Zacharius Venturi

26 :: Masculine :: Prince of Kagha :: Mentions: Mircea [ dir ] Nikolas [ ind ]

Zacharius was right. He heard the doors to his chamber swing open as the tapping of heels drew closer and closer. He could practically see the disappointment on Mircea's face when he heard his friend's exasperated and annoyed sighs. He definitely saw the bed.

“Zacharius,” The tension in Mircea’s voice rang out. Zak couldn’t help but let out a devious giggle as Mircea made idle threats.

“Fieshty,” Zacharius mouthed, the cork still sandwiched between his teeth as he miserably failed to get it open. He wasn’t going to stop now, though. He wiggled the bottle about, trying to find the best angle to yank it off. Before he found the sweet spot, he heard him. Mircea was closing the distance and Zak had to get this bottle open now. If Mircea caught him committing bad habits again he'd probably manhandle Zak to the point where it wouldn't be enjoyable anymore.

Frantically, he bit down on the cork harder and leaned back, pulling at the edge of the bottle with his free hand. If the beads of sweat on his hands didn’t make the bottle slip out and send him stumbling backward, he probably would’ve been able to open it.

The door swung open, and Mircea burst in. Dammit. Zak released the cork from his mouth, shamefully accepting his defeat.

Zak was focused on the bottle of wine, intent on keeping it with him. He pulled the bottle of wine closer to his chest, not wanting Mircea to take it from him, as he knew he would. But instead of immediately bombarding Zak with what's ‘proper’ and 'right' for wine corks, Mir fell silent. Zak lifted a brow, bringing his gaze up from the bottle and to the eyes of his friend. “You’re shirtless.” Mir stated.

Zak looked down at himself and then back up again to Mir, taking note of his lack of a shirt as well. “Really? I didn’t realize,” Zacharius sarcastically said, following it up with an aloof tease; “Huh. I thought I felt a breeze.”

“Why the fuck.“

“You know me, always running around nude and scurrying away from anyone who tries to stop me-“

When Mircea took a step back, Zak was able to take in his friend's full… apparel. He had never seen Mircea so snatched before. The man was always wearing bulky armor that covered his surprisingly voluptuous curves. Zak forgot what he was going to say, and caught himself staring. He observed the tightly bound corset and the lack of space that Mircea’s pants had. His gaze lingered for a bit, and he wanted to correct himself- truly, he did… but he decided against it.

Zak pulled his eyes from Mircea’s body and brought them up to meet Mir's when he felt air where a wine bottle should’ve been. “I-“ Before he could explain himself, Mircea whipped around, bitch slapping Zak with his endless curls of hair. For a moment, he stood there in shock. A multitude of things just happened that were worthy of Zak having to register emotions.

He watched Mircea leave the room, and took notice of his friend's struggle with the lacing on their corset. Zak instinctively started to walk toward Mircea, placing his hand on the shoulder of one of the maids that were rushing to help Mircea with their corset. The maid flinched and came to a halt.

“The bath needs prepping,” Zak patted the maid’s shoulder, dismissing her.

“B-but the bath is finished, your Royal Highness..”

“The bath needs prepping.” Zak didn’t even spare the girl a glance before making a beeline to Mircea.

Once beside his friend, he snatched the bottle from the desk and took a generous sip before putting it back.

“Hold still I got this.” With those confident words, Zak grabbed up the threads that were laced and entwined on the back of Mircea’s corset. "Don't worry I'll be gentle," Zak teased, making this way too sensual for any normal human being to not feel awkward.

Zak paused. And for a moment, he pondered taking the entire thing off.

Given the height difference, Zak had to hunch over to reach the corset and accurately decide how to handle the lacing. He was close enough to Mircea to the point where he had to shove Mircea’s hair over their shoulder, so as to not let it tickle his forehead when he was concentrating.

First, he undid the messy knots and then pulled the thread together, tightening the corset. He was a professional at tying corsets- don’t ask why. Zak placed one of his hands on Mir’s upper hip, steadying Mircea before giving the corset another tug to make it nice and snug. Now, he didn’t really need to handle Mir’s hip in order to steady him, but he wouldn’t give that minor detail away.

“I know you took one of my spiced chocolates, you greedy shit.” Zak tried to toss in some small talk by blatantly accusing Mir without any evidence. I don’t need evidence. Mir always steals my chocolates.

