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The Ward (NobodysAngel80 x EvelynWillows)

As close as he was standing next to her, she could barely breathe out of nervousness as he reached over to take one of the sweet biscuits on the plate atop the counter. He mentioned that he would come back later that night to bring in more wood for the morning and she could only nod numbly. He was...terribly close, and he smiled in such a way that made her feel very strange, her stomach twisted and knotted and her breath coming hard and fast. Her fingers were unsteady as she wrapped sandwiches stuffed with dried meat and cheese, freshly crisped fried salted potatoes and a tiny wrapped container of pickles into a paper bag.

Kline shrugged a bit, surprised at the notice that the soldier had given him. "I...well, I go to the temple school nearby. Priests teach the children to read and write and do figures, and I work with my parents at the general store. I suppose I'll take over the store for them when I get older, but til then I like helping Miss Rihayne." The boy glanced towards the young woman as she worked on getting the lunch ready for him, a faint little blush on his freckled cheeks. It was clear that the bakery mistress had an admirer. He noticed that the soldier looked more serious, and that worried him a little. Soldiers didn't look serious unless things were bad.

Rihayne straightened and held out the wrapped package for him, looking flushed though whether it was from the heat or embarrassment she refused to admit, even to herself. "I'll have supper put aside for you as well when you come back. So...just let me know. I'll probably be closing up shop when you arrive, depending on how late it is."
 
"Ah...you go to the Temple of Grace schools then." Roguel knew the schools well. He had set them up a few generations prior. "Good. Education is always good." He turned to Rihayne and took the sandwiches from her, his hands encompassing hers. "I'll be back tonight after you close your doors. Don't open them for anyone else, understand?" Once he had her agreement he would leave.

The sight of the red-eyed man concerned him. Only those with demon blood shone red, and the only one in the city that he knew of was a danger to all he took interest in. He needed to protect Rihayne not because she was a nice girl, which undoubtedly she was, but because her bloodline was one he had pledge to protect. Now, as the last of her line, she was his ward. His responsibility. And he'd be damned if some half-demon bastard was going to lay his claws on her without a fight.

The rest of the day seemed like a normal one for the little shop. Later that day, though, a tall, blond man came in. His smile was easy and his manner was polite and well-bred. When he saw Rihayne he nodded, and she could tell that he had a bit of the Fae blood in his history. "Good evening, Ma'am. I was told that you bake the most exquisite almond flake cakes." His mouth curved upwards seductively. "Are your goods as delectable as I've been told they are?"
 
The day was busy, which was to be expected. Soldiers and workers came in and out all day, buying up her stock and by the time the blonde man came in, all smiles and Fae features, she was a bit exhausted. It showed in her tired smile and wave as she greeted him, wiping flour from her hands from finishing the prep work for her morning breads. "Well, that's what they say at least. Welcome! What can I get for you?" She didn't know why but she found herself blushing, and she was used to soldiers proclaiming their undying affection for her with their mouths full of her cooking. Just a little smile shouldn't have made her feel so squirmy. "I've got a few a of those cakes left; I can give you a sample, let you see what you think."

She went to the display case, taking out one of the half dozen remaining cakes and took one out, handing him the little cake wrapped in paper and smiled. "Give it a try, let me know what you think. I can make more if you decide you want to make an order for them, it'd be no trouble." She glanced up at the window, considering the timing a moment. "It might not be done until tomorrow, depending on how big of an order you're wanting."
 
The man set the cake aside. "Oh...I wasn't merely speaking about your baked goods my dear. No, you are more than a sum of your baked goods, which you should never give away for free. Never for free." he smiled and drew a hand across the top of her fingers, sending a shiver through her body. "I would like to take you to dinner, my lovely lady. A simple dinner with a simple man."

His eyes were nearly hypnotic. "Say yes. Tell me that you'll come with me tonight." He tilted his head to the side slightly. "Come as you are, my lovely. You are perfect."
 
She looked more than a little confused by his apparent dismissal of the cake and instead seemed to be using some rather obvious innuendo. He was very smooth, she had to admit. She was practically a connoisseur of pickup lines but he was definitely an old hand at this. It was how she kept her head in situations like this, when someone was so openly flirtatious with her. Still, the fact that she felt a very pleasant shiver go down her spine at the merest brush of his fingers across her hand made her a bit more interested in what he had to say. "I...I mean... w-well, I have so much work to get done and...and I'm covered in flour and sugar. I don't..I should...I should bathe and...and change clothes." She said, her face going pink with embarrassment at his words. "I mean...d-do you know me? I've never seen you in here before and...and I'm sure I'd recognize you." What could have possibly made him choose today to come in? Why would he be interested in her? He looked far more Fae than she did, probably as much in his bloodline as her father had, so why was he still in the city? There were so many questions, and of course, Roguel had told her he'd be by again tonight. She didn't think he'd be very pleased with her if she blew him off for a dinner date with a man whose name she didn't even know.
 
"My dear, you can clean up if you'd like...or you can let me assist you." He smiled and tilted his head as his hand waved up and then down as if fanning the air softly. Rihayne's clothing was suddenly clean and more than that, it was changed. She was suddenly in a demure, dark silk dress that complemented her natural coloring perfectly.

He smiled. "I've been waiting for the right time to introduce myself to you." He extended a hand to her. "I am Duke Liam Tiamott. Our families have been friends for a long time, and I've been searching for you for several years. It would make me very happy to be able to spend the evening with you. I can explain more while we are out, if you'd like." He was extremely charming, and everything about him seemed to scream out 'you can trust me'.
 
