Kagha
Twenty-Four || Male || House Talmeren - "The Pale Bear" || Kaghan Commander || Mircea (ind), Zak, Kris, Acilia, Basil

"Again."

He stood beside Orin, arm resting on the horse's armored neck. He had been asked to ensure they were training today, and that he would not personally be involved; they didn't want their Commander covered in fresh cuts, after all. Not that he would be. He watched the two brothers train in separate spaces, each determined, fighting as though they were in a time of war. Being the princes, he had to watch them. He didn't mind, though. They were rather... interesting to be around. Especially where Mircea and the servants got involved.

Some of the knights stopped to look at him, as if waiting to see what they would be told next. He just scoffed. "I said again, you idiots. Again does not mean 'I want to stop and stare at the Commander so I get a swipe from someone's sword'. It means train until I tell you not to. You don't get a chance to stop and look to me for orders while a blade's at your neck, you pansies. Now get back to it." His deep voice rumbled over the flat courtyard, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the princes falter as they stifled laughs. Shaking his head, he turned to Orin and, wrapping an arm around the armor covering his neck, pulled himself easily into the saddle.

The rest of training went fairly smoothly- a couple of the knights gave him glances when he and Orin trotted around, ensuring they were aware of their surroundings by taking his own sword and swinging at some of them, most- but not all- parrying. Those who didn't had their armor, and they got a chance to feel the real blow of a sword against that of a trainer's, for a change. At one point, one of the men's blades came up to barely hit Ka's leg; by then, the man began to apologize profusely, calling himself "Azon of house Brath, son of Barilius" as if Kagha cared that a lord's son was training with the rest of them.

After all, just about every one of them belonged to a house. The palace guard, the royal guard... the families paid well to get their children in with the best of them, but there was a knight from the occasional nameless house. It was more admirable for them- they earned their house. They weren't entitled to it.

He wrapped training up when the sun was directly overhead, giving enough time for... anyone to do anything, really. Noble families had a tendency to take a long time to prepare, especially if they prepared their children and servants. Of course, at the ball, only the most elite families would be there, since three kingdoms were invited- all the royals, certainly. Technically, the Empire was four kingdoms, but that was a taboo topic for Neverius Taian... no matter. Nobility would always be nobility.

Nodding at the princes as they finished, he vanished off into a corridor, heading in the direction of the palace stables. Before he could head to the barracks, he'd have to put Orin back where he belonged. As if sensing his own name in Ka's thoughts, the horse whinnied, head bobbing as he slowed. Ka shook his head, an eyebrow raised at his steed. "You're one to talk. I don't need you going and kicking the servants again, especially not when they're Orinian." He patted Orin's armor. Don't need you going and bruising that crybaby squire of mine again. In the castle, Orin had quite the... reputation. At least once, he kicked both of the princes, many of the personal guards, almost all of the servants, and, very likely, Salen. Courtesy of her brothers.

But Orin never kicked Kagha, which could be taken as a good omen...

They were quick to get to the stables- from there to the training grounds wasn't far, in case knights ever needed to quickly travel from one place to another. It was simple, even if it all was in a secluded off area near the lower section of the castle. After all, newcomers and the common citizens didn't want to watch knights kill training dummies. It didn't look good for the royals. So they were sectioned off. Not that it bothered Ka- a stable was a stable; it didn't matter whether it was in the poorest reaches of the city, or on display in Taevarie's castle.

Dismounting his horse when they arrived, he led Orin to his specific stall carefully, ensuring he was tied up, and removed his saddle and bridle. Not much was different about Orin's stall- just the fact that there were cords and hooks everywhere. One was to tie his muzzle so it didn't raise too far; others were to keep his hind legs in place. Because of how he was sequestered, his food and water trough were directly in front of his head, sticking out from the wall. It made things less complicated, though he did still nip at the stablehands when they went to refill either of the two. If there was one thing to be said about Orin, it was that he did not enjoy people who weren't Ka.

As he left, he gave Orin's tack to one of the servants, who then went off and set it on a wall. He didn't watch, though; he had more important things to do. Despite it being much earlier than the ball, he needed to prepare. Were Orin to get hostile with the guards they brought, or, heck, should the Empire, a proper setup would need to be arranged so they would be prepared. So his steps were quick and long as he headed straight for the barracks, easily navigating his way through the empty halls. It would, typically, be peculiar, how empty it was, but the guards were at the barracks by now, and the royals and servants in preparation. No one would be using the halls.