“It’s not like you need sweets when you’ve already got so much cake,”

And with that, Zak finished tying the corset and removed his hand from Mir's hip, proud of his work.

Leaning back, he took in the full view, tapping his chin with his index finger approvingly.

Now amused with himself, he revealed a magnetic smirk. “Lord Rosenburg in a corset. I hope this becomes a trend.”

Zak made his way to the cup of wine that lay beside the bottle and took another sip, cocking his hip to the side as he maintained eye contact with Mircea. Another entertaining thought entered his one-tract mind.

“Since I got the privilege of practically putting on your corset, does that mean I’ll be given the honors of taking it off?” Zacharius was having too much fun now.

He wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon until he heard an angry, bellowing voice echo down the corridors and into his room. That was the defining moment where he was brought back to reality. His father getting pissed off at arranging flowers was the biggest turnoff. Zak cleared his throat, breaking his gaze as he turned around.

“I guess I should start to get ready then,” With a degraded sigh, Zak headed to the bathroom. He made sure to take the cup of wine and leave Mircea with the bottle. He was certain that the decoraters were going to come looking for Mircea soon so he might as well leave him with the best liquid-form stress reliever out there.

He looked over his shoulder for a moment, and without having a single thought process he said; “I’m going to be in the bath, care to join?” His lips betrayed him. He didn’t even realize his own words before they left his mouth, but he was proud of them for forming such ones. Stop toying with him already. He closed the bathroom door behind him and stared at the tub of hot, steaming water that was awaiting his arrival. There were a couple of servants there to help bathe and scrub him. They looked like shadows as they stood idly beside the tub with their heads hung, gazing down at the floor in submission.

Let’s get this over with, then. Zacharius undressed and within a flash, he was in the bath. He sunk deeper and deeper into the water until his head splashed under, getting every crevice of his face bombarded with heat. He held his head under for a few moments before popping back up to the surface for a breath of air. His face was covered in a faint hue of red, now.

One of the servants pulled his hair back and out of his face, using a separate bucket to wash it out and condition it with foreign substances. He didn’t know what oils they used, but whenever they were done, his hair always gained a certain shine. He was going to take a sip of his wine when his arm was snatched by another servant that started to violently scrub at his skin.

“Ten hells what did I ever do to you?” Zacharius pulled his arm away from them, furrowing his brows in annoyance. He would’ve looked intimidating if he wasn’t slowly bringing the cup of wine to his mouth while staring the person down.

“W-we were told to hurry up-“

Zacharius took an obnoxious sip and gave the servant an annoyed tsk. That was his cue to shut them up. He couldn’t stand the fear in some servants’ voices, it gave him a headache.

“Just get it over with,” Zak gave his arm back to the servant and allowed them to continue.

The bath was quickly finished, leaving Zak wanting more. At least he felt refreshed, even though he would’ve wanted to relish in the warm water for longer. He was mostly dried, though his hair was damped with licks of moisture that refused to come out.

"The ball is going to be held soon, Lord Rosenburg said we need to get you ready now, he was quite adamant about making this a quick process..." Zak looked behind him, spotting a young tailor who escorted him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom where his attire for the ball waited patiently.

Ashara H. Zanni

23 / F / Kagha Knight § / no label / M: Salen, Kagha Royals [ind]

I hate parties.

Well, it wasn't a "party," per se. It was going to be an absolutely gorgeous and positively stunning masquerade. (Could you taste the sarcasm in that sentence?) She was almost positive she had heard rumors that the event would be a cover for some plot against the Kingdom of Orin, but it was probably false. Actually, she was 99.999991% sure it was false. After all, if you were to rely on the talk coming from the workers - the servants, but Ashara disliked the word - then you had no life. Like, let’s be real here, they were hardly reliable information sources at all. More than three quarters of their talk was highly exaggerated. It was reasonable, though. Sometimes the work was dull. Spinning tales was a good way to pass the time.

Ashara sighed. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. A strange sense of paranoia had hit her and she had decided to do a quick sweep of the royal halls. After her little patrol, she had aggressively slammed her head into the wall. She was far too attached to the Kingdom of Kagha. Be a spy, they said. It'll be so fun, they said.

It was not very fun. They had lied.

First off, she felt like she was constantly stepping on burning coals and walking on very, very sharp little pebbles. The kind that sticks into your flesh and burns. Or maybe it felt like, I don’t know, constantly lying to your closest friend you’ve known for years?