Her eyes went wide as there was the sudden sensation of being scrubbed clean and dressed in a beautiful dress that would have been far, far too expensive for her to even consider purchasing, much less wearing. Her hair was twisted up, her whole body clean and soft and scented as if she'd just stepped out of the bath. She wasn't sure whether to be shocked that he'd apparently done this with just a wave of his hand, embarrassed that he'd been so presumptuous as to use magic on her, or terrified that he had just used <i>magic</i> on her. For a moment, all she could do was stare at him in disbelief and more than a little fear, shying away from his hand at first, the same hand that had just waved and done such a thing to her.

"I...D-Duke Liam Tiamott? I...I didn't realize my...my family consorted much with n-nobility. I'm afraid my parents never mentioned your family and I'm sorry that I'm...at a bit of a loss at all this. I'm not sure that I can...that I would be able to..." She wanted to believe him, everything about him seemed to soothe her nerves and just make him seem more and more lovely. Roguel would be by...and he'd told her not to let anyone in aside him once she'd closed the shop. But the shop wasn't closed yet, and this man seemed...well, he seemed charming and she'd never taken any sort of flirtation seriously before but he seemed....well, sincere. "I...I suppose I could close the shop a...a little early." She said slowly, still a bit nervous about the whole thing but going more from the fearful nervousness of earlier to the shy nervousness of a thoroughly charmed young woman.
 
"Of course you can. Of course it will be alright, Rihayne. There's a carriage outside. You don't mind if we take a carriage, do you? The upper streets of the city are a long walk, and those shoes you have on are fine for dancing, but not very good for walking."

He smiled and opened the door. "Come, my dearest. This is the first night of many, I'm certain. I've been looking forward to spending time with you for a long, long time." Liam put a fur-lined cloak around her shoulders. "I hope you don't mind a small gathering of friends. A small ball; you always knew that you were someone special, didn't you? I'm here now. It's like the fairy tales, Rihayne, and you're the fair maiden."
 
She hadn't ever really ridden in a carriage before; those were usually reserved for those far more rich and powerful than the owners of a simple bakery. A cloak was pulled around her shoulders and she offered no resistance, too surprised by everything going on, by what this man was saying. It was just like he said, it was like a fairy tale and she'd never been much on fairy tales. She had always been a very reasonable, sensible young woman and hadn't had her head turned by flattery. But something he said bothered her...the statement that she was someone special. "I..I'm not special though. I'm just...I mean, I'm only a baker. There isn't anything unusual about me, there never has been." She balked a little, not certain about this, looking around nervously. "Are you...are you sure I'm the one you want? I mean, my family's never been mixed up with the nobility or anything. You might..I mean, if you're mistaken I'd hate to have you waste some sort of special surprise that's meant for someone else on me."
 
"You're not 'just' anything, Rihayne. You're unique. Perfect." He put out a hand to help her step up into the carriage that was waiting outside. The carriage was white, edged in gold and light blue. "Don't let anyone tell you that you're less than special."

The foot man opened the door for them both and tilted his hat at Rihayne.

"My dear, no time spent with you is wasted. And there is no special surprise that is meant for anyone else. It's all meant for you." He took her hand again, and looked at her eyes. "You don't know how beautiful you are, do you?"
 
She didn't remember completely consenting to accompanying him to this...where were they even going? He'd mentioned dinner, and remarked that her shoes were fine for dancing but not walking, but then he was leading her out the door and to a beautiful carriage, a carriage like the ones in fairy tales that took lovely princesses to fancy balls. "I...I don't understand, how do you even know me? How do you know my family? I don't know..." But no matter what weak protests she made, she was being inexorably guided into the carriage, settled onto a plush seat, a footman at the door and a driver on the coach, with beautiful horses and this man, this strange and charming man who insisted that she was more than what she thought she was. She didn't know how to respond to such a claim, having been quite content in her ordinary little life for so long that the idea of being special suited her ill, like a pair of shoes fitted to another woman's foot, too tight and wrongly shaped for her.

"I...I am certainly not beautiful, sir. And I'm not special, either. I'm unique only in the fact that there isn't anyone exactly like me that I know of but I'd never be so arrogant as to call myself perfect." She folded her hands in her lap, glancing back at the shop as the carriage pulled away. "I should have locked up...made sure the fires were banked and the food out of the ovens. And...and I had someone coming to bring in firewood for me, he'll be very unhappy with me when he comes and finds out I'm not here. I should have...should have left a note or something..."

Fretting over those mundane things helped her head to stop swimming quite so much and let her focus on the situation, not just be swept up in the magic of it all. And somewhere in the pit of her stomach, she realized that she would need to keep her wits about her. She was going into a strange situation with a stranger, meeting people she'd never met before who lived in an entirely different social stratus than herself and she was going to have to be very quick on the uptake to keep from embarrassing herself or insulting someone else.
 
"Lady Rihayne, you worry too much. Truly. The world can live without you for a few hours." The man smiled and crossed his legs at the knee. He seemed completely at ease, and why should he not be? He was in his own element here. "I know you through your family." It was the truth. He gestured towards his own sublime features. "We have a lot in common, do we not? It's a shame that good, honest people would be sent running from their homes simply because of the ancestry of blood that runs through their veins."

The carriage climbed through the city into the upper streets. The lamps were golden, lit from within with magic instead of flamed oil. The road became smoother and less noisy. Soon they pulled up in front of an elaborate home, several stories high and glowing with bright lights. "Here we are, my dear. Remember; you are who you portray yourself as. No one knows anything that you don't want them to know."
 
