of the project. Several novel technologies developed for KATRIN now are used in other experiments as well and are applied by other disciplines. The international KATRIN team recently succeeded in mastering a final challenge: The very stringent requirements on the stability of the source parameters were improved by one order of magnitude. The tritium source of KATRIN is housed inside a 16 m long highly complex cryostat that is located - as are all other source components - in the Karlsruhe Tritium Laboratory (TLK). TLK offers a unique tritium infrastructure and expertise worldwide, which is the reason why KATRIN is located at KIT. Electrons in huge numbers from the source are guided by strong superconducting magnets to the very large electrostatic spectrometer, the heart of KATRIN. In 2006, this enormous vessel was shipped in a spectacular sea-going voyage from the manufacturer in Upper Bavaria to KIT via the Danube river, the Mediterranean and the North Seas, and the river Rhine. For many years now, the spectrometer has held the record of being the world´s largest ultra-high vacuum vessel with a final pressure as low as on the lunar surface. A system of active and passive pumping systems ensures that no tritium molecule advances to the extreme vacuum of the spectrometer. After several years of planning, construction, and commissioning of the major components of the 70 m long setup, the nearly 200 members of the international KATRIN Collaboration from 20 institutions in 7 countries now look forward to the imminent start of the measurements in June 2018. "I am very proud of our enthusiastic team with its great commitment and its broad expertise," emphasizes Drexlin, who also coordinated the assembly of KATRIN at KIT as a project head. "My cordial thanks go to the Federal Ministry of Education and Research and the Helmholtz Association which supported and financed the setup of KATRIN over a period of many years." "The unique properties of source and spectrometer are of major importance for the complex KATRIN data analysis", emphasizes Dr. Kathrin Valerius, who leads a Helmholtz Young Investigator Group at KIT. Together with her young female colleagues, professors Susanne Mertens from the Max Planck Institute for Physics and the Technical University of Munich and Diana Parno from Carnegie Mellon University, USA, she leads and coordinates the work of the international analysis team. "The first weeks of data taking under nominal conditions will be most challenging and exciting, as we enter uncharted experimental terrain," the three young analysis specialists agree. Their international team consists of postdoctoral and PhD researchers as well as master's and bachelor's students. The ambitious and highly motivated team is well-trained and looks forward to the challenges in determining the neutrino mass. With the official Inauguration Colloquium on June 11, the KATRIN team has realized a long-standing dream. "Only with determination, enthusiasm, and a good dose of boldness can a pioneering project, such as KATRIN, be implemented," Hamish Robertson, Professor of the University of Washington in Seattle, USA, and long-term US Spokesperson of KATRIN, summarizes the long way from the first ideas in 2001 up to today. As inventor of the gaseous molecular tritium source in use at KATRIN and coordinator of the important US activities for KATRIN, he can look back on several decades of milestones in neutrino research. The two co-spokespersons explain: "Our path has been full of challenges. Now, we are at the start of data taking and look forward to exciting KATRIN results, as was good tradition in experimental neutrino physics over the past decades." They and the entire team expect the future measurements which will last well into the next decade to produce high-impact results. Being „The Research University in the Helmholtz-Association", KIT creates and imparts knowledge for the society and the environment. It is the objective to make significant contributions to the global challenges in the fields of energy, mobility and information. For this, about 9,300 employees cooperate in a broad range of disciplines in natural sciences, engineering sciences, economics, and the humanities and social sciences. KIT prepares its 25,500 students for responsible tasks in society, industry, and science by offering research-based study programs. Innovation efforts at KIT build a bridge between important scientific findings and their application for the benefit of society, economic prosperity, and the preservation of our natural basis of life.

[mysteryunfold]

The Arcana New Year - Part II

Nadia x MC (Avohkii)

Setting: 11pm, New Year’s Eve

Word Count: 750

Dedicated to @nadias-bitch

A woman's tall figure stood on the palace's veranda.  Back turned to the celebration, she surveyed the gardens. Through Avohkii's bare eyes, she stood in a blurry haze.  After they cleaned their glasses, they placed their thin frames on the bridge of their nose.  The Countess came into clearer view, the moonlight shining on her dark skin.

Stepping out into the night air, Avohkii cleared their throat.  At the meek sound, the Countess lifted her proud head.  She turned with her lip curled in disgust, but when she saw Avhokii's thin frame, her twisted expression relaxed.  "Oh, I'm glad it's you!"  She said.  "I thought it might have been Vlastomil with his talk of bugs or Valerius looking for a moment to improve his station."  Sighing, she touched her temple.  "Nasmira can handle their talk.  I have difficulty."  With the moonlight in her eyes, she gestured next to her.  "Please, come.  There is always a place for you next to me."

At the Countess's invitation, they walked up to the railing and placed their hands on the cool stone.  With a gentle smile, they grasped the end of her violet hair and rubbed its vibrant hue in between their index finger and thumb.

"Avohkii."  Nadia said their name in deep affection.  "Has Portia asked you to come fetch me or are you out here on your own accord?"  A beautiful blush softened her features.

They entwined their fingers with hers, and her smile grew wider at the touch.  "I came out here for solitude and peace."  She admitted, placing a hand over theirs.  "But, I think that you prefer the quiet too, especially with the Council and their nosy questions.  I think I would enjoy finding solace with you, if you wish to stay."

She turned back to the garden, but the regal lines of her face hardened.  Avohkii nudged her, and she glanced at them without shifting her neck.  "Tomorrow's a new year."  Her voice sounded distant and stale.  "The masquerade is almost upon us.  I fear that I underestimated our task." 

A rush of anxiety froze Avohkii's chest.  Head spinning, they swayed from the Countess.  Sensing their movement, Nadia turned and grabbed their hands.  "Not that I doubt your abilities."  Eyes widened, her words rushed out.  A hand traveled to their cheek.  As she caressed their skin, she felt the budding of stubble underneath her fingertips.  "You have never disappointed me, dear one."

Flushed from her touch, Avohkii nodded at Nadia with compassion in their eyes.  Nadia continued speaking.  "The deeper we go into this, the more doubts I have."  Her brows furrowed as she felt a pain seep out of her heart.  "My thoughts torment me.  Will I be a good ruler?  What do I actually have to do?"  Her touch fell from Avohkii's chin and found their hand. "Why was Lucio and the Council so well liked and I'm looked at with disdain?  Why are people so shallow that they do not look past appearances?"  Letting go of Avohkii, she turned back to the garden, the jovial sounds of the party behind her.  "They follow people like Lucio because of his outgoingness and charisma; meanwhile, I don't have this warm, effusive personality, but I earnestly want to do good, be fair and be just."

Her fingers tapped against the railing.  "I am still trying to figure out how to fulfill those values, but I feel like I have no time to observe and think."  Jaw clenching, she sucked in a harsh breath and pounded her fist against the railing.  "If only that damn doctor would just hang, then this chapter of my life would be over.  I'm not sure if I can even complete that goal."  Her jaw trembled as her voice grew louder.  "He has to die at the masquerade! I have to prove…"  The frustration in her voice melted to a soft tone.  "I have to prove that I can do this, that I can lead."

A small hand rested on her arm, Nadia's tight posture fell under Avohkii's touch.

"You are taking too much on."  Avohkii whispered, voice soft and timid.  The moonlight shone off their sandy ponytail, an aura of comfort.

At the sound of their voice, Nadia turned and gathered them into a hug.  She rested her chin down on their shoulder, holding back tears.  "Thank you."  Her words stayed simple.

Avohkii circled comforting patterns along her back.  "Of course."

The faint hum of the party clashed in the palace.  As the New Year drew closer, Nadia lingered in Avohkii's embrace.

Part I : Part III

[evarcana]

Do Me a Little Favour

In which everybody is trying to make a deal.

words: 2,3k

warnings: scorpios alcohol

notes: I have complicated relationship with this one and I think it shows in the end that I just had enough of it. Previous part.

The thing about fighting with Valerius, Ev thinks, is that she never truly wins. That’s what is so deceptive about it all. The moment she thinks that she has won, something reminds her that she hasn’t. It’s nothing but win and then lose, lose, lose...