But it’s fine. It was fine. Even if she was being a little spy for the Empire of Edyss, which she was taught was a horrid place full of sick bastards, she couldn’t back out any longer. She had dug herself a hole too deep to climb out of. As long as Salen was fine, she was fine. “Happy wife, happy life.” They weren’t truly married, but it was the closest analogy she could think of. That reminded her. She should check up on the princess so they could begin getting prepared for the masquerade.

Ashara had already changed into her little get-up. She wore an ornate dress tight to her skin. It was a rather wide and deep v-necked, equipped with long sleeves. It was a nice blue dress, decorated in silver and different shades of blue. Her dress had an almost delicate shoulder armor and arm guards as well, reaching almost to her elbows. They swirled in light silver shades, flexible but protective. The dress reached to her knees and flowed lightly. It was an extremely light dress. She was confident in it knowing she could fight and run in it. (Don’t worry, she tested multiple times in her quarters and in the washing rooms.)

The whole outfit was simple. She wasn’t meant to stand out; merely blend in. Hidden pockets held knives and other chosen weapons in case any threats came into the ball. She also had small hooped earrings and a simple chain necklace. They were also silver, of course. She had picked out a silver mask with light embroidery. It was light as well. It wasn’t anything special, similar to the dress. Her mask was dangling carefully from her left hand. No matter about the look of her outfit, though, because it was indeed comfortable, which delighted her.

She began heading towards Salen’s quarters, a bored air about her. Workers walked back and forth, looking rather stressed. She sympathized with them. Thankfully, she didn’t have to do work nearly as tedious as them. All she had to do was stay near Salen and not lose the princess. They were the same age, though the princess was rather tall compared to Ashara. About 5 to 6 inches taller, in fact. It would help to spot the royal.

A cheery little tune entered her tone as she knocked once on Salen’s door before heading into her rooms. She was pretty positive that even if Salen was on her guard, she could defend it. She was supposed to be the knight, after all. “Hey princess. Are you dressed yet- Oh my god you look amazing.” Ashara smiled at Salen with complete honesty. The dress looked amazing, and as did Salen. “Ahh! You’re so cute, girl. Making me envious over here.” She sighed and wandered over to Salen’s bed, flopping down lightly. “Well, at least I know my date’s going to look amazing so I don’t have to,” Ashara teased lightly, referring to Salen. She was extremely glad that she wouldn't have to guard the other princes. It wasn’t that she disliked them, but she liked Salen a lot more.

She knew Mircea was going to be at the lovely Prince Zak’s side at all times. (That was sarcasm, in case it wasn’t obvious. Zak wasn’t horrid, but-) All she could think about, though, was the food that was going to be there. Well, she thought there was going to be food. If there wasn’t, then the party would be an absolute failure and Kagha had failed at hosting in her opinion. She was about to ask Salen about it, but thought better of it. Instead, she directed her words to a much better question:

“When do you want to start heading down? Or do you want to get ready for a bit longer?” She glanced over at Salen, hoping she wouldn’t see how positively tired Ashara was.

Kazimir Payne | 16 | Male | Squire | Orin | M: Edrys,

Kazimir groaned as a thin, pathetic streak of puffy white moved away from the angry, glaring sun. The stupid yellow ball of wrath seemed to be intent on his suffering. He shook his fist at it. He imagined that millions upon millions of miles away the sun scowled and flared back up again. Another bead of sweat dripped down his back. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could’ve sworn that he could see the water evaporate straight off of his skin. Damn that sun, he thought as he stuck his tongue out at it and wriggled his wrists at it. By doing so he had to drop his reins, but this did not majorly effect his ride. Kapper, his horse, had lowered her head in her toil and her hooves lazily clopped down the road at a slow-paced walk. Underneath her saddle blanket, her back was coated with sleek sweat and Kaz would have to hose her down when they reached Kagha.

Kagha, he thought, I wonder how Kagha will be like. Don’t they get lonely with all that open space? Already he was feeling a bit homesick. He was used to the thick forests of his homeland that was like a protective shield around him or a cozy quilt that Mother Nature sewed for him. The grassy plains around him made him feel exposed like a nasty sibling had thrown off the covers while he was still in his underwear. Oh look a tree, he stared at the lonely evergreen until his neck ached. Poor thing, it’s got no friends. That was the thing about forests. They each had their own best friends. Or at least that is what he liked to believe.

