Zacharius Venturi

26 :: Masculine :: Prince of Kagha :: Mentions: Mircea, Sori, Mirian, Edrys, Kazimir [dir]

The golden embroidered cup was filled to the brim with wine as Zacharius stood in front of a mirror. He was currently being dressed for the masquerade ball, and his face was resting in an amused- and albeit slightly confused expression.

He was staring at the airy, see-through fabric that rested gently on his chest. The sleeves drooped past his arms and dangled just below his waist, even when his elbows were cocked to the side. The band of fabric that hugged his torso was laced with intricate golden markings that wrapped around the entirety of the black base.

Kristopher is going to be sooo jealous.

As Zacharius was admiring such a beautiful piece of fabric, he felt a dainty hand lift his arm. Zak looked down to see a maid fitting a wrist-wrapping gauntlet of sorts to his forearm. The gauntlet hugged his skin but didn’t press on it or constrict his movement in any way, which Zak was surprised about. The same was soon done to his other arm and he could see the whole look starting to come together.

The maids were fitting a golden garment in the shape of what Zak could only guess was a ribcage to his body. He couldn’t help but run a finger along the intricate detailing of this piece. A big, fat pearl lay directly in the middle of the ribs, surrounded by carved details and gold-molded flowers. Just by the feel of the gold, Zacharius could tell it came from Mount Venturi. He felt a sense of pride for his kingdom blossom as he stared into the mirror.

Zak took a generous sip from his wine that was on the verge of overflowing, thinking back to just a few moments prior. He always teased Mircea, maybe not usually as bold as he had been back there, but he teased him nonetheless. What Zak was caught off guard by, though, was Mircea’s replies. Mircea wasn’t supposed to be the flirty sleaze bag in their relationship- he was supposed to be the one that smacked Zak upside the head for being inappropriate. It’s not like Zak was complaining, though. Aww, I’m starting to rub off on him.

A sudden cold touch on his stomach broke his train of thought as he looked down. A gold semi-chain link belt was being wrapped around his waist and fitted to him. The middle piece of the belt held the symbol of his kingdom; two axes crossing each other. Was this symbol supposed to look intimidating or prideful when the person wearing it looks like they just want to drag you into bed with them? Zak was starting to look more and more like he was trying to get hired in a brothel. This outfit was different from the usual royal clothing that he dragged around with him- and he loved it.

From his waist below lay dark baggy pants that cuffed at his ankles, revealing dress sandal-like shoes that were just as glamorous as the rest of him.

A cloak of sorts fluttered over Zak’s shoulders, settling just above his knees. The cloak was also transparent and held golden lacing near the bottom, accentuating the unique cut it bore. Multiple maids were now tending to him, fitting on other accessories with a certain speed that told Zak that Mircea had told them off. A one-sided shoulder pad of sorts was equipped to his ribcage garment, connected by thin chains. Zacharius had to put his cup of wine down when he watched a servant gliding over to him with a box that he just knew was going to be full of jewelry and rings.

The maid placed the box on the table and opened the lid, revealing exactly what Zacharius knew it would. It was almost blinding to look at. One by one, rings were plucked from the box and given to Zak’s fingers. Each ring was different in shape and embroidery- while some carried intricate little specks of rubies, others held big fat jewels on top of them, and some were simply lacking them. Now, Zak was known for wearing a good amount of rings, but this was a bit much. He had to take a few off just for the sake of fashion.

Right when Zak thought they were finished, he heard a stool being dragged across the room. For a moment he was about to tack a seat, but instead, one of the maids stepped on top of it. He was a tad confused at the closeness between them until he saw the little bowl with crushed red substances in it. Oh. Zak made sure to hold still as a soft brush began to swipe against his lids, followed by a wet, inky pen that marked his eye with a golden streak. The streak was bold against the scarlet shadows and brought out his unique set of eyes.

Finally, in came the finishing touch. A mask that held the wing of a butterfly on one side, and rich embroidery on the other. Pearls rimmed the eyes of the mask, followed by small specks of rubies scattered about it. Within moments the mask was on, and Zak found himself gaping at the view that the mirror held.

“I’m truly the fairest lady in all the lands, aren’t I?” Zak jokingly angled his head to the side, admiring the intricacy of the mask.

With no further need to wait around in his room, Zak headed for the door. Walking down the corridors, he gained a mischievous idea that included him visiting Kristopher. Zak found himself gravitating toward Kristopher’s room before he heard Mircea’s little voice in the back of his head, nagging him about the ball. Fine, Fine. Zacharius begrudgingly made a beeline to the front of the castle, where the Orin royal family would likely be lingering.

Be a good host.

Zak looked down at his attire.

Just because you’re dressed slutty doesn’t mean you get to be slutty. Zacharius nodded to himself, agreeing with his conscious.

His gait was poised as he strode down the halls. Maids and servants gave him slight bows in acknowledgment of his presence before returning to their duties.

Chin up, back straight, shoulders back. Don’t forget to smile.

A disturbingly forced smile was forged on his face.

Not like that- you look like you’re about to murder someone. Zak fixed his facial expression into a blank one, deciding only to hold that polite air around him when he meets the royal family.

As he neared the entrance to the castle, he felt a wave of nerves hit him. I haven’t met any pure Orinian before. Being the eldest prince of Kagha, Zacharius had studied every kingdom’s culture well. Orin was known for being battle-hardy and witty, thriving in the harshest environments. He also knew that it was customary for the royal family to fight for the throne. Pit against each other instead of being picked by their gender and age. It was a unique kingdom and stood out from the rest with that hierarchy.

