𝔇ᴜᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ 𝔒ʙsᴇssɪᴏɴ ; 義務 執着「 ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴ x ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ 」

[Chevalier]

"Within the Aurelian Empire... only the strongest survive."
​

For all of its grandeur, the Empire proved to be an inhospitable place, a kingdom whose malevolent society was obfuscated underneath golden archways and crimson tapestries. For within the Aurelian Empire, only a single law binds all of its people, that only the strongest... the most cunning... and the most capable... survive. Unlike other kingdoms, even the nobility are not made an exception from this rule and those nobles that do not learn quickly find their power, and lives, to be shorter than originally anticipated. To other nations, the Empire is often described as brutish, uncouth... evil, yet there are none that do not respect the Empire's success. Their territory and influence span further than any other, their armies better trained and equipped than their foes and kept together with terrifying discipline. After all, it is a simple truth that a soldier will no longer fear death when they fear their commanders far more. Those Kings and Queens that have not yet fallen into the Empire's sphere recognize that the Empire is their greatest threat, as their lust for power and glory is almost limitless.

The throne room was vibrant and lively, the dense crowds of budding nobles intermingling with one another as the Emperor's servants attended to their every whims. They gathered, dined and danced, but underneath the gentle hymn of violins and lyres, their lips spread lies and gossip like little snakes passing venom from ear to ear. But the faux festivities came to a pause as two silhouettes emerged in the archway. The first was a familiar face, a tall man clad in the dark, Imperial uniform. His gemstones matched the raven hue of his darkened locks and his tapered uniform accentuated his stubbornly masculine build. He was none other than Prince Tristan of House Elysia, Second in Line to the Imperial Throne, a man well-respected by the Legions and the other nobility. He had already led the Empire's armies across many battlefields, often finding success despite being thrust into hopeless situations. It was because of his cunning and his fondness for fighting at night, a formerly unusual strategy, that the Empire's rivals would dub him as the "Panther"

"Your Royal Highness, Emperor of Thirteen Kingdoms and Lord of Civilization, may I present to you Prince Tristan of the Royal House Elysia, second in line to the Aurelian Empire."​

The live music and gossip fell silent as the Prince strode forward, followed by his newly appointed female bodyguard. "Hello, my son." The Emperor spoke, he was an older man, still tall and muscular, though his once colored hair had fallen to a silvery white. He paused, waiting for the two figures to stop at the base of the steps that led to the throne. Both the Prince and his knight knelt, bending their knees and lowering their heads as was the courtly custom. "Rise. I have a new task for you." He watched as the pair straightened themselves once again, "There is a castle on the fringe of the Everglades. Unfortunately, the former Commander had allowed the battlements to fall into disarray. The garrison was attacked and slaughtered by a tribe of orcs, who have now taken residence in the fort." The Emperor explained, his voice was deep and brooding, the sort of voice that needn't be raised to instill fear in those that listened, "Take two hundred men and kill them all. These orcs have raided our lands long enough."

"If I may, why do you not send a Captain to take care of this?" The Prince retorted, defiant eyes glaring up at his father, "Have I not proved myself more capable than a vermin exterminator?"

"We have. Another party was sent a week ago, but we haven't heard from them since. We believe that they were eliminated as well. So now, I've chosen to send someone I know will get the job done." The Emperor paused, returning the Prince's defiant gaze with one of his own, "Are you up to the task?"

As if he had a choice.

"Yes, father."
​

It wasn't long until the pair had spun about, leaving the room back to the gossiping vultures that claimed it. As the Prince and his newly appointed bodyguard left, a single voice hummed into the Emperor's ear.

"Are you sure that it's smart to allow a foreign spy within our midst?"

"Perhaps. I want to see how long it takes for the Prince to discover her true intentions."

____

​

Upon the border of the Everglades lay an abandoned spire, nestled upon an ominous cliffside and reaching towards the sky. Even from afar, its weathered battlements were in a state of obvious disrepair, great sections of the walls left crumbling or absent entirely. Even the pathway that would lead up the titanic slopes were lost to the elements, giving no clear road to traverse to reach the front gates. But despite its poor state, the Prince recognized the threat that its mountaintop position posed almost immediately. Perhaps, a more inexperienced commander would severely underestimate just how dangerous the slopes were, how the weathered towers still wielded a great threat to even a larger force. Two hundred men would not be enough for such a task.

"Set up the tents. We camp here until daybreak."

"You heard the Prince! Tents go up! I want it done in fifteen minutes!"​

If there was something to be said about Imperial discipline, then the speed at which they could construct camps and defenses were certainly impressive. Within only fifteen minutes, the two hundred men had set up an elaborate network of tents, while digging out trenches around the perimeter. Within another fifteen minutes, a wooden fence would enclose their position, in case the enemy decided to come forth from the castle and attack them. At the center of the camp was the crimson tent, taller and larger than the rest, it would serve as the Prince's personal quarters for the night. Once the tent was prepared, the Prince turned towards his knight, "I need to speak with you, alone."

As the soldiers continued to work, the pair disappeared into the royal tent, the interior was decorated with a fine bed and ample furniture, mainly a table and chairs and a set of candles illuminated the dark, makeshift room. Once the pair were embraced by the coziness of the Prince's temporary dwelling, he fixed his dark gaze upon her, "I've been hearing quite a few rumors about you." He hovered closer towards her, until his towering size was made blaringly more apparent to her. He moved even closer still, so that his new bodyguard would be forced to take steps backward to avoid colliding against his chest. Eventually, she would find herself backed against the edge of a table, with nowhere to go but to lean helplessly against it. "Many of these rumors are rather... unpleasant." He cooed, a masculine hand jutting forward and underneath her alluring portrait. His strong digits claimed the underside of her chin, tilting her pretty face upwards to look up at his own. The Prince knew that he was handsome, with an unerringly stubborn jawline that plunged upwards into high, attractive cheekbones. He gazed down upon the knight with curious eyes, as if attempting to reach into her soul and pluck the truth out from within her.

"I have little spies that have told me that they've never heard of you before. These are birds that have memorized every coat of arms in the realm, yet yours seems to elude them." His lips gravitated closer, until they inched dangerously close to the knight's own. She would be able to feel his hot breath singe the front of her face, his dark gemstones gazing overwhelmingly into her own like vibrant kaleidoscopes peering into the truth. "Remind me again, little knight, where it is that you came from." The hand that was underneath her chin fell slowly downwards, until his powerful appendages could wrap themselves around the base of her throat. They squeezed lightly, just enough so that she would be able to feel the intensity of his fingers pressing against her windpipe, but not enough to completely asphyxiate her.

"To what master does this little mockingbird sing to?"​

 

[Passion]

To the far east of the Aurelian Empire, the Luron Kingdom stretched out along the ocean-side. The expansive but narrow kingdom was both peaceful and successful under the fair rule of King Jarin and Queen Emeline. The kingdom was content with their size and resources, and so their mission was rather simple; sustainability. They had achieved such a goal for many years by keeping to themselves and offering acts of kindness to the neighboring kingdoms and empires. At times, they would have to show their own military strength, but most of the time a show of a wall of warriors was enough to change the mind of anyone who wished to invade them. However, there had been a growing concern. The rate of growth and brutal stories of the Aurelian Empire reached inside of Luron’s walls. Even before that, the King’s roundtable had a group of informers that presented the very real looming threat of the aggressive empire. Luron was far from the heart of the empire, but at this rate, it wouldn’t be for long. The safest way that the Aurelian Empire could be dealt with and predicted was from the inside; they needed to find a way to infiltrate the royal family itself. The time of merely watching the pattern of Aurelian pawns was over. After receiving intel that the Royal House had accepted a highly skilled knight from the Kingdom of Vrey, who chose to bow to the Aurelian Empire after threatened. Luron finally had their chance to act.

There was a man named Renard, who was the King’s favored advisor and active spy, although the public of Luron only thought of him as a simple diplomat for foreign trade. Little did the citizens know, the man was quite a hero. The knowledge he brought the King saved the kingdom from wars and malicious intent due to his and his team's diligent efforts. He also trained other informers and assassins and helped create what they called, The Order of Whispers. The Order of Whispers worked and trained under strict code, and was the cruelest division the Luron Kingdom had to offer.

Sadly, during one of Renard's missions, he suffered a fall that left him with permanent damage to his right leg. He continued teaching, but he was no longer active outside of Luron's walls. Those who knew of The Order Whispers were disheartened by their top agent’s retirement, but not all hope was lost. He had a daughter, one he had decided the fate of since before she was born. As soon as she was able to walk, the girl was trained in hopes of one day surpassing her father.

Some of the Whispers looked down upon the girl for being female. Others simply didn’t think she could measure up, as if Renard was a once in a lifetime spy, but she did not disappoint. She had her father’s natural talents, and she lived and breathed to fill her father’s shoes. Every weapon she picked up, she made sure to train to an advanced level. She did endless roleplays to perfect personalities and roles from everything to an innocent little girl, a woman of the night, to a fierce warrior who only lived to shed blood and wield a sword.

The Whispers and her father expected much from her, so there was little mercy shown to the girl. Left on frozen mountainsides at night, tortured until she nearly lost her mind more times than she could count, and stripped of any part of her that made her an individual, she had no other purpose in her life other than to serve her King and the Order. It all had become so ingrained in her, that often she couldn't even remember her birth name or even silly things like her favorite color and food. She was without an identity other than the ones that were set up for her, and it didn’t bother her since she knew no other way of life. The people of the Kingdom did not know even know of her existence, and her father and the other Whispers simply called her Blondie.

----​

A few of the Whispers had visited Vrey to find out who the Aurelian Empire had hired, and to their surprise, it was a woman with dirty blonde hair and appeared to be in her early twenties. It was as if the gods had spoken! They knew instantly that Blondie could fill the role. The women looked different side by side, but they fit each other's basic description. The Whispers researched the woman, who was named Theia, and her family and brought back the information to the Order. They had found out that Theia was chosen since she was highly praised by her superiors for her skills and dedication; she was one of the best that Vrey had to offer. The Order of Whispers didn’t have too much time to prepare, but Blondie was ready to mold into the part, and she made sure to absorb every drop of information that she received.

It was twilight when the young knight from the Kingdom of Vrey traveled through the Dimroot Forest on her way to the Aurelian Empire. She was about halfway through the woods when she was ambushed by a small group of the Whispers. With daggers and short swords in hand, the poor woman stood no chance despite her rumored skills. Her pain was short, and with a single fatal slice across her throat, she fell off her horse and to the grass below. As her deceased body lay crumpled on the ground, crimson oozing from her neck that stained her yellow locks, who she was as a person did not die that day. Instead, she was reborn.

That fateful day, Blondie became Theia in every way possible; in mind, heart, and soul. The new Theia changed into the fallen knight's armor, tamed her steed, and left behind the Whispers to clean up their slaying to head straight to the heart of the Aurelian Empire.

----​

So far, so good. No one questioned her since the day she arrived, and it was a smooth process getting in. Luckily, she came in as a foreigner, and so no one really looked twice if she got herself lost every now and again, or if there were a few cultural cues that went over her head. She projected the same amount of respect and loyalty as any knight or soldier to those above her and her peers and kept quiet whenever she could. Rumor had it, the real Theia wasn’t much of a social butterfly anyway. Then, with her natural, gentle appearance, and the warm smile she painted on her lips during times of repose, it was hard to find her suspicious. To most, if they did, they would probably feel too guilty to accuse the sweet girl who gave up serving her homeland to serve another nation as some kind of traitor, one that was approved of to guard the beloved prince himself, but someone who was wise would know to not judge a book by its cover.

After speaking with the King with the prince and receiving their new mission, Theia was without any issues. Her bias against the empire’s ways was meaningless. If she needed to kill the innocent to fill her part, or if she needed to help expand the empire, so be it. Her morals were hardly shaped as an individual as is, although, living in Luron taught her against mindless killing and violence, especially when content and not in danger. What she needed to learn as if they planned to move to the East, and to get a proper estimate of the empire’s strength or any tricks that they had up their sleeve. Anything of value would be noted, but she would continue to play her part however the royal family deemed fit.

----
​

As they ventured out, Theia had changed into her heavy armor in preparation for battle. As a true woman of the blade, she decided to carry a longsword and a pair of daggers. Given the difficulties that came with travel, she decided to leave back any lance or large greatsword. It worked out, since the lighter the weapon was, the more skilled she was at wielding, but that was her secret alone. An assassin playing the role of a knight was a difficult one.

As the prince’s personal knight, she stood beside him as the tents popped up all around them. She stood in a silent watch, but with her guard always up in order to protect the one she served. She knew an attack was unlikely for the time being, but she was his bodyguard, and she took her role seriously. She hadn’t talked to the prince much beyond simple statements, and that seemed to be more than enough between them. Hearing his voice, her golden eyes looked up at his face. “Of course, Your Highness,” she said with a nod of her head. Without question or hesitation, she followed the lead of her new prince inside his tent.

Her posture remained straight, and her gaze did not break from his face as he spoke of rumors as he neared her. Theia did not show any concern, not only because she was staying true to her cover, but she knew her slip into her role of Theia was clean. Forced to take a step back, her eyes remained on his face. It was the first time he showed aggression towards her, and she wondered why now? Why while they were in the middle of the mission? A knight nor the woman she was trained to be would not easily show fear, and so Theia didn’t. If he really thought something was off about her and was sure of it, she would be dead already.

Knowing better than to stand up to the prince, she was directed back until a table behind her halted her. Her face was taken by his hand, and she looked up at him with a fierce loyalty in her eyes as expected from any honorable knight. Her feminine features were gentle and soft, which also gave her an innocent and benevolent air to her. “Unpleasant, my Prince? That is disheartening to hear. I’ve worked very hard in Vrey to get where I am today.” She couldn’t yet figure out what card he was trying to play. Maybe there was concern that someone from Vrey would be unhappy with the fact they were working for the Empire that forced them to take a knee? However, from what she heard from the reports, most of Vrey was fine being under a new rule since they were already on the decline.

Based on how he was leaning in paired with how intensity he looked into her eyes, she knew what he was doing. She had done it herself many times. There was a truth to be found when you really looked at someone. However, beyond the identity she stole, she was an empty slate. There was nothing to see other than ‘Theia’.

As his breath tickled her face, she picked up on his natural scent. This was the first time she had been this close to him... the first time he touched her. She could train to be empty, she could train to be anyone under the moon, but she couldn’t train away instinctive attraction, especially when it was something she never really had to deal with. One who had given their life to The Order of Whispers had no plans of courting nor knew how to tap into personal desires. She did not allow her fizzling attraction stick. All she needed to do was remind herself that this man was part of the family who would want to rule over every kingdom if they could. A family who would have no issue leaving her Kingdom as piles of rubble and ash. He and his family were... cold, selfish, evil, cruel, and… disgusting.

With his hand finding her slender neck, her mind buzzed with knowledge from her lifelong training: If I draw my blades as quickly as I can, I may be able to land a fatal blow before he snaps my neck. No, I don’t have enough room for a clean draw with this table behind me. I could headbutt him, but there is a risk of that knocking me out as well or him not falling. If I do anything, he would need to fall immediately. One shout of distress from the prince, I could be ambushed. Then, her combative thoughts abruptly stopped. Killing the prince could be fruitful, but she didn’t yet gather enough information and there was still his father who would continue to lead with an iron fist. It would be better off for her Kingdom if she was killed compared to being found out. If it was known that Luron managed to get this close to the royal family, they may go out of their way to attack her native lands. She instead decided to trust in her training in deception instead of combat.

Her posture remained intact, and she did not even raise a hand towards his arm. If she was loyal, then she should have nothing to fear, right? She did have the intent of helping him on his mission, so spotting a true motive behind her willingness would be difficult. “I was born in Mirfield in Vrey, it is a small town that no one really cares for to the point it is often not found on many maps." It was true, it was a small town.

"If you looked into me, I must agree, it was probably difficult. My family traveled a lot throughout Vrey. I’ve lived in 4…” She paused to consider, but her pause was an act. She knew the truth already, but she knew sounding too confident could also hurt her. “No, I mean 5 different small towns until I settled in the capital where I was trained. I took my duty and oath very seriously, so I never made too many friends and the rest of my family moved back to Mirfield after realizing capital life wasn’t for them.” She was confident in her words, as they were true to Theia’s story.

“My loyalty is to you, and only you, Your Highness. It breaks my heart that you question it. I take my oath as a knight seriously. I'm so happy that I did since it allowed me to find a path where I get to serve and help protect one of the strongest men that these lands have ever seen. I’m honored to serve you and your will, my Prince.” Finally, her stern facial expression shifted into a frown, all while her golden eyes filled with hurt. She channeled some of her actual emotions and twisted them; she honestly didn’t want to let him down. If she did, her mission to gather information would fail. - He was grasping at true fluidity.

 

[Chevalier]

“I was born in Mirfield in Vrey, it is a small town that no one really cares for to the point it is often not found on many maps..."
​

The Prince fell silent, his powerful gaze fixated on the trapped Knight as she recounted her upbringing from the Kingdom of Vrey. It seemed that the Knight knew her lands well, or at the very least, had prepared herself for a proper response to the Prince's accusations. But that was precisely the problem, the fact that she so quickly moved to explain her story, delving into the details of her hometown and familial origins. Any other knight would have immediately scoffed at the idea of being accused, even heavily offended by having their chivalric honor placed into question. Yet, there were no demands to find those responsible for such rumors or accusations. Instead, her words were gentle, like a succubus tenderly coercing their victim to bed.

"Oh? Perhaps you can tell me why my father was so adamant on having you tied to me? Knights from other kingdoms usually don't instantly become Royal Guards, I'm sure you can imagine." He began, his towering stature still pressing dangerously close to her. "I just find it strange that a Knight with no reputation has ended up in my service... and from another kingdom, no less." Perhaps the clever Knight would be able to piece together the situation now. The Prince was never questioning whether she was who she said she was, but rather, where her true loyalties lie. It was no secret that the Empire was filled with schemers and plotters, often nobles using any method necessary to infiltrate each other's trust and inner circles.

"My loyalty is to you, and only you, Your Highness. "​

"I suppose we will see about that." His fingers hovered slowly upwards, navigating from her chin and towards her plush lips. Softly, his thumb began to caress her lower lip, gently prodding it underneath his calloused digit. It rolled across her lips as she finished speaking, before cautiously delving between her lips to explore the inside of her mouth. "Whether you work for my father, my brother, or someone else entirely, just know that I will eventually find the truth." As he spoke, his voice fell noticeably deeper and despite his gentle, soft-spoken tone, there possessed a sinister darkness that lurked behind his every word. "...and if the truth turns out to be different from what honey dribbles between these sweet lips..." His finger rolled over her teeth before pressing further into her mouth, finding the back of her tongue before pinning it down against the base of her mouth. He leaned even closer still, his strong leg forcing its way between hers as his hungry lips moved past her face so that the hunter could growl the remainder of his bittersweet threat into his prey's ear.

"I will fucking break you."​

Before Tristan could say anything more, the sound of boots and the rustling of the tent entrance spurred the Prince's attentions away. "My Lord. The camp is prepared and the soldiers are ready for battle. But there was something we needed to discuss with you." The Prince's lips retreated backwards, his hungry gaze still locked upon the Knight's portrait for several moments before he pulled himself away from her completely. The officers standing at the entrance were already clad in heavy plate armor, their tabards carrying the crimson colors of House Elysia. "The scouts you sent out ahead have already returned." The men moved towards the table that Theia and the Prince stood by, one of the officers unraveling a scroll of parchment which showed a map of the surrounding area. "The cliffsides are far too steep for a general assault. Even with the walls in such a deplorable state, we don't have enough men. We believe this is why the last assault was a failure."

"More men aren't an option. So what? We besiege them?" The Prince bit at his lower lip, "No, I don't want to be stuck here for three months. We don't have the supplies either."

"We won't need to siege them. We've found a back entrance. There used to be a sewage tunnel that led into a river, which dried up a long time ago. We don't think the orcs know about it yet." Another officer explained, which quickly dictated where the conversation was going.

"I see. We could send a small team in, open the gates, then have the rest of the troops pour in. It would have to be at night, when the Orcs aren't mostly asleep. Do we have any idea of their numbers?"

"We estimate around a hundred, based on how many they have on watch and the frequency of their guard rotations. They change their guards out every three hours and we've marked the positions on the map. When they switch out, there's often a five minute period where nobody is on duty. This would be the best time to sneak in."

"Alright. Fetch me Captain Vance and tell him to bring a dozen of his best men. I'll be leading the group."

"My Lord, I don't think that it's appropriate for you to-"

"I can handle myself just fine. Besides, I want to see how capable my new bodyguard is." The Prince turned towards Theia, his lips curling upwards into a mischievous smirk. Perhaps the Knight would assume that a dangerous mission would be the perfect way for the Prince to lose his new spy, but it wasn't exactly an offer she would find herself able to refuse. After all, she was his bodyguard now... how would she be able to let her Prince charge into the lion's den on his own? "Go tell everyone the plan. That we'll open the gates and light the torches to signal the attack.."

"Yes, my Lord!"
​

As the commanders departed, Tristan glanced over towards his Knight. "I'll need to get into my own armor. If you could give me a hand..." He pointed towards the rack of plate armor that stood beside his bed, not dissimilar to the armor that the other men had been wearing. It was ebony in hue, with streaks of crimson and gold that accented the borders of the armor. The image of the Imperial Knight was well-known across all kingdoms, infamous for their aggressive expansionism and forcing once proud nations to kneel like slaves.

As he waited for the Knight to bring his equipment to him, Tristan's hands began to undo the buttons upon his tunic, slipping free from his black jacket and the uniformed shirt that lay beneath. His chest was bared as he prepared the shirt that he would don underneath, his well-defined masculine shape presented carelessly to the female knight. Underneath his uniform, he looked broader than before, chiseled muscles gleaming underneath the solemn embrace of candlelight. But she would be able to also see the collection of scars which ran across his chest and back, displays of the Prince's many close stints with death.