Of course, he wasn’t upset that he wasn’t home. He liked the idea of traveling. It was an adventure; an unknown land. However, this was different. This was…a mapped land and it was a dealing with something more serious than a young man charming his way through the world. This was war, and war meant lots of casualty numbers. He didn’t like the idea of being one of those. This is supposed to help us if there is the war, he reminded himself, more numbers mean a high percentage of my survival. Right? Maybe….He wasn’t great at math. Or science, or reading, or grammar…what was he good at? Hmm, he’d have to come back to that. There was another cloud passing over the sun and he’d have to tease it.

“That’s what you get you big, round, blob of heat and, and, uh, yellow stuff….” He trailed off. That was a pretty bad and he’d have to add something else or the sun would laugh at him. “You’re fat!”

This continued throughout the rest of the trip and he was sure that the party around him were getting irritated at his random outbursts. However, he wasn’t too bothered by his traveling companions occasional eye-rolls or shouts at him. He was bored and they weren’t helping. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

By the time they reached their destination, Kaz was giving the sun a cold shoulder after it somehow insulted his horse by saying that she looked like a cow. No one tells his horse that. Not even the thing that warms the entire planet. Of course, the stupid ball responded by cursing him with heat. It felt as if it was individually pointed at him. Damn it. Oo, look at that cool banner! A multi-colored flag blew in the breeze above him. He frowned. They were missing the color violet. Violet was his personal favorite. People need to understand the difference between violet and indigo, he huffed mentally. His eyes then flickered on some rough individuals watching the Royals pass through out of the corner of their shifty eyes. His hand went for one of his throwing knives. He stopped himself before drawing it out of its sheath. Think, he reminded himself, is this a good idea? He thought about it. No, no it’s not. Should I keep these hidden? He glanced down at where his pretty little blades were. Maybe, I’ll have to ask Edrys.

“Hey, Edrys,” he waved at her to catch her attention and then lowered his voice. “Should I hide my knives and stuff?”

He followed his mentor’s example and dismounted his bay mare. He also shadowed her when she asked the princess a question.

Mirian Orianna Thezmaer

23 | F | Princess of Orin | Mentions: Sori, Edrys

As the great walls surrounding the city of Prira drew closer, Mirian’s nerves stretched thinner and thinner. The urge to bite her nails, tolerable up until this point, grew so strong that she had to physically sit on them to stop herself. While engaging in the nervous habit might grant her some temporary relief, Mirian knew that she wouldn’t forgive herself later for ruining the forest-themed designs that had been so painstakingly painted on them hours earlier. The gates to the city loomed open like a toothy maw ready to swallow her whole, and Mirian unconsciously held her breath until the carriage was fully through. The rest of the city passed by in a blur of colorful cloth and noisy cobbles, until all too soon the carriage was rolling to a stop outside the doors of the palace. A footman opened the door for her and expectantly held out his hand.

Mirian hesitated, struck by an intense surge of homesickness. She didn’t want to be here, among people she didn’t know and didn’t trust, and whom more than likely didn’t want her there either. It was lucky that her dress wasn’t exactly made for riding, because if she had been astride her stallion Harrow in that moment it was highly probable that she would’ve turned around and galloped all the way home.

“Your Highness?” The footman’s query snapped Mirian out of her fantasy escape, and she realized with some embarrassment that her hands were still tucked under her thighs. Firmly, she took the footman’s proffered hand in her own as she stepped out of the carriage. The solid ground under her boots after hours of a swaying carriage steadied her, and she was profoundly grateful that she had decided to wear her custom-made climbing boots rather than the heels that had been commissioned to go with the rest of her outfit. After all, Mirian had reasoned, it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them because of how long her dress was. And if the metal points did catch the light as she was dancing, well that could easily be explained away as the flashy ornamentation to be expected at an event like this.