She didn't know what to say to that, honestly. Her mother had always called her a worrywart, had said that she always concerned herself with things she couldn't help but even now at this point, she was uncertain of this situation. He motioned to his face, the fey beauty of it, and she had to admit that he was a handsome man, exotic and golden. "I...well, I don't have the problems that you have. I don't look to be anything other than human, but how have you managed to escape the king's edicts regarding non-humans?" She looked at him curiously, wondering how he could walk about so openly, and be so wealthy still, being of mixed blood in the king's capital.

She'd never been to this part of the city before, had never had a reason. While her family had been well off enough to own their own shop and live comfortably, they certainly never really associated with anyone higher than other merchants or artisans. And they'd certainly never been anywhere as opulent as the house they pulled up in front of. She swallowed hard, looking over at him as he spoke. It wasn't much comfort; she'd never been good with talking to people aside from her customers; she could be charming and funny with those people but she'd never been to any sort of fancy gatherings and had no idea how to portray herself as anything other than a simple baker in a magic dress. "I...suppose you're right." She said dubiously, though her face was pale enough and her hands shaky enough to make her nerves evident.
 
Duke Liam Tiamott smiled under the perfectly unruly yet stylish blond hair that almost seemed to lay just out of reach of his thick lashes. He had a way of being pushy...yet polite. He seemed to sweep Rihayne along as easily as one swept a parcel of puppies towards a bowl of milk. His chiseled features seemed otherworldly, and his eyes, so green and intense, burned with a cold fire.

"Of course I'm right, my dear sweet morsel." The carriage pulled to a stop in front of a large home lined with glowing, blue pots of light that burned with a steadiness that screamed out 'magic'. The home belonged to a high-ranking judge in King Lothian's court, though there was no way for the innocent baker to know where she was being brought.

Fancy-garbed women and men dressed to impress in their noble colors were pouring out of carriages like sacrificial offerings on the altar of royalty. The duke put a cool, strong hand over Rihayne's and smiled. "Don't be nervous, my dear. You'll simply be one of many lovely women here tonight. Just enjoy yourself. You deserve a special evening. Hopefully it will be the first of many that we enjoy." His eyes moved lightly over her soft, supple body, made for the gentle comforts of bed more than for any seamstresses' fashionable designs. The Duke could imagine how nicely her flesh would give to his urgent proddings in the privacy of his chambers, and the thought of taking her there and corrupting her innocence made his blood warm.
 
It was probably the good animal sense that a rabbit feels when a wolf is bearing down on it, a throwback to more instinctual times, but she felt nervousness that leaned very heavily towards outright fear as he placed his hand over hers and reassured her that she wouldn't stand out, that she'd be just one of the many women there. It stood to reason of course; she wasn't particularly beautiful, and aside from being magically created, the gown she wore wasn't terribly ostentatious. She looked well dressed but no more or less so than any of the other fine ladies stepping out of carriages into the magic-lit street outside of the large house.

She fidgeted a bit, twisting one loose curl of hair around her finger, glancing back at her companion a moment. "I don't know...what I should talk about, or how to behave. I don't know how to dance or make polite conversation or any of the things that those women know how to do. What should I talk to those fine lords and ladies about? How hard it is to get good cinnamon or coriander imported now? The price of flour?" She drew back from the window, smoothing the dark blue silk of her gown gently, almost as if she were afraid she would damage it merely by touching it, then looked back up at him.

"You won't...leave me, will you? I don't want to embarrass myself or you. I don't know if I can do this; they're going to know I'm not one of them. The kingdom isn't so big they won't recognize me as someone who's never been to one of these things before. They'll ask me things and then I'll tell them that I'm a baker and...they'll laugh at me." She said, pressing one hand to her stomach as if hoping to quiet the nervous churning. The idea of going to a fancy ball and such was always a lovely one but now that she was confronted with the reality, she couldn't help but see the inherent problems that such a thing presented. Perhaps she was over-thinking it. Perhaps he would be angry at her for being so hesitant.
 
"You don't have to say anything." He smiled and leaned closer to her, his lips nearly brushing her ear. "As a matter of fact, say nothing. Play the mysterious woman; the one who answers no questions but nods and moves on, as if the others in the room are far beneath your status. The fact that you are with me will be enough explanation to those who will seek out your identity, and everyone, my dear, loves a good mystery."

He pulled back and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No one will laugh at you. They're too afraid of me to dare."

With that he exited the carriage and offered her a hand to help her down the steps. The footmen all seemed to know their roles, and as soon as the two stepped away from the carriage they folded up the steps and moved the carriage out of the way of the others.

The grand stairs up to the house were broad and strung with garlands of blooming roses. Small groups of wealthy stood to the sides, chattering and gossiping as their lot were wont to do. Their conversations paused as the Duke and his lovely lady walked past. Many women fanned themselves nervously and looked at Rihayne as if she was a threat to their femininity. Duke Liam Tiamott smiled at her as if to say "See? I told you that it would be fine."

At the door the steward announced their entry. He did a double-take when he didn't recognize Duke Tiamott's lady.

"Lady Rihayne," Liam told him quietly. He raised an eyebrow to indicate that he was displeased that the man didn't know her name already, as if it was a name everyone should be aware of.

"Announcing the Duke Liam Tiamott, and Lady Rihayne!" Called out the steward as the pair passed into the massive, elaborate mansion. Many paused in their discussion to turn and look at the two, and most bowed their heads or curtsied in greeting to the pair. Liam inclined his head to most, but there were a few he ignored. The slight was palpable.

"Let us get you a glass of wine," Liam said quietly to Rihayne. "It may be a while before the guest of honor arrives."
 
