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Thread: [M] War and Peace ~ Breggo and Hannelorian [IC]

  1. #21
    Little ball of fire
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    Alistair was fuming, his eyes taking on a hardness and determination that sent people scattering in his way as he strode by, jumping to the sides on instinct alone even as they wondered why the foreigner - and a simple soldier at that - left them feeling so small and insignificant. The girl had nerve, he would give her that, but it did not mean he was about to bare his soul and history for her to dissect and find him wanting. If Saskia Castravet wanted to play the hero through her sacrificial marriage to him, she was indeed going to find another way. He was not about to bring this sacrificial lamb into the capital unless he expected his opponents to die of laughter while he spent valuable resources protecting her as her empress. And while she had diplomatic skill, the court of Argent was much different to the wasp's nest Alistair inherited.

    The empress position was as much a death sentence as it was a priviledge - the only question was who would be the victim. If Alistair bound himself to a weak woman or one who could be moved to act through different leverages, one who could be turned against him, he was doomed. There would be no way to escape such a union or to protect the interest of the empire when she could not fight back on her own. Regardless of the inner turmoil, Alister would be needed on the battlefront come Spring which meant leaving the governance and politics to his wife. That he would be married before the snow melted was certain even if he hated the very notion. If his wife was too willful and unable to yield when it was absolutely necessary without breaking, if she did not trust him, he would be a widower faster than one could say ‘long live the empress’. And if the princess of Lys was not perfect for this role, he was simply wasting time.in

    “We're leaving,” Alistair growled, slamming the door to Riddle's apartments with enough force that the diplomat, peacefully relaxing before the fire with a glass of brandy, jumped a good meter up, the amber liquid spilling in thick drops on the wooden floor. In the neighboring chair, Sir Keith turned to look at the younger man with a raised eyebrow, a glass of his own apperative in hand.

    “Sir Alexander!” Riddle exclaimed with a hasty bow before pulling out his handkerchief to wipe away some drops off his tunic. “May I enquire as to the haste with which we abandon our diplomatic mission that you, I dare say, defined as one of the upmost importance?’

    “Does it matter?” Alistair crossed his arms over his chest. “The arrangement won't benefit the Empire as you had pointed out yourself.”

    “Is it safe to assume that you have met the Princess Royal milord?” Keith smoothed out his mustache, his voice a soft contrast to both his companions. Alaric's glare only made his smile grow.

    “Assumptions get men killed,” Alistair shot back. “Do you forget who you are talking to?”

    “Your own hasty actions will get us killed,” Riddle seemed to be talking primarily to the knight commander in the chair than the fuming man standing up. “We arrive here with the desire to negotiate the treaty and retain the peace only to leave in the middle of the night like thieves. It will put the Empire's strength, resolve and goodwill at risk. There would be declarations of war before we reached the border, a war that our emperor explicitly said he cannot afford. In the case that Sir Alexander met with the Princess Royal and has finally come to the agreement that a marriage would not benefit the Empire, we cannot just leave. We need to provide adequate reasoning and ensure peace without the arrangement.”

    “He's right,” Keith took a sip of the brandy. “Even if you do not care for the song-and-dance of the politics, think of the men and horses. We pushed them hard today, they need the rest and comfort to be in any condition to leave.”

    “So you suggest we stay here?” Alistair's temper was starting to be reined in, his mind listening to what the older men had to say.

    “I suggest we attend the banquet and allow Riddle to do his job,” the Knight Commander nodded in the diplomat's direction, “Let the men rest. A small group can leave tomorrow.”

    “That would be best,” Riddle agreed before downing his drink.”Come Sir Alexander, let's get this night over with.”

    They were right which irked Alistair more than he let on and did absolutely nothing to improve his mood. The finer games of politics and foreign affairs were new to him, often unattainable, He had pushed the delegation, threatened and instilled fear because he knew it was risky to leave Asterios for long - rumors and coups were the least of his worries. Appearing weak and galavanting around the country would only weaken his position further. He was needed by his people and his loyal men who were struggling on his behalf thus a part of him was relieved that he met the Princess Royal alone early for it meant that he was able to pass his judgment. He had not accounted for the time Riddle would need to make the deligation and negotiations appear urgent, logical and reaffirm Asterios’ position in the mind of the young prince. Leaving within a day would mean a declaration of war which would encourage coalitions and collaborations among his enemies. His resources were already spread way too thin, his demand pushing men to their limits. He could not ask them for more.

    The men led the way through the halls, following a young page while Alistair strode behind them, his mind trying to rationalize his own response. The princess of Lys was an interesting woman, that was certain, but he couldn't afford to bet his life on simply being interesting. Many said he ruled by fear and perhaps they were correct. Alistair couldn't afford otherwise, not now when all he could see around him were people wanting power and trying to undermine him at every turn. Every lord in the Empire that had been part of his brother's, or worse his father's, court thought he could bully, push or manipulate him, not about anything important but gauging just how much they could scare, blackmail or undermine him. It was exhausting work to watch his every word and action, something he had never done. In the Flight, all that mattered were your actions - whether you could make the call and stand shoulder to shoulder with your men regardless if he was a noble or a commoner. There was no time for intrigue, no time for grudges.

    As the trio walked into the huge banquet hall, the young man was drawn out of his dark thoughts by the stark difference of Lys’ warmth to the cold splendor of Asterious. The huge hall stood nearly 80 feet tall with stained glass windows depicting scenes of Lys’ history. A fireplace warmed the stone structure, standing behind the main dias where the Prince Regent and his ministers sat. Involuntarily, Alistair found himself trying to find the Princess Royal among the group though the seat for the young woman at her brother's side remained vaccant even as he saw the Prince Guard stride over and whisper something to the young man, both Lys royals turning their heavy gazes in his direction. Exposing his canines in a predatory grin, Alistair turned to observe the rest of the interior. Whatever they were talking about was irrelevant - he could barely be faulted for having a conversation with a woman who could have been his wife. Excluding the kiss of propriety, he hadn’'t even touched her.

    Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the light illuminating long tables on either side of the room seating mostly Lys nobilty and, close to the dias, the Asterian deligation minus the three diplomats - chair for those were reserved at the grand table to the Prince Regent's side. In the corner, a group of musicians was tunning their instruments, the sounds of violins and trumpets echoing across the hall though presently, they were drowned out by the constant chatter among the people presently seated. Servants of all races muddled around, carrying decanters of wine and bowls of water to clean your fingers.