Unceremoniously, he charged through the doors of the barracks, which got everyone looking up at him with a puzzled expression. He ignored them, taking the stairs two at a time as he climbed the tower, even if he was in no hurry. At the end, he found himself greeted by a nosy squire and a table with a map pinned down in the center. "Greetings, Commander Kagha, sir! Would you like me to get your armor for the ball prepared?" As Ka moved to stand in front of the map, he gave a sideways glance to the squire. Really, it was more of a glare, an expression filled with venom and the desire to burn him in- "If you would like to." The young man seemed not to notice it, though, skipping off as if his head was full of roses.

Idiot.

He pulled markers out of a drawer- little red and gold carved men- and started placing them in specific spots around the map, along the ballroom walls. There were few doors in the large room- only enough for discreet travel- but he set it so that three guards would be placed evenly between those on the same wall, two on each side of the large, opening doors, and somewhere between six and eight that would surround the King and Queen, enough to keep them well-guarded alongside having their own personal guard with them. Practically an entourage of knights. How about that.

-

Kagha walked down the empty halls, satisfied with the way he arranged the guards. Each was informed prior of where they'd be; knowing the loyalty of knights, they'd be there, and they'd be prepared in all their colors. Even he was allowed to keep his own colors this time- courtesy of the royals, he had been given armor for this very ball that was mainly in his house colors- black and white, for Talmeren's pale bear. The insignia emblazoned on his lightly-armored chest (light armor for light movement should he need to fight) was a white bear head with a black eye and nose, covered by the red and gold emblem of Kagha.

Aside from that, his armor was black head-to-toe, lined with intricate- but somehow, beautiful- white and gold patterns, metal with a red sheen linking the two together. And he had been given a mask entirely in gold patterns. It covered the majority of his face, leaving his blue eye the only part uncovered, anyone not from Kagha led to question the mystery of the man in the mask... he wasn't wearing it, though. For the moment, it was tucked beneath his armor.

"You're free to go, however, mouse."

Down the corridor, he heard a deep voice speaking to someone, echoing through the hallways. He paused, listening, as he lightly stepped closer. For once, he was glad to have lighter armor. "...won't tell a single soul. I'll say that I was in a small accident while organizing the shed." That voice... he'd say it sounded familiar, but there were a lot of people he met. A servant, perhaps? One of the gardeners, it seemed. He very likely knew which one, judging by the way he was talking. And his guess was proven when a shorter man, neck bleeding, ran right past him.

He scowled. Another thing to take care of, I suppose.

He was fairly close, now; he watched as the woman walked in the other direction as if nothing had happened, as if she was as innocent as daytime of being bright. His pace quickened as he moved to catch up with her. She had gone after Basil, of all people. Mircea would not be happy with that. He was, appropriately, named after a rather sweet spice. He could hear Mircea now: "No one disrespect the spice, do they? Beats the spice to death? Good. So tell me who did."

It wasn't long before he caught up with the woman, and, wrapping an arm around her neck, he drew her up against the wall. A knife quickly exposed itself from his arm and he held it at her throat, face directly next to hers as he pulled her from the direction she was walking.

"Well, hello," he whispered, in a voice laced with as much poison as he could muster, "what's a Lady like you doing all alone in a place like this?"

Zacharius Venturi

26 :: Masculine :: Prince of Kagha :: Mentions: Orin royals, Edrys, Kazimir, Kagha [ind]

Zacharius couldn’t help but notice the continuously shifting air of mixed emotions that surrounded him. For one, he had noticed a familiar look that was given by one of the princesses when he first arrived. The kind of look he’d obtain by mostly the women of Kagha whenever he strolled through Prira’s cobbled streets, or took his chances fishing at the docks. What caught his eye, though, was the curl of her fists shortly thereafter.

That’s odd. Zak noted the eldest sister’s tension.

What does she know about me that I don’t know about her? Zacharius didn’t spare the woman a glance.

She couldn’t know about the expedition. Commander Kagha was the only one there. The rest of the soldiers had sworn to me they wouldn’t tell a soul. I made sure of that. An itching rise of guilt and nerves bubbled within him, yet Zacharius kept his cool.

If not that, then what is she so damn pissed about? Zacharius couldn’t help but try to search her suppressed glare for answers. He made it obvious that he was aware of her issue with him, yet he made no further comment or gesture to throw her off.

Now, Zacharius may be a wild child, but he knew his manners. Apparently, this princess didn’t.

You’re here to ally with us. Not the other way around. His eyes said it all before he tugged them away from her. He hadn’t once revealed a bitter look and had retained subtlety throughout.

“The pleasure is ours, Your Highness,”

The soft words made his eyes flicker with intrigue. The other sister was like a breath of fresh air. She was living proof to Zacharius that the lingering glares weren’t just an ‘Orin’ thing. At least one of the sisters was taught how to be proper in front of company.