Considering that she had no idea how else to behave in such a rarefied group, the idea of simply not saying anything seemed the best way to do things. She hoped that he didn't escort her in and just leave her alone in there; she didn't think she'd be able to manage to keep from embarrassing herself if left to her own devices in such company. The squeeze on her hand did comfort her and she managed a small, nervous smile as he released her hand, stepping down out of the carriage and offering his own hand to her to help her down. She took it and stepped down, staying close to his side as he guided her up the rose garlanded steps.

It was a beautiful house and she did her best to not look as awestruck as she felt. She smiled up at him shyly as they walked past the various groups of people dressed in luxurious finery. The conversation paused as he guided her past and she felt her stomach twist slightly as she felt the eyes on her as if they burned her skin through her gown. She managed to keep smiling, though she felt very much like hiding in some quiet, secluded corner and staying out of everyone's notice before she found herself an object of ridicule or embarrassment. She at least looked like she belonged; his magic was impressive, though she wondered if her gown and the finery was real or would melt away when the dance was done, leaving her in her former clothing at the stroke of midnight or some other arbitrary time as decided upon by fairy tales. It wasn't a strange comparision to her at least; the whole thing had a surreal, magical feeling to it and having never experienced anything like actual magic, even something as small as changing her clothes was enough to make her feel like a fairy princess.

She had to admit that she had never imagined in her life that she would have been referred to in any seriousness as 'Lady Rihayne', much less be announced as such at a fancy ball. However, once the announcement was made, he was guiding her forward and people were bowing their heads to the pair of them. While there were some he ignored, she had no idea of any such reason to slight anyone, and so she simply smiled and nodded to anyone who acknowledged her. She didn't know if that was a bad thing, but unless instructed otherwise, she would be polite to everyone. Liam - Duke Liam Tiamott, she reminded herself fiercely; there was no sense in being more familiar than was proper, whatever lovely dress he made her or fancy party he took her to - mentioned a glass of wine and with her nerves jangling from being in such company, in such a place, completely out of her element, that glass sounded wonderful. "Yes please, thank you. Who..who is the guest of honor?"
 
Duke Liam passed a fluted glass with sparkling wine in it to Rihayne. He smiled as he raised his own glass in a small, private toast with her. In his eyes she could see reflected that as far as he was concerned, they were the only ones who mattered in the grand room. "To us and new adventures, my dear." He smiled and took a sip of the dry, sweet liquid. The wine was very strong and potent, and the bubbles only added to the headiness of the drink by seeming to send it's effervescent magic straight to the base of their brains.

"You should let the surprise of tonight's guest be pure for you my dear. Just enjoy the evening." He smiled and leaned nearer to her little seashell of an ear to whisper intimately "Don't you like surprises? This is every birthday of yours I've missed rolled into one. Now that I've found you, my dear, I intend to lavish you completely until you understand that you must be mine." His lips brushed her skin and for a moment it seemed like he might lean further over and touch his lips to hers. His fingertips traced the outer line of her palm where she held her wine flute in a strong but very feminine hand.

A fanfare of trumpets sounded from the wide staircase on the far side of the hall. Every face turned to look as four trumpeters walked in sync to the stairs and spread out, then began to blow their rousing song of entry.

Duke Liam's eyes were not trained on the staircase, however, they were watching Rihayne. He smiled softly at the wonderment on her face. She was, indeed, pure and unscathed, despite her parents' absence due to the king's moratorium on non-humans. Liam knew that he was only here and tolerated by the king because the mortal had no other choice. Not many people associated the charismatic Duke Tiamott with his alter-ego. As a matter of fact, very few knew who he was when he wasn't serving a purpose for the kingdom.

The High Inquisitor Aimast K'Grun was a gorgeous man. Indeed, he was only half man. The other half was rumored to be demon by those brave enough to gossip in the quiet reaches of their sitting rooms. At this moment he was watching the soft, partridge-plump woman he had escorted to the Count of Mimbrae's welcoming dinner. The count, it was whispered, had come to offer his daughters as a bargaining chip to King Lothian to avoid an all-out war with the ruthless ruler. Aimast smiled at Rihayne and took another sip of wine as the music ended and the herald stepped out to announce the highly anticipated guest's arrival.

"May I announce the Honorable, Most High Lord and King, Overlord of the Three Seas and Conqueror of the Allied Ememies, King Lothian of Vistamare."

Everyone who wasn't already standing did so and began to clap as the king, regal in Purples and vibrant Blues, slowly walked out to the top of the stairs. He raised his elderly hands and with a slight tremble in his digits he bade all welcome. High above him he raised his scepter.

"Thank you, guests and friends." His voice radiated unnaturally throughout the grand room. It was as if he was speaking to each person individually, even though he was easily twenty yards away and frail in his advanced years. His crown stood tall and elegant above his head and seemed to radiate with a magical presence.

"Thank you for coming as we welcome a potential ally in our advancements for purity in our nation; Count Mimbrae of Duscany and his lovely daughters." The king inclined his head to a thick, powerfully built man who was bowing low, and his two daughters, who had bent to curtsy and practically brushed the floor with their foreheads. "I'm glad you are here. Please, enjoy your evening." The king lowered his scepter and everyone relaxed as he descended the stairs. Behind the king strode a powerful man clad in red and black leather. His cloak and hood hid much of his features, but no one who lived in Vistamere would have mistaken the man for anyone other than the Red Mage.

Mothers chastised naughty children with the threat of being sent to the Red Mage to have their naughtiness cut away. Unlike the High Inquisitor, who was merely cruel and efficient, the Red Mage was said to be capable of filleting one's soul and feeding it to the hell hounds.

As the Red Mage was descending the stairs behind the king, one thing was certain to Rihayne. The mage was looking at her and he was not pleased that she was there.