    “Lord Riddle, please,” the prince stood with a goblet in hand, his face a mask of pleasantry. “Come my lord, I would like to toast to the new emperor of Asterios.”

    “Your royal highness,” the diplomat bowed, followed by Sir Keith and with a slight hesitation Alistair himself. “You bring tears of gratitude to my eyes. I beg you hold that toast so that I may add to the King of Lys and his speedy recovery.”

    “Come,” Keith placed a heavy hand on Alistair's shoulder, steering him towards the space the Asterians had left them at the table, ignoring the emperor's shrug and instead squeezing harder. “Riddle is right - stop drawing attention to yourself. Especially now that the prince regent and his brother have noticed your presence. No reason to give them any extra information on your identity.”
    “Hand off my shoulder if you want to keep it,” Alistair responded half-heartedly, sliding into the spot beside Westley. Keith only smirked before moving off to sit further up the table close to the diplomats on the dias as his role dictated.

    “The wine is particularly good this evening,” Westley offered innocently, smiling flirtatiously at one of the woman with a decanater who blushed and made her way over to fill their goblets. Alistair glared at him. “You do know I am a bit of sommelier - I know my wines, Alexander.”

    “Shut up,” the wine was good indeed - think and rich with a beautiful aftertaste of mead and red berries, it was potent enough to envelop Alistair's annoyance into something he could handle. Every sip allowed him to push back the unexpectedly passionate conversation with Saskia to the back of his mind, separating the girl from the potential political figure. He had finally managed to find his thoughts lightening just as the majordome arrived, clearing his throat.

    “Her Royal Highness Princess Saskia, the Princess Royal!”

    The hall seemed to go quiet as all eyes turned to the young woman, chairs and benches pushed back as every man scrambled up from his seat before bowing to the princess as she floated by, Alistair gritting his teeth as he folded himself into the proper form even as his back protested the difference. Beside him, he heard Westley give a low whistle.

    “I thought she was pretty before but Al, she's gorgeous,” his friend's voice held genuine admiration free of his usual carefree boyish charm. Alistair grunted, forced to admit that the man was right. The princess royal was beautiful with the charm, grace and propriety to match. She had commanded the room with her presence alone and changed the atmosphere the second her name echoed across the hall, stealing the away the breath of every bachelor as she made her way to the dias. “Sebastian was a lucky man.”

    “Westley, I swear,” Alistraid growled, sitting down with the rest before reaching for his goblet and downing the rest of the wine as though it was Asterian fire whiskey. Signaling for more, he closed his eyes. “She won't do.”

    “If you are not going to have her Alexander, can I?” Westley's laughing expression only became more amused with Alistair's glare. “God above, you may be right, If you bring her to the capital, I would be worried for the legitimacy of your children.”

    “I would be worried about surviving long enough to have children,” Alistair muttered, turning to the servants carrying in the food. “Pass the pork, will you?”

  2. #22
    The Grey Lady
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    Saskia passed through this room on thousands of occasions, the beauty of this room was second only to the throne room itself which had not been used since the King had taken ill. The Princess seemed as though she were floating, she glided across the room. All eyes were on her and it was in the light limelight that Saskia truly shined. The smile on her face was unparalleled, she was a figure who belonged. A woman who commanded respect and authority. It was no secret to the House of Castravet that the Princess was the most popular member of the royal family. She was beloved, and it was plain to see for every Asterian guest in their court.

    The Princess made several stops on her way to the high table where her brothers and diplomats sat. Standing behind various figures she would rest hands on their shoulders, lean over and join them in conversation briefly, or offering kind words of greeting. She stood up stern and tall and finally took her seat beside Crysos, she turned to him and whispered quietly.

    "I'm sorry that I lost my temper." Saskia looked genuinely concerned and Crysos seemed to smile and nod politely back. Both parties knew they were being watched and thus the expression on her face needed to stay perfect, she would betray nothing of her own feelings. But across the room there he was, that man, that knight. Sir Alexander, seated beside another young man with boyish good lucks and a shit eating grin. There was a light bit of laughter exchanged between the two siblings.

    "Will you make the toast?" Crysos inquired of his sister knowing full well she was a better hostess than he could dream of. His role would be more prominent at the negotiating table, even though he was still unaware that the imperial delegation had already dismissed the prospect of the marriage. "Yes." Saskia replied as she motioned for her goblet to be filled. The Princess took the goblet into her hand and stood, the moment she did people once more fell silent.

    "Good evening." Saskia spoke in a louder voice, one that was serious and stern, perhaps the most she had sounded since this day began. "On behalf of the Kingdom, the Royal House of Castravet and the good people of Lys, we are most delighted to welcome our noble neighbors to our table and within our halls. So let us all raise a glass to our guests. May they enjoy our wine and our hospitality, and may it temper their appetite for war." Saskia bowed her head as she raised the glass into the air.

    "My Lord Riddle, if you would allow me the freedom to address one of your own good men." Saskia turned to the jovial looking man who nodded his head in assent. "I have had the great fortune of meeting one of your Knights this day. Sir Alexander." The Princess had motioned in his general direction sending the eyes of everyone in the room to set upon him. "And while I don't believe for a moment he is who he claims to be, it does appear that he has the strength of character to stand for his convictions. And for that, we welcome the Asterian spirit to our ancient and storied halls. Cheers." Saskia raised the glass as everyone in the room followed and cheered, she took a deep drink from the goblet and sat herself down. She played her hand. "Eat, drink, be merry!" Saskia commanded the crowd as she was met with a thunderous applause from the Lysian court.

    Crysos and Theobald both looked at their sister and laughed lightly. She had spirit, they couldn't deny that. She made her own decisions when she chose to, and no matter what she would stand firm in her own grace.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  3. #23
    Little ball of fire
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    “That little…” Alistair’s eyes narrowed as he listened to the princess’ toast, his eyes darkening to reveal the barely contained rage. Beside him, he heard Westley mutter his own curse before placing a hand on the emperor's shoulder but the man rudely pushed it off. For all his faults, he had never once wanted to raise a hand against a woman that didn't outright threaten his well being or his men, never except now when his mind drew up rather appealing images of his hands tightening around Saskia's delicate pale throat and slowly, methodically squeezing until she rasped for forgiveness.