Speaking of flashy ornamentation, as Mirian moved towards the palace doors her eyes were drawn to a resplendent figure in blue and silver. The spasm of jealousy that always accompanied any thoughts of her sister flared slightly, and Mirian slipped her hands through the subtle slits in her dress to grasp the hilts of her daggers. Having a weapon in her hand always calmed Mirian, so every single outfit she wore was designed to accommodate her daggers Dusk and Dawn. However she didn’t want to reveal them if she didn’t have to, so once the feelings of jealousy and insecurity had subsided she nonchalantly withdrew her hands from her dress. Mirian normally didn’t go for dresses, especially ones that hugged her body as tightly as this one did, but she had to admit that the loss of mobility was pretty well countered by the way the gown made it look like she actually had curves. The sacrifices we make for looking drop dead gorgeous, she mused to herself with a satisfied smirk. Usually Mirian didn’t care much for clothes, but the combination of forest-green material with glittery black leaves had captured her heart instantly. And that was even before she’d seen the daringly open back. The hardest part of her apparel to decide upon had been the mask. Eventually Mirian had settled on a verdigreed brass half-mask adorned with twisted snakes to pair with her brass arm bands, forearm cuffs, and a gold snake ring with emerald eyes on her right index finger. Her confidence boosted by the memory of her outfit’s final result, Mirian stepped up next to Sori, who had been joined by one of the Orinnian knights in the meantime.

“Bet that I’ll dance with more people than you tonight,” she challenged, her playful tone undercut by a slight edge of animosity. If she was being realistic, Mirian would admit that she would probably lose that bet. However making a competition of it might make the night more fun, as well as encourage her to dance more than she would have otherwise. As she waited for her sister to respond, Mirian’s attention was drawn to the knight standing alongside them.

Compared to Mirian and Sori the woman was rather short, her head only coming up to around Sori’s mouth. But she exuded a sense of competency Mirian couldn’t help but envy, and her jade eyes seemed to strike into Mirian’s very core. She seemed familiar, and the princess searched her memory for the knight’s name. Coming up blank, the princess self-consciously reached up to tuck away a lock of her ebony hair that had escaped from her tight braided bun, fingers brushing against the bronze deer head stuck at the top of her jade and onyx earcuffs.

“Are you to be the guard assigned to us tonight? I hope you’re prepared to keep up with us.” Mirian grinned in what she hoped was a friendly way, as she prayed to every god that was listening to prevent her nervousness from coming through.

Mircea Vasilica Rosenburg

23 :: Masculine :: Knight :: Mentions: Zacharius, Sori , Mirian, Edrys , and Kazimir

The young man was too wound up cursing every known deity for the hellish creation that were corset laces. He didn't even know how the fuck the maid had managed to screw the laces up so badly. He had been in such a rush to put something on besides his clunky armor that he didn't notice how horrendous his corset laces were. His Aunt would be very disappointed if she knew about this offense - so that's why she said never trust another person with your laces but your partner. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts and his brain was running a mile a minute - he had forgotten to tell the Prince the schedule. Damnit, he cursed mentally. He was about to say something when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hold still I got this."

"What do you mea-" he began, confused with what was going on. Maybe it was because he had been up since the ass crack of dawn - because how the hell did he not notice the prince coming towards him. Was the Prince of Kagha fixing his corset laces? Was this legal? He could feel his cheeks even burn at the thought of it - but Zacharius was definitely doing his laces. But what sent him over the edge was the teasing , " Don't worry I'll be gentle."

Was that meant to sound that goddamn hot? No, no, no Mircea you're just sleep deprived - your best friend, the eldest Prince Of Kagha, a man you've known since diapers was not flirting with you. Nope, nada, that was not happening. Surely he wasn't that interesting for Zacharius to take a liking to - besides he always yelled at the guy but he didn't seem to mind. His mind was cleared when he realized that Zacharius had stopped. His face scrunched up in displeasure - why had he stopped? Quite frankly he was enjoying the contact - and in the mirror he could see Zacharius looking at his corset like he was trying to figure out something.

He hummed to himself softly - waiting for the prince to continue. This would be the first time he was speechless due to Zacharius's actions and he found himself observing the male in the mirror as he relaced his corset. It was one of his rare softer looks - ones he sometimes didn't knew he could give to him. This reminded him of his parents - the gentleness and banter between his mother and father whenever she asked him to fix her corset for an event. Somehow they always ended up giggling like love-sick teenagers and it seemed they always fell in love again for some reason. He blinked slowly after the thought and put his hands to his face - was he running a fever? Was he sick? Since when was he so goddamn sappy , where had that come from all of a sudden. You're in love , you pining idiot - came a nagging voice at the back of his brain.

He then felt something foreign. His eyes slowly trailed to find that Zacharius had put his hand on his upper hip. And the subtle brushing away of his hair. He could feel his brain malfunctioning at the placement and contact - but it was cut short at the feeling of him making sure the laces were snug on him. And he relaxed himself still not saying anything. He didn't feel the need to say anything - he just felt the need to watch. Then came Zacharius with his little quip about the chocolates.