Duke Liam smiled back at the mage. Turning casually to Rihayne he smiled behind another sip of wine. "Would you care to meet the king, my dear?"
 
Rihayne's experience with wines was very limited; not nearly as limited as her experience with fancy balls and gowns and such things but nevertheless, something that she wasn't entirely prepared for. The sip that she took of the wine made her giggle slightly as the bubbles tickled her nose, the flavor sweet and strong and crisp on her tongue. "To...to new adventures." She said, though she sounded more than a little bashful about her own lack of contribution to the conversation. She felt...rather stupid and slow, her mind fuzzing slightly with the drink. The extent of her alcoholic explorations had largely been with cooking wines and such, nothing that would have affected her as much as the fine wine they served here would. She finished the glass but resolved not to have anymore. It would be terribly impolite to become drunk and make him have to look after her because her inebriated state would have left her a burden.

He bent close to her ear, his breath tickling her skin slightly as he asked if she liked surprises. She would have spoke up and stated that she liked surprises of course, what person didn't...except that he continued speaking, just like the prince in fairy tales spoke to the mysterious girl at the ball. Normally she'd have never questioned such a thing in a fairy tale, but given that she knew quite well that she, being the mysterious girl at the ball, wasn't a long-lost princess or anything of the sort, felt that perhaps him saying such things to a simple baker was rather setting himself up for disappointment since she was certainly not a long lost princess or any other such thing that would lead to a happily ever after. The forthright, honest portion of her brain, made even larger than normal by the application of alcohol, made her want to speak up that perhaps he might not want to have her be his after all, considering that he was a duke and a powerful magician, and she was really only exceptional at making bread and pastries. It wasn't exactly something that made men pledge their undying love to a woman utterly their inferior in social standing. However, her good intentions were really for nothing though, because his lips being that close to hers, his fingers stroking along her hand made her already uncertain mind flutter more towards the physical sensation and less on the fact that she was utterly out of her element here.

The blare of trumpets made her jump and scramble to keep from dropping the crystal glass, turning towards the sound and wondering what exactly was going on. She didn't see the way that Duke Liam's eyes stayed on her, and she would have never even thought to consider that he might be something other than what he'd presented himself to be. While the whole situation with him sweeping her off her feet and bringing her to the ball was something straight out of a children's story and she couldn't have ever fathomed his reasoning, who was she to question what a nobleman wished to do? He had been a perfect gentleman and had been remarkably kind to her; it would be impolite in the most extreme sense of the word to start ascribing unkind motivations to him. Even if she didn't understand his reasoning, it didn't make it any less valid on his part. Maybe in time she'd understand but for right now, she'd simply accept his actions for what they were.

However, all thoughts of such things flew right out the window when the herald announced King Lothian of Vistamare. Needless to say, Rihayne wasn't precisely eager to be in the room with the man; if he sniffed out the non-human in her, she'd be carted off to the dungeon in chains, she was sure! Duke Liam might have some safety because of his position and his magical talents, but she had no such things to protect herself with. The king looked older and more frail than she'd expected, and when everyone else began to clap she joined in as well as was polite. She glanced towards the count and his daughters as the king acknowledged them, having to admire the beautiful young women and their lovely gowns, feeling once more terribly out of place in comparison to such elegant and cultured women. She watched the king make his way down the grand staircase, her gaze glancing back towards the red and black leather clad man behind him and felt a little tremor of fear. The Red Mage was a terrifyingly impressive sight no matter who a person was. However, the last thing that she had ever expected was to see his gaze fall on her, and his expression to be so very, very displeased. She felt herself flush a dull red and looked away, holding the now empty wine glass in a trembling hand. He had magical powers as well, and he would certainly know that she wasn't noble or anything of that nature. Mages knew all sorts of things that regular people would have no idea of. He probably knew who she was and found it an affront that so lowborn and common a woman was here at a ball where the king himself was present. He would strike her down for sure, call her out as an impostor and feed her to his hell hounds, if the stories that she'd heard all her life were true.

She glanced back up at Liam as he spoke, her eyes going wide and shaking her head quickly. Ohh no! If the king didn't ferret out her non-human heritage, the Red Mage would crook his finger at her and turn her into something terrible and slimy and how on earth would she explain that to her parents. "Ohh no...no, please, I wouldn't know what to say to him! It would...probably be best if I left. I..." She glanced back towards the Red Mage nervously; why was he so angry at her presence? Did he smell the other than human blood in her veins? Did he wish her dead for the perfidy of not having left the kingdom as well? This was a terrible idea, she should have known. "They won't..be angry at you for bringing me, will they?" She asked, her voice tiny and frightened at the prospect of angering two such powerful men.
 
"Oh...my dear, do not be afraid." Duke Liam slid an arm around Rihayne's waist and pulled her slightly closer to himself even as he removed the crystal glass from her hands. "You are my guest. My honored guest. If anyone is displeased, it is only because you are on my arm and not their own." His gorgeous lips curled up into a genuine smile as he looked deeply into the young baker's eyes. She was so innocent; soft and plump and child-like, yet her womanliness radiated through and promised nights of gentle, passionate love in the quiet secrecy of her bed. The Duke found that her innocent femininity made him very, very hungry for fulfillment. It was like the first deep scent of a freshly baked cake that begs to be devoured before it cools. He leaned closer to her ear and spoke to her like they were long-time lovers. "Do not worry, Rihayne. You can meet him later when your courage is bolstered. Indeed, you should. The two of you have much in common."