"Tell me, Lady Theia, are the Princes of Vrey expected to ride into battle as well?" He asked casually, as if he had already forgotten about the threats he had growled into Theia's ear only moments ago. "I was once sixth in line to the throne... but I'm sure you can imagine that Imperial Princes do not last very long." For the first time, Theia would be able to see the Prince frown, his words peeling away at his usually stoic demeanor and displaying a transient moment of sadness. Death was common in the Empire, even among nobles. It was an inhospitable kingdom, where only the strong survived. Feelings were weakness... and yet, Tristan couldn't help but feel for the siblings and friends he'd lost over the years.

 

[Passion]

She knew it was strange how she received such a title, but there was little information why the King originally requested a knight from another kingdom. “Vrey bowed graciously to your father's rule, so it would make sense that the King would want to recruit some of the best from each land. I worked beside the royal knights in Vrey.” The kingdom of Vrey was a submissive ally of the empire now, and so it would be seen as an honor to work with the royal family. So much so, possibly the king knew that mistakes or betrayal may be less likely. “I promise you that you won’t regret me by your side.” From the position she took on as a royal knight, it was afflictive to hear him doubt her, but she kept her poker face much as any trained knight would do.

Due to her position, and sworn loyalty, she held still and allowed the prince to touch her lips. For a moment, she tensed. Trained she was, but the personal touch from royal blood was enough to get a reaction out of most. The woman listened to him closely while not resisting the way his fingers dipped into her warm mouth. As the tone of his voice alone was enough to get her heart to flutter. Theia then realized she was dealing with a type of man she hadn’t yet dealt with before. It wasn’t just his title, but like her, his fate was decided since birth. She was fated to be a spy expert, and he, a one day king to lead with aggressive power. They both lived and breathed for their purposes. She couldn’t read him like a typical person in the slightest, and she knew he was capable of the unimaginable.

Her golden eyes dilated and her breathing halted when he boldly pinned back her tongue. She kept her hands at her sides as he leaned in further, she was helpless to make any kind of stand against such a man of power. His presence felt heavier on her than his physical form that continued to press her back towards the table. Nevertheless, she remained opened and accepting to the one she swore her loyalty to. Anything the prince said or did, she must go along with.

Based on how his heavy words lingered, she knew a threat was coming, but she dreaded the moment she would hear it. Any kind of threat from royalty was to be taken seriously, and when it came from the Elysia family, it was even more critical. Then, despite her silent, wishing...

He said it. ​

Her demeanor as a stern knight cracked just enough that she closed her eyes as his words seep in. His words would haunt her from this point on. It was as if his voice had just stabbed her right in the gut. Her own reaction confused her, as it wasn't often she was bothered by threats. Usually, she was able to brush things off, but something about his closeness… and such words coming from him, out of all people. He got to her. Luckily, the real Theia that was no more would have more than likely caved some too. It would likely be more concerning to the prince if she didn’t bend; she was only human after all. Either way, she knew her mission just become even more difficult since he was already suspicious of her and now she was tied to a threat that came from royal lips.

Before things progressed further, or she had a chance to speak, an officer came in. Theia opened her eyes once more and tried to read the look on the prince’s face. She saw the eyes of a predator, but for now, her escape from him was granted in the form of duty. She stepped away from the table with a soft flustered, pink painted on her cheeks as she allowed the officers to explain the current situation.

It all sounded like a well thought out plan. Well, as long as no one got lost in the tunnels. As she knew well, sometimes stealth was superior to force. She was silently agreeable until the prince mentioned his involvement. It was enough to make the knight turn her head towards him in wonder. It was no place for a prince, even one who had the spirit of a fighter.

Responding to his smirk with a reassuring nod of her head, Theia didn’t present any fear of failing. She trusted herself in battle much more than when she was intensely cornered by the prince. She didn’t worry about some tunnel in enemy lands, but the words from the prince still resounded in her mind. If he found out... the consequence would be greater than a simple death. The guilt of exposing her own kingdom would be a heavy burden to carry, and one tortured spirit she would become. As of now, she would much rather fail her mission by perishing in the sewer.

Without hesitation, she fetched his armor when directed to. When she turned around, she saw him with less fabric on than before. She heard many stories of royalty, but not many trained like warriors themselves. She could see his kind of strength and power envied by men, and desired by women. Theia herself never dabbled in much personal attraction, but some of her instinctive feminity threatened to spark.

Theia stood behind him to help clasp the armor over his strong chest, before squatting down to move on to his lower half. As she worked on securing his protection, she pondered his question and lingering statement. It wasn’t what she was expecting to hear from him. It sounded almost too thoughtful for the heartless man she thought him to be. She was taught to hate all that the royal family had done, but she gave him credit since every scar that graced his body was an ode to his beliefs and devotion. As a spy, she saw so much weakness in the heart and wills of others... but he was different.

“No, they are not known to take part in battle, Your Highness. Most of the princes in Vrey and other kingdoms I’ve heard of stay in their castles.” Once his armor was in place, she walked in front of him to give it a good look over to make sure all pieces were straight. “But, your people find it admirable and brave that you do. I do as well. I wouldn’t dare speak for you, but you seem like the type of man who would rather be remembered as the prince who didn't shy away from the heart of battle, compared to one who rarely left his castle and was protected like a fragile flower.” She reached up and rubbed the back of her head and gave him a nervous half-smile knowing very well she was his bodyguard. “Of course, I’ll protect you like one even when you don't need it.”

She walked back over to the rack of armor and picked out two helmets, and she offered him one. “Don’t worry, as long as I’m by your side, I’ll make sure you survive all the way to the throne.” But… would she? Taking over the role of Theia had consumed her. So much so, speaking from the position of a loyal knight came naturally. If anything, in that present, she entirely meant it; there was no air of deceit. She had no reason to go against him now, and how much she knew, she might be working undercover until he made it to the throne. Either way, she would protect him to not only keep her cover, but he would do little good for her in the grand scheme of things if he withered.

Already in her armor, she tied back her long hair into a bun and slipped on her helmet. “I am ready when you are to help claim your sure victory, my prince.” She waited by the exit of his tent for his lead. No matter where he went, his loyal guard would follow.

 

[Chevalier]

​

The Prince listened to the Knight's soothing words as his bodyguard fastened his platemail to his body. Though kindness dribbled from her gentle lips, the Prince was slow to completely trust them. Perhaps it was simply due to paranoia that the Prince trusted nobody, after all, the Empire was filled with those that would have loved to see the Prince's fall from grace. There were many that wished to be seated upon the throne, to be called Emperor of Aurelia. Ironically, Tristan was not one of them. "They're smarter than we are, then." Tristan remarked when Theia described the Princes of Vrey. "Only a fool would want to see the horrors of battle, to think there's anything admirable in killing. But that is the Empire: an endless sea of fools and overcompensating, self-proclaimed men." Indeed, it was only weak men and young boys that felt the need to prove themselves in battle. His words were a sharp contrast to how Imperials felt, even how Theia seemed to feel, but he appreciated her calming words regardless, even if they were strung from an intricate web of lies. ​

​

"Come now, there is butchering to be done." With that, the Prince stood, taking the helmet Theia had given him and sliding it over his raven head. It was a dark, bascinet styled helmet, with a visor that could be flipped up and down to protect his face. Moving from the tent, there was already a dozen men armed and waiting for him at the entrance. Captain Vance and the men that he had assembled for battle. Most of them were quite large, even taller and broader than the Prince himself. It was quite clear that these men were well-versed in the tune of battle, having following Tristan across many campaigns and battlefields.​

​

"Oi, Trist." From the side of his vision, the Prince would be able to see an object flying in his direction. Sticking his hand out, he caught his scabbard, which contained his sheathed longsword within. "Fresh from the smith. I figured you didn't want to bring a nice one, considering you always fucking seem to lose yours." The soldiers cackled as their Captain took a shot at the normally level-headed Prince.​

​

"Good one, Captain. Next time you need someone to catch an arrow for you, don't come crying to me." Tristan pulled the sword an inch from its sheath, so that he could inspect the sharpness of the steel before closing it, "And watch your language. Need I remind you that there's a lady here." The soldiers turned towards her. ​

​

"She comin' with?"​

​

"Ask her yourself. Now, let's get moving." With his sword in one hand, the Prince began to move towards the far end of camp.​

​

"Alright, you heard 'em. Get your shi-" The Captain paused, glancing over at Theia for a moment, "Get your stuff together. We're moving out."​

​

Outside of the camp, the Prince and his entourage moved underneath the cover of night, their path illuminated only by the cerulean shimmers of the moon's light. Visibility was obscured to only a few meters ahead, but that was exactly what they wanted, lest a barrage of arrows be loosed from the castle walls overhead. "This way, my Lord." The gruff Captain motioned, beckoning for the party to follow. They circled the base of the mountain, until they could see a trench which marked the beginning of the dried up river that used to pass underneath the castle. "I used to come here during my younger years, before you were born, my Prince. I remember this land brimming with life. Things... certainly changed once your father took power."​

​

"I'm sorry, Vance. I remember you telling me about what happened to your village, not too far from here." It went without saying that the Prince kept a close relationship with the soldiers underneath his command, regardless of their rank or nobility. These were men that offered their lives for him, after all. Tristan knew that loyalty often came at a cost, but it was one that was more than worth it. "If I ever become Emperor, things are going to change again. I'll need men that I can trust." His eyes shot towards Theia, his face visible despite the darkness, "and women." His lips curled into a weak smile, an emotion that was very rare and uncharacteristic of the Prince. It disappeared quickly as his hand rose to the top of his helmet, pulling down his visor to obscure his face. ​

​

"Let's move."​

​

The secret entrance was pulled open, a metal grate which exposed a service ladder. It was a long climb, one that seemed never ending. A mischievous grin formed across the Captain's lips, who immediately glanced over towards the only female in the group. "Ladies first?" He chuckled, pointing towards the female knight's skirt, hinting the fact the men would be able to look up during their ascent. ​

​

The Prince gave his Captain a shove, "She's out of your league, Captain." He tapped his foot, waiting for the men to start climbing up the ladder. There was a slight snicker shared between the group, before the soldiers began to climb one by one up the shaft. "Don't make me tell your wife when we get back."​

​

"Heh. I was just kidding. She's too young for me, anyways." The old man retorted, waiting for the last of the soldiers to disappear before making his way up the shaft. Once the rest of the Prince's troops had begun climbing, the Prince went next,​

​

"Try not to stare too much." He casually tapped Theia's shoulder as he passed her, before grabbing ahold of the ladder and beginning to climb upwards.​

​

The ascent took several minutes, the rusted ladder which led to the top creaking in ways that didn't inspire much confidence in its stability. But they eventually made it to the top, pushing through a dusty trapdoor which poured out into one of the dungeon's rooms. Upon emerging from the floor, the soldiers quickly spread out, drawing their weapons from their sheaths as they scanned the area, waiting for the Prince and his bodyguard to emerge. "We should be in the dungeon, which means we'll have to go up three flights of stairs and through the main hall to get to the courtyard. From the courtyard, we just have to follow the wall until we get to the front gate." Without a word, the group pressed onwards, moving through the dark, narrow corridors before pressing onwards. They followed the Captain's lead, moving carefully and avoiding any wayward torches that signaled the enemy. It wasn't long until they found themselves outside once again, scaling the nearby wall until they could see the gates just ahead.​

​

"Alright, gate's just ahead." The men broke out into a quiet jog, running up to the gate before taking a look at what they were dealing with. "Gods, they have it locked up tight." Vance pulled on the log which kept the gate firmly shut, noticing quickly that it was shackled in place. ​

​

"Can you get it open?" ​

​

"Yeah, but it's going to take me five or ten minutes." The Captain gave another tug on the log, before taking a look at where the shackles led. Maybe, if he could find its weakest point, they would be able to snap it in two. As he inspected the gate, however, a deep, bestial snarl could be heard from beyond. ​

​

"I... I don't think you have five minutes, Vance." The Prince drew out his sword, tossing his leather scabbard to the side. Just a few moments later, large shadows would be visible in the darkness, larger and broader than that of any of the Prince's men. "You three, get on top of the walls and start shooting!" The archers of the group immediately disappeared, running up the wall at the Prince's command, "You two, help Vance break that gate down. Burn it down if you have to! The rest of you are with me!" The Prince barely finished barking out commands when the first beast charged forward. A massive orc, nearly seven feet tall and with grotesquely large muscles. The savage creature swung a crude, large axe, which would have taken Tristan's head if he had not ducked at the right moment. Tristan was a skilled swordsman, dodging into the orc's wide attack to drive his blade deep into the beast's chest. As the monster fell with a loud thud, several more followed after him, some running past him to fight the other soldiers in the group. ​

​

Thick fighting broke out between the Prince's group and the savage, greenskin beasts that surrounded them. Normally, a single human would stand little chance against an orc, but these were some of the most skilled knights that the Empire had to offer, men that had faced monsters far greater than these. They fought bitterly, the clash of steel clattering as the Prince and his men felled beast after beast. But for every monster killed, there was another to take its place. It wasn't long until the dying screams of several soldiers could be heard, signaling their faltering situation. "Vance! How long?!" Tristan shouted from the fighting, stepping to the side as an enemy's arrow flew past his chest. ​

​

"It's no good, it's not budging! Fuck it! We're burning it down! Who cares about this shitty castle anyways?!" A small flame would soon be sparked over the gate, slowly engulfing the wooden entrance as the sounds of battle continued on. "There! It's burning!" Vance kicked the burning doorway, punching a great hole into the crumbling gate. "Alright, let's get out of here! Before we get overrun!" Those that were still standing sprinted out of the gate, some of the soldiers being held upwards by their comrades. ​

​

As everyone fell back, the Prince paused at the gate to take a quick headcount. "That's nine! Who are we missing?"​

"We lost Jax and Noah. I'm not sure where Fenris is." One of the wounded men exclaimed between deep coughs.

"Theia! Where is she?" The Prince bit his lip,

"I saw her with Fenris! They got cut off from the rest of us!" Another soldier answered. Before the Prince could even move, Vance grabbed him by the shoulder,

"You're not going back in there, are you fucking crazy?! We barely got out of there alive!" Vance's attempt to stop the Prince was in vain. Without even a word, Tristan was immediately charging back up the hill and through the gate. "Damn fucking Princes... they never listen! Those of you that can still stand, with me! I'll have your heads if he doesn't make it out of there alive!"

 

[Passion]

Wherever the prince went, his guard would follow. As she did, she remained quiet and to herself. Any comments about her being a woman were bounced off of her. It seemed she was used to such judgments or maybe she was simply that cold. Nonetheless, Theia knew that listening instead of speaking often paid off. Silence also helped her keep her cover. Since she arrived, even though she was polite, Theia hardly spoke to anyone. It wasn't the comments that bothered her, but what she was piecing together about the prince.

In Luron, the Elysia family was all seen in the same light; one step below wrathful demons. However, Tristan spoke against battle and even showed compassion towards the story of his fellow soldier. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad once his father's rule was over, but she was unaware of Tristan's desires away from the throne. Either way, it had the woman thinking. It could be something she reported back to the Order, but would that change anything? No, not as long as the king was alive and they believed his family to be just as bad as the man himself. Theia didn't have a change of heart, it would take much more than that, but it was noted. She knew there were many layers to every person, and she was only scratching the surface of the prince.

After climbing the ladder, Theia looked around at their surroundings to observe. She looked for clues and threats, but even as she did so, she was careful to not lose sight of the prince. With her hand on the hilt of her sword, she ventured further in with the group to find the locked gate. She wanted to take a look at the lock herself, but she knew it was unwise to turn her back when protecting the prince was her highest priority. Hearing how long it would take, Theia bit her lower lip. Sure, five to ten minutes wouldn't be so bad if they weren't alone, but her instincts were telling her otherwise. All her years of training gave her a keen sense of detection. No, it wasn't supernatural in nature, but her gut rarely lied in situations like this.

She wished she wasn't right, but as soon as she heard footsteps, she drew her blade. She gripped her sword tightly as the prince gave out his orders, She glanced over to the side to make sure the prince dodged, but he ended up doing more than just that and countered. It appeared the one she was set to protect could actually stand on his own enough for her to support instead of block, and so, she sprung into action.

She moved ahead, deciding to try to funnel the orcs away from the prince to lessen his work. With her blade, Theia was without hesitation as she gracefully swung her sword to slice at every orcs' necks that crossed her path. Usually by moving quickly and bravely forward straight into them, or countering. She demonstrated her skills elegance and control. Earlier, comments were made about the fact she was in a skirt, but the lighter and less restrictive her clothing was, the more fatal she became as the real woman's strength was in speed.

She did her best to fight like a knight would to keep her cover. Other than the ease of her dodging, her eerie silence, and the fact she only appeared to target the neck, her combat mirrored many of the soldiers around her. However, there was only so much a 'fake' could do. The longsword was not her weapon of choice even though she could manage it, and wearing a helmet disrupted her. The orcs came piling in, and Theia wasn't even offered a second to look back to check on the prince. She knew she had to keep moving, and so she remained up on her feet dwindling down what she could. She was successful in leaving and a trail of bodies, but the army of orcs kept coming.

Eventually, she circled around in dance to see that they managed to get the gate open. She was deep in the sea of the enemy and without many friendly faces on her side of the battlefield. Deciding to ditch the enemy, Theia ran towards the gate with dirt and blood marked on her body and sword. Her damn helmet ended up blocking her peripheral vision, and an orc rammed into the petite woman from the side, which completely knocked her off her feet.

Her back slammed hard against the ground with enough force that it knocked the air out of her and sent her sword flying from her hand. She used her hands to prop herself up into a sitting position as she struggled to catch her breath. In mere seconds, she was surrounded by six orcs that saw her sitting there like easy prey. Theia reached near her waist where one of her daggers was sheathed while knowing she had one of two options. She could try to stand, or she could draw her blade. She didn't have enough time for both, and yet, without the other, it was looking grim for poor Theia. It was futile.

Half of them raised their axes up to ready their attack while others watched in sadist anticipation. She could not parry such a heavy weapon with her blade. In those few long seconds that she sat there, Theia couldn't think of an exit plan. She was going to die here, wasn't she? What a stupid way to die after all she had gone through to even get here, but at the same time, at least she would die in the act of serving her native nation. However, dead, she could no longer fulfill her father's dream. This realization under a dire situation awoke something in Theia. Something she hadn't felt since she was a child before she was completely devoted to The Order of Whispers. Her golden eyes well with tears as the empty woman, despite being taught to not show real emotion, especially in battle. However, she was sparked with life beyond the facade of Theia and the empty slate the Order had turned her into. She was tapping into a true self in her desperate helplessness.

I'm sorry, father... I've failed you. Forgive me!​

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, ready to take on her grizzly fate as tears rolled down her pale cheeks. She had gone through so much cruel training, she fought many men, she was subjected to abuse to keep her cover many times, but she never felt fear. This time, she was sure her death was certain, and she could practically taste real fear; not 'Theia's', but her own. It was surreal to the woman to experience herself away from emptiness and falsity. At least she would die knowing that some of her genuine self wasn't entirely stripped away. In a twisted way, this quivering and heart thobbing fear she felt made her feel so... alive!

The orcs' blades reach their greatest height and dive down towards the young spy without mercy. After all, she was the one who decorated the floor with many of their dead. Theia decided to go against both options; standing nor a dagger would get her out of this mess. She said a quiet prayer to the gods that she didn't believe in and braced for the moment her awareness would enter eternal darkness.

 

[Chevalier]

​

For what reason the Prince went back, he himself didn't even know. To risk his life to save someone that he had just met... a person that he did not yet trust... a person who might one day drive a dagger into his back... it was inexplicable, even to himself. Yet, the thought of leaving Theia to such a horrifying fate spurred something within him. The Prince had never fancied playing the part of a hero. He never had any interest in fame or glory. But for some reason, his feet carried him as if they had a purpose of their own, away from safety and back into danger without a moment's hesitation. He would inherit an Empire one day... and still, he would not Theia die on her own.

Upon charging through the flames, his eyes quickly caught the glimpse of several orcs surrounding a familiar figure. The knight had already been defeated, but she was not yet dead. Without a second thought, he charged towards her, sword bared like a hunter's claws. Everything happened in only a few moments, yet for the Prince, it seemed like an eternity. Time moved seemingly slower as he watched three axes fall towards the young, defenseless woman. But before the creature could end her life, the Prince suddenly intervened, catching all three axes with a swift slash of his blade. At the last moment, he managed to redirect their strikes downwards, so that they cleaved harmlessly into the dirt just inches away from Theia's face.

Frustrated growls emanated from their pig-like faces as the orcs that had attempted to strike at the knight turned towards their new opponent, snarling and raising their crude weapons to strike once more. Tristan tightened his grip upon his sword, shifting several paces to the side so that he could stand between them and his fallen bodyguard. No words left his lips as he watched the orcs that surrounded him. They watched him as well, as if the creatures were waiting for an opening to strike... waiting for Tristan to display weakness. For the first time in his life, the Prince had been made the prey rather than the hunter.

But even prey could prove deadly when backed into a corner.

The first orc thought that he was clever, suddenly charging forward to strike at Tristan's left side. But the Prince proved to be skilled with the blade, hastily responding by charging into him as well. The Prince was faster, able to stick his blade into the beast's stomach before he could bring his axe down upon him. But no matter how skilled he was, the numbers would prove overwhelming. The clatter of steel would leave three monsters dead at his feet, but when he turned to fight the remaining three, he would be greeted by an arrow flying in his direction. The sharp projectile immediately hit its mark, punching through his breastplate and piercing his flesh. A sharp pain struck his chest as the Prince let out a pained howl, grasping at his chest as he immediately felt air leaving his lungs. His legs buckled and quivered from the sudden shock, forcing the Prince to stab his sword into the ground in one last attempt to keep himself upright.

