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ᗩ ᕼIᑎT Oᖴ ᗰᗩGIᑕ— ᒍᑌᗰᗷᒪEᗪ & ᐯIᑎᗩEIᑎ

Damian was a master mage. It was a title he had earned by blood, sweat, pain and hardship. He had gone through an amazing deal to earn the title of Arch Mage. Not every son of the Lascar family had survived as long as he had, not in a realm when they had to consider even family a potential threat. All for what? A ruinous, ancient, crumbling and rapacious manor with a mind and appetite of its own. It was enough to send a man to practical madness at times.

There was an envy in simplicity. And in simplicity was Alice's old life. A homestead, a profession...in the way she spoke of it, Damian suddenly wondered if she had been happier there, more than he had ever been in his own role. Envious, he thought...was that envy? Was he envying a simple baker? It made no sense. But the day had indeed been young and ther was so much to achieve.

But she'd liked the food. Maybe that was a start, he thought. And he answered thanks with his own, offering just a delicate gratitude with his body language. He was able to keep his own face guarded well enough from Alice. He didn't suppose she was adept at reading men like him. The Lord of Lascar finished his meal, nodding in satisfaction. "This was better for your involvement, Alice." He supported her along the way, his voice gentle. An acknowldgement that some might have considered a sign of weakness, but...

Hell, how could he do anything but? Alice had offered her help. He was returning that with gratitude, mage or not. And she was special...how could he begin to tell her what he had seen from his divinations in the past, before he had seen her? How would he explain why he had tested her with Sebastian. "There is a map of the household. All living here are more than used to it, Alice, but for the relative newcomer, it will be quite beneficial, I should expect..."

But showing her the gardens was absolutely something he wanted to do now....at least until he directed her to hide in the bushes. All amidst the ancient sculptures of House Lascar. Even staring at his brother, he could not help but take a strange pride in the legacies of the house. Even as he felt little now but a concern for Alice.

As the house shook, Julian gave a laugh. "Uncomfortable, brother?" He asked with a mocking lilt to his voice. He wagged a finger and Damian reacted at the sudden strike, batting away the light stroke of magic. Julian was grinning even wider. "Ah, your reflexes are as adept as ever!" He looked about. "Where is she? Your new pet?"

"Our guest," Damian said, his voice as cold and brittle as a fresh-formed icicle.

"Guest, pet...the difference is the same. Were you the one who pushed the council for that, Damian? No, you'd never have the wherewithal, now would you?" He tsked delicately, shaking his head. "Or are you obsessed with what you found in the depths of the mirror?" Julian leaned forward. "Does it resonate with you, Damian? What you've seen in her? What you imagine in her? Do you think she can be your redemption, brother? That she might pardon you so that you forgive yourself for what happened when- "

"ENOUGH!" Damian thundered and the ground shook. The Lord of Lascar drew hismelf up to his full height. "In the name of Lascar and of our father and mother, I tolerate you at times, Julian. Do not force that to its ending with you making a noose of your tongue!"

Julian only laughed at that, his cocksure growing darker. "The house tried for her. Do you think you know why?"

"And do you, brother? Are you going to inform me?"

"Why should I spoil a surprise?" Julian sighed and turned about. "She makes a good biscuit, though. Not her only talent, not by far, the sweet and frightened little bird that she is." When Damian heard her voice, his frown grew deeper.

"Alice. Remain where you are- "

"Do you fear me, brother? Haven't we been through this before? I can hardly do altogether much even against such a vulnerable, sweet little bird with a chilled leg. You've seen that I am to behave myself most thoroughly, even if those I am in communion with may not be ever so...." he paused for the right word. "Amenable, you might say. Alice Stone!" He turned to her with a laugh. "Hello, hello! I am Julian Lascar, thank you for your breakfast! I hope my dear brother has not been boring you of late, Damian takes himself ever so seriously...has he offered the tour? Has he shown you the mirror yet?" He continued, his grin suddenly predatory.

Damian raised a hand. "Alice," he said firmly. "To my side. Please."

"Now, brother...you might give her the impression I'm the more dangerous one...and if there's one thing we know that isn't true, it's THAT."
 
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Alice felt a level of confusion that an outsider might feel when placed in the middle of family squabbling. It was awkward when people argued around others that wanted nothing to do with it. And, Alice certainly did not want anything to do with it. She supposed she should not have been surprised in the least that the garden tour was interrupted before it could ever even begin. She wanted to see what life such a desolate and deadly place allowed to blossom within its barriers. It was curious and left her wishing to wander off while the men bickered. Even so, the brother kept pulling her back like a weapon aimed at Damian’s chest, hoping to hit him where it might wound him. If there was one way to make a woman such as herself uninterested in a man, it was by waving her name about as if she were a tool of control. It was an absurd notion, as well.