“…did you lose your mind?! What new brand of idiocy is this?!” Valerius’s voice echoes inside Ev’s head and she winces in pain. She only slept for two hours. As soon as she came home last night, she started working on this plan, and quickly became so obsessed with it, she couldn’t bring herself to stop improving and revising it. She eventually dozed off on the couch, but her dreams were so restless and strange, filled with dozens of reports she still tried to read despite the warm distracting whisper, right against the back of her ear, belonging to the voice she wished she did not recognise, that when Ev trembled awake she refused to allow herself to close eyes again, even for a moment.

Her proposal, carefully planned to take only a single sheet of paper to appear as discreet and simple as possible, now lays on the consul’s desk and, judging by how things stand, will soon face its end and get torn to shreds. Ev feels sorry for this poor paper, and even more so for herself. She rubs her temple lightly and looks up at Valerius. Those wistful eyes and soothing voice from the carriage ride last night are long gone now. The consul clenches his jaw, and lifts his wine glass carefully, like it is taking every ounce of control he has to not use it for violent means. And there she was, thinking that they could finally be civil.

Ev crosses her arms. “I think you are missing the point here. Did you forget that you owe me? You have already agreed,” she says.

“I didn’t agree to this,” Valerius looks down at the paper in front of him so angrily, Ev can only wonder how it does not set on fire. “You have no right.”

“I have your word.”

His face twitches slightly and something like hope rises in Ev’s chest. Appealing to the man's pride might be just the only way to manage him. She holds her breath while Valerius slowly takes a sip of wine, considering, but then his attention returns to her and the knife-sharp expression of derision on his face alone is enough to kill all her expectations. “As if you were worthy of my word.”

“Ouch.” Ev thinks that if she makes it sound sarcastic, he won’t know that she is serious.

The consul’s brows slant in strong disapproval. “Do you turn everything that you do into one of your deranged jokes?”, he asks. If Ev thought that it did not sting that much a moment ago, it surely does now. It’s like school all over again: she is being scolded and the worst part is that whatever protests she might have would little to no leverage thanks to her own recent behaviour. Ev drops her eyes to where her foot has started angrily tapping the leg of the desk. What else can she do in this absurd situation? “Pray tell,” Valerius continues, “what shall I expect next? Will you perhaps challenge me to a game of chess and put being acting ruler of Vesuvia for a day at stake?!”

This makes Ev’s eyes snap back to his. What a tremendous idea. Valerius would have to do everything she says, including treating her with some basic respect. She leans forward, chin in hand, “Imagine how hard I will make you work after you lose.”

“In your dreams,” he says stiffly after a pause and a faint throat-clearing rasp.

Not my bloody dreams. Ev bites her lip and retreats back in her chair, her every movement trailed by what she can only describe as the consul’s death stare. Now that she thinks about it, she has never seen Valerius smile, let alone laugh at her jokes. Not like she would want him to. What an asshole.

For as frequently as she wants to smack Valerius, Ev can’t forget what she is here for and decides to resort to diplomacy. “Look,” she sighs, “in the grand scheme of things this is nothing. You still have control over the city, I am only asking you to do something about the flooding spreading from the Shopping District to the Center City because Prakran trade guild is right on the border of two. If it wasn’t for my constant reassurances they would have already packed and left, they just can’t continue repairing the property, it will literally sink at this rate.” Diplomacy and some mild exaggeration. “Here -,” she reaches to gently point at the particular paragraph of her proposal, “I am not an expert but I think this should work for the time being.”

This time it looks like Valerius is actually studying the paper. “How long have you been planning this? You didn’t discuss anything with me,” he says frowning.

“Would you have listened?”

“No.”

Ev exhales, long and slow, because she has to physically stop herself from growling. She will treat herself to it later, when she is alone. One last attempt. She looks at Valerius’s unfazed, blank face and tries to see past it, where that soft expression and kind but sad eyes hide in the golden lamp glow wrapped in the darkness of the night. “This is really just a small favour, consul,” she says and gives him her best smile, which comes to her surprisingly easy - swing of perfect fans of eyelashes, genuine contact flaring in the bright eyes and lips lifted in an easy curve, bringing delicious colour to the apples of her cheeks, “- please.”

A loud bang almost makes Ev jump out of her own skin. Valerius has just slammed both his hands on the table. “You call running a city a small favour?!” He looks like he is one second away from going stark-raving insane. Ev knows the feeling all too well.

“What did you think I would ask you?!”, she lashes back at him, “Take me out for dinner? Find me a good tailor? Another city tour?!” Ev breaks to take a breath and to move a strand of hair out of her face, and glares at Valerius standing behind the desk. Suddenly, the consul seems to be unable to decide what is worse, eye contact or none. If anything he looks confused. Ev can spot a faint wash of brighter colour on his cheekbones. Oh. Valerius is embarrassed as hell. It’s so ridiculous that it only makes her angrier. Before she knows it, she jumps out of her chair and her palms land on the desk with another bang, “I have one problem in this life and it’s your damned inability to make rational decisions!”

The one thing that Ev cannot deny is that, even when he is furious, the consul is still fascinating to look at, especially now that she knows that it is not the only emotion he is capable of. The tensing jaw makes all his features sharper and intriguing darkness takes over the golden taupe of his eyes. It makes maintaining the withering glare just a little bit harder, because she has to try not to notice. Ev wished he would look away first so she could let her eyes drop to his mouth for a second but he does not. They both just stare at each other from the opposite sides of the desk, unable to move. Energy and anger seem to have sucked out all the air from the space between them. Ev hears the drum of pulse in her own ears racing uncomfortably fast and her breaths turn so desperate she can feel her lips going dry.

A knock on the door, followed by another.

“Enter!” Valerius barks, his eyes still fixed on Ev’s.

The door opens slowly and the palace chamberlain and a young woman with fiery red hair appear from another side. Judging by the sheepish look on their faces, they have been standing there long enough to hear the shouting.

“I apologise for interrupting,” the chamberlain starts.

“No need,” Valerius raises his hand, cutting him short, “our Prakran guest is already leaving.”

“Actually,” Ev interjects and slides her elbows down on the desk, stretching, and casually rests her chin in the palm, “I am not.”

“Right, forgive me, I wanted to introduce the new maid who will be attending to the Countess,” visibly confused the chamberlain gestures to the young woman who has been watching them with avid interest.

The redhead gives a discreet curtsy, “Pleasure to meet you, my name is Portia.”

Ev returns it with a small wave. “Ev Panopolis, emissary of the Prakran royal family. Congratulations on your appointment, and good luck. You will need it in this place.” She gives Valerius a side-eye. He glances back, almost amused.

Valerius turns to the chamberlain with a bored, irritated expression. “Shall you really disturb me with such a trivial matter?” He is clearly not in the mood for pleasantries.

“My sincere apologies again.” The chamberlain bows hurriedly and rushes Portia to leave.

Once the door closes, Ev turns to Valerius. “Well, aren’t you just great at first impressions?”

“Talk about yourself. What was that just now?” Valerius pinches the bridge of his nose and glances at Ev, still stretched over the desk. “Get off my desk!”

Ev reluctantly flops back down into her chair and rubs her temples again, “Listen we both have our ends of the bargain to keep. You either do it or you don’t.” She can feel her patience running out. It’s painful. “I will go work on my review then, and trust me, your name will be repeated so many times, people will complain.”

“Yes. Well. As if I cared.” Valerius picks up his glass and walks to the window. “Now, I believe that we are done with this conversation.”

“You did care yesterday,” Ev reminds him but the consul does not react. She pushes on. “Shall I also mention your peculiar relationship with the late count? That will go nicely with the matrimonial drama in the play.” Apparently she is a professional blackmailer now. This is what Valerius does to her. “Intimate trust and that sort of thing,” she adds meaningfully.

Valerius turns so red, Ev has to give his wine glass a concerned glance. Is it some new strong stuff?

“How do you -“

“That’s what happens when I have nothing better to do. Ignore me for another two weeks and I will know what you eat for breakfast.” She is either completely losing her wits or finally getting somewhere with this insufferable man. Probably both.