Before the orcs could strike their finishing blow, however, their attentions were immediately drawn back towards the burning gate. Captain Vance, along with several dozen knights on horseback charged through the flames, striking down any of the green-skinned warriors that dared stand in their path. The clatter of steel rang out once again, arrows flying in every direction as the rage and chaos of battle resumed, each moment bringing more of the Prince's foot soldiers pouring through the destroyed gate.

"My Lord! Are you alright?!" An officer immediately came to the Prince's side, followed by the Captain and several other soldiers. "Where's the damned Priest?!"

"I'm -- I'm fine." Tristan growled, angrily throwing his helmet off of his head and onto the ground. He pushed the officer away from him, before immediately turning towards Theia. It was almost as if he had completely forgotten there was an arrow lodged firmly into his chest. Hovering closer towards her, he crouched beside her, slipping one of his arms behind her knees and the other against her back. He didn't even ask if she could walk, instead immediately hoisting her into the air as he cradled her across his chest with her head just inches below the arrow that jutted out from his breast.

"Tristan, you don't need to... let one of us -" Vance attempted to stop the Prince, only to be shrugged away. "You need to see a healer."

​

"Have them tend to the others first. I'll - I'll be okay." The Prince would manage to carry Theia away from the battlefield, several feet outside of the gates before setting her down against the mast of a withering tree. Almost as soon as he put her down, Tristan could feel himself struggling to breathe, falling down to his hands and knees as he began to wheeze. His vision would soon begin to blur... then - darkness embraced him.

Was this what death felt like? Cold and alone?

Several days later...
​

Back at the Imperial Palace, several silhouettes crowded within the Prince's bedchambers. The wounded Prince had been unconscious ever since his return, though his heart still beat and air passed to and from his body. The finest healers in the Empire saw that his wounds were cleaned and dressed, while whispers immediately began to spread among the nobility and commonfolk alike. "He's stable. The arrow pierced his lung, but it seems to be healing fine. He should awake soon." One of the court physicians explained, "The Gods were merciful today. All he needs is some rest."

Almost as soon as the physician finished speaking, a portly man adjacent to him immediately interjected, "Unacceptable. The Prince has a full itinerary. His father expects him to make the Royal Banquet tonight, celebrating the 28th Anniversary of his Majesty's Rule. If the Prince does not attend, then our enemies will smell weakness." He explained, "If he is well, then he should be awoken immediately. The Emperor will not be pleased with his son's absence."

"You do realize that the Prince almost died, right? He's the Emperor's son, the one that will one day rule over all of us." Captain Vance growled at the lack of respect for the Prince, "What happens if he dies?"

"The Emperor has other sons. If you ask me, there are others that might make for more suitable-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence." The Captain stood up from his seat, glaring down at the man who dared speak against the wounded Prince, "If I ever hear you say that again, I'll slit your throat and leave you bleeding like a pig."

"Oh? You're just a lowly Captain. A commoner. Lay one hand on me and the Emperor will have you hanged and quartered like the dog that you are." The two men glared eachother down, intensity brewing between them as it seemed like confrontation was inevitable.

"All of you, shut up." Tristan finally spoke, breaking the situation apart and drawing the eyes of everyone in the room back upon him. "Get out. Everyone." When nobody moved from their positions, the Prince's voice became more stern. "Now." It was only then that everyone began to move, making their way towards the doorway. Before Theia would be able to leave her seat, the Prince would reach out to her, grabbing her by the wrist. "Not you. You stay." His strong gaze locked upon hers, staring at her until she would have no choice but to settle back into her seat.

 

[Passion]

She was sure her lifeline was about to be cut, but then, out of all people, the prince himself came to her aid. Saying that she was shocked by the outcome would be putting it lightly. He expressed distrust towards her, and yet there he was, risking his life for her. She saw him move at impressive speeds and skill, the orcs fell. Hope revived in the woman until she saw him take an arrow.

She cried out, "No!" Her tears furthered blurred her vision as she heard the sound of him shouting out in pain. She helplessly extended her hand to the prince who's legs gave in. Usually, Theia was cold enough to not care about the fall of her nation's enemy, but he had just saved her even if he earlier threatened her. She never had anyone save her before under such dire circumstances. She was expecting to either survive on her own or die. She was not raised why the mindset of a noble soldier. Other than gathering intel, The Order was each (wo)man for themselves. It wasn't a lack of care, but spies and assassins usually worked independently in the heart of it all.

At the last second, a comrade jumped in to save the prince, and relief then again washed over her. She couldn't keep her eyes off the prince even those it would be wiser to look for oncoming enemies. Instead, she found herself mesmerized by his bravery, skill, and sacrifice. How could he be the son of such a cruel emperor, and yet save her? Maybe he was right after all; willingly entering battle was for the foolish.

Unable to stand, the shock had her legs temporarily paralyzed. The voice of the Whisper she was buzzed into her mind: On your feet, girl! There could still be enemies around. You been through worse and yet you showed weakness, Shame. What kind of royal guard will you be taken for? He could end up dismissing you from your position. What good is a bodyguard when she was the one who needed to be saved? Get up and prove yourself!

However, conflicting thoughts played in her mind while her eyes were still glazed over in emotion: I can't believe he saved me! A prince himself saved me! He moved with such conviction... such power! He is so brave! I'm sure no other man here would be brave enough to dive back in and help me! My heart is pounding so hard! What are these feelings?! Oh, please be okay! I want to see that fire in his eyes again!

She wasn't self-aware enough to make sense of the thoughts, and it left her feeling a bit panicked. The lingering fear, the shock, the admiration, the adrenaline, and the confusion left her overwhelmingly stunned. It kept her frozen long enough for the prince to scoop up her light and trembling body. Once picked up, she couldn't help but notice the arrow, but she chose to focus on his face. She still couldn't look away. Despite his injury, he still demonstrated composure and strength. So... Dreamy.

She breathed against his chest, "Why did you...-" She paused, her thoughts jumbled. "I was supposed to protect you. You could have died trying to save me. I'm the one who should be injured, but thank you... If I died here, I'd be a restless spirit for all of time."

As they neared the rest of the group, she took a deep breath and muffled the strange state she was in. She then became grounded again in her false role. The look in her eyes turned stale once more. "Next time, my prince, save yourself. Your health and life are more important than a knight's."

----​

It wasn't until they arrived at the castle did she know how serious the prince's injuries were. It caught her off guard since he had carried out of there with fortitude and confidence that day. However, even Theia knew a great warrior wasn't just in skill, but it was also in personality and in mind; one had to be enduring in many ways to survive the heat of battle. She found herself admiring that trait more than she thought she would. So much so, she saw the prince's face haunt her dreams. It wasn't the only reason she couldn't get him off her him. Theia also anticipated harsh words and dismissal was in her future. She failed to protect the prince if she couldn't even protect herself. Her mission would be over. She would fail The Order and... she would never again have the chance to see that powerful look on his face again. Theia, stop! She couldn't get him off her mind, but she continued to do her best to push away personal thoughts and replace them with professional.

Usually, she would wait outside his room when the prince was in his chambers. Allowing him his rightful privacy, and only being a call away if needed, but given the fact he was unconscious in recovery, his guard did not leave his bedside other than when she had no choice to. The quiet and stillness plagued her with her inner conflict, especially with being so close to him. She was the type who enjoyed staying active since inactivity made her mind wander, which she was trained against doing. Focus on the mission, only the mission... but it was so hard to forget that rush and awakening she felt that day... And the image of him.

Even still, her disorganized mind did not deter her from her duty. A good bodyguard trusted no one with a high profile client. Even the healers. All it would take was a knife or even some poison mixed in his medication or water for everything to go south. Working with The Order taught her how cruel and sneaky humans could be, and so she kept a watchful eye on everyone who entered his room. The fact she stood there as a hidden enemy of him and his family was proof that no one should be trusted. After all, the only reason why she was there to begin with was to trick and betray him. However, no orders allowed any aggression towards him. As of now, her goal was simply intel and serving the prince.

----​

Quiet she remained as the other spoke. A woman of few words unless directly spoken to, listening was often key. It was hard to hear that the prince was wanted to attend a royal banquet despite his need for rest, and even worse, overhearing the idea that he was replaceable. Maybe he was in the grand scheme of things he was, but could they actually replace the spirit of the man she witnessed that fateful day? She doubted it; blood or not. Theia read many people beyond their own facades, and she could already tell he was a rarity. She held her tongue and remained at his bedside with perfect posture. She wouldn't act more than a fly on the wall for such disrespectful banter.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a voice that she hadn't heard in days. She looked over to him with her lips apart in surprise. Hearing the command, she was about to raise herself from her seat, but halted when her wrist was grabbed. She looked over her shoulder to the prince and twist her body in her seat to face the side of his bed. "I'm happy to see you are aware and awake, Your Highness. I was worried about you. Is there something I can do for you or get you?" Would this be the moment she was scolded or let go? She masked her worry with a warm smile that complemented her soft, yet misleading features.

 

[Chevalier]

"I'm happy to see you are aware and awake, Your Highness. I was worried about you. Is there something I can do for you or get you?"
​

The Prince ignored her question for a moment, rising from his bed so that he could sit himself upright. "Are you okay?" He asked solemnly, shooting Theia a brief glance before averting his eyes downwards, towards the bandages which covered his scar-riddled chest. It seemed that he was going to have a new one for his collection. But it was worth it, for if the Prince could exchange scars for lives, he would gladly take as many as his body could muster. His chest was bare, apart from the rolls of white gauze that wrapped around his sculpted upper body and although he couldn't feel any pain, he knew that his body needed at least a week's worth of rest.

But there was simply no time for that.​

The Prince tried to move out of bed, the pain suddenly returning to remind the boy of his mortality. He let out a fierce, deep growl as his hands reached to clench at his chest, holding himself still in order to recollect himself. "I'm fine." He looked anything but fine, yet the Prince knew that Theia wouldn't try to insist further on the matter. "I-I need your help." He remarked with a heavy sigh, as he gave up on standing up for the time being. "You heard about the banquet. I-I have to attend." He began, taking a deep breath before continuing, "There are many that would rejoice to see me dead. I'm sure rumors have already begun to spread... while my rivals and enemies alike look to posture themselves to take advantage of the situation." The Prince's eyes hovered towards the knight, who must have been confused about the situation. "I don't know how they do things in Vrey, but this is the Empire. Weakness is seen as opportunity... and I cannot afford to show any."

A crooked smile formed across the Prince's lips, "So, I'll need a date. Preferably someone that I can trust." He didn't trust Theia one bit, after all, she had no reason to be loyal to him. She was from another kingdom, with a set of goals that differed from his own. He had thought about asking her about such aspirations, but he knew that her answer would once again be obscured in dishonesty. 'To serve you', is probably what she would have said, an answer that satisfied no one. His options were quite limited, however. If he didn't want to be poisoned or assassinated, he needed to appear strong, prove that he was the hunter and not the hunted.

Once again, the Prince tried to move from his bed. He was a stubborn one, Theia would quickly come to learn. He had to be, since his own survival hinged upon it. "It's a good thing that I have a pretty bodyguard. One that can't exactly reject me." Finally, being an Imperial Prince proved to have its perks. His weak smile became more noticeable, like a mischievous smirk that radiated in her direction. "If you don't have a dress, I'll arrange for one sent to your room." He hovered towards the door, placing his hand upon the doorknob before pulling it open, "I'm going to bathe. I suggest you do the same. I'll have a servant come fetch you in a few hours." He stepped through the door, before pausing, "See you soon."

​

Several hours would pass before Theia's attention would be drawn to a knock upon her bedroom door. The sun was beginning to fade over the western mountains now, orange rays peering through her window as the servant outside her door waited patiently for her to open it. "Lady Theia. I have your attire for the night. I hear the Prince picked it out himself, but I was told to fetch you something else if you didn't like it." She explained, "May I come inside?" The servant waited for the knight's response, until the door would finally open for her. The servant was quite young, a petite woman undoubtedly in her younger twenties, with dark hair that she kept in a neat ponytail and donning the familiar uniform of a handmaiden.

"Ah, you're so pretty." The girl blushed, staring up at the knight, who stood noticeably taller than her, "N--no wonder the Prince asked you to be his date." A small smile graced her lips, "A-ah, right, your dress! Sorry!" The servant girl stepped inside, clutching a pair of finely decorated boxes against her chest. She brought them inside, placing them upon her bed before opening them. The larger box contained a dark, asymmetrical evening dress, shoulderless, with a bottom hem that left one leg exposed. There was an exposed cut on one side of the dress, which angled upwards and was held together by three, decorative straps which kept the shape tight against the body. The dress came with a separate cape, which could be draped over the shoulder if the wearer chose.

"The Prince... he's aware that he has... interesting tastes. If it's not to your liking, we can bring you something else immediately." She left the box open so that Theia could look at it herself, before opening the adjacent box. "But- the fact the Prince himself picked this out for you... every girl in the palace would be jealous to hear that." The second box was smaller, containing a pair of dark shoes to go along with the dress. A pair of open toe stilettos, fastened by a single strap at the top. "You should try everything on. I'll wait here for you." She motioned towards a screen wall in the corner of the Knight's room, where she would be able to change herself in private. Behind it, was a tall mirror so that she would be able to look at herself once she was done.

"I-I heard that the Prince saved you. There's a rumor going around that he was hit by an arrow. Some people were trying to say that he died, but obviously that's not true." The handmaiden sighed, "If I had known being a Knight would give me the chance to dance with the Prince... I'd have learned how to swing a sword around years ago." She seated herself on the side of Theia's bed, waiting for her to get herself dressed, "Can- can I ask you something, Lady Theia? What is he like? I mean, I've seen him around a few times. All of us can't stop talking about how dreamy he is. But you... you're the only person who has spent time with him. I just want to know what you think of him."

"Is he kind? Rude? What's his type?" She paused, "Ah, I shouldn't ask so many questions about your date. This is your night, after all. What do you think of the dress?"

 

[Passion]

She was taken aback by his first question. Why was he concerned about her well being? Seeing the fact she was sitting there breathing should have been enough, right? "I'm alright. Nothing more than a few bruises that are already fading." She didn't need to look at him closely to know he still wasn't at his 100%. She even knew he was better off in bed, but she had no say on the matter of what the prince did. It made sense from a strategical point of view on why he had to go; she supposed it was better he showed up slightly weakened than not showing up at all. "Yes, I heard. Perhaps you could only stay long enough that your face is seen, and then head back to your chambers." A short visit could be still taken as weakness, but at the same time, royalty was allowed to do as they wished. She wasn't sure entirely what would be expected of him, so she didn't push on the suggestion beyond that.

Eyeing his smile, she wasn't prepared for what he was going to say next. She assumed that he may request extra protection, but instead, he asked her to be his date. It puzzled her greatly. Sure, she couldn't reject him, but she even knew that plenty of women would be happy to accompany him. Women that wouldn't betray him just to have a chance to spend the evening with him. Such a request was much different than expected after he claimed suspicion towards her and Theia felt like she failed him when it came to the role as his bodyguard.

"Of course, my prince. I'd be honored to attend with you." She hadn't wrapped her head around it entirely, but things were about to get more complex for Theia. She needed to be alone, she needed to think.

----​

In her own chambers, the light from her small fireplace illuminated and warmed the room. Her window was open a crack to allow the smoke from the fire to escape. Theia sat at the end of her bed completely motionless with her hair still damp and her body wrapped up in an aroma of rose from her bath. As she sat there in a thin white gown, her eyes were open, but she hardly blinked as she thought to herself. In actuality, she was trying to adjust her internal programming. The real Theia was a woman from Vrey, and the people from Vrey were known to be passive and friendly. If she was the real Theia, who was invited by the prince on a date, she would be flustered and excited, right? Most women would be. She knew it was important to project falsity compared to reality. Her role needed to change to the spirit of one of the luckiest women in the empire. How she really felt didn't matter because it couldn't matter. Anything the real woman felt was muffled away, but how close it was to the surface she didn't even realize.

As she sat in meditative thought, someone beyond the palace was keeping an eye on her. They waited for the perfect moment when security changed shifts for the night, and at a blurring speed, they fired an arrow through the crack in Theia's window. The arrow lodged itself between the gap of two stones. The arrow startled the distracted knight to the point she jumped on her feet in readiness to attack or flee. However, when she looked at the arrow, she saw a small dark blue scroll attached, and she knew exactly what that meant.

Quickly, she pulled the arrow from the wall to free the scroll. She opened it up and read:

Blondie,

We hope your mission has been fruitful thus far. In three nights, a report of your findings is required. In the dead of night, meet us near the forest entrance in the west just off of the main path. If you are unable to meet, we will continue to wait each night until your arrival.

Remain nothing but a Whisper.
-W​

Theia took a deep breath. She didn't have too much to report back on as of yet. She doubted the battle of the orcs or the personality traits she was discovering about the prince was enough. She needed plans, numbers, or some kind of finding worth the Whispers' time. Even so, they all knew at times the most crucial information didn't always come quickly. This mission was far too delicate to be rushed or reckless. However, the prince already showed suspicion towards her, and so she may not have much time in general. It was disheartening, but maybe she would overhear something at the banquet.

As she held the scroll and arrow while lost in thought, she heard a knock at the door. Her eyes narrow, and she rushed to the fireplace to toss both the arrow and the scroll into the flames. "One moment, please!" She watched the flames consume until finally getting the door for the woman. She looked over the petite woman after being complimented. "Thank you, but you are quite beautiful yourself." She did her best now to play the more feminine side of the real knight her group had killed.

Allowing her to step in, Theia took a look at the dress that was picked out for her. She gave the servant a look of curiosity when it was revealed that the prince had picked out the dress for her himself. "Not a worry. As long as it fits me okay, I have no qualms wearing what the prince desires. I'd hate to disappoint him, especially after all he has done for me."

She wasn't surprised to hear that other women might be envious of her position. Not only did she have the chance to be his date, but she had the right to follow him around like some kind of lost puppy. She saw how other women looked at him when he neared. Their eyes would fill with hope that he would look their way, and they often started giggling and whispering after he walked by.

She took the dress and went behind the screen to peel off her flimsy gown and drape it overhead. As she worked on putting on her gifted dress, she listened to the maiden speak. "Devoting your whole life to the sword just for a dance?" Theia bit her tongue. She never understood women's fixation with men. Little did she know that she was developing one, but Theia never had an attraction she held on to. Every time she went back to The Order, she wiped everything away to start anew. She was quick to fall back into place, "I mean, it is a once in a lifetime chance to be able to go on a date with a prince. I never dreamed of it actually happening to me!" A girlish giggle slipped from the night, but just like her, it was false. Emotions are what got to her, not merely situations.

With her dress secure, she looked at her reflection. It was then, seeing herself dressed up that she started to feel... nervous. It wasn't the suggestive cut of the dress, but the weighted realization that she was going to be the prince's date hit her. Why am I nervous? I've been an escort to events plenty of times. I guess in those situations I was just waiting for men to get drunk enough to spill information or lead them away from everyone to end their life. This time, it is different. He is different. He made me feel...- No!

Her thoughts were cut off by the maiden once more who seemed to want to gossip. Theia knew to be careful, and yet not be too cold. Luckily, she could be mostly honest with the woman. "It's okay to ask, but I don't think it is proper for a royal guard to speak about the prince even behind shut doors. I can't say too much anyway when it comes to what his type is or how he is like. Since I arrived, he hardly spoke to me until our last mission he is..." She paused to consider. "But I do know he is kind to those loyal to him, very brave, talented, and..."

'I will fucking break you.'​

She tensed up for a moment as she recalled the sternness in his voice. "Someone you wouldn't want to be on their bad side."

She turned to the side to look at her body, trying to judge for herself if she looked nice, but she was far too airy of a person to cast a solid judgment. For some reason, she found herself caring what the prince thought of her on a more personal level than just keeping him appeased. It was strange. She stepped from behind the screen wearing her dress. "Does this look okay on me?" Oh, it sure did. Giving her life to training not only made her a skilled woman, but her body was toned with strength. With the open slit, her shapely leg and thigh were advertised, and the dress hugged her bust just enough to give her a rounded and perky form to her cleavage. Without a doubt, Theia was an attractive woman even though she didn't really see herself as one. Did she hate her appearance? No, but she never developed much of a sense of self to care or consider.

She walked towards the mirror once more and reached behind her to pull up her long locks to try to get a visual of what she may look like with her hair up. "Do you think I should keep my hair down or put it up?" While she waited for some insight, she completed her outfit by slipping on her heels and heading to her vanity where she had some soft red lip wax which she painted her lips with a light coat of. Other than her hair, she was ready to go.

 

[Chevalier]

The handmaiden took pause at the lady's response, forgetting that Theia was neither a servant nor a woman from a noble family, both of which would have jumped at the opportunity to spread gossip. "My apologies, my Lady. You're right, It wouldn't be right to gossip about the Prince." Her lips fell silent on the matter, but the Knight's words were contradicted by those that followed. "He is quite scary, isn't he?" She chuckled, "But I'm sure a knight like you has nothing to fear, right? After all, you wouldn't be his bodyguard otherwise." She left the conversation at that, not wishing to pry further into the matter. But awkward silence did not linger for long, as the knight soon revealed herself before the servant.

"Oh my. You look-" She paused, almost awestruck by the knight's new appearance. "-absolutely stunning!" She stood up from the side of Theia's bed, hovering closer so that she could gawk at how pretty she looked. "Wh-why would you even wear armor when you look like that underneath? I'm almost jealous - no, I'm actually jealous!" The handmaiden let out a groan, stepping around the woman so that she could get a view from her at all angles. "It seems the Prince doesn't have such bad taste after all..." She mused to herself with a whistle, eyes mulling over the dress that she was wearing. It accentuated her well-defined curves perfectly, the slit that rode upwards across her exposed flank displaying a teasing image of her toned midriff.