Taking a closer, or rather, more careful look at the brother, she could suddenly see the lines of age sink into his face, his posture shift to that of a man that had seen an injury or two in his time, and streaks of grey that traveled back from the base of his ear. This was not the same man that emerged from the garden moments before. Alice furrowed her brow as she stared, insulted as she assumed this was more illusionary magic. If deceit was his specialty, then she supposed that made sense. But Alice was beginning to realize that she could never be safe in a home where anyone could look like whatever they were inclined to resemble. If she showed any favor toward any one brother, the others were likely to pick up on it and confuse her mind later. This home was decidedly more dangerous than she’d imagined. If the walls didn’t close in on her, one of the Lascar’s would be sure to.

Julian had ignored her when she’d spoken, but it’d done enough to rile Damian. He demanded her to come to his side, but she wasn’t sure that was a great idea either. It was never wise to get between two fighting dogs. Julian had complimented her food, but it didn’t feel as nice coming from him. He made the baker uneasy. She kept her footing while her arms crossed in front of her under the cover of her cloak. The man had said just the right things, started intriguing questions all while leaving out the parts that mattered.

Redemption for what? That was an obvious bait to cause her doubt. Alice didn’t want that to work as he’d intended, but it did leave her wondering.

And a mirror? There were plenty of mirrors in the manor. Whatever he was getting at with that question she couldn’t be certain of. Perhaps if she was more adept with magic and things in that nature. But, that was not the case.

His questionings were putting Damian over the edge. His temper was growing around this brother of his, but she wondered if they all did this to him. Alice had no current way of knowing.

“It’s— interesting to meet you, Sir Lascar,” Alice said. It wasn’t the most polite greeting, but she just didn’t have a proper one for him. “I’m sure Arch Mage Lascar was waiting for you to come and show me this mirror you speak of. It seems as though you are far more interested in such things than he is.” Alice stared daringly at the man that was most certainly older than Damian despite what she first saw. These men and their tricks were going to be the death of her. How had anyone approved this? A young, single woman such herself, trapped in a place with so many men? She knew she wasn’t the most appealing thing in the world, and obviously lower class compared to these magicians, but in the end, she was still a woman. Men didn’t always care about much else— especially not men that referred to people as “toys.”

There was no way for Alice to turn this situation around in her favor. Not with these men. She was outmatched, outwitted, outnumbered— out of moves. Her mind was still processing all of the information Julian had spewed. He knew her leg had been hurt, he said it was chilled. Damian claimed that the household knew better than to be out at that hour, so when was it that his older brother had figured that out? Was he there? Or more importantly, was he the one actually controlling the house? He had just made it rumble knowingly moments ago.

“Sir, levels of danger don’t really matter to someone like me. Whether it be small or large, I’m still at risk. If I was sent here to die, I assure you I will fight.” Before she knew what she was doing, Alice walked away from both of the men, further into the gardens. If she was going to lose her life, she at least wanted to see the only real beauty the death manor seemed to offer. Walking away from mages was often something Alice had to do. Her hand left the confines of her cloak to allow her fingertips to touch the scar that rested over her eye. Why did she always attract the mad ones? The woman frowned as she dropped her hand again, nearing the golden statue ribboned with red and blue flowers as rich as wet paints.
 
There was a strong aura of unease hanging in the air with Julian around. Not one of the Lascar brothers could ever be neatly summed up as 'predictable'. But Julian could have best been summed up as the most dangerous of the brothers. Far more than Sebastian and in some ways even more frightening than Damian himself. The weathered look upon Damian's second brother, a reminder of the difficulties of his life, bespoke that danger, his eyes glinting with casual light as he offered his playful grin. "Still looking so deeply into the glass you claw at, brother dear?"

"You will do me the courtesy of not utilizing Alice as a weapon against me," Damian said, his voice rigid and with authority. "Shall I invoke the Lascar name against you, Julian? That and more?" Julian's face flickered, a frown obscuring it for a moment. "Ah, therein lies your attention, brother?"

"How like mother you've become," Julian murmured, before his attention was drawn to Alice. Julian observed her like an insect upon a slide, underneath an unforgiving sun.

"Alice!" said Damian again, urgency bleeding into his voice. "To my side," he said. He had seen the cracks in Julian's own glamour, the old expression upon the second brother's face. Alice's hesitation was worrying him all the more with her own mysteries and the notion of what Julian might do with that. If he knew. He might already, his senses were always finely attuned.

"You try to protect her more than you ever did your family, sweet brother," now there was an edge of offended innocence within Julian's voice that made Damian's teeth clench softly. He was speaking too much in front of Alice, the Lord of Lascar thought. Julian could be tolerated at most times, but this...

The memory of baking together returned to him from Alice, making him pause and contemplate his next course. Damian calmed himself, not wishing for Alice to see him erupt now. He could have done any number of things to shut Julian's mouth. But he remembered Alice was right there beside him. So he let her talk, the memory of freshly baked biscuits heavy in his mind.