Princess Sori’s next words made Zacharius’s convincingly polite smile slightly soften into a genuine one. Kagha and Orin both had their faults, but their previous ruler’s mistakes do not define their current ruler’s choices.

“I hope this is one of many topics that we end up agreeing with,” Zacharius held eye contact with the princess, as he was taught to- but also partly because he wanted to. A part of him that had been to Black Hill Prison wanted to search for errors or doubt. It was a subconscious habit that had taught him how to derive the best and most reliable information. Perhaps an even smaller part of him was simply captured by the woman’s consistency.

Zacharius tore his eyes off of the princess when he felt a stare burning into the side of his face. He looked down to see Mircea glaring up at him. While Mircea maintained a steady outlook, years of being glued to his side told Zacharius that Mircea wanted to punt him back into the little pit that he crawled out of. If he wasn’t currently in the presence of Orinian royalty, he would let a hearty laugh slip.

Annoying Mircea was his favorite pastime.

“This contains the schedule for the tour along with-“

Zacharius almost instinctually blocked out what Mircea was saying. This was also another habit he gained. It was quite a useful one, too. This habit was the result of being bombarded with his schedule every morning, afternoon, and night, ever since he was a child.

“Basil worked hard on that garden,”

The name of the young gardener made Zacharius perk back up and forced him to listen to the rest of Mircea’s sentence.

I wonder how Basil’s fairing right now. He’s probably still in the garden, cursing at the pests trying to taint his pretty flowers. The thought of the young man lightened Zacharius’s gold eyes.

He plucked the notebook from Mircea’s offering hand and pretended to scan it thoroughly. I’m not reading all of this.

Off-schedule tours are the best tours, anyway.

Zak knew Mircea wanted to give him a long rant about staying on schedule, but right now, Mircea could only give a warning through his angry little eyes. God, it was funny seeing him mad.

“Says the prince who looks like he’s constipated, fix that smile of yours before they think you’re looking down on them.”

You whore. That is what Zak would’ve said in a bored, teasing tone, but refrained from doing so. He was already self-conscious about his smile, and now here he was, wondering if he should fix it up more. My smile’s fine you conniving little man.

He was about to make his own muttered retort when a new voice met his ears. He searched and met the owner’s eyes. Ah, the Dame. He could see a glint of anger flash in her jade-green eyes as she spoke. While her words were forcefully laced with the hoax of respect, Zacharius could only allow his faint smile to darken into the sliver of a frown.

I can think of thirty punishments that I’d give to a commander who’d dare order me with such temerity.

Perhaps Orin was different about their hierarchy with their knights, though.

No. This is just blatant disrespect.

This woman seems to forget she’s in his lands. Surrounded by his soldiers. Talking to a man whose infamous title that's commonly addressed among his platoon as a merciless bear.

The squire behind her seemed genuinely confused as if he was off in another land and only just came back to reality when he heard the dame speak. Zacharius could feel tensions rise within moments. I’m guessing the dame isn’t the best at socializing. Or she simply doesn’t care... We’ll change that.

Zacharius was playing the polite, aloof card, but most of these people didn’t seem to care for it. They didn’t seem to even want to repay his charity and leniency with a simple grateful look or even a sugar-coated smile. All except for Princess Sori. He wanted to gain a threatening tone and lower the octaves in his voice with a few brusque words, but he refrained. Unlike the dame, he’d show restraint and get that inkling of petty revenge by simply appearing to be uninterested and unshaken by her audacity.

Luckily, Princess Sori made her way in between him and the dame. Whether it was because the dame had a knack for causing fights, or that Sori didn’t know how Zacharius would react, perhaps both, Zacharius could feel a chuckle on the rise. He didn’t let it escape, and instead, let the bit of amusement he had die out at Sori's next words.

“King and Queen of Orin,” His eyes rose beyond their little group to meet that of more aged ones.

Before Zacharius could greet them, he felt Mircea brush past and strained his ears to listen to Mir’s quiet words.

“Mind yourself around Dame Kolsvall. It would seem she has deemed herself to not like you. And there’s something they’re not telling us about the King and Queen, so just keep your eyes open. Something’s not right.”

It seems Mircea also caught on.

Zacharius acknowledged Mircea’s words with a slight nod in their direction, which would’ve looked like he was bidding farewell to them.

Before Zacharius could continue his train of thought, he heard the damned words “Payback,” followed by a cold heel pressing down on his poor, unfortunately, exposed toes.

Why did he have to were sandal-like shoes? Did the gods look down on him so much?