    “Al, don't, please,” Westley pleaded so only Alistair could hear but Alistair shook his head. Grabbing his goblet at the applause sounded, he slowly rose to his full height, his face scholded into a bemused expression even as his knuckles showed white from the way he gripped the cup. As all eyes turned to him, he let his face transition into a practiced smirk, his eyes meeting the princess’ across the banquet hall. Although appearing bemused, his expression was wild with the elongated canines showing just enough to make him appear dangerous. At his seat, Westley sighed wishfully, most likely saying goodbye to the rich food and preparing for anything that would come.

    “I would like to thank her royal highness,” Alistair raised the glass to emphasize the title, “for her warm words in regards to my humble being. I’d like to put all disillusionments at rest and confirm that Princess Saskia is correct - I came here under false pretenses and a name not fully my own.”

    “You don't say, milord,” he heard Keith's subtle comment behind him but he ignored the man. Around the Astarian side, the men inconspicuously moved so that they could support their sovereign in case of a direct confrontation.

    “I do confess - while I do go under Sir Alexander more often than not,” Alistair ignored the snort that came from Westley, quickly covered by a cough. “And while I hope her royal highness will continue to honor me by referring to me as such from the kindness of her heart, at home I am known as Viscount de Viognier. With the mystery resolved, I thank you all for such a warm welcome for us and I am confident that I speak for all Asterian's when I say we would like to raise a toast for the greatest hostess who made Lys feel like home, her royal highness princess Saskia.”

    Tilting his head in a bow and raising his glass as thunderous applause echoed around the room, Alistair let his smirk fall for a second, his gaze burning into Saskia's face before he slowly brought the wine to his lips. Downing the full glass, he bowed with more flourish that he managed before in their interactions and returned to his seat, ignoring the young woman on the dias. Whatever she thought of herself, he was no one to be trifled with and she would be made aware of it tonight.

    “Your highness, prince regent, I beg you apology for my man's outspoken words,” Lord Riddle turned to Saskia and Crysos, the prince regent watching the figure of the Astarian with a confused, far off expression. “If this was an offense…”

    “Viognier,” Crysos repeated thoughtfully, his eyes getting a far off look as he became lost in thought. “Viscont de Viognier. Hmm, I do not believe I have ever heard the name. Would you care to enlighten me, milord?”

    “Of course,” Riddle bowed his head in acceptance. “Viognier is a small bastion of a city to the north of the Empire. It is such a rundown city that most men, historically, prefered to go by any other title they own. In the case of Sir Alexander, he prefers to emphasize his knighthood over the viscounty, a trait especially popular after the rise of our Emperor Alistair.”

    “He is rather well spoken for a common viscount and soldier,” Theo remarked quietly, his eyes moving from the foreigners to look over at his sister, a silent question in his eyes. Whatever had happened between the two young people, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps it was more than simple propriety.

    “From what I recall, he entered military training young, becoming a page with one of the generals and learning with the man's own sons,” the diplomat ideally touched the corners of his lips with his handkerchief. “Although I always find our military youth are found wanting in more delicate arts of court life. Alas, it is something we try to prevent as much as possible but the younger the warrior, the hotter their blood.”

    Crysos nodded, exchanging a brief look with Theo before turning to the diplomat once again and engaging him in conversations much more pleasant, deciding to leave the matter of one Asterian warrior to rest for the time being.




    “Your royal highness, crown prince, may I ask your sister for a dance?” A few hours later, as the tables were cleared to make way for light delicacies of fruits, cheese and cakes, the wine transitioning to be sweet and flowing, Alister found himself at the dias doing the one thing he never thought he would - asking Saskia to dance. Actually, two things for as he bowed before the young regent, he wondered how badly his ancestors were rolling in their stone graves that the Emperor of Asterios was bowing to anyone at all, let alone a young upstart regent of some small country the empire was about to annex.

    Four pairs of eyes bore down into him even as he straightened, standing at attention and waiting with absolutely no expression on his face. Riddle looked ready to faint, his eyes growing slightly large and his hand tightening over his handkerchief as he looked at Alistair. He had promised the diplomat not to be rash or at least implied but was a dance in full view of all really that out of light? If anything, it should be seen as a sign of Lys and Asterios coming together in peace and prosperity or whatever the trio of men had been discussing, leaving the princess to smile and listen though he had yet to see her talk much.

    The crown prince looked bemused, his eyes filled with curiosity and intrigue as he took in Alister, seeming to evaluate him from top to bottom. Let him, Alister thought with similar amusement. Whenever this man realized who had just bowed before him, he would remember this day for the rest of his life - better that he got all the details correct. The young emperor was not about to back down from his request and while he had contemplated asking the princess direct, she would be much less likely to refuse if her brother had given an explicit blessing. Looking at Crysos, he could see the prince's mind working to build together as full a picture as possible.

    The prince guard on the other hand looked ready to stand up and fight him if his adopted sister made any sign of discomfort. His blue eyes looked onto Alister's frame, evaluating him with a hunter's precision, trying to discern where and how would be the best way to take him down no doubt. Meeting the man's glare with his own bored expression, Alistair turned to Saskia, extending his hand in her direction.

    “Your royal highness, would you do me the great honour of a dance?” his tone remained light but the second his eyes met Saskia's they hardened, a clear translation that this was not a request but an order.

  4. #24
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    The Viscount de Viognier. Saskia's eyes seemed to be sparkling at the revelation and it was with that simple phrase she knew exactly who this man was, and exactly why he was here. The game was over, his cards could no longer be played close to his chest, especially if the young Princess chose to disclose his true identity to her brother who seemed entirely content to listen to Lord Riddle's excuses and explanations. Sebastien had once again saved her, though this time from beyond the grave. The Viscount de Viognier was a minor title that was only accorded to the second sons of the Emperor. And if this was the second son, that could only mean that it was in fact the Emperor himself who stood before them. The Princess smiled and nodded.

    "Now Crysos, let's not give Lord Riddle a hard time. He's only doing his job." Saskia seemed contented for now and she was so inclined to keep the secret to herself, though she had to admit she was now absolutely dying to revisit a conversation with the man. Sebastien had never discussed much about his brother in all the years the couple spent sending letters back and forth to one another. There were hundreds if not thousands of exchanges dating back to her youth. "As for the military youth, well, we do not rely on them for their manners. No offense has been caused this night. You may all relax a bit in your chairs." The Princess was quick to defuse the situation at the high table as the meal was going to continue.