"Yeah I did. And what about it? You know I've liked that brand since we were children. I literally almost broke your hand that one time for trying to steal some from me. But now I'm so goddamn busy I can't even take a moment to order the import for them so I steal them from you." He said in a teasing manner - a rare smile and mischievous smirk gracing his face, one that would've been hidden by a helmet. And at the last sentence he gave a yawn and blinked his eyes - as if to try and stay awake for what was going on.

“It’s not like you need sweets when you’ve already got so much cake,”

He had to blink slowly after hearing that sentence. Had he heard the prince right? Oh dear heavens, this man would be the death of him. He could feel the blush now creeping towards the tips of his ears. He had never thought of himself that attractive - hell he knew he had good looks , after all his parents were good looking so of course their children would be. But for Zacharius to say that he really didn't know what to say, again. So he opted for fiddling with his notebook.

But then he when he heard himself being called by his rightful title and not some stupid nickname he swore he saw stars right then and their. If Zacharius was going to make him feel this way then what was the harm in flirting back - after all there was already a betting pool on them . So Mircea put his hands on his hips and gave a small twirl before looking in the mirror - adjusting his hair a bit as he did so.

"Hmmm. Maybe, you know I can't say no to you , Your Highness." He said casually, but not in his usually annoyed or snippy tone. This one was different, sort of an invitation if you will. "Your wish is my command." And with a dramatic forward bow he raised up to give a smug grin. And he turned it into a mischievous one at the prince mentioning taking it off. He gave his own tap of his cheeks - that were still probably tinted a shade of red from him being a blushing mess earlier.

"I'm not opposed to that offer." He said and before he could reply - the shouting of the King echoed through the Halls. A scowl appeared on his face and he glared at the door accusing. How the fuck was the King so loud?

Damnit, someone needed to get that man some anger management lessons.

He was too lost in his disappointment that he heard the final quip from Zacharius he without thinking said, "Hm. Tempting, but I must save this Ball from disaster - so you'll have to ask me again and maybe with some more wine. Because this isn't gonna be enough to help the headache I'm about to get."

He grabbed the bottle of wine and with a heavy sigh left the room and soon found himself bombarded by the servants. This was going to be a veeeery long night - they'd better have more wine.

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

He was about to have a goddamn fit.

"No. Who put these god awful lime drapes in the ballroom? Tear that shit down, burn it. It needs to be out of my sight and far away from the castle, immediately." He said rather insulted by the tacky drapes, he could hear the giggles of the servants behind him as he had spoken the words with disgust - and he watched them happily destroy the drapes. Satisfied he went about to start fixing the situation, "I need the drapes that are red with golden trim. And the fresh Costhyme Ruby Roses to adorn the pillars. The red against the golden pillars would look absolutely darling. " he said airily as he gently touched the petals of said roses, and he watched as maids began working on putting them around the pillars and making them beautiful.

He found a spare glass and poured the rest of the wine in said glass, and gave the empty bottle to a servant to discard. He took a sip of the well deserved wine before massaging his temples. His headache at dealing with this wasn't letting up just yet. Mircea found an empty chair - and he sat in it, it was quite a spot , he had a good vantage point of what was going on down below him. That's when he noticed some Gereba daises being cut and he let out an offended gasp before coming down from his seat and immediately stopping the maids.

"Gerbera daisies are revolting—loud, cloying, obvious and garish. Why would we want such revolting flowers placed , we can do much better. No, no, no we are not having subpar flowers in this Ball Room. "

"What flowers would you suggest then my lord?" The Maid said calmly and confused - the poor lass was probably just following orders and so it would take Mircea to make sure the floral arrangements were perfect.

"Peonies. The fragrance, the size, the colors, the way every day it looks a little different—it truly is the queen of all flowers.” Was the simple reply that he gave to the maid and he said, " we should have some perfect red and orange peony flowers perfect for a bouquet — and add a few dusty miller and eucalyptus leaves to make it even more of a beautiful centerpiece, and possibly some purple lisianthus flowers." And he gave a soft hum as he finished explaining.