“ - Come up with this nonsense.” Valerius’s face has defaulted back to grave and serious. “I suggest you find a more - ” he pauses for effect, “- dignified way to spend your free time than listening to the commoners gossiping in the kitchens.”

“Sure”, Ev says gamely - if the consul does not consider her worthy of his word, whatever she says next is not going to hurt him, “but will it still be kitchen rumours if it comes from me? You are not particularly popular with the citizens, and - ”

“Why do you even care?” Valerius interrupts.

Ev is left with no choice but to play it cool now. “About what?”

Valerius frowns but does not respond, instead he gets back to his desk and lifts the paper with Ev’s proposal, “this.”

“That’s the point, consul,” she narrows her eyes. “I don’t. But you clearly are not fit to rule the city, or your court. Nobody is doing anything!”

“Don’t you think that it’s not up to you to judge? Remind me, how long ago did you arrive?”

“Oh not this again!” Ev is no longer able to contain herself in the chair so she gets up and steps behind it, her hands firmly grabbing the wooden back. “I don’t understand what the problem is. The city is flooding. I offer you a plan. You can’t listen. Do you have any better ideas ? How else are you going to solve this problem?!”

“Don’t talk to me like I am sitting here doing nothing!” the consul shouts and jerks his hand, making the wine fly over the edge of the glass in raging wave of red.

“Whatever you are doing is not enough!” Ev shouts back without thinking. When she looks at Valerius’s face again, he looks shaken. In that moment she knows that she is never going to hear those stories about Vesuvia from him again and the realisation breaks something inside of her with a painful snap.

***

It’s the middle of the night and the world is spinning around Valerius as he restlessly moves in his bed, shuddering and gasping, sheets sticking to his skin and tangling his limbs. The last bottle was definitely a mistake, especially because it did nothing to silence the voice in his head. How else are you going to solve it? You are not fit to rule, not enough... He is twirling through endless loops, that is why Valerius is not sure where the reality ends and his nightmare starts.

Crimson red chambers. A stranger. He has seen him before.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A problem?” Consul, would you like me to solve it?”, the stranger asks.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Oh, but you did. I heard it from the deepest part of your heart.”

“You misunderstood”

“Impossible!” the stranger waves his hand. “Look at you, so tired, too tired to deal with it all yourself. As a consul, you should know that sometimes the best solution is to delegate,” he smiles knowingly and gets closer. “I’ll handle this, you just need to say a word.”

[evarcana]

I See the Moon

Oh when you are looking at the sun

Ev wears some very impractical shoes and learns that she does not know the city quite as well as she thought.

characters: the usual cast of Ev and consul Valerius

words: 2,4k

warnings: none!

notes: I wanted to write something short and sweet to act as a placeholder between the previous part and what is coming next, but I think I got a bit too emotionally attached in the process. The title is from “Be the One” by Dua Lipa and I will leave it open for interpretations.

Darkness strikes Ev’s eyes as she steps out of the theatre doors and for a moment she is completely lost in time and space, staring at her surroundings as if seeing everything for the first time - the disorientation which comes with returning to reality after the magic of the theatre wears off.

A few myopic street lanterns glimmer faintly and the moon, pitched extraordinarily high, is covered by the ragged organza of thin clouds and barely available to light the streets below. Passing groups of people turn into clusters of dark silhouettes, and Ev watches the collars being lifted and scarfs wrapped tighter, as the theatregoers hide themselves from the wind moist with the cool evening dew and disappear into the shadows, leaving only trails of soft footsteps and animated chatter behind them. It is this time of the year when night falls suddenly and way quicker than anyone anticipates.

The impatient tug on Ev’s arm cuts through the hazy darkness. “Are you going to let me leave or what?!” Valerius sounds desperate in his exasperation.

“Just a moment and you are free.” Still watching the dark street, Ev reaches for her bag and throws a pair of flat pointy mules decorated with golden beads and tassels on the ground in front of her. Using Valerius’s arm for support, she lifts one leg to untie the ribbons on her ankle. Somebody behind them helpfully holds the theatre door open, letting the light out, and they both stare at Ev’s bright red toenails as she steps out of her shoes. Ev frowns to herself and curls her toes - it is hard to be an intimidating opponent when you wear a cute sparkly little ring on your fourth toe, when she feels another tug and catches her breath in surprise, losing her balance. The arm slips from under her hand causing her to immediately crash into Valerius. Well, no chance of looking like a menace now. At least Valerius can’t run away, she thinks, because her entire face is smashed into his chest. “So impatient,” Ev rolls her eyes and tucks her heels in the bag.

Valerius hurries to brush off something invisible from his coat and then looks down at Ev’s feet with cynical interest, “Going on a hike?”

She contemplates telling that it took her a very detoured walk from the palace and four nervous circles around the Town Square to finally burn all that destructive energy her body generated in their morning argument, and that right now she is dying to rub her sore ankles, but decides against it. After all, wounded animals are easy prey. “Looks like it,” Ev says, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She scans the road once again and clicks her tongue. There is a carriage pulling away, two people inside, and another one rolling on towards the theatre, the coachman already waving to somebody, but most of the theatre crowd chooses to walk. They all must be locals, or heading to the closest tavern, Ev realises.

“Don’t tell me, -” Valerius’s voice says and Ev looks up, surprised that he is still standing there, “you don’t have a carriage because you were hoping to find a date to continue the night. You shall forgive me for ruining this little plan of yours.” His words are dripping with distaste.

She realises that Valerius must have been following her eyeline. The nervous lough blasts out of her but she manages to catch it and it turns to sound like a cough. A lucky guess on his part? Or did he take inspiration from his own plans? Ev refuses to think about the whole theatre fiasco. The sinking feeling in her chest has started and she puts her hands on her hips in annoyance. “I thought there would be carriages waiting,” she manages to say.

Valerius arches his brow in response, “...how pathetic.” Ev gives him her best withering look and turns away.

The last carriage departs with the din of wheels hitting the worn edges of the stones. Valerius’s eyes are still set on Ev’s face and his brow begins to crease slowly. He is clearly deliberating something but Ev cannot see it. She is watching clouds moving slowly across the moon. “Where do you live?”, he finally asks.

“By the Town Square,” Ev responds automatically, squinting at the sky above her.

“Not in the Heart District?” It sounds like a genuine question at first but the edge of his mouth lifts in a wry grin. “Didn’t you say I wasn’t the only one with the money here?”

“Too close to you,” she smirks back, “the urge of leaving a dead fish by your gate at least weekly would be -,” she leans in closer, turning her voice into syrupy sweet hush, “- irresistible”. This is getting weird. “Anyway,” Ev hurriedly looks behind her shoulder at the theatre doors, “I think it is going to rain later. Have a good night,” the words come in a flat orderly row, she is already concerned with something else, “I will see whether the theatre director can fetch me a carriage.”

“My carriage is waiting down the road.”

“Mm good,” Ev mutters to herself but then the realisation hits and she turns to the consul, eyes wide. “Are you offering me a lift home?” A ‘thank you’ sign lights inside her head but she crashes it with a wave of suspicion. It’s Valerius out of all people. He has no reason to offer her a ride in his carriage besides plotting to murder her and then ditch the body somewhere in the forest. Ev gives him a hard stare.

Valerius breaks the staring game first - his eyes flash with the new unidentified emotion before he regains his usual dismissive look. “Not home,” he snorts, “to the Town Square,this should suffice for a favour.”

“No no, hold on,” Ev raises her hand in protest. “I haven’t asked you anything yet, and hospitality is not a favour.”

“What hospitality are you talking about?”

“You repeat that it is your city all the time! Technically, I am still a guest.” Inside her head Ev is thanking all the available gods for her ability to just keep talking, regardless of whether it makes sense or not, because she definitely has not processed what happened yet.

“Yes, well, just keep your mouth shut,” Valerius says and walks off without a backward glance, his back soon disappearing in the darkness of the narrow lane.

Ev’s eyes follow his path and then she throws another look at the theatre building. The light in one of its rounded windows goes down. She watches the emptying street and feels the goose bumps scatter her forearms. The air is beginning to chill. She looks down at her feet. Ev decides that the consul is the kind of man who would rather pay somebody if he wanted to get rid of her than being involved himself and for the second time this evening she rushes after Valerius. This is so weird.