When Theia asked about her hair, the servant followed her to the mirror. "Is that even a question? With hair like this, it would be a crime to bundle it all up" She scoffed at the thought, until she watched Theia hold her long hair upwards, "Wait a second." She paused, an idea popping into the young girl's head. "You should put it up." She changed her tune quickly, "I've seen the Prince a few times, always at formal events. Every girl he's been with has had their hair up." The servant would help put up her hair, tying her luscious locks of blonde up. "I'm surprised you can fight with such long hair. Doesn't it get in the way?" She remarked as she put Theia's hair up into a high ponytail, still allowing her bangs and wisps to decorate her alluring portrait while the rest was left to flow behind her.

​

"There. How's that? Are you happy with how you look?" Before Theia would be able to respond, the chime of the cathedral bell would ring out in the distance, signaling the hour's passage. "Ah! We've wasted so much time. We don't want you to be late, now do we?" She took Theia by the hand, before hastily leading her from the room, "Come on! The Prince will have me tossed out a window if I don't get you there on time."

​

The trek between Theia's room and the Prince's was quite far, considering their bedchambers were each placed on opposite wings of the Royal Palace. But despite the labyrinth of spacious and similarly decorated corridors, it was a path that Theia would undoubtedly grow accustomed to, if she hadn't already. The servant would guide the well-dressed knight through the hallways, until the pair would find their gazes falling upon the familiar image of the Prince's door. The door was left slightly ajar and, as if on cue, the Prince stepped from his room and into the hallway, eyes quickly catching the two figures moving in his direction.

"S-sorry we're late, my Lord! I lost track of time. I've brought Lady Theia, as requested." She bowed furiously, tilting her head downwards to hide the shame in her face. "I take full responsibility for this!"

"It's no trouble. I wasn't waiting long." The Prince remarked, turning around to shut the door behind him before taking his attentions back to the servant in front of him. "Thank you, Miranda. If I need anything else, I'll be sure to fetch you."

"Wh-wha? H-how... You know my name?" The servant raised her face, hands reaching up towards her cheeks to hide the blush that had immediately taken hold.

"Should I not? You've been working here for almost a year now. I make it a point to remember everyone who works for me." There was a brief look of confusion that gripped the Prince's face, that soon turned into a brief smirk. It was moments like these that Theia would show the Prince's sadistic alter-ego, "Besides, how could I forget such a vibrant, sapphire gaze?" His voice hung into a low whisper as he leaned in, fingers reaching towards the servant's head to push the small bangs that ran over her eyes. "You shouldn't keep the headmistress waiting. I've heard she can be even more strict than I am." He allowed a smirk to take the corners of his lips. Theia would learn quickly that she wasn't the only one who could act.

"Ahhh! You're right! Thank you my Lord!" Miranda squealed, before spinning about and running away happily.

Once they were alone together, the Prince's faux smile disappeared, his gaze traveling back towards Theia. At first, she would be unable to tell what he thought of her new look, an awkward silence lingering between them as he slowly drifted closer towards her. But as he came closer, she would be able to see the hunger in his eyes, an objectifying, fierce fixation that scanned from head to toe. But the Panther's leering would be different from other men, lacking any inkling of perverse gawking. No, what Theia would feel as the Prince drew dangerously closer would be akin to that feeling she had experienced back within his tent: vulnerability. The Prince was confident and assured, like a hunter carefully plotting to claim its prey.

"I see that you wore the dress. It suits you well." He began softly, hand reaching up towards Theia's decorated portrait, he quickly noticed the splash of makeup that adorned her face, which complimented her features in alluring fashion. His thumb and index finger found the tip of her soft chin, turning her shimmering eyes up towards him once again. "But I wasn't expecting you to take this so seriously." He teased, knowing that the thought of Theia taking their date as if it was real might embarrass her. The Prince was certainly good at eliciting such responses from others. With his fingers still controlling the tilt of her face, he gently angled her face off to the side, so that her ear was fully exposed to him. His lips slowly hovered downwards, so that she would once again be able to feel his hot breath tickle the flank of her soft neck.

"You wanted to impress me, didn't you?" He purred into his date's ear, "You wanted me to see you as not just a knight... but as a woman as well." She would find her face tilted back towards him, his unerringly strong gaze now only mere inches from her own, as if he was once again trying to peer into her very soul. "Don't worry, I've taken notice." It seemed as if a grin was about to curve its way across his handsome canvas, but before it could make away across his face, the Prince suddenly recoiled backwards, a sharp pain assaulting his chest once again.

"Shit!" He growled to himself as he took several steps backwards, gripping at his injury through the dark fabric of his military uniform. He grasped it tightly, moving backwards until he could feel his back collide unceremoniously against the wall behind him. He was breathing heavily now, a single bead of sweat cascading down the silhouette of his masculine features. "I'm alright." He lied, waving off any attempt the Knight would take to assist him. He would lurch against the wall for a few moments, until the pain would finally subside once again. Once the pain had been momentarily dispelled, he straightened his posture, offering up his arm for his 'date' to take.

"...Shall we?"​

 

[Passion]

She accepted the handmaiden's guidance when it came to her hair. It was a good thing she asked; she wanted to blend in as much as possible to fill her new role as the prince's date, and if all his dates wore their hair up, she wanted to as well. Subconsciously, part of the reason she asked was because she did care what the prince thought. She wanted to satisfy the man who saved her, and the one that filled her with admiration and attraction, but this aspect remained unrealized by out-of-touch Theia. She told herself she was merely playing along.

A soft giggle escaped her when her long hair was questioned. "I usually tie it up if I know I'm about to battle. Most would disagree with a knight having such long hair since it could get in the way or be used against them, but... I think I'm still allowed some personal preferences, no?" A soft smile filled her painted lips. "I'm still a woman after all."

After her hair was finished, Theia looked in the mirror one last time. She did a last check to make sure her hair was smooth, and her dress was without any wrinkles or misplacement. Hearing the maiden call out it was time to leave, reality hit her like a ton of bricks. She could barely hear the sound of the bells as her own pulse started to hammer. Nervous... so nervous. She fiddled with her fingertips as she looked at herself in the mirror. It was rare that Theia was nervous. She had been on all sorts of critical missions, and yet it was uncommon that her heart raced like this. She knew she was out of time, it was now or never. She attempted to turn 'off' what she couldn't control but was unable. Theia was raised and trained to be robotic and malleable, but her humanity could not all be erased.

"I am happy, let's go." She then left her room with the handmaiden and a heavy heart. She made sure to study the palace as much as she could since her arrival, so she knew the areas in which she traveled through pretty well. While it was a bit of a walk to the prince's chambers, it seemed like it took forever. Each step felt like seconds apart from each other, while her mind buzzed with anxiety, excitement, and planning. With each click of her heels against the polished floor, the sound rang in her ears with each step due to her heightened senses. She wasn't taking this well. It was much easier trying to slay an army of orcs.

Once they got to his door, she waited behind the maiden and took a deep breath. She did her best to still herself to the point she was hardly breathing. Silent she remained as the prince showed himself to tease his handmaiden. She didn't think anything about it at first, but then a brewing feeling became so overwhelming that her eyes darted away.

Hello?! I'm the one who got ready for you! I'm the one wearing the dress YOU picked out. What is this?!

Really? Knock it off! When the hell did I start caring what a man thinks? Wait... the real Theia might feel this way anyway. So, I can embrace these feelings safely, right? ​

After Miranda ran off in elation, Theia left some relief. When she looked back over to the prince, she saw that his smile had faded. She couldn't read him, but as a fellow wolf in sheep's clothing, she knew not to trust him at face value. She allowed the awkward silence burn among them. It was as if she needed his voice, touch, or guidance to reanimate herself. She knew she should greet him properly, but she felt stalled in his presence. She held still as he came near and eyed her body, and his intense gaze alone made her feel both violated and exposed. She did feel vulnerable, and it was beyond the way he looked her while she was wearing a suggestive dress. She was also without a weapon, but most significantly, she was trapped in the role of his loyal knight. She was bound by both her duty and her position. Without any kind of command from The Order, she was his prey, servant, knight, date, or anything he wished her to be.

With his hand on her face, his compliment soothed her. However, it was his second comment that caught her off guard. She even surprised herself how seriously she took her appearance in her chambers where she couldn't stop looking at herself in the mirror. Serious enough that it somehow struck a nerve with her. "Why wouldn't I take it seriously, Your Highness? You deserve the best from me. If that is in combat or at your side for a feast." She smiled at him, but her pale face was slightly reddened from being flustered since she put on her dress.

Her quickened pulse rate returned when he was close enough that she could feel his breath lapping against her delicate neck, and she could pick up on his subtle natural scent. She knew what he was reaching for. Something beyond the woman who presented herself as only a knight, but luckily for her, her position allowed for her to easily go along. "I wanted to impress you since you are royalty that I respect and serve. As a knight and a woman from another nation, I'm beyond flattered and lucky you asked me to attend with you. I understand that now you need a woman by your side more than a knight, and I'm more than happy to comply." With her hands politely at her side, she allowed her head to be lulled towards his directly. Her eyes locked with his, and at that moment, she felt her facades starting to quake. Her voice dropped it a whisper, "It is an..." She breathed as she soaked in his intoxicating and powerful presence, "honor." There was an unwilled spark in her eyes...

Ah!~ Don't look away from me! Please, don't! No one has ever looked at me like this! I feel so nervous, but it is so electrifying! I can feel myself getting pulled in! I-...

Her thoughts and dreamy state were cut off when stepped back in pain. A a soft gasp escaped her, and without hesitation, she reached a hand out to try to support him, but she was deterred away. "Are you sure you are okay?" She frowned in concern, and some guilt in her started to stir. He wouldn't be hurt if it wasn't for me! - I should be happy he is in pain! He is the enemy!

She would give him a moment to gather himself, and she used the time to try to get her head on straight. She walked over to his side and took his offered arm elegantly. She looked up and to the side at him. "If you start not feeling well, just let me know. I'll escort you to your room. Please try not to push yourself too hard, Your Highness." With that said, she squeezed his arm closer to her and would start to walk with him.

 

[Chevalier]

​

As the pair began to walk through the intricate, palace hallways, Tristan could feel his balance occasionally fail him, short bursts of pain claiming his focus as he leaned upon his date for support. As much as he was embarrassed to admit it, he was happy that Theia was strong, capable of at least holding some of his weight against her. But eventually, such moments became less frequent, allowing the Prince to walk on his own accord. "I'll try my best, thank you." With arms interlocked within one another, the couple would make their way to the throne room, where the night's festivities had already begun.

In front of the great archways of the throne room, a large crowd of budding nobles had already amassed themselves, intermingling with one another as the tune of live music hummed from within. Upon seeing the Crown Prince, the nobles immediately turned their attentions upon him, a sea of eyes drawn to them like moths to a flame, watching with a myriad of emotions: fear, respect, jealousy, admiration... hatred. The Prince had many friends, but twice as many enemies - most of which would be gathered here. Tristan hated the thought of courtly intrigue almost as much as he hated battle. But at least in combat, the sides were more distinct. Here? It was impossible to tell who was on his side and who wanted to drive a knife into his back.

The very thought caused him to draw his gaze to the woman at his side, gorgeous as she was, yet with a background that still produced many red flags. Could Theia truly be trusted? Or were her motivations far more nefarious? The Prince wanted to trust her, but there was a feeling... one that was swelling deep within him, lingering despite the kind words that seemed to always leave her lips. Perhaps, in time, such paranoia would disappear... or perhaps not.

As they hovered closer to the crowd, the nobles would separate themselves so that the Crown Prince and his date could enter the room. Though they parted like water against the bow of a ship, that didn't stop the staring, along with the words that passed from lip to scheming lip.

"Who is she? I've never seen her around before. Is she from another country? She's so pretty!"

"I thought the Prince had been wounded in battle... but it seems like he's survived... shame. I think his brother would make a better ruler."

"Ah, the Prince is so dreamy! But why does he insist on being with such vapid women? You can practically tell she's lowborn."

The whispered gossip became more brutal with each step the couple took, but the venomous words that dribbled from their lips didn't phase the Prince in the slightest. He glanced down towards the woman beside him, checking to see if their words had any effect upon his knight. Even if they did, Theia seemed to hide it well, for it seemed that her face was unchanged by the gossiping nobles. The knight was a difficult one indeed, it was often hard for the Prince to tell what she was thinking... or how she felt. It was only the times that he was uncomfortably close to her that he could see honest emotions draw into her alluring gemstones. "Don't pay attention to them." The Prince's gaze turned away from his well-dressed bodyguard, "Jealousy is a disease that plagues the nobility."

They were surrounded by a wave of unfamiliar faces now, with many nobles dancing to the gentle hymn of pianos and violins. One could easily pick out the different classes of people among the nobility. The Lords and Ladies that ruled over vast swaths of land donned ostentatious outfits of vibrant colors, while foreign ambassadors wore outfits from their home countries and servants wore less regal, but still formal attire. There was another group of guests, however, that looked different. They wore uniforms of black, similar to that of the Prince, with sheathed blades settled upon their waists. It wouldn't be long until one of these figures would find their way to the duo, sauntering over towards them with confidence.

"Well, well. It seems that death has eluded you once again..." The man that stood in front of them was of thinner build, but similar height to Tristan, with a head of silver that flowed to shoulder length. "...Brother."

"You sound disappointed, Casimir." Tristan glared at his younger half-brother, one of the many sons that his father had after the death of Tristan's mother. The Emperor had many Queens, many of which would die under mysterious circumstances. The Emperor would never wait long, marrying the next young wife that sought power and prestige and bearing more children. It was such scandal that filled House Elysia with many potential heirs to the throne, all of which would watch Tristan with interest. "I assure you, It will take more than an arrow to make you Emperor."

"I'm a patient man." The younger Prince remarked, eyes drifting over towards Theia, "Is this your fuckdoll for the night?" He hovered closer, a grin stretched from ear to ear. "You're a pretty one, aren't you? It's no wonder that Tristan's taken an interest in you."

"I don't care if you speak ill of me, but you will show my date the respect that she deserves." Tristan growled, his face visibly annoyed by his brother's antics. "Unless you wish to settle the matter of who will ascend the throne... here and now." The Prince was bluffing, of course. Although the Crown Prince had rightfully earned a reputation as a fearsome warrior, Casimir was no stranger to swordsmanship as well. With Tristan's injured state, he wasn't sure he would be able to win such a duel. Even Theia must have known such a fight would be risky, especially seeing how much difficulty he had just standing straight. As soon as he spoke such a warning, he tightened his grip upon Theia, pulling her closer to him possessively.

"Fight... you? Come, Tristan. Even I'm not that foolish. If the Panther could settle all of your matters with fighting, you wouldn't have any enemies left, would you?" He chuckled, before drawing his attentions back to the woman at his side, "I apologize, I didn't mean to offend, My Lady." He bowed, "I am Prince Casimir, son of Emperor Agremon Elysia and Third in Line to the Imperial Throne. I am sure you've heard about me." He raised himself, his grin still plastered across his face, "Beautiful women are treasured sights, indeed. Female Knights, especially." He paused momentarily, before leaning closer towards the female knight, "Say, should my brother ever accidentally fall from his horse, perhaps you could be my date." He chuckled, knowing that his words would strike a nerve within his older brother, "I assure you, I'm far more fun in bed than he is." He added, before finally moving on, "Which Kingdom are you from?"

"She's from Vrey." Tristan interjected, still annoyed by Casimir's treasonous antics. "And she belongs to me."

"Vrey? What a coincidence. Do you know Helena?" The younger Prince motioned to a woman behind him, beckoning her to come towards him. "She's an ambassador from Vrey. I'm sure you've met at some point, no?" As the woman approached them, Casimir turned towards her, "This knight comes from your kingdom. I figured you two would like to say hello." The ambassador turned towards Theia, looking her up and down with a smile drawn across her face. "I'll leave you to it. I have other matters that I must attend to." With that, Casimir disappeared into the crowd, leaving the pair with the Ambassador.

"Hello! I'm Lady Helena of Vrey, Daughter of the Duke of Everglade. You must be Lady Theia, correct? I was briefed ahead of time that we had a knight serving here." Almost immediately, Tristan recognized that the Lady possessed an accent that was quite prominent, one that Theia herself did not possess. "I forget, which Noble House do you come from again?"

 

[Passion]

She gripped Tristan tight each time he used her for support while mindfully slowing her pace. While she wasn't the physically strongest knight in the palace, she had more than enough strength to keep him upright. Eventually, he seemed to gather himself, but Theia remained on alert. She may not always agree with him, but she knew there was no need for him to make an embarrassment out of himself by stumbling in front of officials. She hoped that it would be an easy enough mission.

Once they arrived, her curious gaze scanned the room, but stopped when she noticed that every pair of eyes were on them. Theia, the real fallen knight wouldn't be used to such attention, but nor was the actual woman who was trained to hide in the shadows. It was overwhelming, but nothing that Theia couldn't handle. She took a breath as she read the room for its intensity. All the contradictions made the atmosphere chaotic in nature, even if everyone was currently in a peaceful state. It made her wonder if she should have concealed a weapon just in case someone targeted the prince or herself, but Theia was confident in her adaptability.

As they walked, it was hard not to hear the mumbling of the crowd as they expressed their conflicting views. She was surprised at how bold some of them spoke. If she could hear them, she knew the prince could as well. She sensed Tristan's eyes on her, and so she glanced over to him to then give him a reassuring nod. She knew to not let the words of others bother her, but it was a bit difficult to deal with when the numbers were so great. All of them, judging and whispering at once. Theia didn't handle being center stage well, as a Whisper, it was a place she never meant to be.

She noted the nation colors that were there. The information might be important, although the Whispers had a general idea who was supporting the empire and who wasn't. It was without any shock that she didn't spot any nobles dressed in Luron's blue. While Luron was not a known enemy of the Aurelian Empire, their silence spoke loud. Any attempt to trade, invite, or even speak to the King and Queen of Luron was shrugged off. They didn't want anything to do with the empire, and they were many nations away. They appeared in a neutral stance, watching the empire conquer lands and upsetting the balance of power, but they would not dare to offer any goodwill towards the deemed power-hungry empire.

Her observations were cut short by what appeared to be prince Casimir. She remained quietly by Tristan's side as the tension between the brothers brewed. Her eyes widened for a moment when the aggression was directed at her. It wasn't the comment itself that bothered her, but the fact that her presence was being used against Tristan. She held her tongue, and in her pause, he spoke up for her. She glanced back up at the side of his face in appreciation, but her eyes narrowed in disapproval when he spoke of battle. She squeezed his arm tightly as a sly attempt of nonverbal communication that he should reconsider. She figured he was bluffing, but she wasn't quite sure. If anyone was going to turn a banquet into a bloodbath, it would be the Elysia family.

Luckily, Casimir had enough sense to not take the bite. With that, she lessened her grip on his arm. She gave the other prince a bow of her head. "It is an honor to formally meet you, Prince Casimir. I'm Theia Levane." While she thought maybe he would show her more respect, he instead continued to speak to her in a lewd manner. Her eyes narrowed into a fierce glare when the word 'accidentally' slipped from his lips. Her demeanor shifted to one where it seemed like she was moments away from reaching out and attempting to snap his neck. Her role as Tristan's loyal knight burned in her, and she took each role she had to play deeply.

Before she could either say something or strew with too much disdain, her prince spoke up for her once more. This time, bluntly claiming her for himself. She was his guard after all, but something about the way he said it made her cheeks take on a rosy hue.

It appeared matters were about to become more difficult hearing that someone from Vrey was at the event. She should have anticipated it. Part of her training was studying Vrey. However, she only had a few weeks of training. There simply wasn't enough time to learn every detail about the kingdom she rarely visited and was rarely talked about in her own home nation. At least she heard of the ambassador; it was a far too important title to not know the basics of. Even so, she was not prepared enough to talk about Vrey to an official. She had to take the limited information she knew about the real Theia and create her own story with the hope it was believable.

With a bow of her head, Theia greeted Helena. No, Theia didn't have enough time to master the Vrey's accent, but she was careful enough to at least to remove her Luron accent. Surely, the spy would have an excuse for that too. "It is nice to meet you in person, Lady Helena. I've heard many great things about you." Lie. "I'm the daughter of the great merchant, Kiden Levane. I'm not originally from a noble home, but my family gained a lot of respect from many nobles throughout the land." True; she knew at least that much.

In the kingdom of Vrey, Kiden developed a bit of a reputation for his family. He was known as a charismatic merchant that bought luxury goods from other nations and sold them to the rich and royal throughout the kingdom. He also was known for bandit slaying, as he often had a target on his head for carrying expensive goods. He trained his wife and children to learn how to fight just in case they were ever targeted. Theia's development became impressive enough that she was recruited as a soldier and eventually found her way to the position of knight. However, Theia didn't know what noble families actually supported 'her' all the way to the castle. She assumed Kiden must have pulled some strings to get her in and earned the trust of those above him, but this was all unknown territory to the spy.

Aware that this was an unsafe conversation, especially in front of the prince, Theia tugged lightly on his arm to either try to direct him away with her or free herself. "You must excuse me, I'm rather parched." She tried to force the conversation to an end. "Once again, it was nice meeting you. Please enjoy yourself!" A forced friendly smile filled her face before she looked away to try to find water or wine to quench her lying thirst.

 

[Chevalier]

​

Although there was nothing hiding among Theia's words that would suggest she was lying, Tristan could practically feel the apprehension that took over her body upon meeting the Ambassador. The conversation was strange... awkward, even... as if the Knight was becoming increasingly uncomfortable talking to the powerful noblewoman from her own country. He would have expected Theia to ask about the happenings in her homeland, or even any recent events that may have transpired during her absence. But rather than engage in small talk, the knight instead searched for the quickest opportunity to dismiss herself. The Prince was well-acquainted with the intricacies of courtly intrigue and Theia's excuse to dismiss herself was quite common, but it was one that practically screamed, "I don't want to talk to you."