"Ah, insight!" Julian laughed at the notion, his smile spreading. "No, you were not sent here to die. There are far more convenient place you might have been sent for that, sweet girl." He tsked, shaking his head. "you've been here a short time, my dear. Have you heard of the history of Lascar Manor? A long time ago, it was even Lascar Castle before they remodeled the place. Our ancestor Gregory Lascar murdered his brother Harold and his entire family to succeed him as Lord of Lascar. His ancestor was William Lascar. Why, we don't talk much about him, but there were such stories about him when we were little. Hide in your bed or William might find you. Don't leave your room at night or William might come!" Julian chuckled to himself. "My, those were the days, weren't they? We could even pretend we were close throughout it all. I preferred it that way..." he waved a hand, the House quivering again, before Julian's voice took on a sharper tone. "Be still!"

The house went still and calm as a stone, the Lascar brother shaking his head. "You've been treated cruelly, torn from your home, Alice Stone. Oh, I can tell already. You do not yet know who to trust, so I'll grant you some free advice: the answer is twofold: nobody. And yourself." He exhaled deeply. "But Damian would give you the same advice, I suspect. If he has not already. Trusting ourselves is not something Lascars excel at. Perhaps that is why we are so bad at trusting one another."

"There was a time when we did, brother," Damian said softly, Julian folding his arms.

"Is that what you still tell Sebastian? Those days have faded into memory and fog. Do not forget I am bound here as you are but what you see in that mirror, Damian. I am tolerated by this place, not accepted nor am I welcome. But this dear Baker...the House had its taste of her and here she sits. There's something intriguing about you, dear Alice," his eyes glinted with an ethereal light before he took his seat again. "What if I were to just tell you that you are quite safe as you might be...but that might change moment to moment? And that I heartily appreciate the breakfast? I've never had a biscuit so finely buttered...oh, am I being confusing? Well you might get used to that, too."

A shadow of sorrow flickered over Damian's face when his brother's gaze was not on his. "Alice," he said quietly. "We should move on. See the rest of the gardens mayhaps."
 
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—More comments about the mirror.

What was so interesting about a looking glass? What game was he playing with her? Each carefully placed jab at his brother was really a string of words meant to catch her ear and peak her interest, Alice had no doubts about that. Julian was a smart man, but she wasn’t completely being swayed by him. It pained Alice to admit to herself that Julian had her wanting to explore on her own, or even take a walk alone with him, though she couldn’t understand why the thought had even occurred. Maybe that was his goal.

Alice looked away from the men as she sighed softly and bit at the inside of her lip. She thought back to her own sibling, but was certain they didn’t antagonize each other as much as Damian and Julian. What was the purpose of such a display if not to make a show of it?

More and more, the man worked his way into making both Alice and Damian uncomfortable, though the reasons were different. She could feel how the Lord of the Manor struggled to call for her obedience. It wasn’t that she wanted to be disrespectful, but she didn’t wish to be any nearer the dispute of brothers than she already was. Perhaps this opened a window for Julian as he rambled about the history of the once grand castle remodeled into manor. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of giving up a castle on purpose. Who did that?

Once Julian began to prattle on, the baker had hopes it would distract him from his previous mission. He was clearly acting out; a child in need of attention when the other brother was getting it all. She couldn’t help but chuckle once to herself which she quickly masked by clearing her throat. “Yes, tales like those are always fun, aren’t they? My village had a few spooky stories that were local, too.” She didn’t know any of them. Alice didn’t have the time for such silly things. She was busy from dawn until dusk .There was no room in her life for much else. She had her baking, and when she was done, she had a cozy fire in front of her chair, a quaint dinner and the comfort of sleep before the next work day.

Julian hissing at the house practically demanded Alice’s attention. That was incredibly suspicious. He quickly shifted into talking about her. Was it an attempt to draw her attention wherever he pleased? The man was skilled with his tongue.

“You men of magic always have something to suspect. Someone to compete against. Goals to be better than the next. No one to trust. It sounds like a sad life; a lonely life.” she said quietly as her gaze shifted away from Julian and back to Damian. Could she really trust none of them? More and more, she did not want to stay with any of them. She had nothing to learn from them. Even if she was a magical person, she had no desire to hone a new skill. Her life was fine enough as it was with her mundane practices.

“You’re mad.” she blurted out bluntly. Julian was rambling on and on with one contradiction after the other. She took a step back, distancing herself more from the insane magician that took care to mention things he had no business knowing about her. Damian’s voice, softer, caused her head to turn to him. His eyes were fixed on her and demanded far more attention than his words had. Alice nodded slowly. Her arms hugged her torso with fingers desperately gripping onto the cloak. She had no desire to let Julian get a glimpse of her in the ridiculous gown she wore. It was bad enough Damian had seen her, though she’d grown more comfortable around him when in her element, almost forgetting her attire then in his kitchen.