    As the time passed Saskia and her brothers made pleasant conversation with the diplomats. The group appearing to get along rather like a house on fire. Saskia was a natural at her position, she was charming to the last, she never drank too much, and she could listen to any story no matter how boring and still remain perfectly engaged. This was of course how she survived most of her evening with Lord Riddle and his fellow cohort.

    The Princess however, did find herself rather pleasantly surprised when Sir Alexander, as it were, found himself at the high table inviting the young woman to dance. She watched both of her brother's faces. Crysos was evaluating the man like a piece of meat, or perhaps more like a target. He had no idea what to make of this man and if Crysos knew the truth he would fly off the handle in a rage. Theobald on the other hand had his typical look of concern. Theo was ready for a fight, but the Princess simply sat there perfectly calm.

    "Yet another unusual request sir Knight." Saskia finally spoke as she looked at the man, taking him in now in a very different light. Her eyes were bright, beaming, she seemed rather light in her tone, she was being what one could generously describe as playful. "A request which would certainly be refused." Saskia chuckled and raised her hand to her mouth, she was playing with him now. "But as this is a special night, and it is meant to bring our peoples together. I see no harm in a single dance with a handsome Viscount." Saskia nodded in her assent and rose from the table, she took the man's hand and moved toward the center of the room, she could feel him behind her, almost as though he were breathing down her neck.

    "I did not take you for the dancing sort, but I'm open to be proven incorrect." Saskia spoke honestly as she turned her attention toward the group of musicians in the corner who were now striking up a rather lovely waltz of sorts. The Princess Royal, still smiling at this moment rested a hand on the man's shoulder and another upon his waist and waited for him to do the same. She looked at him as though she were scanning his face for something. Anything, largely perhaps attempting to see just how badly she angered him with her little toast.

    However, there was one more thing she had to dispense with. Saskia, leaned in and upward bringing her lips to the man's ear, she whispered lowly, softly but with a voice the dripped with her signature sweetness. "Imperial Majesty. We finally meet. I told you that I'd have your secret." She leaned away and would begin when he was ready. Saskia wanted him to know that she knew who he was. She wanted him to know that he had been spotted for who he was. And more importantly she wanted him to know that she based on the simple fact alone that they were dancing, she hadn't disclosed the truth to either of her brothers, or to the Emperor's own diplomats. She was happy to see where this would go. The Princess dress was of the softest silk, pleasant to the touch. Her wildflower perfume wafted gently from her as they moved.

    "Your friend over there... he looks jealous." Saskia nodded generally in the direction of Westley who was looking on as the two moved across the space, everyone giving them space to do as they pleased. No one would dare disrupt the Princess Royal.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  5. #25
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    Alistair's lips curled into a predatory smile as her lips uttered his title though it did little to placate his anger, his fingers curling over her body in the position for a waltz. As the music started, he pulled the young woman closer to his chest in the subtlest of ways to ensure their conversation would remain between the both of them even as people gave them space. Unfortunately, he knew far too well how f ine tuned was the hearing of the Flight and aside from Westley, two more of his men were bonded. As he started the pattern, his body struggling for a second to remember the correct move, he couldn't help savoring the feel of a woman in his arms. Ever since his brother's death, he had avoided womenlike a plague, avoiding anyone and anything that could be used as leverage against him. A lover, or worse, a bastard child would be a weakness he couldn't a ord. “Your highness is well informed, I will give you that,” Alistair kept his voice low and sultry though his eyes remained a dangerous color as he looked down at Saskia. His body finally hit upon the long forgotten memory of the dance and moved into auto pilot, sweeping across the dancefloor with precision. “I hope you realize you have nothing to gain by exposing me to your brothers but much to lose. It seems we didn't finish our conversation from earlier where you asked me to…”

    He spun her out and back in, the same scent that he noticed earlier teasing his senses. He hated to admit it but Westley was right when he emphasized the princess' beauty. As his fingers grazed her dress, Alistair couldn’t help admiring the woman before him even as his blood continued to rage in white hot anger. "You asked me to prove you wrong in regards to one handsome viscount. Whatever you think you know of me, whatever benefit of doubt you think to bestow me - don't. I will not hesitate to do what I believe is right for the stability of the Empire even if it means the end of peace with Lys. You were frank with me so let me fully return the favor - Asterious lost some unity with the death of my brother and it cannot afford another war. Do not for a second think that I will feel remorse if I need to send the Flight here to avoid this war and burn Lys to the ground for the good of my country. If war is what it means, it will be swift and merciless."

    Alistair continued across the dance floor, his eyes bearing down into her own and his hands seeming to hold her in place. "Tell me now Saskia, do you still think you can sacrifice your life and be bound to such an emperor?" His face was a mix of dark curiosity and cold rational, resolve etched into his features. As he waited for her response, his gaze lazily travelled to Westley before shaking his head and smirking down at Saskia. "As for my friend, princess, I would recommend you give him no encouragement else you may end up with a companion in your bed tonight."

  6. #26
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    For a moment Saskia noted as the Emperor had forgotten the dance, the art of the waltz. But he quickly impressed her when he seemed to pull the knowledge from deep within him. He drew her closer to him and Saskia allowed it with little complaint. It had been many moons since a man had dared asked the promised woman to dance. After all Saskia was always meant for someone else. The was a simple truth in the fact that Saskia was enjoying the dance independent of the conversation. She glid across the floor perfectly, every movement of her body so intentional and thought out. She never made a single misstep and allowed the man to lead her as was expected. Was it possible she even enjoyed the feeling of his hands against her body? She had to shake the thought at least for now.

    "If I wanted to tell them I would have already done so. But I daresay you are ruffling their feathers." Saskia smiled softly as she spoke equally softly. It seemed as though she were perfectly comfortable even when she was about to be threatened. "Just look at them. You can smell the panic. Can't you? The fear, the loathing." Saskia was intentional with her language, every word choice was perfectly thought out. "As they watch on as a pure blooded Asterian wraps his hands around their precious little flower. Surely you must appreciate the impact you have, even as a lowly Viscount." Saskia turned her head briefly during a moment of a spin to regard her brothers who watched her like they were predators.