The Prince allowed Theia to pull away from him, his rabid paranoia and curiosity forcing him to stay just a moment longer. "I'll catch up with you in just a moment, Theia." He glanced down at his knight, giving her a fake, yet comforting smile in case his bodyguard became suspicious. Both the Ambassador and the Prince waited for the knight to have removed herself from the conversation completely, before the Prince would finally turn back towards the woman from Vrey. "My apologies, Lady Helena. Theia hasn't talked much since our return from the battlefield."

"She's a strange one, isn't she?" The Ambassador frowned, "In Vrey, it is custom for Ladies to curtsey rather than bow. This is especially true for knights, as the lady knights of Vrey are heavily encouraged to embrace their femininity. It is weird, uncomfortable even, to see a woman from my country bow her head like a man."

The Prince's suspicions were finally awarded with a piece of information that brought Theia's true identity to question. Curiously, the Prince took it upon himself to play the devil's advocate, "She's been here for over a month now. It's possible she was simply following our customs. Imperial Knights bow in the same fashion, regardless if they are male or female." It was a reasonable excuse, one that the Prince knew that Theia herself might use if confronted by him. It was beginning to seem like Theia had secrets of her own... secrets that she didn't want the Prince to know about.

Helena shook her head, "That is unlikely. She is still a Knight of Vrey, not an Imperial. We expect her to represent our people in her service to you." She explained, pausing to change the subject, "Ah, but maybe I'm just looking too deep into things. I should leave you to enjoy the rest of your night, my Prince." The Ambassador bent her knees, hands gripping the fabric of her dress and lifting it ever so slightly as she crossed one foot behind the other, "Until next time." With that, the Ambassador departed, leaving the Prince to search for his date once again.

The Prince would eventually find Theia not too long afterwards, standing near a servant who was handing her a glass from his round serving tray. "I'll take a glass of wine as well, if you could." Tristan would be handed a petite glass of crimson wine, holding it in his hands as he glanced over towards the center of the room. Past the crowds of nobles, there was a large, open space where nobles danced with one another, enjoying the lively music that played from the hands of the Empire's most talented musicians. "I apologize that I can't dance right now." Of course, dancing was probably too dangerous given his current conditions. "It would have been a nice way to enjoy this night with you." He brought the glass up to his lips, taking a sip of wine and allowing the sweet alcohol to sate his parched tongue.

"Ah, there's something I want to show you. If that's alright." His signature, fake smile took his lips. An eerie, yet almost mesmerizing grin that practically screamed dark intentions. But what place would it be for his bodyguard to say no to their master? He offered up his arm once more, waiting for her to take it before guiding her through the crowds and towards a large doorway at the far end of the room. Upon approaching the doorway, two Imperial Knights, clad in black armor, immediately moved to stop them.

"Halt. The balcony is off-limits," one of the two knights spoke in a commanding voice, only to change his tune upon seeing just who he was addressing, "Prince Tristan! My apologies, we didn't know you were here." the other knight remarked, "You may use the balcony as you'd like, my Lord."

"Thank you, gentlemen." The Prince watched as the knights opened the door for the pair, waiting for them to step outside, "If you could please give us some privacy, I would appreciate it. Even if it's one of my other brothers, I'd like to have some time alone."

"Of course, my Lord."

Tristan would guide Theia from the ballroom and onto the balcony, where they would be able to see the beautiful mass of city lights below. It was a fantastic view of the capital, the little embers that burned far away bringing light to the lively and bustling people below. The weather was becoming slightly colder in the waning of the sun's light, but it was nothing that the two warriors weren't already used to. "It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" Tristan mused, tipping his glass once more against his lips to empty what wine remained from his glass. He placed the empty glass down upon a nearby table, giving Theia a final moment to appreciate the sight before turning his gaze upon her once again.

Suddenly, the Prince would grab his date by the wrist, tightly capturing the thinnest part of her arm between his brawny hands. He would forcefully tug her, pulling her off balance and towards the wall behind them. In an instant, Tristan had turned into a completely different person: crude and unrelenting, with no regard to whatever throes of surprise would leave her lips. He took Theia and unceremoniously threw her backwards against the wall, before immediately closing the distance behind her. He pinned the full extremity of his weight against her, so that even the skilled fighter wouldn't be able to escape underneath his overwhelming stature. His hands once again went for her wrists, this time grabbing both and hoisting them over her head, causing whatever glass was in her hand to fall to the ground and shatter in a resounding CRACK!

"Do you think I'm a fool, sweetheart?" His voice fell into that deep, primal voice of his once again, the same tone that he took every time their lips were only inches apart from one another, the same tone that drew even the proudest women wild with need and lust. It was unprincely, a coarse, rough and uncouth voice that sounded almost more animal than human. His hands tightened their already firm grip upon both of her wrists, until his possessive grip would begin to slightly hurt Theia. His foot kicked away the broken glass below them, before his leg hooked itself upon her ankle, pushing it ever so slightly to the side so that his leg would be able to take up positing between her own. "You're hiding something from me." He growled once again, lips edging dangerously close to her own. This time, however, the Prince would allow them to press against one another. He crashed his lips against her own, forcing his lips against her plush pillows in a passionate, bruising kiss. As lips pressed against lips, Tristan refused to shut his eyes, allowing her to see the spiteful glare that overtook them as she was left helpless but to accept his sweltering kiss.

The kiss lasted seemingly for an eternity, his tongue pressing between her lips to tease passingly at her own. But as much as he wanted the moment to last forever, anger still brewed within him. As his lips pulled away, a small trail of saliva wove their mouths together, dribbling slightly before the evidence of his nefarious deed pooled upon Theia's exposed cleavage. "You haven't forgotten, have you?" He didn't elaborate any further. He knew that the words back in the tent were still resounding in the little knight's mind. How if she betrayed him, that he would break her... over and over again, until her mind, body and soul were filled with regret. "What did I say I'd do to you if you betrayed me?" His hands moved away from her own, freeing them so that one of his could once again find her neck. If she had forgotten, then surely his hands upon her neck would swiftly remind her of that moment... his warning to her.

"Say it." He commanded impatiently, louder this time, so that she would fear the consequences of making him wait any longer. As his hand tightened itself upon her throat, his other delved downwards, trailing tenderly over the cut in her dress and following it all the way down to her legs.

 

[Passion]

She slipped away successfully from the conversation and took comfort in the prince's misleading smile. There was still some concern as he lingered to speak to the woman. It irritated her that she was unable to hear the conversation taking place. The less the prince knew about Vrey, the better. The crowd, music, and distance, all worked against the spy and left her in the dark. At least it couldn't be as bad as her trying to talk to the ambassador in front of Tristan as 'Theia', right? She retrieved a glass of wine, and as she sipped, she looked over the rim of her glass to uneasily study the pair.

It wouldn't be too long until he found her side again. She giggled under her breath when he spoke of wine and dance; maybe all was fine. "Not a worry, my Prince. It's flattering just knowing you would dance with me, but please don't push yourself." She frowned in light worry over his healing injury. "Knights aren't usually known for dancing unless it is with a sword anyway." It worked out in her favor. Dancing with the prince would bring even more attention her way. The more she was noticed, the more she would need to deceive. - Remain nothing but a Whisper.

Her head tilted to the side. He wanted to show her something? Curiosity struck her, and her copper eyes spotted the deviant look on his face that made her skin tingle. With a subtle, deep breath, she smiled and laced arms with him. "Please lead the way then, Your Highness." As they walked, her mind raced with possibilities of what he had in mind. She figured the only reason they would leave the event was when it was time to retire to his room to rest. Instead, they walked by active guarding knights out to the balcony. Her heart skipped a beat when he issued a command for privacy.

What's going on?

Her heart fluttered in anticipation as they walked through the doors and once they did, they were greeted by a dazzling sight of a sea of sparkling lights that illuminated against the night. She sighed in delight, "truly is beautiful..."The capital lights reminded her of Luron. A similar sight she often saw when the Whispers met with the King and Queen.

As she looked out, taking in the chilled but fresh nightly air, for a second she wondered. What if the guests and the prince nonjudgmentally knew her true position in all this? Would they be more impressed than hearing the story about a small knight who quickly raced up through the ranks? While it didn't bother her, she knew many here looked down upon her other than her physical appearance, especially for being a foreigner lost in a prideful nation of red, but little did they know it wasn't only the prince who was next in line to greatness and status. His fate was publicly glorified and graced with gold, but hers was forever to remain in the shadows even amongst her own people; The Order of Whispers unknown outside a selective few. Even so, the woman who followed the prince around like any loyal servant, would one day be the one who to whisper irrefutable orders into her true King's ear. She had the possibility to one day rule Luron in the very shadows that she hid in. She did not crave such power, but she desired to fill her father's shoes.

While lost in idle thought, her wrist was grabbed. She sensed the aggression before it came, and merely gasped. Her body thrown towards the wall, her wine splashed on her hand. "Wh-what?" Stunned, she was left looking up at him as he used his weight against her to keep her pinned in place. With his body pressed against hers in violation of her personal space, her face turned a heated red. Once calm, she suddenly was overwhelmed. He is so close. This is bad, but he is so close to me... This feeling. With her arms captured as well, her glass of wine fell from her hands and shattered on the floor below her, but she gave it no mind at all. All of her focus was on him.

With each breath she took, she felt his unyielding body against hers. Her feminine instincts were awakening. "Never, my Prince. I know you are a wise man." Shit. She knew she was in trouble, he was too determined to follow through on his suspicions. He had been on to her since nearly the beginning and constantly kept her on her toes. It seemed he had a good gut for this kind of stuff, or maybe... she could twist this into the belief of paranoia. "Did the near-death experience, being in a room full of enemies, or what your brother said get to you, Your Highness?" Her tone was sweet as if she was actually concerned, but she wished she could smirk as she attempted to distort the narrative. "You should relax. Pl-please don't hurt yourself." Her face did its best to paint a depiction of innocence which was quite easy to do given her fair features.

With her leg forced to open so he could better find his place against her, she knew she wasn't going to get out of this that easily. His presence was engulfing her in a way she couldn't comprehend. Feeling him so tight against her made her head spin. The air between them was heavy with tension, one of attraction and challenge. The longer she was forced to bask in his passive intensity, the more she could feel her confidence slipping in favor of the delightful haze he induce in her.

It was much like in the ballroom, too much attention on her was harder to work under, and the way he was trying to look beyond her layers to find her truth felt more piercing than all the stares in the ballroom. Her breath was shaken with nervous excitement while face to face with her unspoken enemy. She allowed some of her natural reactions to show with the real Theia in mind. "Th-the only thing I-I'm hiding is how much I want to imp-press you, m-my Prince. You might fi-find it too much for a foreigner, but..." As he leaned in, her voice drops to a heart-filled whisper, "I want to... prove to you my worth..."

The bitter words that came from his lips were replaced with an abrupt but tantalizing kiss. Her pupils dilate, her body trembled, and her mind soared. Was she dreaming? For that moment of time, her mind went completely blank. She became a sponge for the high. She forgot about her real and fake missions, and she chased the rush she was feeling by kissing him back with fervor. A soft whimpering sound escaped her lips for at that moment, she was no longer a knight or spy, but the woman underneath it all. Her empty coldness was replaced with heat. The naturality of it was new to her, and it was hard to not savor it while rendered helpless by his physical form and the titles they possessed. When their lips were locked and she was unable to escape, there was nothing to do or think, only the present mattered. Only he mattered.

When the kiss broke, Theia's lashes fluttered open, and her eyes were glazed over in her daze. She felt a magnetic pull that attempted to drive her right back to him in some odd and desperate way she couldn't yet grasp. Did he drug me? Was something wrong with that wine? My heart won't stop pounding! I feel so warm... Her breathing was quick, her face red, she still couldn't find much ground to think. He somehow intoxicated her. The feeling made her restless and was slightly frightening as her self control and discipline were tested. She had no idea she could have such a reaction to a kiss. Sure, she had been with men before, but only out of duty. It was never with someone like him. She found something real on his lips, something... addictive.

The pattern of sweet to bitter returned before Theia could get too wrapped up in bliss. She was forced to recall what he had told her before they went into battle. She thought about it every day since he had said it. She didn't want to believe it, and she wanted to forget his threatening words because she knew that if someone was going to pry the truth out of her, it would be someone like him.

With his hand around her throat, even with her arms free, she did not resist. Another rush rolled through her body. She didn't understand it, but Theia found excitement and an obscure sense of peace when she was incapacitated enough that her masks or actions no longer mattered. If she struggled to move or even control her breath, then, she could simply be in the moment for the better or worse. She winced and a soft whimpering sound escaped her as he ordered her to state his impactful words. She whispered carefully, "You'll...," she paused in hesitation, her heart strained. "...Break me." Just saying the words made her quiver since the thought alone drove a personal fear in her; Will he find me if he does? He can't! She hardly knew who she was underneath it all.

He couldn't know the truth, she had to hold on to the spirit of the murdered knight. It wasn't just about her wellbeing, but it could devastate her entire kingdom if the King found out and decided to plot unmerciful revenge. She begged with honesty shimmering in her eyes, "Please... Give me time... to-to prove mys-self to you!" For at least the next three days, she meant it. Her mission was already aligned with being his to the best of her capability. To serve and discover.

 

[Chevalier]

​

The Prince's eyes beamed down upon Theia, who found her petite form pressed up between the wall and the man bearing down upon her. Despite his pools being as dark as the evening night, they burned with the intensity of the sun, watching as the Knight was left to bask beneath his powerful grip. Her clever attempts at misdirection only served to worsen the situation, her almost eerie calmness causing the Prince to doubt her even more. If Theia was truly his loyal knight, then she would surely have shown at least some surprise to the Prince's accusations, or at the very least, taken offense that the Prince would even suggest that the foreign knight was responsible for something so dishonorable.

But Theia did neither of these things. Instead, she tried to utter sweet words to him, make the Prince question his own sanity. It was a commendable attempt, but Tristan would not be swayed so easily. He would listen patiently, waiting silently for Theia to finally speak, waiting for her to recite his words from only a few nights ago. He knew that they were still reverberating in her mind, following her every thought like a shadow that she could not escape. When the words finally fell from her delectable lips in a cautious whisper, only then did the Prince continue. One flank of the lips that had forcefully pressed themselves upon her curled upwards, until a crooked smirk was printed upon his features.

"Don't worry, you'll have the opportunity to prove yourself to me." He paused, lips once again drawing closer, almost as if he was signaling another attack upon Theia's own, "Whether you like it, or not." He purred, though, instead of another kiss, she would be met with the tightening of his hand upon her throat. It would press the flanks of her slender windpipe, until he could once again hear the sweet, crackling melody of choking grace his ears.

As his masculine digits claimed her throat, his other reached downwards, having already run down the exposed length of her waist. It would crawl downwards, until finding its way between her legs, delving into the open slit of her dress so that it could force itself deeper into forbidden territory. Cautiously, two fingers positioned themselves between her slightly parted thighs, slowly prodding and rubbing against Theia's virginity through soft undergarments. The tips of each, manly digit were coarse, though it wouldn't be long until they would feel slickened by the sweet arousal that dribbled vulgarly between them, coated thoroughly in Theia's desperate, natural neediness.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He growled, "Such a shame, that your body is more honest than your words." The hunter knew that no amount of training could have ever prepared his prey for this moment. Theia could lie as much as she wanted, but Tristan would eventually pry the truth from her lips. Femininity would prove to be the spy's true weakness, her natural allure to the Prince turned against her by the very man she would find herself infatuated with.

Yet, even though the Prince sought to bring the truth to light, there was something about Theia... the way that she blushed at his closeness, the way her breath hitch from each of his movements, the way she practically surrendered herself to the Prince that enticed him. She was beautiful, yes, but Prince Tristan had always been surrounded by gorgeous women. What made her so different? Perhaps it was the secrets that she kept bound close to her heart, almost challenging Tristan to forcefully unravel them. Maybe it could have been that shimmering gaze, that was so proud and so strong, only to waver seductively upon meeting his. Or perhaps, the young man was also falling into the deep, never ending pits of obsession.

Wayward, dexterous fingers would continue to prod at the forbidden area between Theia's legs, gliding carefully over her covered slit, passing gently back and forth as they teased her. All the while, the hand wrapped firmly around her neck continued to squeeze her, pressing out what little oxygen remained in her lungs. The Prince wanted to give her a little taste of pleasure, show her just how good he could make her feel... along with the power that he held over her. But he didn't want her to feel too good, at least, not until he managed to extract what he wanted from her. "It's okay..." His fingers finally parted from their teasing, retreating slowly upwards as his strong gaze stayed transfixed upon her own.

"The truth always comes out, eventually." His grip upon her neck loosened, allowing her to breathe once again. She would be faced with the sight of his hand between them, his two fingers visibly coated in Theia's arousal. It webbed between his masculine digits, before the Prince would close in, parting his lips so that his tongue could lap at the sweet nectar that she had left upon his fingertips. The smell... the taste... it aroused the Prince immediately, to the point where he felt himself growing mad with lust. But rather than act upon his desires, he would step backwards, leaving the knight to lurch upon the wall behind her.

"Guards!" He suddenly shouted, waiting for the two soldiers that had been standing at the doorway to enter the balcony, "Escort the lady to my bed chambers. Do not allow her to leave until I've arrived." The two guards wasted no time in following their Prince's command, swooping in to take Theia to the Prince's bedroom, by force, if she were to choose to resist them.

​

Several hours would pass as Theia would be left to the Prince's room. There she would find herself confined, unable to leave with two guards that stood watch just beyond the door. There, she would be left to contemplate what she should do, while simultaneously dreading the Prince's intentions upon his return. Though she had been within these walls many time before, this would be the first time that she would be left alone in the Prince's bedchambers, where his prominent scent lurked around every object. It was his domain... and Theia had been left there, helpless and alone.

The evening would grow darker as the night wore on, the passage of time marked only by the movement of the moon that peered through the tall window which decorated the furthest wall. Eventually, she would hear the familiar cadence of footsteps signal the Prince's arrival. Slowly and ominously, the golden doorknob would rotate in place, before the door would steadily draw inwards. Tristan would say nothing as he stepped into the room, hands reaching to his front to unbutton the tabs that held his uniform in place. Pulling the black jacket from his shoulders, he would hang the coat upon a nearby rack, before turning his gaze once more towards Theia.

"Come here." He commanded as he raised his hand, beckoning with his fingers for her to come towards him. He waited patiently, until she would do as she was told. Defiance would earn her no extra points here, the Prince waiting impatiently until she was within arm's reach. When she would finally draw closer towards him, he would suddenly reach out, grabbing her by the wrist before giving her a powerful tug. Her balance in her high heels would be tested as he pulled her towards him, spinning her around so that her back was acquainted with his chest. She would find herself face to face with his tall mirror, forced to gaze upon herself as the Prince pressed himself into her from behind.

"You're going to be a good girl for me tonight, Theia." His hands reached around her body, those muscular, brawny hands that had once protected her... now turned against her. They gently gripped at her waist, before slowly roaming upwards until they found her chest. The Prince would waste no time taking both of her breasts between his palms, giving them a firm, objectifying squeeze, just tight enough where it would be uncomfortable for the little knight that stood in his grasp. "Be a good girl... and I won't hurt you. Do you understand?" As if to teach her the consequences of acting against him, his powerful hands immediately grabbed at the fabric of her dress, pulling downwards with terrifyingly sturdy strength. He would pull until the sound of fabric ripping was interlaced between his deepened grunts, until her dress and brassiere were both torn from her upper body, her chest bared and on full display.

"Perhaps we can still make an honest woman out of you." ​

 

[Passion]

With his hand wrapped firmly around her throat, it wasn't fear she felt, but her attraction continuing to bloom. Theia had gone through many taxing situations in her life, and so it often took volumes to speak to her beyond her walls. In this case, a handsome and powerful man dictating her very breath while she tried to protect her critical truth got to her. It was an experience unlike one she ever faced, as she became more of an enemy to herself than the man before her.

His hand below found its way behind the fabric of her dress, and her eyes widened as he located the damp fabric between her thighs. Upon touch, she realized how much her body was willing to betray her. She had no idea just how much of a physical reaction he managed to get out of her. Such a simple touch sent sparks going off throughout her. Her own vulnerability used against her since it left her senses amplified. A weakened whimper slipped from her trembling lips when he mentioned her enjoyment. It didn't make sense from a logical point of view; she shouldn't be getting excited over being threatened, pinned, and held by her throat by the man she was fated to work against, and yet... There she was, her body burning for the prince.

Theia had been with other men, but it was fleeting and rare. She played many roles and used a variety of tactics to deal with targets. She learned early on that she could use her femininity as a weapon against the foolish, but whenever she was touched by others, she remained empty and numb, like she was trained to be as she quietly acted out her expected role. This time, it was much different. Theia was nearly floored even by precarious touches and his general closeness. There was something about his skills, the way he jumped in to protect her, and the way he carried himself... He left her mesmerized.

With a further squeeze of her neck, a wave of instinctive panic hit her since not even a shallow breath could be drawn without his will. He would surely feel her pounding pulse within his grasp when she realized she had exhaled her last breath. Even so, the knight wouldn't be breathless for long, but in return for the ability to breathe once more, she lost the touch that threatened to set fires in her as he released her.

With a gasp to make up for lost oxygen, she watched the prince taste the sweetness he discovered between her thighs. Her face turned a deep shade of red knowing that a royal had just indulged in her most intimate essence. She didn't know what to say, what to think! There was nothing in her training, personal experience, or her role of Thelia that she could use to help process and react to the moment.

Luckily, or perhaps, not so lucky, the prince decided her next course of action while she was in a state of shocked awe. With the call of the guards, Theia had no choice but to follow through. She did not resist beyond a stumbling step towards him after her arms were grabbed. "Wait...!" That instinctive pull she felt towards him overpowered her reason to escape him. There was a need for him forming in her. A need for some kind of closure as a spy, as a woman, and as a soul lost in limbo... A need that only he could provide. However, her outcry was cut short, and she was then yanked away from him and taken back to his personal chambers.