Knowing Orin’s history with daggers, Zak expected at least some of their people to be wielding weapons. They’re coming to a foreign kingdom, after all. After coming to a kingdom that was rumored to be ruthless and cold, who could blame them for being wary? The least he could do would be to make them feel secure and give them an understanding of their surroundings. Mircea probably beat me to the touring.

The moment Zacharius stepped into the dimming light of the sun setting, he felt like a disco ball. The gold was reflecting hues of pinks and oranges, illuminating his body in every which way. To straying eyes, he looked like he had just descended from heaven. Luckily, a thin, wispy cloud maneuvered its way over the sun, ultimately allowing anyone to look at Zak without being blinded by a beacon of reflected light.

With a quick scan of his amber eyes, Zak managed to spot Mircea- who wasn’t dressed for the ball yet. The audacity of his hypocrisy.

Time for revenge. A deviously toothy grin tugged at the edges of Zak’s thinning lips.

Zacharius strode over to the group, quickly scanning the newcomers with a generous glance. He placed his hands on both of Mircea’s shoulders and squirmed his way into the conversation. In any other political event, Zacharius would’ve maintained a respectable demeanor, but on this occasion, when he could sense the nerves spilling from what seemed to be the eldest sister, he felt it better to look more so aloof and comfortable. Zak tended to warp himself to better accommodate the people around him, especially when they were of equal royalty.

While he didn’t hold any slack in his posture, his gaze softened. His hands slipped from Mircea’s shoulders as he did a polite, subtle bow to the royals.

“I am Prince Zacharius Venturi, eldest prince to the kingdom of Kagha and heir to the Kaghan throne, it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance-“ Zacharius looked at the two standing before him, who were shadowed by what seemed to be a knight and her squire. These two must be princess Mirian Orianna Thezmaer and Sori Rye Thezmaer. That leaves the king and queen, along with their son, Perseus, yet to arrive. “Your Highnesses.”

“I hope your travels to the Kingdom of Kagha haven’t drained too much energy, as it’d be a shame if you ladies were too weary to honor me with a dance at the ball.” Zacharius put his charm to work before directing his attention to Mircea.

“Lord Rosenburg,” Zacharius looked him up and down before continuing. “It seems you have yet to get ready for the ball, I’ll give their royal highnesses a tour of the castle in your stead,” A glint of mischief filled his seemingly gold eyes as he continued, turning back to the princesses standing before him.

“The young lord always tends to get ahead of himself- after all, it's been quite hectic here... He must’ve lost track of time,” In all reality, Mircea spent his time rushing Zacharius, who was the one slacking and losing track of time.

“Ever since the incident, he was never the same…” The last bit was mostly mumbled, but Zacharius was close enough for Mircea to hear the taunt. Oh, how he loved taking advantage of the scenario. Mircea wouldn’t be able to manhandle him in front of the public. Zak doubted he'd get away scot-free, though.

“The Kingdom of Kagha has much to offer, and I hope that the rumors don’t alter your opinions about us.” In this, Zacharius was very genuine. In fact, to keen ears, one could sense a slight wavering tone in the last few words of his sentence. Zacharius knew that Kagha was looked down upon for never opening their gates and living in solitude. Their choice to be left alone had warped stories and twisted lies about them to the point where it sickened Zacharius. His people- his kingdom deserved better. Kagha had its reasons to close itself off centuries ago. That doesn’t mean that the people of Kagha deserve to fall into their stereotypes.

As if rebelling against those cold, harsh rumors, Zak was warm and inviting. Of course, he kept a respectable posture, but he wasn't stiff nor trying to inflict intimidation, instead, he seemingly and lightly swayed with the light breeze. The salt that was carried from Prira's shores filled the air for a brief moment.

“I can show you to where you ladies will be staying the night, along with your knights’ accommodations-“ Zak tilted his head slightly, getting a better view of the squire that lingered close by. “and her squire’s, too,”

"If you wish, I can show you to the royal gardens, or perhaps the greenhouse. Honestly, the glass room is always a favorite among our people, but I personally prefer the southern part of the castle that overlooks Prira's ocean- ah, apologies, I'm going off on a rant, aren't I?"

Edrys Kolsvalk

22 Years || Female || Knight || Orin || Mentions: Kazimir, Mirian, Mircea, Arisse { ind. }

As Edrys awaited the answer of the princess, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a woman-like figure approaching, thinking nothing of it, Edrys stood still, her ears open, quitely waiting. The sounds of horses clapping the earths crust with there armored shoes echoed beneath the floor, the constant breathing of many plagued the woman's eardrums, the beating of her heart slowly gaining pace. Edrys was listening closely, silently, to everything and everyone. The woman was not comfortable in a place such as this, with little protection against fiery blades, and piercing arrows, she was defenseless. She couldn't protect the Princesses in scenario like that even if she wanted, she simply didn't have the man power nor the equipment. The woman was caught in her head. That was, until the figure bumped into Princess Sori, causing the Knight to flinch, and her hand quickly hiding beneath her cloak, her fingers gripping the hilt of her blade that hid within her dress, invisible to the naked eye. She held herself still, staring the woman down as she quietly mumbled something, keeping her head down. Filth. Bumping into her Highness, brushing it off. The audacity. Quietly, the woman gritted her teeth, her hands clutched beneath the hilt of her dagger, her nails digging into the cloth that covered the handle.

Standing silently, the Knight stood tall, keeping her bearings. She knew better than to speak ill or act out childishly in front of the offspring of the King and Queen, one, it was rather stupid and second, she could possibly be killed for such an act. Surely she could have been more understanding of the citizen, but the woman didn't even formally apologize to Princess Sori! She wished the Princess said something, or did something to punish the woman. If not, maybe Edrys would find her later on and give her a good beating.