    "Do you take pleasure in threatening women on a dance floor my Lord?" Saskia was for the moment infatuated with her current situation. "And to think I assumed you were warming up to me." Saskia shook her head and tutted her voice lightly, indulging in her every whim, at the moment she acted like she had no fear, even though she was at her core trembling at the thought of the results of this conversation. "You're quite right, I don't know you and at your own instance I will withdraw the benefit of any doubt. I'll take you at your word for that is all I have. You threaten my homeland, you must mean it." Saskia knew the Emperor was deathly serious. She knew that this was not a game, no matter how she might have acted when trying to determine his identity and her course of action.

    "I suppose this leaves room for only a few questions, or comments if you'll indulge me." Saskia understood for the moment that Alistair would indulge her, otherwise he would not have asked her to dance. He wanted to speak with her as privately as he could, and that meant for the time being he was at least interested in what she had to say. "Shall we be honest then?" Saskia was about to enter into unknown territory, and that was terrifying. "You can refuse my hand. But you'd be a fool to do so. You'll only welcome more trouble on your own head, if you are so determined to be rid of me, you must let Crysos act first and refuse to honor the terms of the treaty. You need Lys to be on the defensive if you want to negotiate. Lys must be responsible for pursuing further terms of peace with their original bargaining chip removed from the table." Saskia had to be clever here, she needed to think carefully. "Lys will return to its only hope, to pursue for time to come up with a satisfactory alternative for the Empire."

    Saskia was giving the man a way out. Even if that wasn't what she had in mind. But she was going to prove, or hope to prove her own worth, her own intellect. "What kind of Emperor do you want to be my Lord?" Saskia asked the question genuinely, sincerely. She held on to him tightly her eyes permanently locked now onto his. His dark swirling, storming eyes that seemed to say he hadn't made up his mind but he was on the precipice of doing so. "You burn Lys to ground you'll be known as nothing but a war criminal. A hated and reviled man who staved off a war by extremist action. The world might fear you, but what will you have accomplished?" Saskia wondered out loud to the man who held her fate in his hands in one way or another.

    "Let us say that isn't enough to deter you. Fair enough. You would be successful in avoiding a war before it could even begin. That's one thing in your favor." Saskia had a keen mind, or so she had told herself. "The Tyrenease are still at your doorstep and they have an army that Lys does not. And they will have the support of every lowly Kindgom from here to eternity because you slaughtered innocents and everyone wants to see you burn in the fires of your own hell. You will single handedly have united the world in their hatred of you and Asterious" She did not mince her words. She did not attempt to conceal anything. "That's another war, another expense. And if what you say is true, that Sebastien's death has caused internal unrest... I'd say there are a dozen men ready to kill you and lay their claim to your throne. Does that sound about right?" Saskia slowed down as the music slowed, she held him close to her, as he did in turn.

    "You need help. You need friends. You need them quickly." To those watching it just seemed like two people were dancing, but there was no denying the elegance in the way they moved together. In perfect synchronization as though they had been dancing partners for their entire lives. It was the show of a lifetime. "I have no desire to die my Lord. Please do not mistake my willingness to marry a man for weakness. Marriage is a chance for you to worry about one less thing. Just one. At least for now. But that is not my decision to make. That is entirely yours. Well, and my brother's." The Princess looked out once more upon Westley and sighed as she returned her attention to the Emperor.

    "A Princess does not just take any man willing to her bed. A Princess takes Emperors to her bed. She seduces them with her feminine wiles and her cunning. She wraps around them until they crave her very essence. Until they cannot live without her. Until the absence of her smell, of her touch would drive him mad beyond all reason. Until they desire nothing more than to satisfy her every need and wish." Saskia knew exactly what she was doing. "Unfortunately, it seems that isn't in your designs is it?"
    Last edited by Hannelorian; 03-24-2024 at 12:44 AM.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  7. #27
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    Alistair’s eye hardened as his mind was forced to agree with the young woman's words. Yes, razing any kingdom to the ground, be it Lys or another land in the future, would mark him as a criminal with his arms covered in the blood of innocents. He could picture it now - parents telling their kids of the mad emperor who will be out to get them if they didn't eat their vegetables, the elderly warding of evil at the very mention of his name, brothers and fathers hiding their daughters out if view to avoid then being snatched by dragon’s claws. He would become the bane of this world and, if he managed to hold onto power until his death, leave his son a legacy of fear and murder. That is if he ever had a son to begin with.

    His gaze fell onto hers and Alistair couldn't help wondering for a second if he had been too hasty in his decision. This woman in his arms was smart, kind and beautiful. She was brave and yet a bit native but the ways her eyes lit up when she knew she was right was somewhat amusing. She mentioned something about her brothers glaring and his blue eyes momentarily fluttered up to the dias, taking in Crysos pondering gaze even as he nodded to Riddle's words beside him and Theobald's furrowed brows and crossed arms. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn he saw a hint of jealousy on the halfblood's face. Perhaps it wasn't surprising given a very similar jealous expression was painted in various depths across the room. Wistful looks followed Saskia’s dress, men sighing when she gave them a flash of a soft smile. That amused him - to everyone in Lys, all they could see was their princess bestowing honor, most likely unprecedented, on a lowly foreigner.

    “You give me advice against your own brother,” he couldn't help raising an eyebrow. “Why? What loyalty do you hold to me or Asterious that you would give advice that would put your own country at a disadvantage In the negotiations table? You call me a fool for refusing you - I will easily return the favor. You are a full for wanting to tie your life with mine. I do not claim to know what Sebastian ever told you about the court of Valadis nor the political powers at play - all I know is that with his death and my ascencion, I have gained enemies enough to fill this castle. They will not stop at anything to see me fail and they will not care who gets hurt in the process. You will be the one they take out their anger on, their frustration, their fear and I wont be able to stop them from even if I wanted to.”

    Alistair paused, choosing his next words carefully even as they continued to dance. Subconsciously, he felt his grip tighten slightly on the girl. “You see, princess, I don't want to stop them. As you so mentioned, I have the Conglomerate to handle and rebels that are threatening the lives of innocents in the north, the lives of those who only want to see their crops grow and children survive. I cannot be at Valadis to protect you and if I show you affection, if those rats percieve that there is anything between us acune to understanding, they will not hesitate to hurt me through you.” The honest truth of the situation was ridiculous as it was raw and brutally honest - Alistair could not afford a weak wife nor could he afford one that he would love. He would do his duty to ensure an heir and work with his empress as a partner but his life was to be a rather lonely existance for the benefit of all.