She is about to call him out to slow down because the sound of duck feet that her ‘emergency’ shoes make is getting on her nerves when she hears a loud thud and a curse. In the darkness of the path Ev is not sure how close Valerius is to her but she knows that he stumbled and it makes her giggle in delight. She stretches her hand out glancing at the strips of warm candlelight coming from the gaps in the window shutters and the ivory glare of the moon. A small globe of light, the size of a plum, forms above her hand. Its light is delicate and warm, as if filtered through the frosted glass, but bright enough to fill the space between the two of them.

The consul straightens up quickly, “Why -”

“I don’t know about you but I like my toes all intact,” Ev walks over to him. “It’s only a small trick, here,” she raises her hand and the light gets brighter, “you can touch it, it’s not hot.”

Valerius takes a step back, looking at the ball of light suspiciously. “You are full of tricks, aren’t you?” he says.

“Don't even make me start on what you are full of.” She bunches her hand in a fist and the light sphere drops down but, before hitting the ground, it bounces back in the air like a small ball and splits into a dozen of smaller lights, startling Valerius. They hover in the air along the path similar to a garland of lanterns as they walk in silence until the lane ends, opening to the canal, and Ev asks, “Is it your carriage there?”

***

The servant opens the carriage door and much to Ev’s astonishment, Valerius waits for her to get in first. She gives him a confused look but complies. There is no evening chill inside and the cushioned seats are invitingly soft, so Ev’s immediately decides that regardless of what is going to happen it was a good idea not to walk home. Valerius takes a seat opposite her and reaches to unbutton his coat and pull his long loose braid from under the collar. His head rolls gently to the side and Ev sees a couple of inches of the neck, soft lines and the glowing skin. She feels her cheeks beginning to heat, suddenly remembering the warmth and the bitter almond fragrance she breathed in every time she got too close to the man, and gods did she get too close tonight.

This is about as far from the real world as Ev can imagine. The carriage is small and the little triangle of her beaded slipper somehow ended up between the consul’s leather boots. If she was to stretch her leg, the bareskin on the side her foot would brush along his shin. They have never sat this close together. Ev thinks about the old lady from the theatre. How would she feel if she knew that she was the only thin barrier stopping them from recognising each other and fully succumbing to the mutual hostility, claiming at least half of the theatre as casualties in the process. This could have been a disaster.

Ev looks at Valerius again and tries to understand how could she not recognise these features straight away. The signature crease between the dark brows and the sulky mouth. Valerius sits in silence, and his eyes are definitely not the ones she knows. They are so wistful and lonely, and so golden under the lamp light, Ev has to look away.

She puts a hand under her chin and leans to the window. A fine mist of rain has started to grit on the glass, and behind the sparks of its tiny drops - a bridge arches over the canal’s silver curve, both ends of which are clipped by infinity, which, in the dim light of the early night, is only ten feet away. The backdrop is all in flashes of the lit windows and the black outlines of pointed rooftops, round cupolas and slender towers, all together resembling a crown adorned by a single grand jewel of the moon, burning bright white. Then, the skyline and even the moon gets momentarily obscured by the huge wall, deprived of any lights, looking ghostly in the tempered gloom.

“That massive rounded building, what is it?” Ev is surprised with herself for striking a conversation.

“Have you not seen it before?”

“No, I have not really been to this part of the city,” she says, turning to Valerius, “What is it? A hippodrome?”

“It's the coliseum. The count’s favourite place,” he gives a chuckle which sounds bitter. “The man loved... performances.”

“What kind of performances?” Ev asks, watching his mouth twisting in distaste. Something about his look makes her frown.

“Gladiators. Bloodshed which lacked any order or purpose besides the count’s own entertainment,” Valerius rubs the bridge of his nose and glances to the window. Ev cannot tell whether he is looking at the moon or the looming coliseum, considering something. “But it’s not what this place was intended for,” he pauses. He turns back to Ev and the expression in his eyes is softer. “It was built before Lucio became a count, although it was slightly less grand back then. The rituals and ceremonies were conducted there during the festivities and the previous count used to reenact scenes of the famous battles there, using the actors. It brought the whole city together. Nobody wants to remember those days anymore.”

Ev feels a weird tremble inside and she is not sure what has caused it until she realises that it is a strange, unusual affection in his voice. She crosses her arms and seats back to contain the feeling. It’s so freaking strange to talk to him when his face is not a mask of boredom. “Did you use to come to watch?” she asks.

“Only when I had to. As if I would mix myself with the roaring crowd of plebeians. Besides, it was terribly distatestful and the smell inside was disgusting.” His mouth tightens, and a strange shadow clouds his expression this time. “Pointless waste of human life.”

“Oh,” is all Ev can manage. She cannot stop staring at Valerius. There is some kindness beneath this asshole facade, human decency, fairness even. It is not the perspective that she has been prepared for. “I meant before that,” she adds faintly.

“Yes I did, when I was much younger.”

“I cannot believe I have never heard of it.”

“Did you do any research before you came here?” The consul is back to his dismissive tone.

“Honestly? I had other things to worry about.” Ev turns back to the window, suddenly unable to look at him anymore.

She hears an irritated snort from Valerius but then, after a brief silence, he starts talking again, and it is not about Ev’s inadequacy. He talks about the canals named after constellations, traditions which Vesuvia used to have, and what you could find in the city before the plague. His voice is calm and steady, and has this velvet quality to it, which fits the night perfectly. Ev closes her eyes and thinks that maybe if she asked Valerius, as that favour she got from him, to continue his stories sitting by her bedside, she would finally be able to fall asleep before the sunrise.

[evarcana]

Wine and affection 💕 Ev x Valerius

I was blessed with the commission from incredibly talented @miel-1411 . Thank you again for being so kind and patient <3

I mean, just look how beautiful it is 😭😭😭 I look at all the details, the light and the shades.... and seriously want to cry.

[evarcana]

Taking it out on you

Ev attends the court meeting only to learn that sometimes the second impressions are just as bad as the first ones.

characters: Ev Panopolis, consul Valerius and brief appearance of Volta

words: ~3k

warnings: alcohol (as expected)

notes: On some point I gave up on the idea of Ev being the apprentice, as she just does not have this "MC energy". So this is an introduction to her story, because there is no better way to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of this blog than to remember that a very long time ago I used to write fanfiction.

It has been almost a month already. Almost a month since she came to Vesuvia, almost a month since she was told that her services were not required here. The thought makes Ev frown, but she keeps a quick pace, the sound of her impatient steps on the marble floor echoing through the palace corridor.

It is just before eleven o’clock, and the last of crisp morning sun pours over the rich mauve of lustrous silk drapes and the gold leaf of intricately carved murals, drawing out the warm scent of orange blossom and beeswax from the polished panels of precious wood. Vesuvian palace is exactly what she was promised - a great wonder, and yet Ev doubts it could give any lesser impression while the backdrop to its striking opulence is the city torn apart by disease and grief.

There are no servants or visitors in sight, and Ev’s only company in this seemingly endless corridor are paintings on the walls, depicting what she can only guess are some of the proud moments of Vesuvian history - people and places so foreign to her.

She does simple math in her head: two months and two days ago she was marching down the corridor of a very different palace, eager to be on time for the meeting with Crown Princess Nafizah despite the quite literal last minute notice, and not knowing yet that she was about to hear details of this so-called diplomatic mission.

Back then it sounded straightforward enough. Prakra couldn’t ignore the news of Count Lucio's tragic death, not least because that meant Princess Nadia, the youngest daughter of the Prakran royal family, was left widowed and with the daunting task of handling the red plague epidemic in Vesuvia all on her own. Any ruler could do with an extra pair of hands and any country could benefit from the alliance with Prakra, especially in times of crisis like this. And it would have stayed straightforward if only the discovery of Countess Nadia’s mysterious illness and the unexpected, unreasonable, outrageous hostility of Vesuvian court did not bring this crisis to the whole new, now personal, level.