Mircea was soon adding the final touches to the Ball Room. The designated area for the Orion Royals held beautiful rich green and chestnut table cloth and green and golden chairs for them to sit upon. And the rest of the Orion people coming had similar tables with just smaller green chairs with golden buttons. In the center of each table was a beautiful white vase containing Costhyme Ruby Red and Golden Sun Roses. The flowers being rare and expensive - also part of Mircea's personal garden. The golden petals of the golden rose looked magnificent paired with the blood red roses.

Mircea sighed , his work was now done. Food was being prepared, tables set, the dance floor was immaculate and there was not a single speck of dust on the balcony , or Banquet Hall. All was left was the entertainment. The entertainment - at this his head shot up and frantically began searching for the orchestra that had been hired to play for the event and he hissed in annoyance at realizing they weren't there.

He sped down halls and turned corners quickly. He was at the entrance of the castle when he noticed: it seemed the Orion Royals were arriving and here. The Queen would be pleased to hear this news, but what he was focused on was the speeding carriages pulling in. He walked pass the Orion Royals with a polite bow but as soon as he passed them his posture straightened up and his steps were thunderous and held purpose.

He watched the orchestra begin coming out of the carriages with their instruments in tow and he gave the conductor a dirty look.

"You're late." He hissed, impatient and unimpressed.

"Calm down, we're here now aren't we. We got delayed by lunch , missed the boat." Came the lax reply from the conductor.

"Missed the boat...because of lunch." Mircea said deadly calm, before he grabbed the shoulder of the conductor saying, " a royal boat was commissioned to pick you up and treat you on your way here since you're also guests of this Kingdom. And you miss it because of your stomach. You better be playing some damn good music or else you will find yourself never able to play in another venue or castle again because I will put you on a blacklist and I have that authority. So you and your band better hurry up and get ready for our esteemed guests or so help me. You will feel my fury."

The conductor gulped and ordered his band to hurry up their unpacking - and Mircea watched with satisfaction as the moved around swiftly and soon had been unloaded and ushered away by awaiting servants. Now that the entertainment was here, he could finally do the last thing on his task list - give a warm welcome to the Orion Royals. Mircea took a deep breath to compose himself - he didn't need them thinking he was always this snappish and uncouth , he wanted to make a good first impression. And so he made his way toward the nobles - his walk was elegant and his posture held high, if not from looking at his clothes one would tell by his air and the way he walked and commanded the castle he was of some notability and possibly nobility. He held himself with the grace and charm of an aristocrat - taught in his mannerisms and speech , and so now he had made his way to the visiting nobility with a polite smile on his face and stood in front of them at a respectful distance.

"Your Ladyships and Dame," he said with a proper bow, "I apologize for the inconvenience - things have been a little hectic this evening. I hope your journey was well, once the ball is over the servants will show you to your quarters. And I assume you are the princesses Mirian and Sori? Welcome to Kagha." He said with a elegant and proper tone, he also have a small smile , "do you know the whereabouts of the rest of the family? Because it says here we are expecting a Prince and their Royal Highnesses, the King and Queen of Orion." And he referenced the detailed guest list that he had grabbed earlier on his way from helping with the decorations, " I am asking because I'd love to give you all a tour before the Ball. After all you don't want to be bored in a stuffy castle - especially when it's busy and you've been on a long journey."

He looked at group awaiting their answers and then he remembered he forgot to introduce himself, "Pardon me, where are my manners I am Mircea Rosenburg - son of the Duke and Duchess of Kagha and a Royal Knight , and the personal knight for His Majesty, Prince Zacharius. Her Majesty , Queen Venturi , wanted me to insure your safe arrival into our Kingdom."

The young male the noticed the squire shadowing the Dame. And he was interested in learning more about the young boy - he noticed the boys posture and the special Orion boots. If the boy and Dame were observant - they would notice he - Mircea, a Kagha citizen sported his own pair. They belonged to his father who was of Orion birth and he had another pair from when he went to Orion to prove his worth when he was younger - after all he had to prove he could wear the boots. His father was a respected Commander in Orion before he left the battlefield in favor of finding a family. He traveled lands - learning different trades , secrets and building upon his own wealth and success. He eventually came to Kagha where he met the Lady Esmeralda Vontê - daughter of the previous Duke and Duchess, and soon the two fell in love and were wed. His fathers experience , wealth, and cunning combined with his mothers fiery spirit, her own cunning and strength were a deadly combination and it seemed the stars fated them together. They were named the next Duke and Duchess after his grandparents stepped down and they have been in that position for a while now.

Mircea quite hoped the Orion Royalty thought he was alright.