If all of the things to remind Edryss of, she remembered that her squire, Kazimir had asked her something shortly before. Feeling his presence behind her, she tilted her head to the left, and whispered through clenched teeth, slightly annoyed by his obvious question.

"You fool, don't ask such idiotic questions! Of course you should. Have you learned nothing of what I have taught you?"

Looking forward once more, the woman clicked the roof of her mouth quietly, shaking her head briefly. It was probably best if she told Kazimir to take Princess Mirian's side, or to ask to escort her. Rather than shadowing Edrys, standing there like a complete mindless creature. The woman barely opened her mouth to speak only to shut it close as the Princess spoke to her. “Are you to be the guard assigned to us tonight? I hope you’re prepared to keep up with us.”

The Princess grinned, and Edrys nodded slowly. "Yes, Princess. I will be standing by your Highnesses sides as you walk about the palace, unless you, or Princess Sori feel otherwise. Until then, I, and my Squire, will be keeping guard of you both." Dipping her head respectively, Edrys lips tightened, feeling as if her words were unwarrented.

Glancing over towards the Princess, Mirian, Edrys lifted a brow. It seemed the princess was, experiencing a rather common emotion most feel when entering new enviorments, or awkward situations. Commonly known as, nerouvness. Asking quietly. "If I may ask, Princess Mirian.. are you, alright?"

If the Princess was abut to reply, it would have been interrupted as a figure came towards them. A man, dressed in a royal - like fashion, certainly no oridnary citizen. He dressed as if he were someone of great importance.. a prince? But, why would a prince come out here? Maybe it was a well respected servant, who knew.

He had respectively bowed to the Princesses, but it was short, as he intended on speaking to someone else. Edrys kept her head locked forward, refraining from looking behind them to see what the man was doing, but could hear small words exchange, and they did not sound friendly. It didn't effect Edrys, as long as they weren't directed at the Royal Family, she could care less. It wasn't long before the man made his way to the Princesses and Edrys.

"Your Ladyships and Dame."

Edrys looked at the man, slightly obvserving his appearance lightly. He didn't look exactly.. ball - ready. Or maybe, he wasn't planning on attending the event. Either way, she was not approving of his entrance, nor his attire. Though she didn't have a say in the matter, she certainly was disappointed in this first impression of the Kagha Kingdom. She expected so much more.

As the gentleman went on, apologizing, and making excuses about how the whole ordeal was simply chaotic, she clenched her jaw, her cheekbone shifting.

Well, this entire thing was off to a splendid start~ firstly, there is no one at the castle gates ready to introduce themselves to the Princesses, then, when someone finally decides to come, they are unfashionably late, and even forget to intoroduce themselves to Royalty! Yes, Edrys was indeed surprised he was the Personal Knight for the Prince, disappointed in the Prince's choice in choosing people.. but the way he dressed, and walked, it wasn't all too surprising.

Clearing her throat quietly, Edrys glanced to her Highnesses' and nearly once again attempted to speak, however another man came into view, and the Knight was silently shocked.

It seemed as if the man were radiating the colors of the sun, streams of light spewing off of his clothing, the gold and all the magnificent colors that emerged from within.

Edrys was not appreciative of it, it seemed as if the man were, showing off. But, before she could make a move, or speak, the man spoke, introducing himself as the prince.

Prince Zacharius.

His stance. His words. Everything about him threw Edrys off, she so dearly wanted to send him a look no one person could ever forget, however, this was a Prince, not just any Prince. A prince whoms homeland could be there only solution to surviving the Empire's horrid reign. She couldn't disrespect him any way or any sort.. it would be more than stupid of her, she couldn't think of the correct word, but foolish was not strong enough. It would be more of a death sentence is she were to upset the Prince, let alone his parents.

But nonetheless, she was not happy with his presence, yet it didn't show. Her face was blank, staring straight ahead, into nothing. However, her ears were wide open, listening to the Prince's voice and words very carefully, looking for any flaws.

“I can show you to where you ladies will be staying the night, along with your knights’ accommodations-“ the Prince had tilted his head a bit, seeming getting a better look of the squire that shadowed Edrys. “and her squire’s, too,”

Gritting her teeth, Edrys couldn't help it. Her eyes seemed to twist emotions, from once still, and calm, to a glint of anger.

Looking down to the ground beneath her shoes, that hid beneath her fur cape, the woman spoke after the Prince had finished, clearing her throat. "Prince Zacharius. I do hope I am not.. being rude to your Highness, but," she slowly glanced up at the Prince, making eye contact with his foul eyes, "but I would appreciate, if you didn't fling your eyes around my Squire. Your Highness."

Nikolas A. Venturi | 55 | M | King | Kagha | Mentions: Kinga

As Nikolas approached his wife’s rooms, he stopped for a moment to fish around in his surcoat for his mask. After a moment of fumbling with the voluminous fabric, he withdrew a heavy, elaborately carved golden mask in the shape of a lion’s head. He brought it to his face, then struggled to tie the scarlet laces behind his head with only one hand. Luckily at that moment a maid chose to exit his wife’s rooms, so he quickly flagged her down.

“Yes your Majesty?” she asked, far too loudly for Nikolas’s liking. Bringing a finger to his lips, Nikolas quickly shook his head before turning around and putting the mask to his face again, his other hand holding up the straps towards the maid. Apparently she understood his meaning, because slender fingers brushed against his sooty gray hair and dexterously secured the laces together. Without bothering to thank or dismiss the maid, Nikolas quietly opened the door to his wife’s suites and tiptoed inside.