    “I was never close with Sebastian and I never cared to be. However, in the few letters he wrote me, he never waivered in his affection for you. Take this as my parting gift - find someone else who could give you the same love as he would. I will not be that man.”

    As the music came to a close, he reluctantly bowed before her but the last soft comment made him jerk his gaze back to hers, darkness filling them once again. The way she spoke made his blood boil in a primal sort of way, a need to claim her just to prove a point overwhelming him so that all he could wonder was how her skin would taste under his lips. Or how she would respond if he pushed further - would she blush? Would she ask him to be gentle? Would her fingers thread through his hair and could he make her moan his name in the darkness of the night?

    Dravosk,” he cursed angrily under his breath before he reached over for Saskia's hand, grabbing it and pulling her through the first door he could see. It was a rash, stupid action and he knew he would have a few minutes at most but the girl threw out a challenge to a man, one used to danger and taking what he wanted when he wanted, consequences be damned. They ended up in a dimly lit corridor but Alistair didn’t care, he strode forward with a determination to get as far away from the celebrations, the diplomacy and the fakeness. His mind helpfully offered a faint memory of childhood when he and Sebastian had spent a summer memorizing the Castle of Argent, Sebastian more curious about the princess’ chambers while Alistair wondering about the fortifications and the garden located inside the castle walls. His tutor - the last one before his military training - told him of the unique flowers within the garden with such gusto, Alistair had always wanted to see it.

    His eyes caught onto a delicate pair of door leading to the outside through one of the empty salons and without thinking, he changed direction heading through the darkness of the room. His eyesight adjusting in a second and his hand tightening on Saskia's before he pushed open the doors To the cold autumn air, pulling the girl after him before pinning her against the wall, hands on either side of her frame as he towered over her. “Do you have any idea what you want princess?”
    Last edited by Breggo13; 03-24-2024 at 12:16 PM.

  8. #28
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    Their dance was coming to an end and their precious time together was running out. It was admittedly an odd sensation of intense intimacy and privacy between the pair despite being surrounded on all sides by those lookers on. And it was a shame as the Emperor appeared to finally open up to the Princess and play his own cards now that Saskia had done the same. All the while she smiled and moved accordingly.

    "I hold no loyalty to you, not yet." Saskia answered the question honestly as it was posed to her. "Consider my admission a gesture of good will. Even if we are not married, there are other means of getting what I want, a peace." Saskia was confident in that enough, she would just have to work harder toward a different means. As he moved on to topics of court and intrigue his own personal fears it seemed Saskia listened with a great deal of compassion and at times with great sadness. "Let us not speak of the dead, they do us little good now." Saskia for her own benefit did not wish to disclose all of what she knew or did not know of the Asterian court and their politics. Even she had to have her secrets didn't she.

    "You assume I'd be weak. A play thing in the hands of enemies. Just a tool to hurt you... so you'd refuse love either your own or love from another." Saskia sighed at the notion, so many men had so many assumptions about the woman, very few people had the patience to allow her to simply do as she needed and prove herself in her own light. "Perhaps this is your error. You cannot know what the future holds, none of us can. But if you live your life in fear of what others will do you have no real life. Even Emperors deserve a life of their own." Saskia was baffled at her own actions, her own choices here. She seemed to be riding more on a sense of personal emotion rather than anything logical.

    "I think you forget... certain truths." Saskia was tempted to use his name but she refrained. She too was playing it far too relaxed and as with his admissions there were those of her own. "I was raised for this. Born for this. Not just to be a dutiful wife, a doting mother. I was raised to seek out and kill snakes, to destroy my enemies as you would yours. I'm not so helpless as to let courtiers and would be heroes bring me down to serve their own means. I belong to no one." Saskia was a born diplomat, she had no choice. She at the very least felt confident in her ability to handle herself in the absence of the Emperor.

    The two bodies came to rest as the music stopped and Saskia took several steps backward while bowing her head in gratitude. Coming to understand just how distant he was from her brother had torn her heart in a way she could not describe. The Royal House of Castravet were thick as thieves, raised with nothing but love and affection, respect for one another. It seemed that in Asterious the Vallois' family had lacked some of these basic rights.

    Then all at once had grabbed her hand and pulled her away, hurriedly through doors. One could hear the audible gasps from the grand banquet hall as shock surely settled in. Saskia wondered what he was doing, where he was taking her. Did he even know? Or was it just meant to be far from the madding crowd? The rush of the autumn air hit her and brought her to reality as the man had settled her against a wall, hands on either side of her frame and he asked perhaps what had been his most burning question. She was trapped. Or was she? Saskia knew they had but minutes to conclude whatever it was that had just happened.

    "Yes. I do." For the first time in her life Saskia became the one thing she was never supposed to be, never allowed to be, warned not be, and that was impulsive. Saskia acted without thought and leaned herself upward and forward, her delicate hands raising to cup the cheeks of the man in front of her. Saskia wasted no time and drew herself in, pressing her lips fiercely and passionately to his. Alistair's lips were surprisingly soft. Her hands eventually would fall from his face to his shoulders and finally his torso as she pulled herself closer into him, drawing herself as close as she could be. Their lips parted and for a few moments their tongues would meet in their own dance not unlike what the two had done in the other room. As the Princess could heard the cries of the palace guard looking for her she forced the two of them apart. "Do you know what you want Alistair?" Saskia swiftly ducked down and slipped away from his grasp stepping backward just as the doors to the terrace flung open.

    Theobald was first through followed by a small legion of the palace guard and Lord Riddle behind them, most certainly worried like hell about what his Emperor had just done, possibly destroying their negotiations before they had begun. "Step aside Viscount." Theobald had drawn his sword and moved defensively to stand before Saskia, guarding her. The look on his face was one of pure rage, neighboring on hatred. "I need not remind you that kidnapping a member of the Royal family is punishable by death." He was seething in a way that Saskia had never seen, and Lord Riddle was now quaking in his boots.

    "Are you alright Royal Highness?" Theobald called behind him to Saskia who appeared to be somewhat exasperated herself.