Even if the two of them started to walk off together, what was going to keep Julian from following and continuing with his antics? She waited for Damian to get closer so that she could follow after him.
 
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Damian disliked the way his brother spoke. Immensely. There was too much in front of Alice, airing out family squabbles and history that was not to be discussed in front of outsiders. The quiet seething in Damian's eyes did not apparently go unnoticed by Julian, but Julian's smug smile told his brother that he did not care. He remained close to Alice, the grim frown upon his face while Julian was smiling. Beyond that, they may have even been almost identical. "Are you done, Julian?"

"I quite am for the moment, Damian, dear brother. Does that bother you so much? As they say, guilty consciences are rather frustrating, no? But what does the baker think? Do you have opinions, sweet baker?" The antagonism seemed to radiate off them both, but Damian seemed intent to disengage and remain close by Alice now...he disengaged from the confrontation, the notion of their family history being discussed annoying him now. "It's important to know the family history. It means so much to the manor. And its unique personality." Julian's gazed darted to the leg from whence the Mansion had attacked her. A lifetime of ill feeling seemed to hang between them, one Damian seemed intent on not revisiting.

Then the way Alice masked a laugh made Damian's eyebrow lift slightly. She must have been unnerved, and yet she was covering it with laughter and humor. That was not like the Alice he had known just a short time ago. Or, perhaps, it was like the Alice who had stood up to him in the kitchens to educate him on the baking of biscuits.

"Magic accompanies suspicion. So does power," Damian said, keeping her in sight while Julian laughed softly.

"If I am mad...who do you think made me that way? What do you think made me that way? If I am mad, who ensures sanity?" He gave a helpless little shrug. "At least I can admit it...enjoy your stay in Lascar, Alice Stone." He turned and stalked into the grounds, Damian pausing to turn to see Alice.

"I am sorry for that," he murmured, his face twisted suddenly. There was a sharp vulnerability to Damian for just a moment. Even if it passed swiftly, he exhaled. "I am sorry you had to see that, Alice. I merely meant to show you the gardens. Are you alright? Do you feel safe still?" He stopped, as to the stupidity of that question. "Would you feel safer inside?" He continued. "Julian...there were things that happened long ago when the family determined who would succeed our parents as head of Lascar. I passed the tests and Julian did not. The younger brothers have...a harder time of it, you might say," he sighed heavily, a sorrow in his eyes. "I have given you some poor first impressions of Lascar, Alice...to say the least. I shall try to make this as easy as I can for you, in every way I can say. Julian can be...difficult. I won't say he's harmless because he assuredly isn't." The garden looked to be losing its luster for him. "I do appreciate the courage on you," he admitted. "For someone in the position you are...you've showed a remarkable amount of resolve...with Julian around...perhaps I should show you more of inside? It is best we remain together for perhaps longer today. Nobody will do you harm while I am around though, I promise you that. And perhaps we can discuss more of how you came to be around here now..." He was determined to get to the bottom of this with her now...
 
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The similarities between the men were uncanny. They were obviously related, if not twins. Alice was beyond trying to figure it out, though, as they all seemed to alter their appearances whenever it fancied them. Was it that difficult to wear the skin they were born in? Alice had to live with her face looking the same in the mirror everyday; light skin, freckles, the wild red color that was her hair. She used big baggy clothes to cover her figure— well, it was practical for work. There was a lot of movements— a lot of ups and downs— that a custom made dress from the city just couldn’t keep up with. It’d only get dirty anyway, so there was really no point.

“Most men don’t bother with the opinions of women, sir,” she responded with a slight roll of those olive green eyes. Why was he bothering her? What did he want? “Especially a woman such as myself.” She was, of course, referring to her lack of magical ability— again.

Damian’s presence beside her felt like a snarling wolf or some other massive predator that was about to strike his foe down. He was acting like a wall, trying to block Julian’s line of sight from even peeking at the cloth that covered her skin. Still, Alice could see around Damian enough to note how his brother’s gaze traveled down to her legs.

“I can assure you that I won’t pretend to know anything about you or what’s made you the way that you are. Just because you know all about me doesn’t mean I was given a proper guide book to the Lascar manor and the mad men that live within its walls. You all should really consider doing that, though, for the next victi— I mean, apprentice you happen to mentor. I’m not sure I can enjoy it here personally, but I’ll do my best to survive until I can return to where I belong.”

It was difficult to stop responding, she realized. If she could just ignore him, he might lose interest, but that defied her personality. Alice, through her years of bullying and teasing learned how to stand up for herself. She lacked the magic and brute strength often required to do such a thing, which is where her mouth came into play. The look in her eyes, her quick witt and strike of her tongue were often enough to put a man off. Though this wasn’t always the case. Some men were violent, but she struggled to hold back even when she knew that as well. Alice tended to get herself into trouble at times, she had the random scars to prove it. But her foes were not typically as smart as these men. She shut her eyes, sighing as she did.

Just stop talking. Just stop.