He moved silently through Kinga’s rooms, carefully peeping around each doorway until he caught sight of his wife standing in her dressing room. He didn’t really register the mirror she was standing in front of, or have time to remember their reflective properties before he was quietly striding towards her and placing his hands over her ravishing golden eyes.

“Guess who?” he teased, his voice deep and rumbling with affection. However, Nikolas was too excited to see Kinga to stand still for long. His hands slid down to her shoulders, and then down her biceps to rest on her elbows. Of course the near foot of height difference between them meant that he had to hunch over rather comically, but that didn’t stop the king from enthusiastically dropping his mouth to Kinga’s ear.

“You look absolutely dazzling this evening my dear.” Nikolas whispered, or at least what passed for a whisper when it came to him. He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek before straightening back to his full height, dropping his hands from her arms and walking around her so that they were face-to-face. “I must say that I wasn’t sure about this ball for a while, but if it means that I get to see you in this dress for the next several hours, I give it my wholehearted approval.” His heart swelled with love and admiration for the woman before him, and Nikolas took off his crown so he could tip up his mask and show Kinga the cheeky grin he was currently sporting. The grin faded after a few seconds though as Nikolas remembered the reason for having the ball in the first place.

“Are we quite sure this is a good idea though? Allying with Orin? Our walls are strong and our soldiers ready for any move the Empress might make. Additionally, who’s to say that Orin ever intended to honor its treaty with Thrande in the first place? Everyone knows they’re cowards who would rather strike from the shadows than engage in honest battle.” Nikolas had voiced these thoughts to Kinga before and she had assuaged him before, but as the time to back out of the decision dwindled his doubts returned with new teeth. He moved to the nearest window, seeking the calming sound of waves on sand. Without turning around, he continued his rambles. “And are we certain about offering Zacharius in this alliance? I agree with you that we need a way to ensure their support, but I am wary of marrying our heir to a woman we have never met. What about proposing Kristopher instead? He’s as capable as his brother, and this way Zacharius can wait for a good Kaghan woman to produce heirs who are loyal solely to our kingdom.” Speaking his misgivings aloud settled Nikolas somewhat, and he shook his head as if physically pushing the thoughts aside. He turned back towards his queen and smiled apologetically, before sliding his crown on his arm where it rested like an enormous and cumbersome bracelet. Nikolas walked over to Kinga and took her hands in his own rough and calloused ones. “But there will be time enough to discuss these affairs later. For now what do you say to a dance, just the two of us for once instead of being surrounded by a mob of clamoring fools?”

Randolph Cornelius Thezmaer | 53 years | Male | King | Orin | Mentions: Moriah, Mirian, Zak, Orin soldiers, Orin Royals

“Darling, you are stunning.” He smiled at Moriah. She was wearing a blue dress with gold embroidery. It didn’t have the many layers that her ball gown would have.“Look out there. I can smell the water, even from in our carriage. There is so much activity and color in this city.” She could feel the snot oozing from her nose, which was red from constantly wiping it with a handkerchief. She decided to wait until she had to exit the privacy of her carriage to tend to it. If she could lessen the irritation of her offended nose, then it would feel better sooner…she hoped. She was beginning to run out of handkerchiefs. Hopefully, her personal servant would have more. Although she rarely knew her husband to lie, she had a hard time believing that she was stunning as he claimed. She felt like a mess. He was prone to exaggeration and flattery.

“Our offspring had better behave themselves. We have important matters to tend to. I will not tolerate asses,” he grumped.

People of Orin loved to party. It was a valid concern. It would make their position harder, if he had to lose the negotiating advantage, because he had to apologize for someone’s behavior. He smoothed his cream shirt with gold and blue embroidery, and fiddled with the golden chain looped around his neck. It held an emblem that was a symbol of the Orin crown. Her heard her release a little sigh, when his eyes were now directed at his feet. He was wearing the special boots that helped him to climb trees. The spikes in the toe and the heel were ostentatious covered with their gold leaf so that their purpose would be disguised. His pants were cream with the same embroidery as the top.

He could tell from his wife’s silence that the rocking of the carriage was making her nauseated. It was normal for her, and her illness would not have helped matters. They had traveled in silence for most of the journey. If they broke the silence, it was because they had an important question that had popped into their mind. It was normally a did you remember to have that done before we left. The carriage wasn’t really private enough for a more serious conversation.

He felt the carriage slow signaling the end of their journey. His wife wiped her nose. He jumped out as soon as the door was opened ignoring the help of a footman or the step down. He straightened upright wondering if that move had been worth it. He felt the daggers in his robes shift, and he gently adjusted those as well. He was glad that they were safe in their sheaths. It would be tragic to be impaled on his own blade as soon as he arrived, because he wouldn’t take the steps. The daggers were cushioned and muffled by his clothing so they didn’t clink. He was wearing a bulky chain that clinked, and a ceremonial sword belted to his side. They would disguise any unusual noise. The sword was what had thrown him off balance, because he was used to a smaller blade that didn’t get in his way and hinder his agility. The sword wouldn’t last at all in a fight. It was too fragile, thin, and decorative. However, if he moved quickly enough, he could still stab someone with it. He turned back and gallantly proffered a hand to assist his queen down from the carriage.

Once she poked her head out of the carriage she began to start. “Randolph. Where in the world are our attendants?” Her voice was imperious. If she wanted to get what she wanted, she had to act like there was no other option. She was going to get it. She wasn’t sure if Randolph was subtle enough to know that attendants meant their guards. They were exposed here. There would be many people attending this ball, but she didn’t want to shout out her insecurity.