Across the room the Red Mage raised his head slightly and allowed his hood to fall away from his head. He had short, dark hair and a neatly cropped goatee that did nothing to mar his perfectly masculine features. His eyes burned with fiery power as he allowed his gaze to raze the large room and analyze everyone in the presence of the king. Again, when his gaze fell on Rihayne there was disapproval in his eyes. He looked at the Duke at her side like one would regard a viper that stood between himself and the doorway to escape a burning house. There was no love lost there, but there was a grudging respect and acknowledgement that at the moment the Duke had the upper hand. At what was left to the imagination.

The Mage scolded himself. He had meant to put a tracer on Rihayne that morning, but had overlooked it in the lighthearted fun of bantering with her and her assistant. Now he faced seeing her in the grip of the High Inquisitor. Aimast K'Grun must have known who she was; why else would he be spending time with a woman who was, for all intents and purposes, merely a good baker?

He glanced over at the king's personal guards and nodded to the captain, signalling that he needed to take over for a moment as the king greeted his wealthiest nobles and allowed them to pawn over his magnificence. Once the captain was in place, the Mage slipped away and wove his way through the throng of people to where the Inquisitor and his prize were quietly conversing. It was still disturbing to the Red Mage the way people stumbled to get out of his way when he was moving past them, but he understood their fears. If he hadn't been who he was, he would have tripped over himself trying to avoid the legendary figure as well. His reputation was honestly earned; he had been as terrifying as the mother's had told their children, and he was possibly even worse then they knew.

Duke Liam was encouraging Rihayne to allow him to dance with her when the foreboding shadow fell across them. Red and black leather marked the nearness of the king's Red Mage, and his footsteps came to a standstill near Duke Liam and his escort.

"Ah, you honor us, good sir." Duke Liam inclined his head at the Mage. "To what do we owe your esteemed presence?" He nearly smirked at the anger simmering in the other man's eyes.

The Red Mage glared at the Duke. "Take Lady Rihayne home," he said quietly, "directly to her home, and leave her there safe and sound. Untouched."

The Duke grinned. "It seems as if you have a personal interest invested in this. Why do you care whom a Duke takes to dinner?"

"Do not toy with me. Do as you are told, Duke. We all have our reasons, do we not?"

Duke Liam seemed to straighten slightly. "I see." His fingers danced lightly on Rihayne's waist. "I suppose we must obey the Red Mage, lest we find ourselves skinned alive and lying on the ocean sands, hmm? The tyranny of the powerful strikes again." Some unspoken taunt was exchanged between the two men before the Duke nodded once. "It shall be done as you say."
 
Honestly, after seeing the expression on the Red Mage's face, and the way he glared at the Duke, she couldn't help but wonder (far in the back of her mind, out of reach of her more polite, well mannered self) if maybe he was angry at her for association more than anything. Maybe the Duke had invited her here because the Red Mage could tell she wasn't human and he wanted to thumb his nose at them. It was an unkind thought, especially considering how kind and solicitous the Duke had been to her thus far, but she couldn't help wondering. After all, lots of nobility regarded commoners as 'filthy, barbaric yokels' as one well born lady had commented (not that she'd ever condone it but if Kline had actually spit into her food like he'd said he was going to, Rihayne couldn't find it within herself to be angry with him) and it wasn't that uncommon a sentiment. She smiled a little at the Duke as he mentioned that she could wait to see the king later, when she was feeling a bit more courageous, though she hated to admit that she wasn't sure if she'd ever be that courageous. His apparent belief that the animosity directed towards her was fueled by jealousy more than outrage at her boldness in being here among such company was nice, but she didn't put nearly as much stock into it as he seemed to.

Every time she glanced towards the Red Mage she got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wouldn't mind at all if he'd just been dismissive, even rude to her. She didn't mind that nearly as much as the disapproving, almost scathing look of loathing that he sent their way and honestly, if it was jealousy on his part that made him look at her thusly for being there with Liam, she would be terrified for anyone that he ever developed a tendre for. They would live the rest of their mortal lives locked up in a tower probably, guarded by hellhounds (she always came back to the hellhounds, she had no idea why but the idea of them both terrified and fascinated her) to keep any other eyes away from something he selfishly guarded. She supposed it would be incredibly romantic for some women to be so fiercely and jealously guarded by a lover, but Rihayne was just frightened and nervous on behalf of the poor unknown woman who ever managed to catch his eye. If the Red Mage even had urges like that. Ohh dear heavens, here she was speculating on the love life of someone like that! He probably had a succubus summoned in his tower or something for things of that nature and she didn't even want to contemplate that. So lost in her thoughts that she was startled when the Duke asked her to dance.

"I...dance? Ohh dear, I never learned how! I mean, well not really at least. Nothing formal or fancy. I'd step on your feet, break every toe, it would be a bloodbath, I fear. You don't have to stay with me. I don't think anyone's paying the slightest mind to me now that the king is here." It would be monstrously unfair of her to monopolize all his time when there were so many people here he probably wanted or needed to speak to. He was being incredibly kind to her after she'd expressed how nervous she was but if she just stayed off to the sides and didn't draw any attention to herself, she should be perfectly fine. Entirely out of her depth socially speaking, even she couldn't mess up being a faded wallflower among such company.

And then the Red Mage was there, scowling at them and she felt her heart drop to her stomach, then shoot up into her throat, pounding like a war drum. She hoped he couldn't hear it, since if the sound irritated him too much she was fairly certain he'd just rip it out of her chest and then where would she be? The entire exchange between them left her head spinning. How did the Red Mage know her? She had been announced of course, but he hadn't arrived by that point, and she doubted anyone else had paid much attention to her to be able to tell him her name, if he'd have even bothered to ask. And he seemed to be insinuating... she blushed a bit at the untouched part. As if the Duke had any lascivious designs on her! She was almost angry, feeling rather like she were being made fun of, and it showed in the flush of her cheeks and the set of her jaw. Her fists clenched, and she was quite glad that she wasn't still holding the wine glass, otherwise she'd have snapped the stem and it was such lovely crystal and most likely far out of her price range.