In theory, Ev did not have to deal with any of that. She could use the excuse that it was only appropriate to deliver such unsettling news about Nadia in person, go back and forget everything that happened in this palace like one of those unpleasantly bizarre dreams you get after a night of drinking. But Vesuvia was still the city Prakra cared about, Nadia’s city, and as far as Ev knew none of the people who came to be in charge of it were appointed by her. Prakran diplomatic presence was perhaps the only way to look after Nadia’s interests until she woke up. Even if Ev had no actual power over the court, returning to Prakra without accomplishing at least something felt like a failure, and failure has never been an option for Ev. With that in mind, she pressed the seal with enough force to imprint Prakran royal crest on the desk and not just on the drop of red wax marking the envelope, and stayed.

Now, after a month of living in the city, she has learned to see that there is more to her new role than just misfortunes. Her relocation allowance is generous, her new place is nicer than what she had in Prakra and she is getting rather used to the convenience of the wine shop next door. Even if parts of it are foreign and unwelcoming, Ev feels at ease in Vesuvia. The tension in her body relaxes, and she thinks maybe this palace can eventually get used to her too, but the thought faints away as soon as she sees the salon door. Ev presses a pile of papers closer to her chest and tells herself that she can think about everything else another time - the court meeting is about to start.

She pushes the door open but immediately freezes on the spot stricken by the gagging wave of nausea - nails dirty with soil and blood, sickly sweet buttercream pastries and rustle of feathers covered in mud. It is no more than a faint impression but even through the fogged mind Ev recognises the feeling - it is vestige, the afterimage of magic. She has felt it before, many times and in many different forms but never has it made her feel physically sick. What is even more unusual is that such a revolting sensation is coming from the palace quarters. One would expect tingles of bubbles from the charmed fountains of never ending sparkling wine or at least the impression of whispers, premium tea, treacle and bitter ambition from the walls which have been magically given ears, and not... whatever this is. Ev draws a deep breath, pushing down into her diaphragm and looks around the room. The salon is not set up for the court meeting, instead there is a tray of food and stacks of empty plates towering on almost every flat surface. Her eyes stop on greasy remains looking terribly out of place on the delicate porcelain plate and she unconsciously covers her mouth. Maybe she is mistaken after all - it is the strange smell of food and not some kind of creepy magic, and, more importantly, maybe this is not the salon she was looking for.

Before Ev gets a chance to mentally blame the chamberlain for giving her the wrong directions, a tiny figure appears from behind the chair. The white cornette is instantly recognisable and Ev is about to ask procurator Volta whether she is here for the court meeting too when she sees that behind the commotion of dark robes Volta is frantically trying to push the whole roast rack of lamb down her mouth. Dear gods. Somewhat unsurprisingly, one of the bones appears to be stuck. Clearly having not expected to have an audience, the procurator widens her eyes at Ev in a mixture of terror and shame. Unable to speak, after a few incoherent squeaks, she throws her tiny hands in the air helplessly, spattering herself with gravy and gestures to the open French doors leading to the balcony. Without giving it too much thought, Ev gives Volta a quick nod and takes an opportunity to escape the awkwardness of the scene.

Wrapped in the soft shade of the balcony, consul Valerius is casually leaning back in the chair, with the usual glass of wine in his hand. Even before she reaches the doors, Ev sets her eyes on his face. The consul is looking away, his face carved and unmovable, the tight knot of dark eyebrows making him look ireful and disgruntled, like one of those statues of stern gods she saw growing up in Zadith. Her next step lands much quieter and then, there steps in, Ev stops and stands very still wondering what thoughts could possibly bring this storm to Valerius’s face. Sun would suit him much more, she thinks, her eyes curiously trailing down the golden glints of his hair.

A loud snort catches Ev off guard and she realises that Valerius is now facing her, looking considerably more displeased than before, no doubt because of her. That’s more like it. How could she forget that this man is the very cause of her problems.

“Could I please have some of your time, consul?” she asks, heading straight towards him. Greetings seem excessive, they didn’t necessarily part on friendly terms last time.

“I didn't expect to see you here again.”

Ev allows herself a smirk. “I know.” I am not here to do what you expect from me. She stops inches away from his chair looking down at him, apparently enjoying the close proximity which, considering their formal relationship and the consul’s well known bad temper, could be regarded as both highly inappropriate and potentially reckless. But Valerius only turns away, more interested in his drink than in her.

“I have been studying the treasury records,” she continues, searching his face for any kind of reaction. His lips curl up in a sneer as he takes a sip of wine, but his eyes are still firmly fixed on the horizon. Ev follows his gaze expecting to see some radical change to the surrounding landscape, but there is only faint outline of the city roofs behind the lush green of the palace's vast grounds, - no columns of smoke, no ominous looking storm clouds gathering in the distance, nothing that could possibly be more interesting than her. Whatever. “Your tax system - ,” she hands Valerius neatly arranged papers, which he completely ignores,“- it is not working.”

“Vesuvian tax system remained largely unchanged for the last two generations, this is how these matters are handled traditionally,” says Valerius, once again denying Ev courtesy of eye contact.

Ev’s mouth twists at the sound of the last words. Too worried the conservative mindset might be contagious, she quickly withdraws her hand and takes a step back.

“I trust you understand that sometimes one should focus on what works, and not what is traditional,” she says, doing her best to disguise the growing irritation. “You don’t attract nearly as much foreign trade as you used to.”

What comes next is a very profound, uncomfortable silence. Ev sighs.

“Consul, you had plague in the city, people died,” her voice is louder now, “lots of people died”, and the irritation is obvious. “And Vesuvia cannot exist without its people. Somebody needs to bring food from the farmlands, make clothes, teach children, attend to the sick. Yes, in the past you could always import whatever you did not have but now people are scared to come because of the plague. You -”, she pauses in anticipation noticing Valerius shifting in his seat, but he only reaches for the bottle to top up his glass, “- you need to do something to make it attractive for them again. Lower the customs, lift the taxes for people whose skills you need, sell empty real estate cheap. There is plenty all around the city!”

Deep down Ev knows that none of these is going to work long term, but she doesn't care - she wants to do something and she wants to do it now.

Yet, nothing changes. She is still standing there, and he is still looking away. Ev would prefer him to disagree, start arguing with her - anything really, as long as it breaks this silence.

“Fine! If you don’t feel like changing this traditional system of yours, even temporarily, at least fix your mistakes.” Ev starts chaotically flipping through the papers searching for the one she needs, which would be a much easier task, if she was less flurried and if Valerius offered her a seat. She wonders whether he is now watching her, sneering at her struggle. “Your approved accounts, here,” this time she brusquely puts the paper in front of Valerius’s face blocking his view, “your numbers do not even add up! ”

For a split second she sees something on his face - a twitch, a flick of rage, and thinks that she has gone too far. But his question comes out in a calm, almost disinterested tone: “What makes you think that somebody like you is even qualified to check the city’s budget approved by the esteemed procurator Volta?”

A moment passes before Ev is able to break from staring at Valerius in disbelief. She glances to the salon where, judging by the sound, Volta has freed her mouth only to move to the next dish. Seriously? Perhaps she should be impressed that he managed to say it with the straight face.

And then there is a chilling sensation at the pit of Ev’s stomach. She asks herself what is going on here? What is this city under the reign of a person who questions everything and everyone except the obvious mistake in the accounts? And what is she - ? Angry, she reminds herself, is what she is, and throws a look at Valerius, who is taking another sip from his glass as in triumph. You don’t need to be qualified, you just need to have common sense. And you, Valerius, either don’t have it or you were not even bothered to look at what your court approves.

She pictures him lazily drinking wine, legs on the desk, his shirt unbuttoned, while completely ignoring his state duties. The image is irritating and yet not entirely unpleasant.

“We both know that I come from a family of alchemists and merchants. Trust me, I know how to count,” she says with a smile. It sounded right in her head, a ridiculous answer to the ridiculous question.

“I thought that during our last meeting you said that you had nothing to do with your witchcraft family.” A perfectly raised eyebrow, and that infuriating smirk.

Ev opens her mouth in protest but gives up quickly. Those were her exact words after all, save for the witchcraft part.