“I’m sorry dear. I’ll find them. Hand me that used handkerchief, and I’ll have someone dispose of it.” He gestured to his offspring that were nearby to come hither. He didn’t want his children to get sick, but he didn’t want to leave his wife alone. They had decided that she was well enough to attend. There was too much at stake for her to not be here. More importantly, she refused to be left behind. She told Randolph that she would have been too anxious that he was botching everything up without her supervision. It had taken some time, but eventually he decided it wasn’t worth arguing with her about. Sometimes she got chilled and achey, but she was well enough to make the journey, as she wasn’t throwing up. He looked up and around to see what the security was like. He heard Mirian challenging their poor guard to keep up with them, and he shook his head. Frankly, he was just going to have to ignore all of his boyhood stunts if he decided to lecture her.

Randolph did a double take, when a young man of obvious noble lineage appeared. His smile, if it could be called that, was so forced. Maybe it wasn’t a smile. Maybe he was glaring, because he had the nerve to believe that people of Orin would betray them. Maybe it’s because they lived like hermits and they didn’t like sharing their home. Randolph could understand that. It took guts to glare at Randolph. After all, he had proved himself in combat time and time again.

He glared at anyone who glared because someone was rude. Only he was allowed to glare. Well, that and his wife, but she kept her glaring down to the citizens of her kingdom, because she had the self control to be polite. He gave the evil eye to the young noble. Yup. That young whelp must’ve had the nerve to show his displeasure, because now his face was blank.

After relieving his feelings through his facial expression he reverted to a more neutral expression. “Dame,” he ordered Edrss, “Have your squire get a servant to attend Her Majesty.” He indicated his wife. “Please take her to where she will be staying.” He glanced at the prince to see what he would do. “She would like to freshen up after such a long journey.” In reality, she was exhausted by the sickness and the journey, but that was none of their business. They really should’ve brought a doctor with them. “Please have an Orin knight attend to Her Majesty and then you and your squire can follow the rest of my family. We’ll be staying together for now unless they would like to see where they will be staying.” He wrapped his arms around his daughters in an embrace. "Where would you like to go?" he asked his children.

Salen Veida-Frez Venturi | 23 | F | Pan+Ambi/Poly | Princess | Kagha | Mentions; Ashara, Orin Royalty(Very Ind), Zak(Ind), Mirecea(Ind) Basil(Ind) Kris(Ind), Open.

After a bit of simply standing there, adoring the outfit that had been tailored for her, Salen walked over to her bookshelf. Technically speaking, she wasn’t supposed to be down there meeting with the Orin Royalty yet. And despite how terrible being late was, sometimes being early could be just as bad.

--

So surely she’d have time to read some of a book she’d been meaning to for a while now. Before she could grab it though, she heard a singular knock at her door. Immediately, the way it resonated in her ears told her who it was. After all, she’d heard the knock many times at this point. Ashara Zanni. Her devoted dame, at least for tonight. Though they certainly spent time together outside of that too, often going to the library within the castle walls.

--

Salen turned to the door, smiling as Ashara walked in. “Hey princess. Are you dressed yet- Oh my god you look amazing. Ahh! You’re so cute, girl. Making me envious over here.” She sounded happy, which was good, and Salen couldn’t help but blush a bit at the compliment.

--

She sighed and rolled her eyes as Ashara made her way over to the bed in the chamber and flopped on it. Salen hoped it didn’t ruin the dress the knight was wearing, because it looked great on her.

--

“Well, at least I know my date’s going to look amazing so I don’t have to.” Salen was sure her face went red at that, feeling the heat rushing to her cheek. “When do you want to start heading down? Or do you want to get ready for a bit longer?”

--

Salen grabbed the book she’d been meaning to grab earlier from her bookshelf before turning back to Ashara, using the book to hide her face as she composed herself for a second. She hummed lightly to herself when she finally lowered it, “Oh please, you look quite stunning too, Ashara. And I was planning on reading a bit before heading down. The actual event isn’t for a few more hours, after all, and someone was going to tour the guests beforehand.” Her own tone was rather calm, although undoubtedly genuine and joyful. She was fairly certain that the one doing the tour was going to be Mircea, and maybe her eldest brother, Zak. She couldn’t be completely certain, but she knew that she wasn’t obligated to be there and do it herself.

--

Salen did a quick once over of Ashara. She hadn’t been lying in her compliment, the dress was stunning on her. It allowed her to show off the muscle she had from being a knight, and the color certainly suited her. A dark blue with intricate silver design, long sleeves with her shoulders covered with delicate armor that almost reached her elbows. It was honestly breathtaking how Ashara managed to pull it off, the necklace and earrings truly tying in the silver designs. The outfit wasn’t anything over the top, it wasn’t meant to be, after all. But Salen had always been a fan of simple, natural beauty. A look that Ashara’s outfit pulled off perfectly. At least in Salen’s opinion.

--

Salen looked at her dame’s face, scrutinizing gaze taking in every detail. A habit she had with everyone, even as her own smile stayed soft and sincere. The ‘unique freckles’ that were truly sunspots weren’t hidden, which in Salen’s opinion? Was the right way to go. She’d always found them interesting, and beautiful in a way that Salen saw as natural shading. Allowing people’s eyes to get pulled to the perfect angles due to them. At least, that’s how it seemed with Ashara’s sunspots to her.