Of course the Duke would acquiesce to the Red Mage. Everyone save the King and the High Inquisitor did. She didn't blame him, but she felt a hot flush of anger settle in her belly as she regarded the other man. Being skinned alive and left at the bottom of the ocean wasn't at all the way she wanted to pass on, so she said nothing, but there was little that could hide the hot, angry glare in her eyes. She didn't trust her voice and so instead bowed her head curtly to the Red Mage before turning to face the Duke once more, looking at him apologetically. "I truly didn't mean to cause any problem to you. I'm sorry. I suppose some people are more insulted by the lower class not knowing their place than others." She said, a slightly bitter tone to her voice.
 
"My dear, dear, Rihayne. You have nothing to be apologetic about." Duke Liam softly caressed the side of her sweet face and looked adoringly at her. "Those who wield great power sometimes forget that it is the people who grant them the power. It...goes to their heads. Oftentimes it is only a matter of an overly-inflated ego and very little self-worth, if you want my opinion." He smiled genuinely at her and reached down to lace his fingers through her own.

He slowly walked with her through the crowds, occasionally stopping to greet other guests. He always introduced his companion as Lady Rihayne, and he never acted like he was ashamed to have her on his arm. In fact, several of the other women, ones that might seem to Rihayne to be lovely and to have all that they could desire in their noble life, looked with envy upon her.

Once they were again in the Duke's personal carriage he invited her to sit next to him. "It's not wise to ride backwards in a carriage after drinking," he explained, "it tends to make you dizzier than is wise." He smiled at her in the soft magical light in their cab. "I hope you're not too disappointed in our evening. I was hoping to spend more time with you tonight." He seemed to study her eyes and her hair. His hand found hers and his fingers lightly traced the soft lines of the top of her hands. "These hands are magical, did you know that? They're strong yet feminine...creative and artistic. I'm certain that your boyfriend cherishes your hands almost as much as your smile."

Duke Liam raised his eyes to look deeply into hers. "I'm jealous of him, you know. The man that you love. I hope he knows what a wonderful woman he has in you."
 
She couldn't help blushing as his fingers stroked her cheek, the look in his eye enough to make her feel a little breathless. No one had ever looked at her like that. Ohh, of course she'd had men flirt with her, but she hadn't thought much of it. Even the homeliest of bar maids would have men catcalling them and well, she owned a store that catered largely to soldiers and laborers. It was to be expected. But the Duke...well, he didn't seem the sort to say things like that simply because she happened to be a female in his vicinity. It wasn an unusual, slightly nerve wracking thought, but one that made a little flutter burst to life in her stomach and she smiled bashfully as he laced his fingers through hers and reassured her that she had nothing to be sorry for.

They took their time making their way to the entrance and back to the carriage, and for every look of envy sent her way, she returned it with a sheepish smile, as if she was as disbelieving of her situation as the women who envied her were. She tried to be as polite and well mannered as possible, though her manners were nowhere near as polished as a woman raised in the upper echelons of society. She at least resolved to not cause him to regret bringing her here. The night was cut short, but she was at least going to be grateful that for a little while, she got to wear a beautiful gown and was referred to as a lady and had kept company with a handsome, charming man. It was easy to smile and be gracious when such a thing was true, and she wondered inwardly if this might be how princesses feel all the time. If that were the case, then it was no wonder they were all so lovely and charming in the fairy tales; who couldn't help but be lovely and charming when they had such things to look forward to?

But the fairy tale was over for the night, and even before the stroke of midnight, so she'd at least get home before her gown changed back into a baker's smock. It was bittersweet in a way; she had gotten to do something that few women in the world would ever be able to say they had done. She had attended a ball where the king himself was in attendance, and had done so on the arm of such a man as the Duke, who had been, in her estimation, to be the most dashing man she'd ever met outside of a childhood storybook. She settled down on the carriage seat beside him per his suggestion, not familiar enough with the effects of fine wine to want to risk becoming dizzy and embarrassing herself in front of him if her stomach rebelled in the middle of his lovely carriage. However, the idea that he thought she might be disappointed in how the night went was enough to make her head spin anyway and she shook her head quickly and offered him a bright smile.

"Disappointed? Ohh no! It would have been nice to stay a bit longer and dance, maybe. But I certainly can't be disappointed! It was a lovely time, even if I was worried I'd say or do something foolish and embarrass you." She smiled ruefully. "Or that the Red Mage or the king would sniff me out as not completely human and have me dragged off to the dungeon in chains. But...it was wonderful. Really, it was. I can't thank you enough for taking me out like this." She blushed as he studied her, feeling a little embarassed under such scrutiny, embarrassment that only compounded when he complimented her so extravagantly. Her hands were nothing special, at least not as far as she could imagine. They were a baker's hands, used to hard, steady work and tough from hot pans and wooden spoons and such things. She tried to keep from laughing a little as he mentioned being jealous of her boyfriend. However, she immediately regretted laughing, hoping he didn't get the wrong idea, and hurried to explain.