Zacharius tucked in his bottom lip and bit it to suppress any extra motion that would reveal he was in pain. Instead, he rolled his eyes up slightly and had a tight smile tugged on his face. I’ll get you back, you shit. Thus began the endless cycle of getting revenge.

When the King finally arrived, they immediately took charge without giving a proper introduction, or even acknowledging Zacharius’s ranking.

Although the man was foreign, his sudden embrace with his daughters reminded Zacharius of his own father. King Nikolas Venturi. The man was a towering, compacted pile of pent-up energy, anger, and love. Zak carried both very fond and cold memories of his father.

Stop thinking and reminiscing about your dad like he’s already dead. Zak shook the thoughts off and focused on the majesties in front of him. Once again, he did a polite bow on their arrival.

On the foreign King’s order, Zacharius looked down at the notes that Mircea left him with.

“Right this way then, your majesties and royal highnesses,” Zacharius turned swiftly, leading the way.

“After we learn where mother’s rooms are, I’d quite like the offered tour, if that’s alright, father,” The collected voice that Zak had familiarized with Sori was contrasted against her sister’s tone. Yes, he was comparing the two.

“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.”

Zacharius took another glance down at the notes and then collected his hands together behind his back. Eh, I know this castle like the back of my hand.

“I believe the people of Kagha are the soul of the castle and of Kagha’s lands, and I, personally prefer the town beneath the castle to be more of a filler when you’re looking for awe and excitement. I guess my judgment is biased since I’ve grown up in this castle, though.” Zacharius replied, looking over his shoulder to make eye contact with the eldest sister before retracting his gaze.

He could see the tension in some of the Kaghan soldier’s eyes at Zacharius’s seemingly exposed posture. He was being tailed by Orin royals, who were known for their skill with close combat and their knack for always keeping a dagger on them. Not to mention the broody knight and a few other Orinian soldiers who were following close behind. An armored clump of soldiers began making a beeline toward Zacharius, likely getting the urge and sense to provide the heir to Kagha with protection. Zacharius eyed their ringleader down, shaking his head softly as they backed down. He wouldn’t want the royal family to feel like they need to reach for their weapons- weapons that Zacharius knew they would have. Even if this occasion was free of violence, there were bound to be hidden daggers. Years of experience taught Zacharius that much.

He made his way to the massive, open doors that were the entry to the castle. He had rarely seen these doors closed.

“Your Majesties chambers are just down these corridors,” Zacharius, now nearly walking backward, said to the King and Queen. While he was facing them, he took note of the Queen's reddish nose. She had a proud and polite posture with a regal air that reminded Zak of Salen. But, there was something off about her that he couldn't quite understand; something that he was all too familiar with. His stare didn't last more than a few moments as he directed his attention to the castle.

Kagha’s colors were gold and red, and the castle lived up to that. The inside of the castle always had a certain warm undertone, and right now, it was especially colorful due to the sunset. Windows were scattered along the walls with big, red and gold drapes with Kagha’s symbols hanging just above them.

The pillars were intricately designed and each one told its own story. Some pillars had a boar’s head holding the ceiling, while others had men with axes as they lay their lives down for their kingdom. The flooring was tiled yet not of a marble consistency. The tiling was a porcelain texture that had a creamy white glint to them, while the walls were made purely of concrete, stone, and other substances and gave the walls a beige coloration.

The hallways were tall and intricate with pillars that formed constant archways on either side. Lanterns hung from the sides and illuminated flowers of all kinds that had been imported from foreign countries. The aroma of this certain hallway was filled with a faint pollen scent that reminded Zacharius of his expeditions across the sea, where he encountered multiple cultures and spices.

Zacharius was nearing a large, arched window that illuminated two wooden doors. As he neared these doors, he couldn’t help but take a peek out the window. The view was absolutely stunning. Oranges, pinks, reds, and pale blues littered the sky as the sun began to set. The ocean reflected the colors, only breaking its hues when the pale waves would crash on the white, sandy shores. Children and common folk who weren’t attending the ball were playing with ribbons and dancing on the beachside, hosting their own little party; one that Zacharius would’ve attended if his presence here wasn’t required.

He tore his eyes off of the scene and held a hand out to the doors, which were opened by a couple of maids to reveal the chamber.

“This is where Your Majesties will be staying. There is a hot tub ready if either of you requires it and the sheets have just been dried from the wash,” Zacharius then gestured to a couple of wooden doors just down the corridor. “Your Highnesses will be staying in conjoined rooms that hold separate bathrooms for your comfort,” Zacharius then straightened his posture and looked between the royals.

“Now, any takers for the fun part?” His golden eyes glistened with intrigue behind his mask as he hoped for at least one of them to take his offer.