--

Ashara’s hair, on the other hand, was something that was quite untamable. It was a brown that almost perfectly matched the lady’s eyes, with voluminous layers that reached the middle of her back. It was always a mess, even after brushing it. But it was a lovable mess, a mess that almost didn’t even seem to be a mess, in Salen’s perspective. And anyone who didn’t believe so too, simply didn’t understand what beauty could be and sometimes already was.

--

Salen met her eyes, catching a look in them that she was fairly familiar with. She’d seen similar ones before, not quite the same- No one was the exact same as personalization existed, especially compared to Ashara. But she’d seen Basil’s version of it before, she’d seen her own version of it before. Her dame was tired. And that certainly wouldn’t do! After all, who else could Salen possibly dance with other than her darling dame?

--

She stopped her train of thought, heat lightly flushing her face… Maybe not dance, actually. But, well, protect her..? Keep an eye on her? Eat the food that would be there with her? But not dance. Well… Not unless Ashara requested one. Or if Salen requested one of her, but anyone would say yes to that. Obviously, she was the princess of Kagha. Besides, being flirtatious was Zak’s job! Not hers! Salen wasn’t flirtatious! Salen was a princess, she was supposed to marry status, marry someone who could help her family’s reputation and keep things good in the public eye. She was the only princess too, this time around. And she knew that Zak and Kris wouldn’t be doing much(if any) of those things. She was the only responsible one out of the three, after all.

--

But back to the point. Her Ashara was tired, and that simply wouldn’t do. Salen’s eyes narrowed, and she spoke, tone calm, caring, and almost doting. Though, still just as soft as her smile. “Despite how, and excuse my bluntness, simply perfect you look, my dearest dame. I must say, however, you seem tired. Perhaps you should rest? Feel free to use the bed that you’ve already welcomed yourself to, not that I mind, of course.” Salen gave an almost teasing smile, though one nowhere near the same level as the ones she knew her brothers to be able to reach. She didn’t get much practice on playful tones, just diplomatic ones, in all honesty.

--

She held the smile for a moment, before she realized how flirty it could be taken, and cleared her throat. Cheeks undoubtedly flushing red. “I can wake you once I’m done reading my book and we can head to the masquerade ball together. It’d be of no problem to me.” Salen took a seat, careful not to ruin the dress, on her bed next to where Ashara had flopped down, book on her lap as she looked at Ashara with a caring, sincere smile on her face.

The Princess watched her family and citizens dismount their steeds, her own horse, a brutish war-stallion formally named Kauriraris but affectionately nicknamed Chex, snorting at a servant that came to collect him and take him to a stall. The stallion was large and overpowering to many, 20 hands tall, a seal bay hue, he was a dark, formidable force that kept many in her own kingdom at bay. He was smart to an almost stupid extreme, his stall door needing to be bolted in multiple places out of his reach to make sure he didn't escape constantly.

Sori's gaze flickered across to Edrys, a Knight of Orin, as she dismounted and came towards her, followed swiftly by the squire, Kazimir. Edrys was a respected warrior, especially to have been given the Knight role among her people. Many strove to be ready for war, parents pushed their children to be soldiers or have soldier training, even if they later returned and went for different jobs among their society.

To wear the boots of a soldier were to wear the boots of respect.

"No, Dame Kolsvalk, thank you," she replied to the knight when asked if she'd like to be escorted in. "I quite fear leaving their Majesties without the protection of yourself and your squire." And, truly, she was.

Her mother was quite ill, even if their physicians had told them that the sickness was just a fever and would soon pass and her mother would be quite well once again, it still riddled her with anxiety. She feared to think what the Kagha Royals or the Kagha people would think if they knew the Orin Queen was sick whilst arriving at their ball. Showing weakness to a potential enemy.

So enraptured with the Knight and her own thoughts, Sori failed to notice a small figure walking into her until she felt the touch, and she flinched, turning more out of surprise than anger. Black hair, a flash of green eyes, a very pretty dress, but a ducked head and quiet words. A dressed-up servant, perhaps?

"It's alright," she said, making sure she was heard over the crowd. "In a sea of bodies such as this, it was bound to happen." The ginger princess turned her gaze to the knight, keeping a charming smile on her face. "It's quite alright," she repeated, as if making sure the knight knew.

Some knights and soldiers were fiercely protective of those wearing the crowns, and Edrys had never been any different. She didn't wish for the poor serving girl to get punished for a simple mistake, a step in the wrong direction.

The young womans eyes sparkled when they danced over to her sister, Princess Mirian. Her charming smile stretched into a devious grin filled to the brim with mischief. Whilst she might not have a good relationship with her sister, they'd sooner tear one another apart than share kind words, Mirian was still her sister, still her flesh and blood. Through the rivalry that was often sported between Orin Royal siblings, Sori still found room in her heart to love Mirian.

"Dame Edrys Kolsvalk," Sori muttered to the other princess when Mirian was close enough, spotting the moments of embarrassed movements and assuming it was because she'd forgotten the name of the knight. "That's her name, use it well, Mirian." Her voice wavered over towards teasing, giggling and leaning away, tilting her head. "I'm sure you will dance with more people tonight, Mirian, I'm very sure," the sarcasm dripped from her voice like honey from a spoon.

She loved Mirian, yes, but they had always matched energies and never had enough patience to diffuse rather than antagonize.

So many people all at once, Sori's attention jumped to a new arrival. Her smile returned to a charming one, taking a step closer to hear him better among the crowd. The ginger-haired woman gave a slight curtsey, bowing her head. She may have been a princess, but manners did not escape her, her parents had made sure of that. The dip of her head allowed her to take in his clothing, not quite yet fit for the ball, and a pair of-

A pair of Orin Military Boots.