    "Enough of this Theobald." Saskia finally called out. "Swords down all of you." Saskia moved again this time to reposition herself in front of Theo as she stared at him. "No harm has to come me. We needn't start a conflict over a misunderstanding." Saskia wasn't exactly sure how she could explain this, so she would simply lie in a manner that made the most sense at the time.

    "Misunderstanding? He absconded with you like some common criminal. What have you to say for yourself?!" Theo was still quite angry, and Saskia shook her head. "Lord Riddle." Saskia called attention to the man who now very frightfully made his presence known from behind the small legion of Lys' guards with his own cadre including Westley just behind him.

    "As this man is one of yours... punish him as you see fit. It's been quite the eventful evening and most of us have a busy morning ahead. No more nastiness for one night." Saskia turned her attention to Theo and sighed, the Princess quickly then moved to go inside, casting one backward glance to Alistair, a smile carved on her face.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  9. #29
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    Alistair groaned under his breath in frustration just as Saskia slipped away, leaving him towering over the empty space and lounging for the kiss they just shared to go on forever. Curse her stupid brothers and the banquet, curse the stupid delegation and his own duties. He hadn't expected the girl to dare do what he was doing his hardest to restraint from. Her lips were soft and warm with a faint taste of strawberries and as she pulled herself against his body, he had to force his hands to remain glued on the wall of the castle - if he took them off, he feared he would ravage her there and now. And as his togue gently pried her lips open touching hers, he was certain he would leave the imprints of his rough hands on the stones of Argent's castle. He should have pulled back and left before they had company but…

    Turning and straightening so that he looked Theobald square in the eyes, he looked his jaw. Fire was still coursing through his veins and his anger was back, directed this tike at the men currently surrounding him. “Kidnapping would imply that her royal highness left without her consent which I assure you I had. Or does you think she is not to be trusted with her own decisions?”

    “Sir Alexander!” Riddle squeeked even as his face had turned white with a greenish tint to it. Clearing his throat, he tried again though Alistair could see the array of emotions the man was going through. “Sir Alexander, this behavior Is not a representation of diplomatic goodwill.”

    “Do not forget your place here, Viscount,” Theobald took a step forward, voice dangerously low. “I do not know what misunderstanding took place here but I intend to find out and when I do, I will hunt you down like the animal you are.”

    “Bold words for the princess’ lap dog,” Alistair responded cooly. “Regardless of what truth you find, I brought her highness no ill.”

    “Your attention has been unwanted,” the man crossed his arms in a protective stance. “That woman has suffered more than any of us can imagine but she faces the world with more grace and compassion than I would believe was possible. Only her good will is saving you tonight from the Prince Regent's anger.”

    “My prince, please, I implore you - let me handle this man as her royal highness suggested. I will ensure he is gone before sunrise and is far away from any trouble come breakfast,” Riddle stepped between the two towering figures, weakly trying to stand infront of Alistair, making the emperor hum in amusement. “It was my mistake for bringing him here as I assumed he was prepared for the diplomatic burden. Let me ensure I rectify my mistake and bring peace back to your family.”

    “I am not an unreasonable man, Lord Riddle,” Theobald’s hard gaze turned to the older man in his fine silks and furs. “The princess’ sweet nature has given this scumbag a second chance and I will respect that by allowing you to send him away. However, if there's another incident in which any of your deligation is involved, I will come for you.”

    “Of course your Highness, I understand,” Riddle bowed low, his sharp glance at Alistair inviting the man go follow suit. Glowering, the warrior obliged though it physically pained him, his eyes trained to the ground with such Intensity, he was certain his glare could kill. “Allow me to start the preparations to send a few men home.”

    “I trust your judgment, lord Riddle,” Theobald’s anger seemed to be more controlled. “I hope that this isolated incident will be the only one in out negotiations.” With a curt nod to the diplomat, the prince guard strode after the princess, leaving Alistair and his vassal alone in the terrace that led to the park beyond. For the next few minutes, both men remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts. A few times, looking sideways at the emperor, Riddle attempted to say something, opening his mouth and then snapping it close, sighing and returning back to his deep thoughts. Alistair replayed Saskia’s last words to him over and over again, the final question hanging above him like a death sentence. Do you know what you want Alistair?

    Did he know what he wanted? At the moment, all his body craved was to go back to the kiss, to feel the girl's body against his own, run his hands over her curves and pull her closer, kissing her until she gasped for air. He would move onto her neck and the skin her dress left exposed, feeling how soft and alluring she was. He would allow himself to forget the circumstances and throw caution to the wind as he became intoxicated on her presence, on her scent and her body. He had been attracted to women before, some which could be considered even more beautiful than Saskia but he was never intrigued, never confronted by beauty and wit in equal measure. That made him crave to know more, to take his time and peel back layer by layer to discover the depths of this woman. It was lust, pure and primal, burning brighter than any he had felt before. But that was Alistair the man.

    Alistair the Emperor wanted to return home and do what needed to be done. He needed to get out of a dangerous, weakening marriage and back to ruling his court of wasps with an iron glove. He would keep an eye on on a perfect low class noble woman and leave the diplomacy with Lys to Riddle and his kind. He would see Saskia only when her brother came to bow down to his as his new sovereign and proclaim his loyalty, marking the moment that Lys became part of the Empire. Perhaps he would attend her wedding when she finally found herself a worthy husband that could love her and protect her in a way she deserved. Whatever happened this night between them, whatever meeting this was would be forever pushed to the realm of bittersweet dreams that he would revisit as a bitter old man with a soft fondness for the bright woman he encountered.

    “Milord, perhaps you should reconsider your stance on the marriage,” Riddle finally decided to voice his opinion, breaking through Alistair's dark thoughts. “It seems as though the young princess is smitten with you and--”

    “No,” Alistair cut the man off, his eyes meeting the diplomat's. “She will not become my empress. Ensure that in your talks and Riddle,” his lips curled into a faint semblance of a smile, “Ensure that Crysos is the one to push for no marriage. Take as much time as you need but make sure that Asterious has nothing to do with the break of contract.”

    “Will he push for it though? That would be going against the King's wishes,” the noble seemed unconvinced though Alistair could see his mind working on the possibilities.