Acilia | 23 | Female | Knight | Empire of Edyss

Mentions: Ka and Basil (ind.)

She was expecting a more peaceful time after mentally scaring a man, but instead, karma greeted her with a knife to her throat. What are the odds? Life is funny. Is it not? Acilia's back against the hall with a dagger holding her throat hostage, but she wasn't afraid. Amused is what to describe her mood currently. What's the reason for said amusement? Well, it's not every day you'll see a shorter man pinning down a tall woman. Looking down at him, she resisted the urge to pat him on the head. She wanted to call him a good boy for accomplishing such a task. Perhaps she might, right after they get done talking. That's if one of them won't have a slit throat-if that does happen, then the conversation would be pointless. No hint of panic in her eyes. Just bewilderment.

Her brows rise behind her horned mask, a hum in her throat as she listens to what he said, "Well, hello. What's a lady like you doing all alone in a place like this?" His words made a chuckle leave the woman. She's holding back laughter-not wanting to give away their location. Acilia looks around the place before her eyes set on the man. "I was taking a simple stroll to find a man who would pin me up against a wall with a blade to my throat." Sarcasm laid heavy on her words, a smug smile forming on her face. Her eyes filled with lustful intent. "I gotta say, you do fit the requirement, good sir. Although, I would've preferred it if you were taking me out on a few dates."

She sighs, shaking her head. "At last, you were so quick to do inappropriate actions with me. Sadly, I'm afraid things won't work between us because of it." Shaking her head and crossed her arms. She did not move to grab her sword, which was odd. "Maybe you could find another lady to accompany you, yes?"

Nothing wrong with a bit of teasing. Life is short. Have fun with it.

It was odd how the man snuck up on her, and she didn't notice his presence. Hmm, she let her guard down way too much. The biggest mistake you could ever possibly make. Did that mouse's squeal summon the guard dog? The idiot was too loud in her books-she should've removed his tongue while she had the chance. His mouth would've filled with blood-he wouldn't be able to tell who did it. She can't just put all the blame on that man. The fault was hers too. She didn't bother to look around thoroughly while having that fascinating tea party with Basil-it was more of a party than a tea one. Back to the situation, Acilia's eyes locked hard on the man holding her still. She leans forward, allowing the blade to cut the surface of her throat. She didn't flinch at the brief bit of pain. Instead, her focus was on the masked stranger. The pain didn't interest her, but the man, most certainly, does. Should she give him an honest answer?

No, that's too soon-she wants the fun to last.

How could anyone find your life being threatened fun? Acilia does, treating this like a twisted game. The thought of death never scared her, even as a child. It carried on to adulthood. Here she was: mocking the man that could kill her with a single swish of his hand. Slowly, her hand hidden behind her cape appears and proceeds to stroke the man's arm. Her bandaged fingers trace every inch of his hand. Slowly, her hands make their way down his elbow. She gave it a quick squeeze. Acilia could feel some tension forming, but it wasn't one out of goodness. Oh heavens, it sure wasn't. If she keeps playing this man, she could end up dead. However, the more he stalls, his life could be at risk.

It's a battle between a lion and a wolf. One of them has to make the first move eventually. She's hungry. Although, food isn't something she's craving. Not. Her bandaged fingers move up his hand, going over to his weapon and tracing the cold blade. Gracefully her fingers danced along with it. As for her other hand, it moves to coil around his waist. Pulling him tighter against her body, "I don't want anyone to see us just yet. Not while I'm having so much fun with you. You're way more entertaining than the other man." Venom in her words as her compliment came out forced. She wasn't used to giving such words from her corrupted mouth. Her words were always filled with lies and rage-filled with disappointment towards anyone and anything. She brings her face to her neck, inhaling his scent. She'll remember him by smell. That's all she needs to recall this beautiful encounter between them. "A loyal wolf to your kingdom, yes?" Pity laced her face. The disappointment was growing strong on the inside. "Such a shame, and here I thought we would have some fun without restraint. Without having invisible cuffs on our wrists and ankles."

Her heart was racing for whatever reason. Being the stubborn woman she is, she ignored it. His pale, cold skin. Colder than a winter night. Was it his cold personality that made his body so? Hmm, she wonders. "You're cold, wolfy?" Without a returned answer, both arms wrapped around his lower back, but her squeeze wasn't out of comfort. "If so, I wouldn't mind wrapping my arms around you."

Has anyone been hugged to death before?

What should she say to linger on this encounter? She held her breath as someone was walking nearby. Her heartbeat was getting louder-pounding in her ears and silencing any other noise. She waited. And waited. Her lungs beg for release.

No, she doesn't want it to end. Not now.