And at last, Julian grew tired of his game. Damian guided her forward, away from his brother and the wicked manor, with a look she struggled to place as it left his face as quickly as it appeared. “It seems your family wants to be known. One by one they’re all coming out to play their games. I’m not some toy— not some play thing for you people. And don’t fool yourself into ever thinking I felt safe here.” she added sharply. Her harsh tongue wasn’t for him, but it came out nevertheless. “Let’s just keep walking. There’s no getting around any of them, from what I can imagine.” she told Damian. She was getting tired, but she didn’t mention that part to him. Inhaling deeply, she let the garden fill her senses.

She walked with him, though they didn’t go very far. Damian was hesitant in his steps, his choice of the gardens becoming more of a regret than he’d ever imagine it to be. “You don’t have to tell me all of this,” she assured him. She didn’t mind that they were dysfunctional. He didn’t have to explain all of their dark secrets to her. She stumbled to the side, her arm brushing against his as she corrected herself. Her hand absentmindedly grabbed his forearm as she straightened and she quickly removed it as she saw what she’d done. “Sorry. Just a bit— worn. The tour is nice, but I’d rather just sit down somewhere. I can go back to my quarters if you tell me how I’m supposed to get there. I’ve told you before. You should already have the details of my arrival. I don’t have any grand secret to reveal to you.”

The woman sighed defeatedly. Why wasn’t he getting it? It wasn’t that difficult. The council tested her, they made some fuss in another room, then they sent her off. “What are you wanting me to say? What am I supposed to do to convince you that I don’t know anything?”

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Alice had a certain charm to her, Damian thought. There was a boldness against the demure nature. A sarcasm that lingered below the surface, like tart cherries hidden beneath the plain crust of the pie. Oh, she had so much to her, this Alice, with eyes like green little rhinestones. "Most men, mayhaps not. But here at Lascar, we value all sorts of opinions- yes, that of women as well. I should hardly thing that be shocking. Should you have opinions, sweet Alice, then voice them! No doubt you'd have more intriguing ones than most of the dusty creatures that inhabit Lascar. Or the stuffed scarecrows that inhabit all of the magical councils and permeate through every nook and crevice of their society! And as for a woman such as you? Do you refer to yourself as a baker? Because either way, you'd be out of the ordinary for such silly, stodgy old dandies, whether baker or lacking magic!

"And it is the most interesting opinion of all that is sometimes the less conventional." Julian added, laughing tenderly as Damian's intense disapproval grew. Julian's lips remained fixed in the the most subtle ruthless gestures, the smile only growing upon his face. "My brother will care for you- "

"Not your concern, Julian," Damian looked back at Alice. "An education in more of Lascar will be forthcoming. I assure you, of any victims in the past, you shall not be one of them, Alice." he said it as a vow, even to his brother's seemingly endless amusement. But Damian was serious, without a hint of cold cruelty. For a moment, he not only seemed to wish to impart this to Alice, he wished her to believe it as well.

Alice had a fire in her. In that pale baker's body of hers, with that red hair and those olive-colored eyes, there was a fire yet to kindle. More than Damian had realized, there seemed a potential that needed nurturing. Her wit and tongue were sharper than a serpent's tooth, her demeanor hotter than the kiln in which they had set their biscuits. It hit Damian suddenly.

He had been happy there earlier. The sensation was so alien to him now. but Alice had brought it upon him. He had felt happiness. He had known the brief touch of joy, even with the playful bantering between them. Or perhaps even because of it, he considered. Vexing and difficult, this Alice. But he was finding himself appreciating her presence all the more.

With Julian gone, he wordlessly acknowledged what sounded an admonishment and offered his arm back to her. "My family...has its flaws," he admitted. "To put it very mildly. Flaws in history and in its present makeup. I am forced to...apologize for such things, I confess." Her apology drew his gaze. "You owe no apology to me, Baker Alice. I understand there is difficulty in all of it. I would...spare you from more, were it in my power." At hearing she wished to sit, he extended a hand. Instantly, an ornate chair appeared there, right by the gardens. "If you wish to take time," he said as he guided her there. "Sit. Relax. Shall I summon more biscuits for you? Tea perhaps?"

At her next words, his smile grew weary. "You don't need to convince me, Alice. If there is one thing I am convinced of, it's that you are no liar. In fact, I am quite sure you don't know anything. But that does not mean there is not more than meets our own eyes yet." He helped her to the seat. "Surely you see that you were not sent here for no reason, Alice...and Julian..." he shook his head grimly.

"Take a moment...I know this is all overwhelming.
 