"Ohh, I don't have a boyfriend or anything of that sort. Too busy and just...well, hadn't met anyone that I fancied that way. One day though, you know? I'm sure I'll eventually meet someone, settle down, have babies. Everyone does, after all. It's the way of things." She smiled a little, looking up at him. "Do you have someone? A fine lady, perhaps? Or a princess maybe from some far away land? An elven woman, maybe?" She asked, curious about this mysterious lady that he undoubtedly had. Nobility, even the not so rich or attractive or kind, were usually betrothed to someone else of a noble house from the cradle almost; she couldn't imagine the Duke wouldn't have someone already, thought perhaps in another land because of the situation in the kingdom now. Probably a great beauty, accomplished and refined. Why did that thought make her stomach twist a little?
 
Duke Liam smiled at her laugh. It was delightful; young and innocent and full of surprised joy. In his line of work he heard many things from people, but a joyous laugh was rarely one of them. If they laughed in his presence it was a maniacal sound accompanied by great pain and loss of hope. He rather enjoyed the way Rihayne's voice sounded. Something in her open, self-depreciating manner pulled at his appetite and twisted the desires in his heart to possess her.

He found himself quiet pleased at her admission that she had no romantic interest. He had planned to become acquainted with her to gain access to her bloodline; a powerful and ancient family line whose blood could help the king achieve his goal of immortality. Nothing in the magic demanded that the source of the blood be pure...in that they be virginal. He smiled as she asked him about his own romantic pursuits. His eyes lowered as if suddenly shy and his golden lashes brushed his lightly tanned cheeks momentarily.

"No...I have no one." His eyes rose to meet hers. "I've always been too busy to think of such things. But, if it wouldn't displease you, Rihayne, I'd like permission to call on you again." His perfect lips curved slightly. "Tonight was meant to sweep you off your feet, I admit, but I fear I've failed in that respect. Maybe next time we can do something simpler. A simple meal, perhaps, by the river." He reached out and tucked a lose strand of her ear behind the dainty shell of her ear before stepping out of the cart and helping her down. The light inside her little shop still burned, and the faint dawn of the sky could still be seen in dark purple and reds against the sparkling lamp lights of the city. "I wish I didn't have to leave..." he looked up at her shop windows and the ones around her private apartments, "but it wouldn't be proper for me to visit you at home so late in the evening. Your neighbors might talk, and then the good reputation of your name might be soiled."

He took her hand and kissed her fingers. His lips were warm enough that the feel of them lingered upon her skin. "You honored me with your presence tonight. Thank you, my lady. It was more than I could have hoped for." His body moved closer to hers on the stoop of her shop. The hard heat of his form contrasted sharply with her soft and pliant body. "I will count the hours until I see you again."

He knew that the dress would stay intact for her, a remembrance of their first night together. He liked the idea that she might press it's fabric to her cheek later and think of him. Seduction was such a wonderful, powerful dance, and he loved the music of it. "Please, tell me that I can call on you again."
 
She would have never imagined someone like him could look shy, and if anyone had ever told him about a great, handsome mage noble sitting in a fine carriage could look so boyishly bashful because of something she said, she'd have told them quite forthrightly that they needed to see a healer as soon as possible, because they obviously had a broken skull. And yet, that was precisely what was happening. It seemed strange to her that he would have no one. He was wealthy, powerful, handsome, had lands and title...all things that would have made him an incredibly attractive catch to the giggling girls and their ambitious mamas who fluttered through court event after court event with the intention of ensnaring the unwary lord in their net. To have him tell her that not only was he not attached already but that he wished to see her again, and to make mention of so romantic a setting for them to meet as a picnic by the river was...well, it was something straight out of a silly novel for fluff-brained young women drunk on the idea of romance and happily ever after. Rihayne wasn't cynical about things; she looked forward to a happy, pleasant life with a family of her own, children and a husband and a fulfilling life in her parents' bakery. But the idea of a high and fancy lord calling on her and sweeping her off her feet was something she'd have never considered until tonight, and even still, in only the most incredulous terms.

She made a slight face as he mentioned her neighbors talking; like they didn't do enough of that already. They meant well, she was sure. But at the same time, they let their tongues wag abominably in regard to her parents and their absence, expressing their own concern for her, not realizing that it was scratching at fresh wounds to discuss the necessity of her family's flight from the kingdom. The elven lands were beautiful and lush, and her father was the son of a family of no small importance there, wealthy merchants or something she thought, not entirely sure since he didn't discuss his homeland often, but rather than have her parents in an ancestral estate in an exotic land, she'd have preferred to have them here, where she could enjoy their company. Perhaps it was unkind, but her neighbors expressing their happiness for her parents' good fortune in having a place to go struck her as a bit of a hollow comfort when they were separated by miles and ocean and months between letters.

His fingers tickling her ear jarred her thoughts back to him as he tucked her hair behind her ear and offered a hand to help her down. Of course, even that slight contact was more than she was expecting, and certainly more than she'd bargained for when she found herself pressed to his chest, her eyes wide and her breath frozen in her chest as she felt the warm, solid strength of him against her form as they stood on the front stoop of her bakery, her head swimming and vaguely aware that this would get tongues wagging far faster than just about anything else he could possibly do. It took her several tries to get the words out of her mouth, stammering out an acquiescence that yes, he could come call on her once more. She was on her tiptoes because of his height, her gown crushed against his clothes, his arms strong and hard and warm around her and her heart beating out a staccato rhythm against her rib cage. "I would...b-be very honored to have you...;have you call on me again, m'lord. I am honored and a little surprised by your regard. But..yes. I would very much like to see you again, if I may." She said, swallowing a little harder. This was not the sort of thing she was meant for. This sort of whirlwind romance wasn't anything remotely expected or prepared for. She couldn't help it though; it was a thrilling bit of fun and excitement in a life that had become very staid and boring over time.
 
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