Seconds felt like hours. Hours felt like days. While days. . .felt like weeks.

If that damn bastard doesn't hurry up with their stupid walk she'll throw a fit. Her arms squeezed tighter on the man's back. She's displeased and extremely so. Her eyes were seething with burning fury-of burning murderous intent. The lioness was pissed, and rightfully so. That bastard of a person is ruining a moment between them-screwing something ever so special to her. Acilia's eyes turn down to look at the fully-masked man standing there. A smile, a fake one, formed on her face. Giving him the fakest of apologies-she wasn't sorry for him. She was more sorry for herself. Smiling to make herself selfishly feel better.

Finally, she hears it. The person's footsteps were fading away into the distance. She released her held air. Her sides were heaving as it regained back its breathing pattern. The anticipation of Acilia has never ceased. It only increased immensely. She didn't realize she could feel his breathing tickling her neck-sending the hairs on it to stand. Guess she shrugged it off for something else. Something completely different. "I realized we've both been completely rude to each other." Her voice was low, whispery.

It seems like a good time to tell each other's names.

"My name is, Acilia Lucius. A former civilian of the Kagha Kingdom. I serve as a knight for the Edyss Empire." Her eyes' attention shift to the man she's holding onto every so dearly. She could tell that he was lonely. She saw the distant look in his eyes before he got this close. He reeks of desperation. He craves of being wanted. "Tell me this, wolfy. Is this the kind of attention you desire?" Her hands moved to his waist, prying him off of her. It was somewhat a difficult task to do, but she managed. "How about you put your little butter knife down. I can give you the recognition you seek, hmm?"

Being nice made her feel sick to her stomach. It disgusted her. Everything she's doing right now is making her sick. Being affectionate is disturbing-let alone giving it to a stranger. The more they're together like this is making her want to break someone's neck. She wants to break his neck so he won't repeat those ill words back to her. Never in her life does she ever want to hear those words ever again. Let alone being reminded of what she said. Leave no witness behind-she doesn't desire to remember anything from the past.

This game has lasted long enough. It's time to end it.

"Sadly, this game has grown tiresome. So it's best if I were to tell my side. Acilia crosses her arms and gives a slight tilt of her head. "I came here in search of the gardens. I got lost while exploring around this maze, and one of your servants started to follow me." She shakes her head, a chuckle escaping her once more, "That bastard of the servant should mind his business. It's a shame no one figured out that it's a bad idea to stalk a current soldier?" Her eyes gleam with vile ideas. Even her smile displays it. She moves her hand to the hilt of her sword, fingers drumming against the cool, steel surface. "Never know if my little flashes of war instincts could end up deadly. A head rolling on the ground. An arm separated. Blind with a single swipe." Her eyes darken, getting lost in her train of thought. "I'm sure you understand, wolfy. You're a soldier too. I'm not wrong, am I?" She kept her distance, her stance tensing up. Everything about her was shifting-changing to be something completely different. "Don't tell me you never had dark thoughts swarming in your head." Her eyes start lacking in life as she grew serious. Her playful and flirty demeanor was gone.

Acilia sees this man as a threat. A challenger for her dominant position. A position she'll fight to the death for. She won't back down. That's completely cowardice. That's stupid. That's what she would never desire. However, this meeting with him has dragged on way too much. She has to be the one to put an end to it. Acilia is not going to label this as defeat. This whole event is a battle of superiority. Their weapons are their presence-on who can make the other cower without spilling blood. Putting two dominant people together has never been a good idea. They'll try to overpower and possibly destroy each other. She sees that. He sees that. "I guess we're done here, wolfy. You may return to your doghouse. I will cause no further trouble here. As long as you keep your people in line, that is."

The awkwardness between them is impenetrable. Acilia's blood was boiling, her heart never decreased in its rapid beating, and her eyes twitched in utter resentment. So many emotions were crushing her. It makes this woman confused about everything. About him. She doesn't know if those emotions were good or bad. She doesn't know anything about expressing herself. It was driving her insane. She hates but also desires him. This is one of the reasons why she avoids people as much as possible. God, it was driving her mental state further deep in Hell. Something deep in her mind is curious: does he feel the same thing she's feeling? She can't be the only insane asshole feeling it right now. She can't. Acilia knows they have to separate unless it'll escalate into something she doesn't crave. However, she was extremely stubborn and refused to be the first one to leave. She won't be the one who submits. He has to.

It's a waiting game that she has no patience for. A waiting game where she has no reason to complete it. All those battles she's in, she was never this anxious. But this, this was a whole different story. It's a different kind of battle. It's a battlefield she has never experienced before. "Are we done here?" Acilia's words were sour as they were forced out of her mouth. All those harsh words, but they were starting to strain in venom.