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Alice hadn’t expected Damian to outright say his family valued opinions, be it woman, mundane, or anything else. She suspected he spoke more on his own behalf rather than the brothers, though. She’d never lived in a world where her opinion could hold weight and she didn’t know what to do with it, either. Ordinary Alice seemed blatantly lost for words. She paused with her mouth slightly agape, as though she might object or retort in some other “Alice” sort of fashion. But, instead she simply smiled, looking away from him to stare out at the plush greens and lively garden that openly contradicted the eerie manor. Julian’s voice cut through her quiet contemplation, and with a quick glance up at Damian, she could see he was irked again by his input. Sibling rivalry must have run deeply with the two of them. She shook her head and sighed softly. She hadn’t missed the part where he’d regarded Damian as someone to care for her. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. What did he mean by that? Obviously he couldn’t speak for someone else’s intentions. It’s not like those two were likely candidates for school-boy gossiping about girls. No, he didn’t know what he was talking about. And, Alice would be foolish to give that a second thought— someone like him, caring for her? As more than some guardian assuring that his house didn’t consume her?

Alice actively reminded herself that these men were dangerous. All of them. Damian was deceitful. He and his other brother had tricked her from the start. He couldn’t be the most trustworthy. There was no way she would allow herself to fall for a man such as him. Her eyes steered back to him, looking at his dishevelled appearance. No, a man like that had no business even considering someone like her anyway. She wasn’t anything to look at, she reminded herself. Any man in a position— any mage at all really— they would never give her a second glance. It wasn’t logical. Alice forced herself to place the silly notions of Damian out of her mind.

’That’s enough of that nonsense. Get it together.’

Damian was quick to get back to the subject of teaching. That’s right. Their relationship was simply that of a slightly disturbed teacher versus a fairly unwilling student. Nothing more. She studied his features; he looked lost in a thought she didn’t wish to disturb him from. Her slip-up didn’t phase him as he willingly gave her his arm again. He moved as though it was so natural to him. She wondered how many galas he’d attended or even hosted in his lifetime. Such a stance was probably just automatic for him, not that she was anything close to a high class woman. Alice couldn’t remember a time where any man had escorted her around, other than her father when she was but a young thing in their living area. He was a good man, she thought with a soft smile at the memory. Her fingers curled around his arm more firmly as they walked. She hated to admit that she liked the way Damian felt. Maybe it was okay to just let herself get lost in that moment while it lasted. It couldn’t hurt anything except her own mind in the long run.

She expected Damian to lead her off somewhere, maybe to a bench, or even back inside. Instead, a brilliant chair with dark wooden legs, carved in intricate twists and turns framed the crushed blue velvet of a chair that appeared before them. Alice seemed startled as it first appeared, her grip on his arm tightening before she relaxed. It wasn’t at all what she had in mind, but she supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised by the man that would park a large bed in the center of his kitchen. She was hesitant to sit. It just looked so out of place, and perhaps she was reluctant to let go of the mage’s arm so soon. Still, Alice released her grip and her fingers left him as she sat against the plush cushions of the chair. “Thank you, though this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” she mentioned. She would have been fine to just hide away in her quarters for the rest of the day.
He was right. The council wouldn’t have sent her off to him for no reason. It wasn’t as though they just wanted to force her out of the bakery to steal her building. She sighed as she slumped back against the chair. “I just— I don’t want to do this.” she said quietly. It was a sad whimper of a statement that wasn’t much like the Alice he’d met. But, he was right about that, too. It was overwhelming. She was completely in over her head and she had no idea how to do anything about it.

“Disclosing my life to you just doesn’t feel appealing. It— it’s so personal. I don’t know how you expect me to be able to just speak so openly about it all.” She honestly didn’t want him to know everything either. What would he do with such information? The bullying? The assaults? No, she could carry her own demons. People had a way of looking at others once they learned of hard pasts. Alice didn’t need that. She didn’t want his pity, or the way he looked at her to change. Her eyes moved up slowly to find his. “Tea would be fine, but this seems an odd setting with just a singular chair and you standing there like that. Don’t you have some nice study or something?” It was a reach, but the property was large and the home looked as though it had every type of room one might imagine up in their minds.

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Damian was unclear of how to continue on with Alice for the moment. He had been truthful when he said the Lascar family would value opinions. One did not climb to the top the magical world if they were too strident in their beliefs, of course. But everything here bespoke a significant amount of lenience for her. It was more than anything from the family, Damian realized. He genuinely, honest and truly, wanted to hear Alice's own opinions now. He wanted the fresh voice, he wanted to hear her words and her opinions. Fresh to the manor mayhaps, but with her own unique world view in how she saw everything around her, the mage was staring at Alice briefly, before he averted his gaze. Alice...was not suited to this world, he told himself. He would need to guide her, eventually let her go even...she was still scared of things, still learning...

But didn't that make it even more worthwhile for them now? Damian was a deceitufl man. He played with intrigue, made deception and politicking his meat and drink. He was bent on holding himself to these standards, but...Alice seemed to find herself in a curious niche for him where she might be divested from the worst of it....she was lovely. She had integrity. There was a warmth to her. Even a strength, one might find. He tried his best to conceal all of it now...