    “I have it on good authority that he will,” Alistair's smirk evolved into something predatory once more. “I have my full faith in your skills. I will be gone at daybreak with Westley and Radisson.”

    “So few? But milord!” Riddle exclaimed but a sharp look cut him off.

    “We need to travel light and fast. A bigger group will slow us down and limit Asterios' presence here. They will wonder why your troublesome subject needs a bigger escort than two fine knights. No need to fuel any additional speculations,” the man turned on his heels, starting towards the apartments allocated to his men. “Besides, I will be switching to the skies once we cross a border and I won's be waiting for those without dragons to keep up.”

    “I….I understand my liege,” Riddle nodded in thought. “You can be sure I will do everything in my power to ensure Asterious is prosperous.”

  10. #30
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    Once inside with the doors closed behind her Saskia exhaled deeply, she could feel the wave of red wash over her face as she was flustered with her own emotion and the exhilaration she felt in that kiss. It was something wildly unexpected and she wondered if Alistair had been prepared for her to do that as well. If she had enticed him in some kind of way, but she knew he would not change his mind. Why was this man frustrating her so? She disagreed with his outlook, with his course of action and yet she was entirely attracted to him, she could feel herself being called to him and she cursed the fact that his brother had been lost.

    The Princess made her way back toward the banquet hall and looked upon the dais and made eye contact with Crysos. In the very way that could only mean she had to speak with him. At this point Theo was not far behind having wrapped up his business with Lord Riddle and the Viscount. The Princess found herself in the small golden drawing room, a room where plans were often made and broken, and sure enough her brothers would be there and the Princess would prepare to answer their questions.

    "What happened? What did that monster do to you?!" Theobald demanded with Crysos looking on with a look of something akin to abject horror.

    "Nothing. He did not do anything untoward nor did he lack my consent in taking me aside." Saskia shot back as she glowered at Theo, it was clear even from her perspective that she was angered or at the least made uncomfortable by this situation.

    "Then what did he wish with you, sister?" Crysos finally piped up and Saskia turned her eyes toward him. "He had a message for me." Saskia was lying to her own brothers, something she would likely have to pay for in time, but in this moment she felt she had an understanding of what needed to happen. She would have to pursue her own fight. "Do go on Saskia." Crysos demanded of her and she would comply with him as Theo watched on in relative silence now.

    "The rumours are true. The Emperor is indeed a horrible man who cannot be trusted. To comply with the terms of the treaty as set out would surely be a death sentence." Saskia exhaled deeply and moved to sit in the relative comfort of a settee. "And so... now we must make our decisions. We must all agree." Saskia looked at her brothers, her eyes scanning their faces, back and forth between them. "Crysos do you intend to withdraw marriage, thus breaking the terms of the treaty as they have existed for twenty five years?"

    Saskia looked at him plainly, her hands now resting in her lap. Crysos' eyes softened, understanding what he had to do and what his answer would mean for his own sister. "I do, Saskia. I am sorry." He looked upon her and too she could feel Theo's eyes upon her but she said nothing for a few moments.

    "Then we are agreed. There will be no marriage." Saskia backed down from her position, she looked resigned and defeated. This was exactly what she wanted to convey. Tears were now welling in her eyes and streaming down her cheek. She would play them for fools to buy herself nothing but time. "That being said... without marriage there is no reason to sue for peace. They will take Lys by force if they need, kill us if we resist." The Princess Royal wiped the tears off her cheeks and breathed deeply, visibly trembling as though coming to terms with the loss of her birth right, her destiny, her only direction.

    "What can we offer?" Theo asked genuinely... thrown for a loop by everything that had just transpired. He agonized over the sadness that Saskia must have felt.

    "We have nothing. We ask for time. Set a date for the absorption of Lys into the Empire. A year from tomorrow... give us the year to complete the preparations for the peaceful transition of power... we'll surrender the throne... and we spend the next year assembling our armies, training every available soldier... I don't think we can win... but. Time." Saskia looked at Crysos, she knew that now she was sacrificing his position. "It's a bluff, a huge risk, a bald faced lie. But our only other option would be immediate surrender or death and those are not tenable terms."

    Saskia looked at her brothers. "This means everything changes for all of us. Our destinies are forever changed by this decision." Crysos looked visibly shaken though he seemed to understand at least for the moment.

    "Well... as I will not be needed at the negotiation table in the morning. Theo, can you have my horse prepared. I'd like to go for a ride, get some fresh air. "I leave this in your capable hands Crysos. Do not fail us now." Saskia rose from her seat and moved to stand behind her brother, she leaned over him in his chair and kissed the top of his head, her hands resting tightly on his shoulders gently rubbing them. "I love you. Both of you." Saskia left the room quietly and returned to her own chambers.

    When she arrived her most loyal maid was waiting, a bath had been drawn and she was slowly undressed, the jewelry and finery had been removed. The careful pins and braids in her hair came out and allowed her brunette locks to fall down about her shoulders. The Princess Royal had no intention of crying, and she had no intention of fighting her brothers any longer. Their minds had been made up, as it was clear had the Emperor's. So... she would chase after him and make her own plea for the final time. Why did she need diplomats when she had the man himself?

    Following her bath the Princess was dressed in her night gown and lay in her bed. The fireplace quietly burning on the other side of the room, Saskia lay awake. Fingers pressed to her lips she could still feel Alistair on her. She would allow her hands to roam across her body, her flesh, feeling the same spots where she had been touched while they danced. She longed for the feeling of those hands upon her, and when she fell asleep perhaps she dreamed of a man or a monster.

    It would not be until the following morning where Saskia would sit down to pen a letter to her brothers.

    Dearest Theobald and Crysos,

    As you undoubtedly know by now... I have lied to you both. I have left the Kingdom to pursue my fate and fortune. While you may not wish me to marry the Emperor, I still believe I must try. I wish to offer myself to him personally. And should he reject me, perhaps I will meet my death. You have all of my love and trust. I pray not to let you down, and I pray you can forgive me and love me.

    Always yours,
    Saskia


    It was short, it was placed into an envelope and sealed. The envelope hidden then within her desk in a place that would take them quite some time to find once it had been determined that she had gone missing. It was with a simple attire of dress, hidden funds and of course a trusted riding cloak of royal blue velvet lined with silk that she made her way to her horse as desired. Smiling and greeting those on her way as though nothing was wrong. Would they really let her go?
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

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