She begins to pace around the balcony avoiding looking at Valerius as much as possible. The consul clearly has a way of getting on her nerves, and she needs all her concentration if she wants to explain what exactly will happen to this goddamn city if they carry on with this approved budget.

“Think about the consequences for the people if this mistake is not corrected!” she shouts, her voice much louder than she would like it to be, and quickly turns to Valerius expecting a blowback. But the pale eyes are looking down, studying something on the floor, or on the edge of the fabric of her long sleeve, she really can’t tell. Oh gods, he is not even paying attention.

***

Valerius has firmly decided that he is not going to pay any attention.

The time of plague was exhausting: the palace suddenly full of people of all kinds and intentions promising to find a cure, pleas for help on the streets which he could not escape even behind the doors of the most expensive carriages, the count who was growing more desperate everyday and the white smoke of the Lazaret carried by the sea breeze towards the city, the memory of which still haunts him. And now there is the Satrinavas’ new pet here having an audacity to talk about his city’s problems - the problems which, out of all people, he should know the most about, he is the consul after all, and a Vesuvian.

Vesuvia he inherited is haggard and sad, and on top of that an enormous responsibility. The last thing he needs is a stranger questioning his authority, as if the incompetent court and the city demanding their beloved countess back have not been tiresome enough. Valerius lets out a short, barely audible sigh. He just wants this farce to be over so he can go back to thinking.

But the witch is not planning to stop, if anything she seems to be enjoying it. Look at her. Absorbed by herself and her ludicrous ideas, she is loud and talks too much with her hands. Her dress keeps slipping down the shoulder draping around the soft curve of a half barred breast every time she does one of these unnecessary, overconfident gestures. Valerius has absolutely no idea whether this is deliberate or she is simply unaware of the indecency which keeps drawing his eyes.

He tries to distract himself by taking a drink of wine only to discover that his glass, just like the air around him, is full of this loud perfume of hers. Harsh cinnamon, incense and patchouli, very much alike their owner, have no concept of the personal space ruining the perfect balance of his red. The wine is not helping. He catches himself looking at the shoulder again. In fact, absolutely useless. He sets his unfinished glass aside on the small table. Valerius has had enough.

***

“Enough!” Valerius shouts. His voice is suddenly deep and rather forceful and Ev hates that it has the desired effect on her. She stops and looks at him. “You were not invited to the court meeting.” The consul’s face looks awfully angry now.

Ev narrows her eyes. “And what exactly are you doing at your court meeting?”

“That should not be a concern of the Prakran subject”, Valerius says, his words dripping with poison, “or whoever you are.”

“I am a diplomatic emissary -,” she does not get a chance to finish.

“Leave!”

Ev wants to scream and protest, but even she knows better than to yell at somebody who outranked her. She draws a breath. One, two, three. All right.

“I only came to give you the papers”, she says coldly, her eyes still locked on his, and leans forward to place the documents on the table. “But I am taking this away, one should work without the distraction of wine.”

With these words Ev snatches the glass from the table, turns away and heads toward the exit as fast as she can without breaking into running. She does not want to look like she is scared that Valerius will grab her by the arm. If anything she is slightly disappointed that he doesn’t.

“My regards to the court,” she raises her hand and waves the glass in the air without looking back. Behind her there is a sound of paper being torn apart.

***

Ev only slows down when she reaches the main staircase.

Suddenly feeling very tired, she leans against the handrail. Again, what is she doing here? Why did she need to turn up in person when she could send a letter? Ev closes her eyes and rubs her fingers together as if feeling for answers in the whorls of her own skin, and remembers about the glass in her hand. Another bad decision. It would have been wiser to take the bottle.

She raises the glass to her lips and breathes in the wine. It’s pleasant. Perhaps she would prefer its company to the boring palace affairs too. Ev twists the glass in her hand, eying the smooth rim before drawing one long sip. It leaves a blush mark of her lips firmly planted on the surface which she studies for a few seconds. “You better be as angry as I am now”, she says to the dark liquid at the bottom of the glass.

[evarcana]

Get Your Act Together

Ev changes her plans for the evening and goes to the theatre.

words: ~3,2k

warnings: mentions strangling but it is not what you think it is.

notes: I don’t want to commit to calling it Chapter II but this fic takes place not long after these events, and really is just silly.

“No, seriously, at first I thought it was just people talking but the idiot really never parts with his wine glass,” says Ev and reclines in the chair, exhausted by her own dramatic tone. She throws her head backwards, the dark hair, colour of burned bronze, falling down in soft glistering waves followed by the drapes of her silk jacket, and drags both hands across the face with a sigh, trying to wipe away the apparent annoyance, but the creases between her brows are too stubborn and she decides to hide it instead, burying her face under the shadows of her palms. “Ignorant alcoholic,” she hisses through her fingers.

Ev is sitting in the sun outside of the wine merchant at the narrow cobbled street conveniently tucked away between the hustle and bustle of the Main Square and the glamour of the Heart District. Back in the Prakran capital the street so central would be full of people running errands and the neighbours talking in front of the doors despite the afternoon heat and humidity but here the only signs of life at four o'clock are languid piano exercises played somewhere behind the closed shatters and the faint but energetic drumbeat of the carriage passing in the distance.

“So what happened?” A young woman with eyes which are lighter than the sky sets a jug of rosemary lemonade and a glass on Ev’s table and looks down at her, pressing the tray against the black apron decorated with the embroidered grapevines.

Ev lifts her hands an inch and peeks at the woman from the shadows, her eyes narrowed and gleaming with anger. “He kicked me out,” she states flatly.

“Why?”, the woman in black apron asks somewhat wearly and turns to the shop’s entrance where a small jar of paint and a brush are waiting on the tea towel covering the stone step below the door. The paint on the brush is the same deep burgundy as the woman’s shirt.

Ev considers meeting Anais to be her only luck in Vesuvia. Not only does she run the excellent wine shop which also functions as a small bar but she is living in the flat above it and seems to be permanently bored and ready to entertain Ev with some gossip and tips about the city, which makes her a perfect neighbour for somebody who has just moved to the new place completely alone.

Ev’s nose wrinkles at the sharp smell of paint as she watches Anais dipping her brush in the jar. “I made one of those little dolls which they use for cursing people up North and brought it to the palace,” she says. It had a little braid made from silk and wool threads and Ev painted its face with the thinnest makeup brush she could find in her vanity table. Ev smiles to herself thinking that it was the most crafty thing she has done since she was thirteen but notices Anais staring at her with the expression of the person questioning somebody’s sanity, and quickly raises her hands defensively, palms up. “Listen, I am not proud of that.”

Anais rolls her eyes good-humouredly and for a few minutes they both watch the brush moving rhythmically tracing precise lines on the wooden door frame in silence, before Anais turns to Ev again. “Didn’t it happen on Tuesday too?”

“Kicking out?”, Ev responds without lifting her eyes from the jug of lemonade, “it did”. She is busy poking slices of orange with a rosemary stem.

Anais watches Ev’s face, clearly expecting her to continue. But she does not. The silence between them is interrupted only by clicking of the ice cubes against the glass. Anais tilts her head to the side and says in a careful tone, “But you seem to be more angry today.”

Ev stabs the slice of blood orange she fished out to the liquid’s surface and it splatters the sour juice and bitter oils which make her eyes stink. She blinks a few times and gives the orrange a disapproving frown. “He called the guards,” she says. Her juvenile prank got out of hand. She definitely is not proud.

“What?” Anais’s voice raises in surprise and her paintbrush makes an uneven stroke which she rushes to cover.

“Yeah, I know.”

“But I don’t understand. Aren’t you a diplomat? They can’t really - “, she pauses thinking of the right word, “- stop you, can they?”

“No, but I can’t necessarily stop him neither”

Anais goes quiet, weighing Ev’s words in her head, while she paints. “So why do you keep on... talking to him?”, she asks finally and waves her brush in the air, “you don’t have to.”

Ev gives her a pointed look and then drops her eyes down, frowning once again. That is a very good question. Why does she keep on talking to him?