Him and his student no less! Get a hold, Damian, he told himself. She despises it here. She still hates it. She disagrees with the house that tried to devour her alive! Alice was rough, even crude and low class but somehow that made him like her all the more, damn him. He scowled to himself, even sighed softly while he glanced up. "Alice, are you alright?" He asked while they continued their slow walk around the gardens and grounds. He held his arm out weith strength, guiding her....one might have even mistaken them for a proper lord and lady seeing it, unaware of their strange relationship between them. But he liked her presence. He liked how she felt. He liked the sensation of being with her. Of being alongside Alice Stone.

He chuckled softly as he guided her to sit. "And what were you expecting, baker Alice?" He asked, back to the nicknames with her now. Everything seemed so manufactured in the circumstance, it was wonderful for a moment to pretend and to allow them time to be genuine with one another. The emotions, the intrigue, the enjoyment was not fake at all...he looked at her as she bemoaned something. He didn't pause her from stating her feelings... "I see," he said with a tender edge to his voice. Damian took a moment...

"Alice." He said seriously. He kept her gaze with his, serious and true to her with his eyes. "Alice Stone. Do not tell me. Hold it behind your tongue and within your mind. Until you are comfortable doing so of your own volition...I will not wrench from you that which you intend to keep hidden." He squeezed her hand. "I vow upon my name, of Damian Lascar..." she had been through so much, throughout life itself. And he felt a sense of guilt at it, that he had continued to upend her as well. "I won't force it. I promise," he added. "...I'll ask one thing. What can I do to bring you happiness here? What would help, Alice?" As for tea, he considered it closely.

"...We can go to my study. Would you prefer to walk, or shall I 'magic' us over there? It is the guest's decision," he added with just the vaguest of smiles to her.
 
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It was clear that Alice was getting overwhelmed. The very garden itself seemed as though it was leaning in toward her, flowers facing her direction, stems bending as though she were the sun that promised to nourish them with her light and energy. She sat there in that plush chair, unaware of it all; not seeing a single change around her as she was far too bothered by the constant pestering of the Lascar brothers. They all wanted things from her; to trick her, to pit her against another. Why was she sent to this awful place, of all the places in the world? There had to be closer mages to where she lived than these men three days out from her town and quaint bakery— her home.

She couldn’t fathom why Damian spent so much time trying to assure her that he wanted to make her comfortable, all the while not providing her reasonable clothing, her own belongings, or to just let her leave. Even if she was willing to believe there was some well of magic hidden within her bones, deep beneath the flesh and muscle, locked away somewhere that he intended to find, she still wanted to walk away from it all. She could learn to live with it— the thing that acted like a curse. And then there was the pressing and pressing for details, to understand her magic from some root event that must hold all of the secrets. Yet, her secrets were her own. Damian did not own her or the right to those. But what would happen if she stood up to him? If she stood up and lectured him properly, teaching him a thing or two about manners, would she see the next day? She truly didn’t understand this man that stood before her.

As her mind raced for the proper path to take, Damian’s voice broke her thoughts, shattering them like shards of glass as she looked up to him, as though she was just worlds away. He was telling her to keep her secrets, to hold them close. He promised. She wasn’t sure there’d ever been a promise in the world that hadn’t been broken. It seemed they were more likely spoken aloud just to manipulate the people it was being said to. The sentiment seemed nice, but Alice wasn’t able to trust so easily. Even so, if Damian was going to stop, that was a relief in itself. She could always hang that promise over his head if she needed to— so long as doing that wasn’t also a risk in itself. She needed more time to know.

And again he wanted to know how to help her. What was the simplest thing to ask for? To magic her into a more appropriate gown for the day? She looked at him blankly, trying to think if that was even a reasonable request. “Proper clothes. Now, not later. This is— well it’s just absurd. No, not you, well, yes, you’re in some disarray as well with your shirt all—” she waved her hands at him as if to let them finish her sentence. She knew he wasn’t going to let her leave. She’d already attempted to ask to go back to her room. He was determined to keep her there with him. So, as she was learning, when he asked her this question that seemed so broad and simple, it really wasn’t at all.

Alice would have answered immediately with “walking” as her answer to the question he proposed. However, her walks thus far in the manor had proven to be difficult as well as down right dangerous. Her main concern was running back into Julian. He seemed like a lurking type. For that matter, if she could avoid any other run-ins with his brothers that would be ideal. She quietly spoke. “Magic, I suppose,” Though the woman honestly wasn’t sure she wanted to. There was a warm feeling that surrounded her when she was completely surrounded by Damian’s magic, she realized. Alice wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, or if it was normal to feel that way. She convinced herself that it must be perfectly natural and to leave the thoughts there where they started.