----​

At first, she stood there and stared at the door for about twenty minutes. She wrongfully assumed he would be quickly following after. Instead, she was met with silence. Did he go back to the ballroom without her? Possibly. What if he finds another woman and makes her feel like I did? I should be hoping he finds another so he leaves me alone! The debate was maddening, and it would only get worse with time.

If anything, at least for her mission, it was a blessing she was left alone. She didn't know how to handle all the yearning that got in the way of her clarity. At least with time, she was allowed to calm her body and get her head back on straight. Well, as straight as she could. She couldn't easily brush away the intimately dangerous moment they shared that she would probably forever remember already as is. Either way, she had to plan now since there was a clear pattern; she could hardly think when his focus was on her. It had to be done while he was away. Just one fierce look in her eyes and he could make her false reality and self tremble. As a spy, her strange attraction to such power would surely be her downfall.

As time went on, she remained unsure of how long she would be caged in his room. She spent a fair amount of time pacing around, subconsciously feeding on the lingering presence of him that marked his room. She thought out many scenarios in her head, but all she found was intruding and obsessive thoughts of him that only favored the passion-self that she kept locked up, and dead ends where she couldn't predict him nor her own reactions towards him. Her mental process was quickly turning into a tangled mess that she could hardly navigate through. It made her terribly nervous and intimidated even without him near.

Eventually, she took a seat on the chair where she once sat to protect his unconscious body for days. She even had the chance to note his breathing patterns as he slept there soundly. He was rarely out of her sight. Her fingertips grazed against the edge of his blanket while she reflected back. Theia rolled her head back to look at the ceiling as if she could see a sea of stars. She mumbled to herself, "why doesn't he trust me? It would be so much easier if he did." Her eyes closed as she considered. Sure, she was a spy, but she hadn't done anything to him. She hadn't got caught snooping, sabotaging, or taking part in anything ill-willed. Instead, she risked her life trying to help defend him, she sat at his bedside for days on end when he was unable to protect himself, and graciously took his offer to be his date, and yet...

'I will fucking break you.' ​

Her eyes flashed open, and her heart skipped a beat. Fuck.

Despite all the chaos and uncertainty going on within her, there were two clear conclusions that she came to in her time alone. This couldn't happen again, and this couldn't continue. The thought alone gave her a heavy heart. That craving desire to experience him once more could not be entirely snuffed out. So much so, that at one point, she savored the ghost of him by brushing her fingertips along the lips he had kissed and down the neck that he once claimed with his hand.

'She belongs to me.'​

No. She couldn't be his beyond his own perception that she attempted to paint with lies and misguidance. She had to make sure of it.

----​

A sound... She knew those footsteps. She made sure to study every aspect of him since she arrived, and that included the sound of his very steps. She watched the door slowly open, and her breath halted when she saw his face. As expected, her mind started to go haywire. As soon as he entered, she stood up. If it was out of duty, desire, or respect was unknown even to Theia at that point. The air once again felt thick in his presence. She sliced through the tension with her sweet voice, "Did you go back to the banquet, Your Highness? If you did, I hope you enjoyed yourself." She pretended that being locked away until odd hours of the night was completely normal or fine. She wanted out of this as smoothly as possible, but she was unsure if she could keep her cool demeanor too much without drawing more questions.

He ordered her near, and she headed over while aware that she could be walking right into a wolf's den. As soon as he grabbed her, she knew she needed to find the personal strength and stick to it. With him towering behind her, she looked at the reflection of the pair in the mirror, but she avoided looking at his and her own face, and instead, she stared at the center of her dress. His words resonated within her, but she found her voice. "I don't want to go against you in any way, my prince but I-I...-" She was cut off when his hand possessively sunk into her perky and soft chest. She felt the roar of the fire within her again awakening, and her body tensed from the overall roughness. It wasn't just the physical touched that got to her at that moment, but it was the way he grabbed her like he desired her and owned her.

With a sharp tug of her dress, the fabric gives into his strength and tears. A gasp emits from the woman who was both surprised by his force and her exposure. The air brushed against her skin and soft pink centers, while her face turned a shade of sinful red. She knew it was now or never. With a deep inhale, she tapped into her agility to spun around to face him head-on. "I understand, my Prince, but while I don't mean any disrespect, I'm uncomfortable with this and what already happened." She embraced her stolen identity to help give her a noble spark and channeled the frustration of how difficult he was making her mission. "Let me prove myself to you with the blade of my sword as I'm meant to. I've been a respectful knight since I arrived, and yet you doubt me, threaten me, embarrass me, and... touch me. I've done nothing but done my best to serve you as your loyal guard!"

She placed her hands on his chest and lightly pushed at his sturdy frame. It was more of a gesture than an attempt. She knew better than to act too aggressively, but the knight was trying to politely demand her personal space back. She wouldn't willingly subject herself to that daze again. She couldn't risk her mind threatening to turn off to anything but him, and additionally, all the feelings he gave to her were far too foreign for her to dive into. It was far too dangerous now to play along to simply appease him.

"Please, let me return to my room for the night. You can rest, and I'm sure if you request it, someone will fetch you a fine woman for your entertainment if that is your desire." But I want him to myself! It isn't about what I want! I must protect Luron! She did her best to dismiss her personal thoughts, although a war raged on loudly in her head.

Did she really think he would listen to her? She wasn't quite sure. She had seen hints of both sides of his coin. He could be a mindful gentleman... or a ruthless warrior. What side was she going to get? Her gut knew which one was more likely since he had been rather aggressive, and she was aware he was becoming fixated on figuring her out, but she still hoped for compromise before he poisoned her in a way no other toxin could.

 

[Chevalier]

​

The voracious Prince had been caught in the moment, powerful, coarse hands roaming possessively across his prey's unprotected chest... across Theia's chest. There was something inexplicable about his young bodyguard that caused Tristan to forget himself, as if he had been entranced by the pretty object that was presented before him. Did the truth even matter at this point? As his hands dug into soft flesh, there was a lingering thought in the back of his mind that what he was doing was wrong, that he had no right to touch his bodyguard in such a way. After all, the only proof that he had of Theia's deception was merely circumstantial evidence and his own paranoia, both of which were insufficient to prove that she was against him. But Tristan's intuition had rarely been wrong... and Theia's calmness still raised many red flags within the distrustful Prince.

It was only a matter of time until Theia would defend herself, spinning about within his embrace before pressing her palms against his strong chest. The words that followed shortly afterwards seemed like a gentle attempt to put the Prince back into his place, to remind him that she wasn't his enemy. She appealed to his honor, mentioning once again her duty as his knight, along with her vows to serve him however he saw fit. Luckily, even the Prince was beginning to become convinced of her loyalty towards him. Was he mad? Had he allowed lust and paranoia to cloud his judgement?

What is wrong with me? What am I doing?​

Finally, it seemed as if Theia's words had begun to seep into the Prince's mind, his gentlemanly nature beginning to question his actions. For but a single, transient moment, Tristan thought about allowing Theia to escape him... to leave and find safety within her bedchambers. After all, she had not yet done anything to warrant punishment... to earn his wrath. The Prince took a step backwards, once again returning his bodyguard her much desired personal space to her. But before he could allow Theia to leave, her gentle lips spoke once again, this time inadvertently insulting him. Theia's last comment pricked at his senses, causing his gaze to fall once more into a deepening glare.

"Do I disgust you, Theia?" He asked, the hint of annoyance dribbling between his words, "Do you think of me as a child? Where you can simply put another shiny toy in front of me to distract me?" He hovered closer again, once more depriving Theia of her hard-fought personal space. The beast had been offended, dispelling any notion of the kind nobleman that was usually on display. He was upset, annoyed that Theia would dare suggest that he could be so easily distracted by another woman. The Prince drew alarmingly closer once again, depriving his vulnerable bodyguard of her valued personal space once again. He continued to move closer to her, until she would have no choice but to steps backward to avoid colliding into his strong stature. Further across the room the pair hovered, until Theia would finally find herself backed between the Prince and the side of his bed... which is exactly where the Prince had wanted her all along.

"You haven't been honest with me for even a single moment since you've been here - and now you insult me?" His voice became progressively more venomous, once again finding that deep, masculine tone that would make weaker women tremble in a mixture of fear and absolute delight. The Prince would make it abundantly clear that he didn't want another woman... at this very moment... Tristan wanted her. "You swore an oath to serve me." The Prince's open hand suddenly surged forward, colliding with the side of her shoulder and sending her off balance. Pressing his full weight against her, he pushed his bodyguard off of her feet and forcing her backwards, until she would find her back acquainted with the covers of his bed.

"And so you're going to serve me, whether you like it or not." He growled, leaning in so that his lips could assault her neck. They kissed hungrily at her exposed flesh, starting from her neck before aggressively making their way downwards. It wasn't long until they found themselves hovering over her bared chest, lips forcibly suckling around her pink buttons, tongue swirling over the sensitive centers before his teeth would gently clamp down upon them. He would bite down just enough to cause the little knight to wince, to remind her what he could do to her if she chose to resist him, but not enough to hurt her. At least... not yet.

As his royal lips explored her body, they left a collection of vulgar bruises across her once perfect flesh, staining her chest with a myriad of darkened love-bites. "Theia." Her name emanated from his lips between kisses, his hot breath singeing the flank of her neck hands reaching down to claim her wrists between his strong fingers. They pinned her arms down against the soft duvet beneath them, much in the same manner she had found them pressed up against the wall several hours before. He may have been a Prince, but a lifetime of warfare and adventuring had made his grip surprisingly powerful, spurred by his possessive instincts.

I want her. I want her. The thought resounded within his mind, over and over, beating in his mind with the same tempo of his heartbeat. He wasn't even thinking about Theia's loyalties anymore, only sating his overwhelming desires. "Don't fight it." His hot whispers were as much as a suggestion as they were a threat, subtly reminding the knight that there would be consequences for resisting him.

Eventually, the Prince's hands would fall away from her wrists, diving downwards towards her legs. At the same time, his portrait would retreat backwards, lips finally separating themselves from Theia's chest. As he pulled away, he admired the mess that he had created, the dark marks of ownership that adorned her once perfect flesh... the red bite marks which had punished her for pushing him away... the wavering, shimmering gemstones that looked like they were on the verge of tears. She looked beautiful... and Tristan wanted more of it.

Theia wouldn't be abandoned for long, hands cautiously drifting down below her length before burying themselves beneath her legs. Once they moved underneath her legs, they immediately clenched at her thighs, masculine digits winding tightly around her skin as his hands brutishly captured each of her thighs. The Prince would then hoist her legs upwards, forcing the knight to arch her lower body up in the same direction to accommodate the Prince's uncouth manhandling. Before long, she would find her legs suspended in the air, the back of her head still pressing into the bed as her ankles were holstered high above her assailant's shoulders.

The knight's dress would find itself a victim of gravity, her skirt falling back and downwards as her lower body was angled up towards him, held several inches above his bedside by his strong grip. His hungry, lustful gaze was beaming intensely down upon her now, her intimate undergarments fully displayed and pointing up towards him. "You want me to hurt you, don't you?" The Prince's lips formed into a mischievous grin as they hovered down between her raised legs, "You've been thinking about it every night..." His powerful, mesmerizing gaze refused to break eye-contact, lips navigating ever closer to Theia's needy womanhood. "How you want to be punished..."

"... How you want to be broken."
​

His smirk finally disappeared, hidden underneath her lower frame. But she would still be able to see his dark eyes, staring unwaveringly upon her, watching her in the same way that a hunter watches its prey. He would allow the suspense to linger, waiting for several moments longer before finally parting his lips, allowing his tongue to fork outwards and lap carefully between her legs, rolling lewdly over her silken panties: the last vestige of protection that separated Theia between the Prince and utter depravity. Once again, his senses were introduced to the sweetness of her arousal, impelling the Prince to fall further into uncontrollable lust. The knight would feel the hands upon her thighs tighten, fingers clawing into her unprotected flesh as his tongue began to tease her. His tongue rolled slowly over the fabric, coating the surface with his uncomfortably hot saliva.

The taste was intoxicating, the Prince barely able to keep himself from losing himself to the endless throes of lust right then and there. His gaze became hungrier with each passing moment, until one of his hands slowly reached upwards so that it could push her panties to the side. But rather than simply moving them out of his way, the Prince's fingers hooked itself upon the vulnerable fabric before pulling them backwards suddenly. In such a raw display of power, her underwear was torn from her legs, discarded like trash to the floor before he hastily brought his lips back down upon her. But as his lips moved closer towards her, hovering just above her needy entrance, he paused, forcing his former date to wait in sweltering anticipation.

"Are you afraid, my little knight?"​

​

 

[Passion]

"Excuse me?" Disgust was a strong word, and she only was trying to retain her modesty. As he further questioned her, she rapidly shook her head from side to side. "No, that wasn't what I was implying!" He had twisted her words, but it often was a theme the pair took part in. She could tell he was displeased by his demeanor, so much so that she felt intimated enough to take a step back. She wondered if there was any use in trying to explain herself. "As you dared to tear at my beautiful dress, it is not foolish of me to assume you are a man with desires while there are plenty of women who would love to serve you in such... Personal ways." the thought alone made her metaphysical walls tremble. As he neared, her golden eyes narrow on his face as she considered what she just told him. She slipped, "I saw the way you looked at your handmaiden!" Oops. Her eyes cast down for a moment from the leaked expression of her previous envy.

He kept walking towards her, and Theia kept stepping back to try to avoid his touch and his very presence. She saw him as more dangerous than a group of men with swords. She couldn't let herself be profoundly swayed by him. Much like the night at the camp, she found herself backed up against furniture. The memories of their short yet intense time together raced through her head; he had cornered her yet again. Her heart pounded for him as she was forced back onto the bed by his towering and hungry form.

"I'm being honest, and I'm not insulting you! If you would just listen to me-...!" She was cut off by the realization of the position she found herself in. Her instincts surged to the point she squirmed underneath him and took a few heavy breaths in anticipation. Having the one she was attracted to in a way she had never experienced on top of her had her soaring. Am I dreaming? Wake up! Stay grounded, idiot! She couldn't embrace her cravings, so she put herself through her own conflicting turmoil. "St-stop it!" She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed in an attempt to try to pry his greedy lips from her sensitive neck. "I'm meant to serve you as a knight! This is not part of a knight's duty! I'm also still a Lady!" It was a terrible time to play ranks, but at the same time, she wasn't a peasant, known traitor, nor whore.

Her declarations would be proven worthless as his mouth continued to explore her. As his lips trailed down to her bare chest, she started to squirm with more vigor all while her face was veiled in a deep shade of flustered red. Again, her sweet voice begged him, "Please, my prince, I only just kissed you tonight! This is improper!" Her pleading was cut off by the tension as he caught one of her centers in his teeth. Her eyes widened, and she froze up while knowing at that very moment, she was at his mercy.

When Theia first accepted her mission, she knew that she had to appease the prince and any royal she met. She was quite good at going at the flow and doing what was expected of her. If he was like the others, she would have soullessly given herself up as an actress. Allowing it all to only reach the false role that she could wash away once her mission was complete. While cold-hearted and diluted, it was a useful skill given her profession. Such a mentality also protected her real self from everything from horrors to confusion, but even having him near risked breaching beyond what she allowed others to touch; Even on days when she wasn't tied to duty, what she disallowed even herself to tap into. It was increasingly difficult to keep herself slumbering when he came at her so directly and fiercely.

Her milky skin took on the colors of his aggressive desire for her, leaving her decorated with marks that claimed his knight's flesh. Her pain tolerance was high, but it was weakened by emotion since each time he laid his lips on her, she felt a part of herself threatening to crumble. She found herself in her own state of upset. Her vision blurring with tears as he continued to mark her flesh, and she resisted his beckon for the woman she actually was. With her wrists once again caught by him, she heard him breathe her name. It resonated within her to the point a soft whimper emitted from her. Oh, by the gods, do not say my name like that again.

That crippling haze that he could put her in was surfacing and consuming. It was getting hard to think again, and this continued to frighten the trained spy. She needed to always be one step ahead, but with him, she felt pause and even deterioration. He ordered her not to resist, but he made a mistake; he gave her all that time to think. She held on to the one thing she knew she couldn't forget:

This couldn't happen again. This couldn't continue.​

Did she fear punishment? Yes and no. She didn't want his ire, but she preferred it over being exposed. She knew when she took this mission, she may be forced to die in order to not speak. The idea was that she would be a good enough spy to prevent such an end, but her loyalty to her homeland was most crucial. Even if he wasn't strictly targeting exact information, hindering her like this was far too high-risk.

"Please! I don't want to have to resist you, but I already told you I'm uncomfortable with this!" The knight proved she could be quite stubborn, but in her mind, she had good reason to be. With her legs taken and positioned above her, she attempted to pull her legs free from his hold. While she resisted, she didn't wildly so. She hoped his morals would awaken before he continued. That maybe he would give his knight that had been nothing but gracious up until now some mercy. However, there was no easy slipping away from his possessive hold on her. He pressed on and boldly found his face between her shapely thighs. In shock and with her hands now free, she reached for the side of the bed and used the edge to try to further yank her vulnerable body away from him, but it was hard to free herself from his dictated hold.

No! Not there! Please, not there! Her breathing became heavy and shaken, and she couldn't get herself to look at him between her legs without feeling coy. Even if she diverted her gaze, every word that came from the lips that both made her high and pained her as he had a way of cutting through the noise of her mind. Is he right...? She had been thinking about what he had said for reasons she hadn't quite figured out yet. She finally found the strength to look back at him. "You are mad if you think I'd want you to hurt me!" Her voice raised in clear dismay, "To... Break me! What good is a broken knight?!" Deep down, there was a curiosity to shed herself. She had never experienced a man openly, without any of her painted masks. Her instincts saw it as a chance ever since she started to swell up with admiration for the prince, but she continued to deny and ignore.

With her form-fitting, black undergarments in full display, she knew it was the only protection she had left of her most intimate aspect of her. As his face explores her last veil, her breathing paused for a moment. She could feel his strong tongue prodding against the lips hidden within, each time a hint of the pleasure he could provide her if she only gave in. The fabric was damp in uncontrolled fervor and carried her most sweet feminine scent and the knight knew she couldn't hide that truth from him. Her body would continue to betray her, knowing it was doing so made the whole ordeal even more taxing for the poor woman. Her body desired more, she craved giving in to experience him, but her duty told her to rip away. "N-No!" Her thighs squeezed against the side of his face, counterproductively, locking him in place, although, in actuality, she was trying to conceal what he sought.

When he finally pulled away a few inches, she thought maybe he had awakened some of his sense, but one glance into his eyes spoke volumes. She could see the drive and desire fuming in him for her. He wasn't alone, despite her protests, her flustered face and trembling body could not lie. After taking a peek, without hesitation, he tore off her last layer of physical protection. She cried out in embarrassment and surprise over his aggression. Now, she couldn't stop trembling under him. If it was in fear or thrill, Theia hardly even knew. She was incredibly flustered to have the prince now as close as possible to her sex. He could see everything, he could do anything.

As a Lady, she remained well-groomed, and her pink lips were glistening for him in unwarranted arousal. "Don't look! Please, my prince! Don't!" She could feel his hot breath on her. Part of her so badly wanted him to continue what he started, but she still refused to accept her own lust for him even though it was to the point it pained her to hold back.

One of her hands slipped between the narrow space between her sex and his face as a desperate attempt to conceal what he exposed. She considered his last words. Was she actually afraid? Why couldn't she just get herself to blindly go along with him? Why was she shaking? Why did she feel like she was ready to burst out in tears?! She could have just let him have his way and go back to hiding in the shadows, instead, she was rejecting him and causing even more of a scene which was unlike her. If he broke down her walls, she couldn't predict what would happen. She feared lack of control even if there was a personal freedom to be found in it, but Theia was far too aloof on the subject to understand the benefits.

Returning the favor from earlier, she now was the one to twist his words, "I fear you have gone mad!" Would he pity her? Would he continue? She wasn't sure, but Theia knew that for the most part, her fate was in the palm of his hands.

 

[Chevalier]

​

The Prince waited, dark kaleidoscopes watching as Theia implored him not to look, to avert his gaze away from her bared womanhood. "Tell me, Theia." He began, his uncomfortably hot breath burning against her aroused sex, "Did I look at the handmaiden the same way that I look at you now?" He addressed her outburst from several moments ago with a rhetorical question, one that he already knew the answer to. The way that Tristan gazed hungrily upon Theia was vastly different than how he treated other women. He was cold and introverted, but those that had dealt with him could see the kindness that lurked underneath his scarred shell. Even Theia, in her few weeks in his service, had witnessed his heroism when he carried her from danger. But now, the knight had seen a new side of him, one that his handmaiden, or any other woman would never see: the sadistic, insatiable monster.

The beast reveled in the knight's confusion, listening as Theia attempted to strike down each statement that dribbled seductively from his lips. "I think you need to be given an important lesson tonight," He had expected her to deny his questions, but that didn't stop the Prince from feeling annoyed nonetheless. "... a lesson in honesty." His lips finally hovered downwards, drifting closer to those pink, exposed and unprotected lips that waited in indigent anticipation. Like she had so vehemently requested, the Prince did not look. Instead, his eyes remained concentrated on hers, fixated on the flustered, tear-filled gaze which looked back at him. Perhaps she would come to regret her demand, wishing that his hungry, endless gaze would finally peel away from her own. He stared deep into her shimmering, citrine gemstones, as if the Prince was peering past her irises and deep into her very heart.