For the last few weeks Ev has stuck to the same routine: she comes to the palace daily, enquires a servant politely about the consul’s schedule for the day, finds Valerius, tosses a pile of paper in front of him, takes a seat opposite him and proceeds to picturing herself strangling him. Bare hands. The skin on his neck gets hot and damp with sweat underneath her fingers, his body is struggling against hers while she presses her knee against his chest holding him in place. She squeezes, and squeezes. Sometimes however she would get lost in her own imagination and her hands would slide up, fingers getting buried in the hair, her thumbs tracing delicate lines behind his earlobes. She doesn't know what happens after that, because she guillotines the thought. Those are moments of weakness and are luckily rare. It would be easier if he was ugly, and stupid. But he is pretty much the opposite. Yet another proof that she had no good luck in Vesuvia. After the weakness comes the inevitable irritation, which Valerius seems to sense like a sniffer dog, and before she knows they are engaged in one of their already signature yelling competitions which the servants undoubtedly gossip about in the corridors and kitchens. Ev would be surprised if the whole Vesuvia is not calling her a madwoman by now. Her only hope being that they think even worse things of their consul.

Hating someone is exhausting. Every interaction makes Ev’s blood boil, and her heart beat heavy and bright. Her mind does strange things and she honestly does not remember the last time she thought about something other than making Valerius do what she wants for longer than an hour. She wastes precious minutes of her life on someone who genuinely despises her.

She wishes he did not despise her though. She wishes that there was more to him than being prickish, judgemental asshole, then perhaps this whole thing could be just about bearable. That is why she keeps on talking to him. But Ev cannot tell Anais that because it is the same as admitting that she has lost and that he has won, so she huffs irritably and says “Because it is my job, why else” instead.

“Good to know that you are both as stubborn as mules.” Anais grew up at her parents’ vineyard in the rural part of Venterre and except the times when she talks about wine all her comparisons are based on farm animals and other attributes of country life.

Ev folds her arms. “I don’t think you know me well enough to say that.” Despite whatever is happening in her imagination in the moments of weakness, the idea of having something in common with Valerius, not only an asshole but the surliest man alive, makes her feel irrationally violent.

Anais only hums something to herself. “Anyway, no more of this talk, what are your plans for tonight?” she asks Ev with the trained cheerfulness of a person chatting to customers daily, “You know we are not opening tonight”, she adds, now sounding more concerned than cheerful.

“Because you are going on your adventure date with Theresa and your brother has not come back yet.” Ev waves her hand, “I remember.” She thinks of all the unopened letters on her desk at home and some notes she managed to scoop in her bag from Valerius’s desk in the palace, the risky act which would probably earn her another look from Anais, and adds, “just working”

“Why don’t you go to the theatre? The Goldgrave is doing their first performance since the plague. I think you should still be able to get the ticket at the door.” Anais wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, still holding the brush. “Actually, the guy who runs the show is Theresa’s neighbour, I will have a word with him. I am sure he will let you in for free if you promise to write a review.”

“Why would he want my review?”

“Oh come on! One of the Prakran dignitaries attends their humble performance, that’s like the most international exposure they have ever had!”

“Fine,” Ev says sceptically.

***

The man at the entrance didn’t lie about all the tickets being sold out, the small theatre is full and buzzes with anticipation. Ev had to endure a small torture of exchanging pleasantries with the overexcited theatre director and at least a dozen of guests, who all seems to know Anais and each other, after she introduced herself. But it all paid off and she is now sitting in the three-seat box closest to the stage, probably the most expensive seats in the whole of the theatre.

Ev eyes an empty seat to the far left. The seat next to her is taken by the old lady wearing simple but tasteful clothes and wrapped in the wooly shawl. She smells of the lily-of-the-valley perfume and apple pie. “Excuse me, are you expecting someone? I think the lights are about to go down”, Ev asks, giving the old lady a soft smile.

“Oh no, darling, I am here to watch my husband perform on stage.” She sounds proud. Ev tries to recall the last time somebody called her darling.

“That is really sweet, he must be thrilled to have you here,” she says, and the kindness in her voice is genuine. Ev finds her new neighbour positively charming, in a way only the older generation can be.

“And what is such a lovely young lady doing in the theatre alone?”

Ev shrugs her shoulders playfully. “I am here to keep you company. You have to tell me when your husband comes on stage,” Ev says, returning the smile.

The old lady covers her mouth and her laugh sounds youthful and bright. She is delighted at their little exchange.

That’s it, most people do like me.

The lights dim and just before the performance is about to begin, the curtain behind Ev’s seat moves letting the beam of light in the box and a dark figure walks in. A man, Ev thinks, who appears to be nicely proportioned. She watches temper and agitation in his movement, as he takes his seat silently. Ev thinks about her peculiar company for tonight, as the boxes are usually reserved by the group of guests. Is he here to watch his loved one too? Could he be from the newspaper?

The old lady nudges Ev’s elbow excitedly.

***

Ev has seen this play before. It is a story of the marriage proposal, full of humorous fights between the groom-to-be and his bride. The sweet old lady’s husband plays the father. He is a tall man with fluffy moustache (although those might be fake, you never know in the theatre) and genuine comedic talent. She wonders whether there is an apple pie waiting for him at home. Even through the dark Ev can see the lady looking lovingly at her husband.

Something makes Ev feel strangely out of place here. She bites the tip of her thumb lightly and replays the events of the day, remembering the old lady’s question from before and Anais asking about her plans. Her mind continues wondering and Ev catches herself thinking about what Valerius is doing tonight. The thought makes her stomach twist. Crying himself to sleep, hopefully.

She leans forwards to take a discreet look to her left, hoping to get a better view of the stranger’s face. He is hidden by shadows but the outline of his profile certainly makes her want to see more - high cheekbones, slightly convex nose and angular jaw, query full lips. He looks familiar.

Ev is now leaning so far forward her elbows are pressed on her knees, squinting and trying to recall where she might have seen this profile. She hears the old lady clearing her throat politely, and retreats, reminded of the theatre etiquette. Maybe it is nothing and he is just her type. She has been so busy recently, making plans only to watch them being discarded, thorn to shreds and thrown away, and so consumed by her anger, she did not really pay attention to the other people around. This feels nice and refreshing.

The curtain closes and the audience stands up to applaud. Ev shoots another look at the stranger. Beautiful posture, gloved hands, oh, mysterious. Maybe it would be nice to have plans with somebody like him. Before she can build up excitement about the lights coming up, the mysterious stranger turns around abruptly and disappears behind the curtain. All Ev sees is the flash of white light before her eyes, as empty and boring as her cold sheets back at home. She gets off her seat and runs after him. Maybe she is a madwoman after all. She does not have any plan, frankly, she doesn't even know why she is doing this, so she decides to go for the most obvious thing - she reaches the man’s shoulder from behind and places her hand as softly as she can considering her rush. “Ah excuse me -”, she says slightly breathy, “have we met before?”

The man turns and the disappointment that Ev experiences the very second she sees his face can only be compared to one of a child who unwraps the present only to find out that it is the older sibling’s jumper, in the child’s least favourite colour, the very same jumper the sibling was wearing the day they broke the child’s toy, most definitely on purpose. Ev is sure that she has seen other men in this city but apparently she is that unlucky.

“You,” says Valerius, baring his teeth. His eyes are slits of hatred, like he is contemplating ripping the skin off her. Ev can relate. She wants to punch him in the face. Ev clenches her jaw thinking about all the insults that he is about to throw her way.

“Consul,” she says in her best theatrical tone.

Valerius glances over his shoulder immediately, eyes wide. He does not respond, frantically scoping the corridor, which is starting to fill in with guests. Ev watches his expression and to her surprise there is no usual arrogance in it. This is unlike him. The moment draws her attention to what the consul is wearing - dark navy fitted coat, with discreet design, his long hair tucked in its high collar, cravat, high boots, gloved hands. Very unlike him. Ev studies him more carefully. There is no wine glass. This is getting disturbing.

“Are you incognito or something?”, she asks, snorting with amusement.

“None of your business”, Valerius spits. He reddens a little straight away and throws more nervous glances to his surroundings.