She's not going to be the one whose back is turned-not again.

Edrys Kolsvalk

22 Years || Female || Knight || Orin || Mentions: Kazimir, Mirian, Mircea, Sori, Mirian, Zak, Randolph, Queen { ind. }

Oh how stupid that was.

Edrys could feel the tension in the air, the staring eyes, she could almost hear the disappointed thoughts of those around her, and she winced silently. Orin needed this.. they needed this alliance with Kagha. Whether or not Kagha was worth it.. they needed to try. The Empire was restless, and regardless of their dormant state, they could strike at any time, and everyone knew they'd strike while Orin was at its lowest. Just being here, was a disadvantage for the Orin Kingdom. The royal family was no longer within its own borders, and the risk of death and corruption was higher than it was ever before, and it worried Edrys to her core. As much as she despised the thought of letting her Royals be associated with these people, she had to deal with it. It was her duty to obey and protect them, whether she likes it or not.

The Knight was silent, her eyes fading away from the Prince's structure, clearing her throat silently. Underneath her cloak, she kept her hands hidden from sight, and kept her fingers against her thigh, gliding her fingers over the hilt of her weapon. It was under layers of fabric, but if needed, she'd rip it out from all those layers, ignoring the fact she would most likely cut herself. Then again, in a situation like this, with no body armor or other weapons, she couldn't afford to slice her own skin to her own benefit. Now, that would be idiotic.

The flash of the princess' eyes were all too loud for Edrys to hear, and she couldn't help but slowly die inside. Would they send her back to Orin? Say she wasn't fit enough to protect them, or even help them become allies with the people of Kagha? God damn it.. how stupid could she be- just because Edrys doesn't regret that decision doesn't mean she doesn't feel stupid. Clenching her teeth, the Knight looked at the ground beside the Prince, knowing exactly who was looking at her.

It was Princess Sori.

However, out of the corner of her eye, another set of eyes were fixated upon the woman, the other Knight.. the Princes personal Knight. His eyes were narrowed, and one could almost see a dark shadow surrounding the man in a cold, unsettling fashion. It was obvious he wasn't impressed with Edrys. Well, right back at him. She wasn't impressed with him either. Clenching her jaw, the woman began to breathe quietly, ready to look back to the Princesses' but was stopped. The heavy footsteps behind her, the rythem, the strides, it was no one but the King. King Randolph.

"There are their Majesties, King and Queen of Orin."

Princess Sori had spoken, standing between Edrys and the Prince, and the Knight's eyes glanced farther to the ground, her head keeping in place.

"We need these people on our side, Dame Kolsvalk."

Nodding slowly, the Knight understood, replying with a simple nod. She kept her lips sealed, not daring to speak. However, she didn't expect any less from the Princess. Princess Sori always had that nice aura, a friendly face, no matter whether she had sharp or soft curves. The princess always had a sense of kindness, it was much appreciated, yet sometimes, Edrys wished she wasn't always so kind. Kindness is a.. oh, kindness. Kindness was a special weapon, a dangerous weapon. It could be used in so.. so many vile ways, so many beautiful ways. Those who wield such a weapon could hold so much power. Many underestimate it as a weakness, and sometimes, those who use it are indeed weak. But others who know how to use it wisely, and not foolishly, are not to be underestimated.

“Dame.”

Straighting her posture, the woman took her hand away from the hilt of her weapon, crossing her hands over one another infront of herself.

“Have your squire get a servant to attend Her Majesty. Please take her to where she will be staying.”

Glancing to the side where Kazimir's shadow could be seen, she nodded faintly, and opened her mouth to speak softly, yet stopped herself.

“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.”

"Yes, your Majesty."

Turning herself around, she looked to Kazimir and motioned towards the carriages from where the King had come from, and began walking towards the moving boxes, stopping besides her steed just as a Servant gently grabbed his reins. The woman stroked her stallions face, kissing him on his nose, looking up into his eyes. "Behave, alright? I promise, they will feed you the finest oats in return," Edrys smiled, kissing his nose one more time, before staring at the servant. "Give him the best of care, and if I see even a hair misplaced, a silver blade will be the last thing you see," she gritted her teeth, watching as the servant shivered before taking Rajick away.

She looked to Kazimir, "Follow." As she walked forward, she could soon to the silhouette of the Queen's carriage, the horses waiting infront of it impatiently, as if they were upset that the Royal Escorts were not awaiting them. Edrys quietly shuddered, before stopping in her place, looking to Kazimir.