"It's a pleasure, Lord Rosenburg," she said, lifting her gaze and deciding to not mention the boots just yet. She didn't wish to imply that she was interrogating him. "If I don't get to talk to Her Majesty herself, I'd thoroughly enjoy if my thanks could be extended on behalf of our family."

Good impressions, good impressions.

Ah, a member of the royal family had stepped into the area, the gold eyes with black hair an unmistakeable factor of identifying their family. She inhaled, pushing her shoulders back and chin up, directing her attention to him rather than Lord Mircea Rosenburg.

At his bow, Sori did a small, polite curtsey, before returning to her original posture, taking a short moment to turn her head slightly to the side to check the location of Mirian, Edrys and Kazimir. "The pleasure is ours, Your Highness," Sori said, taking in the Prince's appearance. The eldest prince, the one that, according to Kagha customs, would take the throne. She'd studied their kingdom enough to know that much.

"Rumors do not define a kingdom, Your Highness," the princess said, smile dropping slightly. Kagha had been isolated for so long, it was hard to catch a glimpse of many of the rumors about them, but she hoped her words would extend to rumors and half-truths about her own kingdom. "Rumors are just that, rumors. Half-truths and lies twisted to tarnish the reputation of those that have done no wrong and had no part of the wrongs committed."

As a Princess of Orin, she wore her kingdoms crimes on her ankles like weights, on her shoulders like boulders, on her back as if they were her weights to bear. As a Princess, they were, even if she'd had nothing to do with the crimes committed. She'd had nothing to do with abandoning the other kingdoms, and yet she paid the price every time someone met her eyes with disgust or looked down upon her for the crimes committed before her time as ruler.

The words shared by the knight, asking the prince to not stare at Kazimir, had her straightening even further, palm shifting to her thigh. The last thing any of them needed was to start a fight or have bad encounters of one another. Her eyes flashed across to Edrys, before the words of her father met her ears.

Ah. Mother.

"There are their Majesties, King and Queen of Orin," she said quickly, stepping forward between Edrys and Zacharius, exhaling.

"We need these people on our side, Dame Kolsvalk," she muttered, almost pleading, before she lifting her gaze to her parents, listening to her fathers words. So they would be going to her mother and fathers rooms first, supposedly. And then she, personally, would like a tour of the castle.

"After we learn where mother's rooms are, I'd quite like the offered tour, if that's alright, father," she said softly, leaning into the embrace her father gave.

Kazimir Payne | 16 | Male | Squire | Orin | M: Edrys, Mircea (ind), Zach (ind)

One could describe Kazimir as a kitten and they wouldn’t be wrong. Similar to the feline child, he is impressionable and he is easily distracted, both by words and by actions. Like a cat, he is revolted by water—particularly when it is mixed with soap. However, this was not any old day where he could potentially get away with greasy, grimy hair. This was the day; a day that would change everything. So he wasn’t dressed in his usually light green tunic and brown, rolled-up pants. Instead, he was dressed to impress. Or at least more than what his usual get-up would’ve.

He wore a thin, off-white cotton shirt with flowy sleeves that were buttoned at his wrist with a gold clasp. Over that was a lightweight, nutty-brown, leather breastplate. It was decorated with small drawings of flowers and vines that swirled around on the material. On his left shoulder was a matching pauldron that was strapped over the breastplate. On it was a jagged dagger, the symbol of the Orin people. His right shoulder was left bare and it was throwing him off balance a little. Over it was a rich, leafy green cape that hung just below his bottom. There was no hood in case he’d put it on and ruin his hair. Like always, it was up in a bun, but this time it was first braided and two strands of hair had been pulled out to frame his face. Originally there had been a ring of daisies around his do, but they had long fallen off during their ride. Around his neck was where a small mask hung. It was green, like his cape, with cream highlights on the edges. Three brown duck-feathered fletchings were attached to the right side of the material. It was simple, but it would do its job. His legs were covered by a pair of brown fitted pants. They were lined with gold threading to make them look more official. Finally, his boots were the traditional Orin Military assigned ones. Both points on both ends. He was very proud of them, although they made his feet hot.

Currently, he was really feeling the heat. It was as if he was standing in a pool of acid and he started to regret dismounting Kappers. Then again, he wasn’t too sure how much more riding he could handle. He wriggled his toes inside his shoes and he felt the clamminess. Ew, he’d probably need another bath.

When his mentor responded to him, he began to look around shiftily at his surroundings. There were plenty of strangers doing things that strangers do. A lot of them looked like palace servants. However, they all seemed too busy to notice him. So, he stuffed his throwing knives into his deep pockets. Then he took the sheathed saxe knife and slipped it into his sleeves. He leaned down to his lower leg as if he had an itch. Then he let the blade fall into his boot and it landed neatly beside his foot. The handle poked out, so he covered it up with his pant leg. Hopefully, he’d have enough time to get it out if he needed it. He did the same thing with his dirk. This time, however, the tip landed on his ankle. Luckily, it was sheathed. This would make dancing a bit awkward, though. He already had two left feet.

He zoned out for a moment when a pretty butterfly passed and he thought how it was intriguing that its eyes were on its wings. He pictured himself with his own eyes on his arms and shuddered at the thought. That was a creepy thought. Especially how the face looked. The eyebrows would move, but there wouldn’t be anything underneath. Wait. Would it just be skin or would it be a hole in his skull? Would bone show? What if hair grew there? What if he dyed the hair to look like he had eyes there? That would be weird. Er, weirder.