Finally, his tongue would slowly emerge from his lips, hidden beneath her lower frame. It would reach forth, before dexterously lapping against her folds. The sweet taste of her arousal invigorated the Prince's senses, causing him to let out a deep growl which reverberated between her legs. He wanted more. The tongue rolled forth once again, running from the bottom of her needy entrance upwards, before the tip of his tongue would teasingly swirl over the sensitive button just above. As much as Theia had vocally rejected him, her body told a much different story, one that was far more honest and eager.

It wouldn't be long until his tongue would find its rhythm, the swelteringly hot appendage devilishly pacing up and down the lips of her exposed sex, swilling up the glistening nectar which trickled desperately. It went without saying that the Prince was more than experienced in such oral stimulations, having done so on more occasions than he himself would care to admit. But there was something different about Theia, one that caused the Prince's tongue to go wild with desire. His tongue moved rapaciously, as if seeking to claim Theia's slick, little hole for himself, as if he was trying to teach her that only he could ever make her feel this way.

Eventually, the vulgar sounds that emanated from beneath her legs mixed with his savage growls, which sounded more animalistic than human with every passing second. His tongue would quicken its pace, mapping out her groomed lips and replacing her sweet arousal with trails of his saliva. But then, when the Prince had become unsatisfied with the outside of her body, his tongue pressed against her pink folds, separating her tight walls ever so slightly so that the tip could enter inside of her. It pressed into her, before curling mischievously upwards, as if it knew exactly where to hit.

"How long will you be able to last, I wonder?" The Prince cooed as he pulled away temporarily so that he could catch his breath. Finally, the Prince's dark gaze turned downwards so that he could admire the mess that he had created. If the myriad of love-bites upon her upper body had not been enough, Theia's lower had been absolutely plastered in saliva, intermixed with her sweet, love juices. She looked fantastic, like she now truly belonged to him.

"I want you to cum for me, Theia." He growled once more, lips once again crashing between her legs. This time, his tongue and mouth attacked more intensely, parting themselves so that they could cover her womanhood completely. They sucked hungrily, tongue thrashing over her more honest, saliva-ridden lips in a ravenous, yet familiar pattern. They rolled over her entrance and over her clit, before once again swirling deep inside of her. All the while, his eyes watched her, as if demanding her to do as she was told. He didn't even need to say it. His intense gaze was more than enough to spell out exactly what he wanted from her. He wanted her to climax, to feel her entire body shudder underneath his grip, to experience her walls convulse and clamp down desperately upon his tongue.

And he wouldn't stop until he had what he wanted.
​

Tristan would accelerate his movements when he felt as if the knight had reached the point of no return, pausing with his tongue deep inside of her when he finally felt her finish for him. He would eventually pull himself away, so that she would be able to see that damned grin which was curled firmly over his now messy face. Without saying a word, the Prince would release his grip on the knight, allowing her legs to fall from his shoulders before turning towards his coat hanger.

"Tomorrow, you're going to accompany me into the city." He didn't give Theia much of a choice in the matter, but what was probably more annoying, was that he had changed the subject entirely, as if Tristan hadn't just violated her in such a detestable and uncouth manner. Upon returning from his coat hanger, Tristan would have his signature, black jacket in his hands. "I'll see you tomorrow." Without warning, he would toss the jacket towards his bodyguard, so that it fell suddenly into her lap. At the very least, she would not be made to walk back to her room with her chest bared.

"Don't worry. We'll be sure to find you another dress."

​

The next day came rather quickly, the darkness once more eroded by the sun's warm light. It was the late morning by the time the Prince had been bathed and properly dressed for the day, navigating down the hallways towards Theia's room. Deep down, there was the slight pang of regret that welled deep within him, his gentlemanly nature contending with his horrible actions the night before. He knew that he had lost control of himself, a fact which he dared not admit, for admitting to such a thing would be to show weakness. In the Empire, weakness was not something that he could so easily afford.

When the Prince would find himself in front of Theia's room, he would tap twice upon it, before finally speaking. "I am leaving soon. If you plan to accompany me, then meet me at the Palace entrance within the hour." He wouldn't dawdle around for long, disappearing from her doorway so that he could make his way outside of the palace and into the large courtyard where his royal carriage was waiting. The royal carriage was draped in Imperial colors, adorned with the crest of the royal, Elysia family. It was towed by two, ebony-haired stallions, with a carriage driver sitting at the top.

"Greetings, my Prince." One of the armored guards bowed respectfully, before straightening himself so that he could hold open the carriage door for the Prince, "Is it just you today? Where is your bodyguard?"

"I believe she feels unwell. I told her that she could stay, if she desired." The Prince frowned, "I think the celebrations might have been a bit too much for her." He had planned to ask the soldier to organize for a new bodyguard to accompany him for the day, until he noticed a familiar face finally emerge out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, well. Looks like you showed up, after all."​

 

[Passion]

It was futile. He appeared to be the type that once his mind was made up, there was no turning back. She had tried to resist physically and verbally, but it didn't seem to matter. She called upon his morality that refused to surface. As he leaned in further between her thigh, she knew she was going to have to accept what was to come.

A fluttering sensation of pleasure was felt as soon as his tongue grazed against her. Her toes attempt to curl in the heels she managed to keep on her. She attempted once more to free herself with her soft but now weakened voice, "Please..." It wouldn't matter, his tongue continued to explore her, and her eyes dilated as his muscle went up towards the most sensitive aspect of her body. Her breathing quickly turned heavy once more as her body was getting hints of what it truly wanted. Was this actually happening?!

He kept going, finding his own pace against her. With each round of his strong tongue on her, the more she felt the fever of lust and pleasure getting to her. Her body stopped resisting since there was an innate curiosity and need in her that outweighed her stubborn will. She still struggled to look at the prince between her legs. He could keep his eye on her, but rarely did she make eye contact back. However, he would see in full display her face reddened in desire, and her lips parted where a pattern of hot breaths escaping her mixed with soft sounds she tried to muffle. It felt good... Possibly too good. With her adrenaline already spiked from her struggle, the combination of the tension and pure pleasure left her in chaotic awe.

There was only so much she could hold back, and it was clear by how her fingers clawed at the blanket underneath her. Eventually, her body tried to twist again, but this time, not out of resistance. She could hardly hold still while being subjected to the craved direct stimulation. Theia didn't have many sexual desires that she knew of. While many explored their bodies with others or on their own accord, Theia did not connect with any of that. To her, her sex was only a passive weapon or a means to possibly reproduce. Instead, the prince was showing her it was more than just that in the right situation and right person. In the perfection combination, it was like a drug.

Her eyes dilated and a loud whimper escaped her as his tongue found its way inside of her vulnerable warmth. That is when she pulled at her legs again in an attempt for freedom, but it was out of her embarrassment. His tongue is in... there?! She felt increasingly violated, but the more he pushed her, the better it all felt. It was puzzling, but all felt so heavenly.

What do I do?! I'm losing control! I can't think-... Give in. Maybe a little...

Unaware, Theia didn't know that there wasn't a little in a situation like this. She was standing on a cliff's edge, and he was pushing her towards that edge. Once she started falling...- Well, at least the war within her hit a compromise. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling blankly. She had disassociated from the moment completely. Her pleasure and reactions all stopped, but it would only be for a few seconds as all the pieces were falling into place. Finally, with a sudden gasping moan, she came alive.

It was subtle on a superficial level, but yet something obvious shifted in her. It would be one of those things that most couldn't put their finger on, but now she was able to directly look at him with his face buried in her without hesitation. The gold in her eyes was once again glazed over in the same way they had when he saved her and kissed her. It was the kind of look that begged him to do whatever it took to break her and set her free. To give her a taste of all the unknowns.

An unfiltered cry of pleasure pours from her for him. Between her sounds of revel, as he found the perfect spot within her, which he forced her to confess, "Fe-feels sooo g-good! Do-don't st-op!" The pleasure now engrossing her wholly after her acceptance. Shedding a layer of herself allowed her to get closer to him and find her own enjoyment in the forced act. She jerked back into the bed, arching her head enough to indent the mattress below. She didn't hide her heavy breathes or debauched sounds. "Ahhh!~ I feel so... hot!" As the seconds went by, her body's temperature kept rising.

When he pulled away for a brief moment to question her, and even though it was mere seconds, it impacted her when she was forced to lay there while her body now desperate enough to wither under him. It was so bad that if his mouth wasn't quick enough to find her again, she may have even started to plea. She had no idea how long she could last with him in the act, but even in the short time that had already played out, he had been sure left his mark on her with salvia, colored marks, and blossoming her lust. He had compromised her, so much so, the woman who once fought against him cried out for him, "I want to cum for you! No, I need to!" Her eyes closed as the tears that were welled up in her eyes finally gave way and rolled down the side of her face. This all shouldn't be this critical, but her tears weren't in upset nor pain, but she felt moved to experience such a height while being free of the role as 'Theia' or any other past role. If anything, she was the one going mad.

Her high pitched moans echoed throughout his room when he targeted the bud between her lower lips. Her hands now found her face, her palms sliding against her cheeks as she battled to contain and process it all. She needed his firm grip on her, or she would have surely wiggled away as the pleasure he gave her sent her wild. However, he was there to make sure she wouldn't escape and instead kept submerging her into utter bliss.

Within, the core of her womanhood started to burn, and she was wise enough to know she was on the verge of her climax. Then, for the first time since she entered his room, she obeyed him in the form of a screaming moan, and her entire body tensing so hard to the point she vibrated in his hands for a second or two. It all hit her like a crashing wave, and she then released all the pleasure he stirred in her. Her sweet fluids greet the mouth that pleased her with exceptional skill while Theia's eyes rolled back. It felt like total ecstasy for the woman. A feeling she didn't even know she could experience, but in the crash, she found an empty stillness.

He dropped her on the bed, and she felt like she fell at least fifty feet due to the perceptual altering haze he put her in. She laid there on his bed, panting, with her sex slightly throbbing in overstimulation. Holy crap.

His words sounded distant but yet remained clear as he casually talked about the next day. She placed a hand on her forehead while still enraptured in the afterglow, far too caught up in shock to focus on how odd his change was or to really comprehend him. She could hardly think about tomorrow after what had just happened, and her own reactions to it all. Despite her fog, her admiration for the prince continued to grow. Just the lingering thought of the positives made her heart sigh in glee, but for now, she needed to wake up. What had taken place was improper for her role and he managed to reach her too deeply.

Finding enough sense to sit up, her once sleek ponytail was riddled with flyaways. Grabbing at the jacket thrown on her lap, she wrapped it around her upper half. She stood up from the bed, and without a single word, without even a simple and respectful goodbye, Theia left and went straight to her room. She had nothing to say to him, she didn't even know what to say to herself.

----​

It was a long and near sleepless night for Theia. She was haunted by what had happened. She couldn't get the look of his eyes out of her mind, the pleasure he gave her, or how she ended up losing control for the sake of desire. Every time she got a glimpse of one of the marks he left on her body, she could almost feel him again. Everything reminded her of him. At times, she had to stop herself from daydreaming what else he could have done to her. What else he could have brought out of her.

if only she could turn off her mind to stop thinking about him! I hate him for what he has done! But I want to kiss him again. The knight muffled a groan of anger into her pillow. It wasn't going to stop.

Part of her wanted to be pushed more. She wanted to know what else she could experience that could feel so real, but she knew the Whispers would curse her for chasing personal pleasure, especially on such a high stakes mission. On top of that, she was taught against having a true sense of self, yet with the prince, for some reason she found herself wanting to bend the rules.

She had failed on her smaller mission to prevent all this. She knew it would cause her inner turmoil, but to the extent was unknown. There was an urge throughout the night to slip her hand under her blankets to try to recreate what he had done to her, but she held back on it. She already knew she couldn't make herself feel like how he did and it would only make matters worse if she touched herself to the thought of him.

----​

When dawn came around, she was half asleep when there was a knock at her door. Hearing his familiar voice almost instantly sent her into a panic. Was he going to burst in? Was he going to kick her out of the palace for once denying him? Did he somehow figure out she was from Luron?! When she actually took a moment to understand what he spoke, she was reminded of what he said before she left. Usually, a rather ambitious woman instead sighed heavily. She could feel the weight of a restless night of sleep on her and also the dread knowing she had to face the man who rendered her helpless, lustful, and exposed. However, there was something else that gave her the butterflies. She felt giddy about seeing his handsome face again and to be near that formidable aura of his!~ He left both of her conflicting sides fueled, but the show must go on.

Dressed in her light armor, washed up, and with hair loose and braided, Theia briskly made her way to the palace entrance while cloaked in her stern knightly presence. She appeared usual, other than with a bit of tiredness on her face that she hoped no one would notice. She buried the memories of the night before and her excitement as well as bitterness to see him once more, and instead aligned herself with duty, but how deep was it buried? Underneath it all, she was a scattered mess, but she knew if she focused strictly on her responsibilities she could stay grounded.

"Of course, I'd show up. After all, I'm your knight." Being a few minutes late, she did take a moment to bow her head in respect. "But I apologize for making you wait, Your Highness." Her voice was flat compared to the night before; the woman he had unlocked was nowhere to be found beyond the physical. She straightened her back and looked up at him. "I'm ready to accompany you." Once as his date, and now once again as his guard.

She broke eye contact to face the door. "Where are we heading to today?" She added while in passive thought, "I haven't gotten to see much of the city since I arrived." Honestly, the most she saw was the day she rode in and when they traveled out to battle. Other than that, she stayed inside the palace beside him.

 

[Chevalier]

​

Upon seeing his knight return to him, he had wholeheartedly expected a dizzying slap to the face, or at the very least, a proper scorning. But to Tristan's surprise, Theia would commit to neither, instead returning to her proper, ladylike self. It was almost as if the night before hadn't happened, how he had so crudely pinned her to the bed and forced her to spread her legs so that his tongue could ravage her... how her usual proud, noble voice was made to desperately mewl and plead like her mind had been completely shattered. He was almost impressed by her transformation, though he wondered if she was merely too embarrassed to remind him of it. "I'm quite glad that our conversation last night had reminded you of such." An arrogant smirk creased the boy's lips, wasting no opportunity to tease the poor knight. "It would be rather tragic for my knight to forget who she belongs to."

The Prince would step up into the carriage, settling himself into one of the seats before attempting to answer Theia's question. "There's a tournament today that is being held in the grand square. My father expects my brothers and I to attend." He would pause, awaiting Theia to follow him into the carriage before the door would be shut behind her. "I'm not sure how well-versed you are in politics, but there is a rather small kingdom to the far east known as the Kingdom of Luron." As the Prince spoke, he turned his gaze away from Theia, glancing out of the carriage through a nearby slit. It wasn't long until the carriage had begun moving, trailing down the road that connected the Palace to the city below. "Our relationship with Luron has been quite strained. So the Imperial Senate has advised my father to host games in their honor."

With his eyes pointed outside of the carriage, the Prince would conveniently miss whatever reactions would claim his knight's face, giving her ample time to compose herself before his dark gemstones finally reached back towards her. "I've never been one for games, I'm afraid. But I've heard they're quite popular in Luron." He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He spoke little more on the matter, waiting patiently as the carriage brought the pair towards their destination. As they moved away from the palace and into the city, Theia would be able to see the architectural marvel that was the city of Aurelia. It was fitting for a capital city, a massive urban sprawl that made up the beating heart of the Empire. Tall, spacious homes beset with marble columns and clean, paved roads which mapped out the surface streets. Even to a foreign observer, it would be quite apparent that the Empire's citizens lived rather luxurious lifestyles, having built such grand buildings. Even as they left the wealthier neighborhoods and passed those that seemed more impoverished, there was a stunning lack of the starving or homeless. At the very least, the Empire hid such signs of poverty well.

"I will be expected to rule all of this one day." He mused to himself, "Should I outlive my father, of course." He tapped upon his seat as he corrected himself. It was an important distinction, for Imperial Princes tended to not last very long. If Tristan did not fall in battle, then there were the many nobles that plotted against him... and if they did not manage to end his life, then the Prince had many, envious half-brothers that would commit unspeakable acts to wear his rightful crown. "I must say, it's not a position that I look forward to." The Prince confessed, "There are only two types of people that would wish to become Emperor... tyrants... and fools." His lips curled downwards into a frown, "But my brothers. They have an insatiable lust for power. I fear that if any of them were to take my place, they would enjoy seeing the world burn." Indeed, even if Tristan were to step aside and allow one of his brothers to take the throne, he knew well that they would have him executed. They would never allow a threat to their power continue to exist.

The Prince's focus would eventually place themselves back upon his knight, listening to what she had to say in the matter. He would heed her words well, but no matter what she said, the Prince still couldn't shake the feelings of dishonesty that still lingered between the knight's lips. "Theia." The Prince suddenly sat up from his seat, hovering across the moving carriage so that he could move towards her. He would draw uncomfortably close once again, before sitting himself down next to her. He would watch her carefully, his portrait once again drifting dangerously close to her own. It was almost as if the Prince had no regard for personal space, once again freely encroaching upon his bodyguard's like she belonged to him. "Are you-" For the first time since they had met, the Prince showed uncertainty in his words, his voice hitching as he searched for what to say.

"Are you upset with me?" The Prince said finally, his lips edging slowly towards his knight, until they were mere inches away from Theia's. Although his eyes and voice displayed the slight pang of regret within them, his actions told a different story. It was almost as if he was teasing her, trying to draw out a reaction from his often emotionless knight. The night before had been the first time that Theia had truly been honest with him, how her body and voice embraced him completely and utterly. But as much as he wanted to see that side of her emerge once again, there was still some guilt to what he had done. He had held her down, forced her against her will. Perhaps, Tristan really was no better than his brothers.

Theia wouldn't have the opportunity to answer, whatever words that were about to leave her throat were spontaneously cut off by the sudden halt of the carriage. The door would swing outwards, the bright rays from outside peering inwards, temporarily blinding their senses until their vision could readjust to the light. Outside of the carriage stood an armored guard, clad in dark, Imperial armor and bearing the household colors of red and gold upon his breastplate. "Welcome, my Prince. The opening ceremonies have already concluded, but the games will begin shortly."

A smirk would form across Tristan's lips, his powerful gaze still locked upon Theia before finally pulling away. "Thank you. I'm sure my presence was not sorely missed." He remarked, stepping away from his bodyguard and towards the entrance of the carriage. He would lead Theia from their horse-drawn transportation, before the pair were shown to their seats in the nearby stands overlooking the tournament grounds. The event was certainly crowded, with thousands of nobles from various kingdoms massed in the stands that circled the arena. The stands that held the audience was vast enough that one could barely make out those that sat upon the other side, though colored tents and flags made it clear which sections belonged to which Kingdoms.

"This way, my Prince." Theia and Tristan would find themselves being escorted by several guards to their own seats, which was shaded by a crimson tent and decorated with the Imperial flag. It sat in the front row, raised several feet from the ground so that they would be able to see everything that was happening below. Tristan would take his own seat, before beckoning Theia to be seated beside him.

"You don't need to stand. I had this seat prepared for you." He would wait for Theia to seat herself, his eyes directing themselves down towards the arena below. Beneath them, two knights on horseback stood on opposing sides, with a small fence that separated them. "Are you familiar with jousting? It's a sport that once originated in Luron. But it's become quite popular as of late." The Prince explained, "I'm sure you've seen it in Vrey."

As the Prince sat in his seat, the guard beside him leaned closer towards him, "Do you see that man? That's Prince Olivier of Luron, first son of King Jarin. He's the favorite to win this tournament." Almost on cue, the knight below moved forward, clad in a set of glistening plate armor and wearing the colors of his kingdom. As his horse trotted to the starting line, an ear-shattering cheer broke out from among the audience, loud enough to cause their very seats to reverberate. "He's become quite famous, having represented his kingdom in tournaments across the realm. Many nobles have come just to watch him compete."

"Such an impressive applause for a Prince from such a small kingdom." The Prince remarked, placing his elbow into the armrest of his chair and leaning the side of his face against it, "It must be fun playing the part of a knight in tournaments." A faint smile creased the Prince's lips, "All of the glory and recognition of battle... without any of the horror or danger." The Prince had not intended to insult the foreign prince. He was simply envious of his position, able to enjoy all of the fine parts of life without ever having to place his life at risk. If only things could be so simple...

There was quite the opposite reaction for the other knight, who wore the distinct, ebony armor of the Aurelian Empire. As he rode forward to take up his position, some members of the crowd could be heard booing, even shouting profanities down at the Prince of Luron's competitor. "Guess we know where everyone's money is." Tristan remarked, watching as the two knights raised their colored lances to signal the beginning of the match. The loud shrill of a blowing horn started the game, with both horses taking off in a sprint towards one another. As they drew closer, lances were positioned, the knights bracing for impact at the last moment. Unsurprisingly, the Prince of Luron would win the day, his lance striking the other knight off of his horse and sending him tumbling down into the ground.

So the games had begun.
​

Many more matches would be played out between the dozens of knights attending the tournament, each one hoping to defeat their opponent and advance so that they could have a chance at taking on the Prince of Luron themselves. But no matter how skilled they were, each knight that faced Prince Olivier ended up like the first, utterly defeated and humiliated. It wouldn't be long until the Prince was the only one left standing, having defeated all of the remaining opponents in the tournament. "Prince Olivier has claimed victory in this tournament for the Kingdom of Luron!" An announcer would shout from below, "Before we proceed with the awards ceremonies, I have been informed of a cultural tradition in Luron. In the far east Kingdom, the victor of a tournament is to be given a crown of flowers, one that he may bestow upon a lady of his choosing!"

Several squires moved towards the Prince, where he promptly lowered his lance so that the men could place the ring of flowers upon its tip. Then, with a great display of technical skill, he rode towards the crowd, skillfully balancing the flowers upon the very end of his jousting spear. "It is said that the woman the victorious knight awards the flowers to is to be recognized as the finest lady in the realm." As the Prince moved closer to the crowd, hundreds of noblewomen began to rush down to the edge of the stands, reaching out as they fought viciously for such an honor. But rather than simply tossing the flowers into the crowd as one would expect, the Prince rode across the edge, until he would pause just in front of Prince Tristan.