Taking in a few deep breaths, Edrys looked to Kazimir, sighing. "Grab three of our servants to escort Queen Moriah from the carriage into the castle. Oh~ and one of our Knights. I don't care who, just any of them. We have plenty. Once you have done that, meet me back here, quickly."

"And.." she lowered her voice, and stared at Kazimir, "Do not trust these people. Even if our Majesties tell us so, nod your head, and stay silent. Don't let their opinions affect yours.. everyone makes mistakes, even our Majesties. I don't question their decisions, but I don't always agree with them. Just, keep your eye out.. alright? Especially around the prince and his personal Knight."

Valentina | 26 | Female | Commonfolk | Kagha Kingdom

Mentions: Open

The wind tussles her hair as she stands on the ship's foremast, her hand clenching onto the ropes tight as possible. Her eyes fixated on the land up ahead, gazing at the harbor of a small town. She could hear what little sound of people rushing below deck. Val gives the upper deck a brief lookover-watching her crewmates prepare the ship to dock. Sadness filled the entirety of the woman. She'll miss those sorry, drunk, crazy bastards in the deepest part of her heart.

They were her other family-a group of people she could quickly get along with and understand her interest. Harsh, as this may seem, but no one understood her desire for freedom as they did. Her crew was her brothers, sisters, uncles, and aunts. Indeed, she lost many of her family while sailing, but it's part of a sailor's life. Although, the lands aren't as safe either. Val faced many dangers out on sea: storms, sea bandits, diseases, sea creatures, starvation, and dehydration. Heh, she survived the time when they got captured and held hostage by a group of sea bandits. Those were good times. Sadly, she never experienced anything like that ever. Until now when she remembered the letter her father sent. The letter was that she had a brother, but that's all the details she received. She had a brother-a biological brother. Guess Val let it slip out of her mind when she was young, and the reason for it was understandable.

She never met her father as she was still in the womb when he left. When she was old enough, her mother gave her a letter. The letter was written to her by her father. She was excited, thinking that he was coming back home. As she kept reading, Val's thrill left-hit with so many emotions.

Anger.

Grief.

Betrayal.

Confusion.

Everything from that changed, and now, she's traveling the seas. The reason was for the sense of wonder, but also in search of her brother or father. It depends on which one she'll tolerate being around first.

She allowed herself to get lured into a trance. Her eyes stared soullessly at the land that was coming closer. "Valentina! Raise the sails!" Her captain's voice interrupted everything. The woman smiles ever so slightly and hides her displeasure of being interrupted. Gracefully, she moves along the masts and starts her work. Effortlessly, she raised the sails with the help of three other people. The only experience she has would soon be gone. Everything she loves would be held onto the side and collect dust. She thought reunions were supposed to be something memorizing. Thrilling, even.

No, she was scared. Anxious. Everything right now is starting to spin, and she felt herself wobble. She wanted to throw up, worse, fall unconscious. She shakes her head. The cold winds hit her awake from her state of suspense. Valentina continued working, but every ounce of excitement was gone. Everything she felt before was gone for the sake of keeping her focused. She has to wait until she's reached shore to figure it out. She feared one thing:

"What if he hates me?"

Her words fell loosely from her lips, and a scorn heavy on her face. Would her brother dislike her? What if he thinks that she abandoned him? Would he blame her for what their father did to them? Well, that's something she has to wait and see. Valentina does hate waiting.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

When they said party, she did not expect a fancy one. Parties need to contain fun. A party needs strong drinks, drunken rambles, gambling, and some drunk guy in the corner singing shanties. She didn't realize that this party involved dressing fancy and waltzing. She doesn't know how to waltz! Great. She'll be the laughing stock on the dancefloor. She rides her horse in the direction of the castle. Keeping an eye out for valuables she may, ahem, borrow. Yes, she steals, but it's for a good cause.

Her cause. That is.

She's sure they won't miss a couple of vases or jewelry. Her mare was unimpressed with this city and showed it in a very positive manner. Feania stops in her tracks and tries to turn around, "Oh no, you don't, Faenia! We have to go, well, I have to go. You're a horse. You can't enter the party anyway." She scoffs, pulling the reins in the right direction. "I envy you. You don't understand how much I hate fancy parties. I would rather sit in a stall and munch on hay than socialize with nobles." She hissed, the horse's ears swivel around. The horse was eager after hearing Val's geninue complaint. "Food motivated. Understandable."

Putting her beloved, food-driven horse in the stalls, Val walks over to the castle doors. Eyeing the laughing nobles with distain, "Pigs. The lot of ya," She whispered only to herself, not wanting to punch a snobby nobleperson in the face yet. She has a feeling her fists would be used for later.