Oh. Tension. This is awkward, and juicy. Ev’s curiosity is officially piqued. The sight of Valerius’s discomfort is revitalising. She can feel blood pumping through her body and there is sparkle in her eyes. She smirks at him, even though he studiously avoids her gaze. Sensing the tiny hint of vulnerability just at the edges of his expression, she locks her arms around his and with the push of her hip turns them both away from the building crowd of chatting guests. “So you are incognito.” Ev really can't hide her excitement.

Both his eyebrows ratchet up, and Valerius opens his mouth as his eyes go wild, but he does not seem to be able to say a word. This is wonderful. A sensation of pure elation floods Ev. She has been dreaming about this day. She presses her body closer to Valerius and sinks her nails into his arm, like a cat toying with prey. She is thinking about this new power she has got.

Valerius looks down at Ev. “Your face looks… filthy”, he says and tries to shake her off. “Let me go. Now”

“No way. You can try screaming for help if you want.” This is the first time Ev has got the upper hand, and however little, she is not letting this opportunity slip.

“You are insane.” Valerius pulls his arm closer to his body, protectively.

Ev ignores him, right now she is busy thinking. “I know!”

“That you are insane?”

“You are stingy,” Ev says with the look of triumph in her eyes.

“What?!”

“Look, there is only one explanation. You came to the theatre once, they asked you for donations because everybody knows you are filthy rich but you refused, again and again, and now you are hiding. ”

“It is not the case.” Valerius makes another attempt to shake her off, but the sight of the theatre director walking their way through the crowd makes him stop. He turns away.

“So explain yourself then, dear consul”, Ev whispers in his ear, her voice full of venom. The group of guests walks right past them without giving them any attention. They must look like a couple, Ev realises, and eases her grip on his arm.

“No,” Valerius says sternly.

Ev stares at him for a moment, considering her options. “Fine, but you owe me”, she says simply.

“I owe you nothing”, he barks back.

“You know I am going to make a scene, maybe even mention you in the review which I kindly agreed to write for the local newspaper”

Valerius’s mouth twitches once and Ev can almost hear him gritting his teeth. At least, the man knows how the gossip works. “What do you want? How much?” The look he gives Ev is both smug and irritated.

“You are not the only one with the money here”, she makes her voice sound bored. It’s not the first Ev’s negotiation.

“I won’t ask you again, witch.” His voice is rough with anger but he bites it quicker than she expected.

“We can discuss tomorrow. I promise, it is just a small favour.”

Valerius does not say anything. He rubs the bridge of his nose and turns towards the exit, forgetting that Ev is still hanging on his arm.

“So, you like theatre?” she asks curiously as they leave together.

[evarcana]

Guess who decided to be closer to the masses diversify and got spotify? All so you can listen to 1,5 hours of my self indulgence

Ev x Valerius playlist

[evarcana]

I’m not sure if you’ve done this for them yet, but a moodboard for either a date night or even the masquerade night for Ev and Valerius 👀

Thank you! ❤️

Ev x Valerius (masquerade edition)

[evarcana]

1, 9 & 11 from the OTP asks for the fancy couple, please and thank you 😌 —leila-of-ravens

Aaaaaww no, thank YOU for asking! 💕💕💕

1 (first impressions) is here

9. What made them realize they were in love?

Ev is fast moving and perceives her own feelings very black and white, so she falls in love quick and doesn’t second guess it. As much as she wanted to think that Valerius was “an arsehole who happened to be hot”, it was clearly more like “my arsehole”. Valerius had his bad temper, it was not clear who he cared about but it clearly was not her, but Ev still couldn’t bring herself to dislike him - she wanted to know more about him, to see whether that frown would smooth with a touch, which was completely illogical and therefore could only mean one thing.

Valerius is a more complicated story. He was noticing lots of things, but managed to find other explanations for them fairly well until he noticed that he cared about Ev’s feelings: that smile covered by the palm of her hand was oddly satisfying and it oddly hurt when she suddenly turned quite and her eyes were loosing focus. Not like he had never come up with the ridiculous explanations for what was happening between them before, but it reached the point when it would be too ridiculous. Even Valerius can join the dots, give in and be honest with himself sometimes.

11. Do they get married? Who proposes and how?

Hell yes.

I actually have not thought much about the proposal before, so consider this concept:

Even if Valerius is the first one to confess some kind of feelings, Ev is the first one to say “I love you” and there is considerable time gap between the two. When she tells it to him, Valerius freaks out and does not respond on the spot. He has to process what that meant and the implications of it. With the thought process comes the realisation that there was nothing stopping him from saying it back, he messed up. Thinking of Ev probably being angry or upset or most likely both, he had to think carefully about the next thing to do - and having thought through all the implications and being traditional, he decides to propose. Risky but felt like a right thing to do for him and would explain the delay.

He arranges a trip to his vineyard (of course Valerius owns a vineyard or two, even if it’s not part of the family estate, the tax payers’ money had to go somewhere). He waits till the day is coming to it’s end, he knows that Ev will comment on how lovely it is there, especially if they enjoy the view from the terrace. And this is he clears his throat and manages something like “would you like to share it all with me?”, hoping that the blushy face and golden hour would do the rest and add the context. It didn’t. He kind of suspected that it might not be that easy. He sighs but gets down on one knee and pulls the ring out. Luckily, he knew what to say and even better that it didn’t come to the poetry citation.

Ev is terribly embarrassed of her tears and ‘yes’ that came out too quick, it would be more reasonable if she took time to think about it. That pleased Valerius’s ego big time though, even 10 seconds of fearing rejection would be painful.

The gemstone in ring is red “for all the wine spilled”, he would later tell her.

[evarcana]

I know I am late but here we go🤣

Ev’s image from the picrew.

[evarcana]

Hi can I request a very indulgent EvXValerius mood board to go with your most recent playlist si vous plait Love u Misery xoxo

Aaaaaaaah💕

Ev x Valerius Aesthetics

[evarcana]

Omg what an amazing set of prompts! If I am not being greedy by asking for 2 I would loose to see 🔮 for Ev and 🦥 for Ev and Valerius

🤍🤍🤍

Haha not greedy!

🔮 is here

Lazy Day

[evarcana]

1 4 and 12 > Ev and Valerius

Thank you for asking !💕💕💕

1. What was their first impression of each other?

I can’t imagine Valerius giving much thought to people around him at the time they met, he was too preoccupied by his shady deals and plans and too tense. To him Ev was simply something he didn’t want to deal with, a nuisance to his plans. He thought she was stubborn and assertive and unfortunately intelligent enough to keep her composure, and it all annoyed him even more. Somehow she wasn’t what he expected to see. But if she was as reasonable as she seemed, he thought, she would make a reasonable decision to stay away from whatever was happening in the palace, and was mistaken. Did he think she was attractive? Only if subconsciously but in annoying kind of way.

Ev’s first impression was...well she was impressed. Valerius was confident and handsome, looked like a capable and intelligent man and that cold look in his eyes was heart-stopping. Her mind definitely wondered all sorts of places up until Valerius showed his arrogance. For Ev it meant he somehow decided on her being stupid and unworthy. And since she strongly believes that you should reciprocate negative opinions rather than be upset about them (and if there is one thing she cannot take, it’s insults to her intelligence), the conclusion was that she was “...not the first or the last one to fall for an arsehole”.

4. What was their relationship like before they got together?

Let’s just say that they never had a point when they would call each other friends. It started fights because each one of them thought that they can make another do what they want. For Valerius it was making Ev leave the palace or leave her ideas of changing things. Ev wanted to be right and Valerius to admit it, and at least partly for him to be impressed. But if you are two scorpios, horn locking is your bonding exercise.

12. What would happen if they never met?

I don’t think that Ev would ever be able to settle in one place and get attached to something. If she didn’t not move from Prakra to Vesuvia, she would move elsewhere, and if she moved to Vesuvia and didn’t meet Valerius, she would eventually move on. She is too excited by what she sees as new challenges and opportunities and decides on things way too quick. For her personal life, who knows, she would most definitely meet somebody else but unless that somebody is intense, stubborn and dedicated it might not last long term.

What would happen with Valerius... He is pretty static, so his life probably wouldn’t change that much... more questionable decisions for sure.