"My Lady, if I may. I saw you in the crowd and have been unable to shake your beauty from my mind." The Prince of Luron raised his lance, so that it reached up over the arena walls. It stopped just in front of Theia, the ring of flowers draped close enough for her to reach. "Your loveliness is wasted upon this ugly city. You remind me of home... of Luron." He raised his visor, so that his charming shades of blue could peer up towards Theia. "Please, accept these flowers. I dedicate my victory to you, the most beautiful maiden in the realm."

Such arrogance. Prince Tristan could feel his cheeks immediately redden in anger, heat rising in his chest as he watched the Prince of Luron insult him so candidly. Theia belonged to him, not this make-pretend knight from a Kingdom nobody gave two shits about. For Prince Olivier to make such an aggressive move on the woman sitting beside him drove Tristan wild with intense, passionate emotions. He had never hated someone so quickly, to instantly wish to drive a blade through the man's throat. No, Tristan would not sit by and be made a fool of. Theia was his possession... and he wouldn't give her up so easily.

Tristan would stand from his seat, grabbing the wreath of flowers and tearing them forcefully out of Theia's reach. Almost as soon as he did it, the gasping of the crowd reinforced just how taboo Tristan's actions were. "Fuck. You." The Prince growled, tossing the circlet of flowers down so that they would smack the Prince of Luron in the face, glancing off of his helmet and falling to the ground. "She's mine."

"Are you mad?! Do you even know who I am?!" Prince Olivier shouted from below, "How dare you insult the traditions of my Kingdom!" He pointed his lance towards Tristan in an accusatory manner, as if warning him to back down.

"Who you are? You're just a spoiled brat who fancies himself a knight. Tell me, Prince, did Daddy buy your armor for you?" Tristan retorted, nonchalantly slapping the tip of the lance away from his face so that he could lean over the railing. "Now fuck off, before I come down there and drag you from that horse myself, you arrogant prick."

"My Prince! Please calm-" The soldier's words were doomed to fall upon deaf ears.

"Uncouth. Uncultured. Barbarian." Olivier growled back, "I would like to see you try, you inbred, worthless, Imperial dog. I beg you, please come down here, so that I may put you in your place and teach you just how pathetic of a man you are."

"You! Fetch me my armor and a lance." Tristan pointed towards the nearest soldier, who immediately scurried off at the Prince's command. "I'm going to pummel this kid into the ground."

 

[Passion]

Getting into the carriage with him, she smoothed out her skirt in mild unease. He had just stated his claim to her again, and now she was left sitting close to the prince. Her reaction was subtle, but she already knew the pattern of when he was close, then everything became shaky. However, that was nothing compared to the heart-dropping news that her secret beloved Kingdom found their way to the city. What the hell were her King and Queen thinking? Why would they push now to open relations between the empire? Did the Whispers advise this? Did they want to play nice to further infiltrate? Did her father approve of this?! Her exhausted and busy mind raced, but each question she thought up drew a blank.

"I've heard about the Kingdom of Luron, and despite having a pretty quiet and isolated history, it isn't as small as one might think from a glance." It was pretty small compared to the greedy empire, but not small as a stand-alone kingdom. "Luron looks small on many maps since it is narrow, but it stretches far along the coast of the Green Sea to make up for it" For a moment, she oddly felt a bit of homesickness. She rarely did, but the stress of this mission had her missing the refreshing breeze of the Green Sea.

She looked in front of her, well aware that she boldly stated facts about a Kingdom far from even Vrey. She lied before questioned, "I enjoy studying geography, especially in nations far away that I may never see." Excuses like always. "But I'm rather surprised that such an isolated kingdom accepted. Maybe they finally see the empire for its worth." Her last sentence almost made her cringe, but she kept her poker face.

As the carriage made its way down the cobblestone streets, she looked out the window thinking about what her own Kingdom was planning. Usually, she was in the loop, but she became completely cut off after accepting the mission to take the place of Theia. The Whispers, including herself, were usually in the court with the King and Queen planning, especially for a move like this. They rarely did much without the Whispers' approval. However, that wasn't the only thing to concern her. People from Luron could possibly out her. No, the public didn't know much about her. They might have caught her in passing, but it was those from the castle who quietly knew of her. They wouldn't be so idiotic to call her out, right? She was a valuable resource to the kingdom after all, especially when one day her father would eventually perish.

Her worries took a back seat as she took in the sights of the city. She was trained to be observant enough to see the signs of poverty, but the stunning architect spoke a different story. As she looked out the window, she considered what he said. "Not all rulers are tyrants or fools." She didn't believe the royal family she served was. Fools at times, but that was why the Whispers were there. "If you become King, as long as you can bear the responsibility, you can rule however you wish. You don't have to follow in your father's footsteps or fall to be as passive as Vrey. You can carve your own path. I'd watch out for friendly faces turned foe if you stray too far from your father's tendencies, though." Finally, she looked back over to him. "As long as you have advisors you trust, you'll never be alone in it all too. As long as you live to see the day, it is your fate to be King, and who are we to deny the fate given to us by the gods?" She didn't blame him for not wanting such power. The title of King was held in such esteem, and yet it was difficult and dangerous. Even so, when she saw that look in his eyes the day they battled, and even the night before, she knew he was a natural-born leader.

"As for your siblings, don't they say that if you want something done right to do it yourself?" As an assassin, she knew this to be true. After all, she was used to others denying her, not the other way around. "The king seems like he is in fairly good health as of now, you may have plenty of time until you need to take the throne. Still, if I were you, I'd start keeping an eye out for your own advisors now, and not of your father's, unless you wish it." As a secret and vital advisor of Luron, she knew of their importance. Falling silent, she felt awkward giving advice and comfort towards the rule she was meant to help cease. There was a chance that if she reported back that Tristan planned to rule differently than his father, the tides could change, but actions spoke louder than words.

Her ears rang when she heard her name in a tone that reminded her of the night before. Looking over to him, there was a soft blush on her face that she couldn't help. It was the most honest expression she had given him since last night. He was getting close again, and just the lack of distance made her skin feel electric. She still couldn't rid herself of the park of her that he could so easily make spark. As he lingered mere inches away, she felt the innate pull towards him again. She didn't want to speak a single word, but for a brief second, she glanced down at his lips. If he was observant enough to catch it, it was an obvious message that she felt some kind of drive to close the gap between their lips. That... hunger. That wasn't all she felt. There was an urge to slap him right across the face for what he had done. It was all bittersweet. He did force himself on her, they both lost a sense of control, and she even carried the marks under her armor to prove it, and yet... she loved it. Before she could speak or act, the carriage arrived at their destination.

----​

Without hesitation, she followed Tristan into the arena full of wonder about who might be there. Once they got to their seats, the knight was a bit surprised she had one of her own. She assumed she would be standing with the rest of the guards. She glanced over to the prince when he spoke of the game. "I've heard of it." She knew quite a bit about it even though she didn't take part in many activities for entertainment. Even still, it was tied to the culture.

Right when Prince Olivier was mentioned to the prince, Theia's eyes locked on his form draped in blue. It was him alright. Quiet she remained as the prince made his comments and the matches took place all while she was lost in her head about the matter at hand. She knew Prince Olivier was sure to win. Luron ruled with charm and beauty over aggression, and being a star in a sport was honored much like being a war hero. It made some sense for Luron to accept such an event. It was a way to charm the masses and still show strength and skill.

The overall winner was determined, and now came the wreath of flowers. She knew of the tradition, and she assumed he would give it to one of the women loud in applause in hopes of being noticed, or he would blindly through the wreath without any real intention, but instead, he rode up near her. Her eyes narrowed on his face when he offered her the wreath. This idiot. Did he not recognize her?! She did not talk to Olivier much other than in passing, but she was often spotted in the castle to meet with the King and Queen while trailing her father and the other Whispers. At the same time, she was the type who rarely spoke unless spoken to when in Luron. She usually was hidden away in a cloak of navy blue, with the only brightness being her long blonde hair that peeked from the veil of her hood. Maybe he couldn't recognize her with her in the open like this and securely in the role of a knight instead of an intimidating spy or advisor. However, that wasn't the biggest problem Theia saw. If it was her own beauty or not that determined why she was chosen, she saw through it, and she was sure Tristan may as well. He just had to target a woman sitting closest to the prince. Luron was trying to use its charm, classic. However, she knew what this really was. It was a power play, and as a Whisper, it infuriated her. It was not the time for it, and she doubted the King would approve. She didn't show her irritation, instead, she stared deep into the eyes of Olivier, trying to send him a message all while she forced a conflicting, cheerful smile on her face, as if she was flattered to be chosen.

Matters got worse, Olivier pushed. His father would not be proud of the insults in this setting. Was this idiot trying to stir tension?! Clearly, but she was gagged by her role as Tristan's knight. She would continue to play along, she reached for the wreath, and right when her fingertips grazed it, Tristan ripped it away. She looked up at Tristan, and she saw that fire that she couldn't get enough of in him burning. There he was away batting away someone who attempted to pursue her in either malice or flirtation. For a moment, that admiration she felt had her envious of him. There she was silenced and a mere fabrication, and he could speak and act so... freely. He boldly claimed her as his again, and for some reason every time he said it, she got that... Feeling.

She couldn't get wrapped up, it was not good for these two to be in any conflict. At that point, Theia stood as well. She was in the position to protect the prince and aggression was escalating, but any violence here would be in extremely poor taste. She wanted to bark at them both to return to peace, but silent she remained. It was not her place to stop either prince. Tristan decided to challenge Olivier, and that is when Theia finally butted in with a shake of her head in disapproval. "But you are still healin-" She cut herself off, he made up his mind as he turned away to command a guard. This wasn't good. He couldn't even get himself to dance yesterday, and now he was challenging one of the best in all the lands at a sport.

When Tristan was distracting to retrieve his equipment, Theia soundlessly and gracefully draped herself over the rail like she was some kind of snake thanks to her skilled flexibility and sense of balance. Her long locks hide her face like a waterfall of yellow as she neared Prince Olivier. It was only but a casual and short moment that she hung there, but there was an intense look in her eyes. The kind of look that threatened to tear one's soul from their vessel. She was abnormal, frightening, special. Her presence shifting to one he might be able to spot simply from how unique it was. Often many had an uneasy feeling when a Whisper was nearby.

Had the king not inform his son of the current mission before he traveled? Possibly, and he simply didn't recognize her, but she needed him to know that a mission was taking place if he knew the details or not. She needed him to have an idea of who she was so he knew she wasn't meant to have attention on her. That she was in a rank that could straight to his father and 'advise' against him in a way that could outweigh fatherly love. This especially true given the fact Olivier started the conflict and his overall behavior was far from polite and strayed away from Luron's known charm. Even if didn't recognize her as 'Blondie', he was close enough to King and Queen and the royal court to know of The Order of Whispers existence, since one day, she might be the one to be whispering in his ear.

She breathed a single word only he could hear and yet it carried such depth, "Whisper." A simple word, yet an order and also a declaration of her truth. She needed him to handle everything regarding her with caution. She then pulled herself back up from the rail with ease and her intensity dissipated like a puff of air, and once again she was Theia again before Tristan had even turned back around. If anyone was to spot her, perhaps she was just checking the state of the torn wreath.

She stepped over to Tristan's side as he readied, and she placed a hand on his shoulder to try to continue what she started. "I won't accept the wreath. It's best to let this one go. I think winning all those matches got to Prince Olivier's head. From what I heard, Luron is usually more respectable than this." It was true in the pattern alone. They didn't like the empire, but instead of expressive ill will, they went with ignoring and avoiding. "You might open your wound if you fall, and this custom is new to you. It will upset me if you get hurt again because of me, my Prince." She frowned in concern both from a position of duty and on a personal level despite what had happened last night. It wasn't just that, but she knew politics more than she could admit; a spat like this could leave a lingering mark.

She looked back at the prince of her home nation with a sigh, yet she spoke to Tristan. "Let me duel him instead. If I'm yours, then it makes no difference who defeats him, right? You can rest, plus..." She paused to him a grin that mirrored one of his from the past as a more sinister realization settled in her mind. "Wouldn't it be even more of a slap on the face if there is a chance he could be defeated by the woman he offered his wreath to?" Not ideal to compete against her own side, nor did she want to be center stage again, but if she was able to knock Olivier off or take a fall for Tristan, it wouldn't be as significant as two direct royals involved. She waited to see if he would allow her to take his place, or to find out it was something he had to take his own stand on due to the personal nature of the quarrel.

 

[Chevalier]

​

As the knight dipped over the railing, the cerulean-eyed Prince that waited upon his horse looked upon the spy with indignance, even before Theia had been able to utter her true allegiance. In that moment, it would be abundantly clear that Prince Olivier had known Theia's true identity all along, that this had simply been a ploy to draw out his rival's ire. "Do not forget who you truly serve, Blondie." He cooed underneath his breath, just loud enough where only she would be able to hear him. "... and who you truly belong to." He added, before spinning his horse about. Leaving the conversation at that, the Prince of Luron would depart to the center of the field, waiting impatiently for the Imperial Prince to meet him in battle. For the time being, it would appear to the spy that appealing to Prince Olivier's responsibilities would prove woefully ineffective.

Likewise, Theia would have even less success in stirring Tristan away from battle, for Prince Tristan had already made up his mind. If there was something that Theia would need to learn quickly, it was that once his mind had been made, there was no convincing the Prince otherwise. Tristan was cunning, but he possessed a hot-blooded, passionate temper that often clouded his usually calculating judgement. It was a weakness, one that even the Prince himself recognized was too easily exploited. But did Tristan care about such thoughts? No. The only thought that danced in his mind was how that bastard rode up to him, daring to make a pass at the woman he already had his eyes set upon.

It seemed that despite Theia's words, Tristan wasn't listening, instead ordering his soldiers to hastily get together a set of armor for him to face the other man with. But if Theia thought that he wasn't paying attention to what he was saying, she would be proven quite wrong. When she would least expect it, the Imperial Prince would reach out, grabbing Theia by the wrist before roughly pulling her towards him. He pulled her off balance, closer to him so that she could look up into his stern gaze, which contained the unbridled embers of determination within them. "Did you think that you could fool me?" He growled, pausing a moment for his venomous words to sink into Theia's heart. Perhaps she would assume that Tristan had discovered her true loyalties, after all, he had shown himself to be quite skilled in prying into the truth thus far.

"I saw the way that you looked at him. You wanted those flowers, didn't you?" The Prince had been truly blinded this time, though despite the anger that raged within his eyes, if she would just gaze a little deeper into his possessive glare... Theia would also be able to see envy... fear... rejection. "You know him, don't you? I can see it in your eyes... you care for him." The hand upon her wrist tightened, his strong grip once more claiming ownership upon her hand. He, like Prince Olivier, also wanted Theia to know who she belonged to, to feel just how upset he was. His other hand reached up towards her neck, but rather than capturing her neck like he normally would, he would gently placed his fingers underneath her chin. He tilted her face slightly upwards, so that he could see the bruised love-bites that were hiding away just beneath her collar. They served as little reminders of what he had done, teasing what the Prince was capable of.

"Pray that I do not return, for your sake." The Prince's voice fell into that deep, primal tone once again, that very voice that should remind Theia of what he had done to her last night. That damned voice that swiftly and vigorously reminded Theia of her womanhood. He would elaborate no further on the subject, stepping away from his knight so that he could disappear down the steps that led to the arena floor. It wouldn't be much longer until Tristan would finally emerge, the thunderous roar of the audience once again reverberating the stands from which they watched from. To them, this was the fight of a lifetime: a renowned, tournament champion from a small, yet illustrious kingdom, squaring off against a war hero, one that was the heir to the most powerful of nations.

"It... it seems that we have another fight on our hands, folks! This was completely unplanned, but it seems Prince Olivier of Luron and Prince Tristan of Aurelia have agreed to face one another in the arena!" The announcer shouted, much to the cheers of the audience. It wasn't immediately obvious who the citizens cheered for. As popular as Prince Tristan was with the people, Prince Olivier was a celebrity, one that had earned fame far and wide. "What a surprise! Who will win? The famed tournament champion, or a greenhorn to the sport?"

"My Lord. With all do respect, do you even know what you're doing?" One of the soldiers who helped prepare Tristan's armor remarked, "You've never practiced for this. Jousting isn't such a simple sport."

"Hit my opponent with the lance. How difficult could it be? I've carried a lance into many battles before." Once he was fully clad in his armor, Tristan would mount his horse, placing his metal boots firmly into the saddle's stirrups.

"You need to break your lance upon his shield to score a point. The first to score three points upon their opponent's shield wins. If you fall from your horse, the game is over." The knight explained, "Do not strike any other part of your opponent. If you hit him outside of the shield, you may be disqualified if the judges rule it as intentional."

Tristan would first slide his helmet over the top of his head before being handed a kite shield and lance. He wielded the shield in his left hand, with the large, wooden lance in his right. Oddly enough, Tristan had very little experience in wielding the shield, finding that the large object was often too cumbersome to carry into battle, though he was quite skilled in fighting with the lance on horseback. "I'm ready."

The two warriors would arrange themselves on opposite ends of the field, much like the other knights that had squared off over the past few hours. This would feel different than the rest of the duels, however. The tension that was brewing within this one was at an all time high, so much so that Tristan was immediately beginning to regret his decision to square off against the Prince of Luron. Not because he was afraid of losing, but rather, afraid of the political consequences to such a heated battle. Finally, as the two princes waited to charge against one another, Tristan had seen past his rage... towards reason. But even if he wanted to back down, it was simply too late.

"Riders, ready?" A man waved a flag to signal the beginning of the joust, "Set... Go!"

Tristan kicked the horse forward, until the beast underneath him had reached a full gallop. Comparatively, the Prince of Aurelia rode his horse in a less sophisticated manner than his opponent, who had drove his horse into an immediate sprint, while the Prince of Luron more skillfully brought the horse from a slower pace before matching his rival's gallop with his own. As the two would close distance, Tristan would lower his lance, aiming for his opponent's shield. Olivier would lower his as well, though, for some reason, the Prince of Luron's lance would be held higher than where Tristan aimed his. To an experienced observer, it was obvious what Olivier was doing, for the Prince of Luron had never intended for this to be a true joust.

By the time Tristan had realized what was happening, there would no opportunity to change course. The Prince of Aurelia would be forced to watch in slow motion as the tip of Olivier's lance was driven straight into his face, smashing against the front of his helmet and sending Tristan flying from his horse. The crowd would collectively gasp as he would fall from his mount, collapsing into the dirt like a broken ragdoll. The thud of the fallen Prince hitting the dirt was louder than any other knight before him, the audience freezing in terror at the very sight of the Prince having taken a full, deliberate strike to the face.

Prince Olivier would toss his broken lance to the ground before stopping his horse, dismounting from his saddle and nonchalantly sauntering over towards his fallen opponent. As he hovered closer towards Tristan, his hand would move to the sword on his waist, "Did you know, in the ancient tradition of my people..." Prince Olivier drew out his sword, the metal clang of steel sliding from its scabbard filling the air. "...that all jousts were fought to the death?" He would step over his rival, before reaching down to grab Tristan by the breastplate. "Perhaps if you squeal, I will allow you to live." Olivier would take his fisted sword-hand, using it to brutally smash against the front of Tristan's visor in a world-shattering crash.

Tristan's vision had been blackened by the first impact, the Prince barely able to regain consciousness before once again feeling the world spinning around him. He could barely make sense of what was happening, his ears ringing from the savage impacts that had disfigured the front of his helmet. Every time it seemed like he would be able to see again, another punch to the face would pull him back into the darkness. By the time Olivier was finished with him, Tristan was left inanimate: a lifeless suit of armor pathetically strewn across the ground. The audience was left to question if Tristan was even still alive, the Imperial Soldiers immediately rushing to their Prince's aid. But they would freeze as Olivier's own knights would stand in their way, drawing out their swords as if to ward them away.

"Pathetic. Let this be a lesson to you, Imperial Mutt. If you ever step foot in Luron, this is what will happen to you." Olivier would spit into Tristan's helmet before dropping him. "I'm finished with this fool. Let's go. I'm tired of this ugly city." The Prince of Luron would turn about, sheathing his sword so that he could leave. But upon turning around, he would suddenly feel something grab upon his ankle. Before he would be able to realize what was happening, Tristan would pull Olivier from his feet, sending him crashing unceremoniously against the ground. The front of his helmet would collide against the ground, temporarily stunning him long enough so that Tristan could climb over him.

"Fuck. You." The Aurelian Prince would finally give Olivier a taste of his own medicine, striking the foreign Prince in the front of his helmet with his gauntlet. Olivier would scream out as Tristan would hit him, again and again, each punch more ferocious than the last.

"Someone help me!" He would scream, "Get him off of-" the Prince wouldn't be able to finish his sentence, interrupted by Tristan viciously pounding against the front of his helmet. Tristan would thrash against the front of Olivier's helmet like a blacksmith's hammer against the anvil. He would continue to hit him with a merciless rage, until the front visor of his helmet had been properly caved in. By the time Tristan was finished, Olivier would be rendered the unconscious one, his body convulsing each time the Aurelian Prince would batter the front of his helmet. Even after it seemed like the Luron Prince was finished, Tristan would hit him once again, until he was no longer screaming.

When it seemed that the fight was over, Tristan stood up, navigating through Olivier's guards and towards his own. "Have my carriage prepared. I'm heading back to the palace." He slipped his battered helmet free from his head, discarding it to the ground beside him. As he walked away from the arena, he would unclasp the straps to his armor, throwing the pieces from his body, until he would be reunited with Theia at the bottom steps that they had originally taken to their seats. He would say nothing, reaching out to once again possess Theia by the wrist. He would pull her towards the carriage, before forcefully dragging her inside.

"Back to the palace." He would order, waiting for the carriage to move as ordered.