Oh look, he thought, someone’s coming. It was a man who seemed at least halfway dressed for the actual ball. Or maybe not dressed for it at all. Kaz wished he was like that. Not in some stuck-up garb that he was forced to wear. The leather was sticking to him through the thin shirt and he wanted to go home, strip nude, and wade in a creek. Then the damned sun gleamed off of something shiny. That shiny thing was on the man’s feet. Kaz squinted as he peered and realized that the man was wearing Orin boots.

“How did he get those?” Kaz breathed.

Did he steal them? He felt alarm bells ringing in his mind for a split second as he panicked. If this man, Mircea Rosen-something, did steal this pair then there could be an insider. If there was an insider—possibly among them—then the royal family would be in trouble. Right? That sounded right. He turned towards Edrys, but another person stepped up.

This one was a prince. Prince Zacharius, the eldest and the heir, if Kaz remembered correctly. The royal was fully dressed and was wearing something that must’ve been a Kagha traditional outfit because he hadn’t seen anyone from Orin wear something like it. He wondered if all of the royals would wear something similar. His mind also wandered to what would he and his family look like with something like it on. Soon thereafter he wished that he could wipe that image away. Maybe it was stylish here, but he hoped that it would never pick up at home. Dad didn’t have the muscle to pull it off. Nor did he, but he didn’t want to admit that.

The prince seemed regal, as a prince should be, but in a polite manner. It was enough to remind Kaz that he was lesser, but it wasn’t demeaning. There was a lot of boring talk, but it was in a welcoming, friendly tone. Blah, blah, Kagha, blah, blah rumors, blah, blah ladies, and…why is he looking at me?

Immediately, Kaz turned his head towards Edrys for guidance. He wasn’t paying attention and didn’t know what was happening. He was completely clueless. However, he didn’t need to say anything because his mentor, who had wisely been attentive, already did. She sounded dangerous and her tone reminded him of a growl. What had happened? His next words answered that for him, but he still was slightly befuddled. For a brief time he wrestled with the idea to ask for clarification. In the end, he decided not to.

Mirian Orianna Thezmaer

23 | F | Princess of Orin | Mentions: Sori, Edrys, Mircea, Zach, Randolph (All indirect)

"Dame Edrys Kolsvalk, that's her name, use it well, Mirian." The elder princess of Orin could feel her cheeks heating up with embarrassment at her sister’s admonishment, and she cursed her body for betraying her in what was undoubtedly a very obvious way. Mirian couldn’t come up with any witty retorts to Sori’s sarcastic response, so she settled for giving her sister a steady glare. She was so intent on burning a hole through Sori’s face using nothing but her eyes that she barely registered the approach of the Kaghan man who came to greet them, nor the quiet question from Edrys. However because she was so focused on Sori’s eyes, she noticed the slight gleam of interest that appeared. Mirian followed Sori’s gaze down to the man’s boots, and her own eyes widened at what she saw there. Those are Orin climbing boots, or I’m a fruit-drunk squirrel, she marveled internally. The surge of amazement was quickly followed by suspicion, as Mirian was well aware that those boots were not available to merely anyone.

She took a closer look at the man, noting his considerable inky black hair and dark red-brown skin. Probably not an Orin native then. His build seemed athletic enough that it was plausible he earned the boots through skill, though normally military service was also a requirement. Either way, there was more to this man than there seemed and Mirian resolved not to underestimate him. She had barely finished her train of thought when yet another Kaghan man strode out of the palace towards them, his frame tall enough and slung with enough gold to render him virtually unmissable. How is he so comfortable being so noticeable? Mirian hated drawing unnecessary attention to herself, yet this royal (because what else could he be) seemed content to announce his presence all the way to the rooftops. As he drew closer Mirian couldn’t help but notice his luxurious hair and toned body. She felt her cheeks warming again. What kind of ball is this where people are running around half clothed? However her blood quickly turned to ice upon hearing the man introduce himself. Prince Zacharius Venturi. Heir to the throne. And the man my parents might force me to marry. Her muscles tensed, and without realizing it Mirian’s hands curled into fists. Thankfully, the prince continued to ramble on, giving Mirian enough time to gather herself for the (Fourth? Fifth?) time that evening.

“Prince Zacharius. I do hope I am not.. being rude to your Highness, but I would appreciate, if you didn't fling your eyes around my Squire. Your Highness." Edrys’s prickly tone brought Mirian back to the present, and she noted the knight’s sharp glare with interest. Guess I’m not the only one who isn’t particularly charmed with the crown prince. Of course, then Sori had to come in and play peacemaker. Mirian gritted her teeth. You’re not queen yet Sori. Rein it in a little. We are equals, if not betters, with these people and they will treat us and our entourage with respect. The rising tension between Edrys and Prince Zacharius was instantly deflated by the arrival of Mirian’s parents, the great King and Queen of Orin. Mirian wasn’t happy that her mother had decided to come. The entire royal family outside of the country at once? It seemed like the perfect opportunity for the Empire to swoop in and take over. At least if her mother had stayed home there would be someone for the people to look to. Mirian felt the weight of her father’s arm descend upon her shoulders, and allowed his embrace to steady her. She may not agree with his decision to pursue this alliance, but he was still king and that meant she was honor and duty-bound to obey him.

"After we learn where mother's rooms are, I'd quite like the offered tour, if that's alright, father." Sori’s voice was soft, but still loud enough to carry to Mirian’s ears. The eldest child of the Orinnian royalty raised her head up to look the Crown Prince of Kagha directly in his piercing amber eyes.

“Lead the way to Her Majesty’s rooms Prince Zacharius. I’m quite looking forward to seeing what the palace of Kagha has to offer.”