The Study. Alice had all but forgotten about that room she was taken to when she first arrived at the manor. It was the first time she’d met Damian, only it wasn’t. Instead it was a room in which the deception first reared its ugly head in her direction and attacked without hesitation. When she suggested a quiet study for tea, it hadn’t even occurred to her that it would be within that same room. She looked around, staring at the shelves that dressed the walls, at the broken stone, a geode he called it, that was moved over to the desk as though it had been studied before retiring from the room. She quickly spun around to look at Damian, her eyes running up and down his figure as though she were trying to make sure it was him and not some shape-shifter of a brother. He looked like himself, still unkempt, towering over her as he did, slightly protective looking. Was that how she saw Damian? Protective? Alice looked at the ground as her mind took her elsewhere, trying to understand what it was she was feeling about that man. Perhaps he was a lion in a pack of wolves. Either way, he was still dangerous.

“Tell me you’re you.” she demanded. While she knew Damian had taken her there through magical means, she couldn’t know for certain if he’d left her alone and switched out with someone else, also by magical means. She stared at him for a moment longer before a glimmer of something captured her attention. She hadn’t noticed it before, but out of the corner of her eye, just off to the left, there was some sort of light coming from one of the shelves. She stared for only a moment before returning her attention to Damian. “You and your brothers are far too deceitful for my tastes. I don’t know how you expect me to know or even trust you are who you say you are to me.”



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Damian peered over at Alice and the reaction of the garden; the bent of the plants towards her, the rustle of the leaves as they leaned over, as if dawn to her in such a way. Damian gave Alice time to herself, remaining at a small distance to allow her a period with her thoughts. She was, he could sense, more than a touch, beleagured and stressed. He was trying not to blame her...he kept at a distance, hands folded behind her back as he tried to make sense of it all himself. Why had she been sent here? For what purpose? What was it about her, this mysterious happenstance that drew them inexorably into a similar path.

"After this," Damian said suddenly as he paced the garden close by to her. "...I do not wish this to be a prison, Alice. Any more than it is for me." Perhaps the pinnacle of damning with faint praise for that, admittedly. "but with the council's orders, you remaining here is imperative. Defying them can lead to consequence for the both of us. If it makes you more comfortable, however...is there anything you have from home I might have retrieved?" He asked her, his tone as delicate as he might make it.

Alice seemed reticent to share anything, but Damian could remember everything he had heard in the ancient mirror of house Lascar, the portents of what might be to come. He did not truly yet grasp how involved Alice might be in such affairs. He was convinced she knew nothing, but that did not mean she didn't have secrets. And so he was left to uncover them.

Little did she know it wa for both their sakes. They were dealing with the entire council who expected results. Damian had been selected for reasons he could hardly fathom himself. He glanced at her, seeing the hidden fire within her eyes again, the burning resentment coupled with an unyielding desire to assert herself. God, he almost wished she would just do it. Show him what she hid behind those eyes....show him that strength. He waited for her to stand up to him.

She might not win, but it would be quite the struggle between them. He somehow wished there was an avenue by which he could see her released, as if there was a lock that her words could craft a key to undo. If it were a fairy story, there would be a riddle she could solve to earn her freedom. But this, he thought, was not some magic story where she could earn her freedom with logic and fire. Should he yield, the Council would be on them.

And as terrible as she believed the Council to be, Damian Lascar knew it was nothing to the nightmares they could truly muster. The Lascars knew more than most what lay underneath that surface, had handled the dirtiest business of the council before. May Alice never know what secrets those consisted of, what bodies lay buried under the cobblestones at the road that lead to prosperity.

But when he asked what she wanted, the answer was simple: "Proper clothes." When she mentioned his shirt, he glanced down at himself. "I am NOT in disarray," he said with a trace of a scowl before he extended a hand towards her. He whispered several words and light flashed about Alice. Clothing took the place of her current shift, leaving her in a proper dress.

"Will that be sufficient for the moment? Magic proving useful at this time, Alice stone?" He stared at her with a curiosity. "Would you like time to yourself before a resumption? Would you like to gather your things from your home if that would make it more comfortable?" He then stopped short as he faced her, puzzled at what she asked.

"That I am...me?" He asked. "That I am Damian Lascar? That you want to know who I am?" One minor bloody deception and he was to have this hanging over him for a while, he thought. Well, so be it. "I am Damian Artus Caspian Lascar," he said with stiff dignity. "The Lord of House Lascar, the final member of this line. Shall I swear by what you deem proper, Alice? What would convince you? I can only vow to speak truth to you from this point....not that I have yet. What may put your mind at ease through this? Do the clothes help?"

He had tried to distract her as he wove another spell of travel, snapping his fingers. their bodies vanished, traveling and burrowing into the space of pure magic to slide through that ethereal space and back into the manner. Away from Julian and the garden, into a strangely simple, yet vast room.

There was a desk, a mirror, and shelves of books in mahogany, carved shelves. The desk was ornate and ceremonial, almost. Upon one shelf, one of many, lined with volumes and volumes of books, there was one that drew Alice's gaze: an ancient tome, bound in leather and covered in dust with a faint azure glow.
 
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