Forever Crimson ((Dampylle and Vivid Fizz))

[Dampylle]

The king had called for a ball and had insisted all eligible ladies of the court were to be present. It was a known fact that the king felt his chief adviser needed to persue a proper bride. So it was that the manor where that lord resided was rife with activity. The ball would be underway by now but from the way servants bussled around these extravagant halls it was clear the man most thought to be the reason for the gathering had yet to even leave for the nobles court. In the master suite a man stood atop a small dias, a vision of masculine perfection with a noble and elegant visage and long flowing hair that seemed to shimmer like spun silver. Olive skinned maidens flitted around working on his attire... Black velvet with gold brocade was being altered, white silks with ruffles were just finished. A short while later when the women stepped away the man was revealed in garb that would rival even that of the king himself.

As the women left a wizened older man entered with a well muscled younger man at his side. Both sported olive skin and flowing hair as well as rugged mediteranian features. The younger man remained by the door dressed in the finery of a royal coachmen, the elder walked over to fasten the masculine visions flowing hair with black and gold silk ribbons as he spoke in a slight slavic accent, "Will the master be bringing a companion home this evening or should we plan for another private supper?" The noble shrugged ever so slightly then adjusted the ruffle of his cuffs as he answered in rich and rolling tones that seemed almost magical "The king will no doubt try once more with much insistance, but I have no interest in the wilting flowers of the court... We shall see I suppose." The wizened elder chuckled and straightened his masters coats with a practiced hand, "Ah we Roma know our master desires one with some of that old fire, and we wish only for your hapiness milord."

The elder stepped away even as his master stepped down from the dias. The younger man by the door bowed slightly before speaking with a similar slavic accent to the elder servant, "I have readied the Arabian's and the black carriage to match your attire sir... A messenger from the court arrived saying the ball is already underway as well, so the last stragglers should arive just ahead of us" The lord of the manor nodded his head ever so slightly to the young man who then lead him out to the front of the manor where a lavish carriage stood already prepaired with two black arabian stallions harnessed and ready. The carriage was made of the finest ebony and mahagony treated with dark laquers and golden trim, the harnessing was all laquered mahogony and fine leathers, and each stallion was clearly of the finest stock and easily suited for stud service. The young man helped his master into the carriage then climbed into his own seat and with a crack of the reigns the carriage was on its way to the king's ball.

 

[Vivid Fizz]

Babbette’s head was in a tizzy. This was to be her first trip to court. Her father was trying to arrange a quiet wedding instead of having her go through the mess and drama of the ton. But it seemed that King Charles the third would not be dissuaded this time. Babbette was to appear for everyone to see. It certainly was enough to make any sixteen year old girl’s thoughts spin brutally. So did the tightening of a corset.

Behind her Matilda, her maid, was pulling on the satin strings of her corset. Babbette held on to the post of her bed for support as the woman tightened. The air was taking right from her. The large and round orbs on her chest were pushed up and together, making a deep valley of ample cleavage. Two inches around her waist were taken in but it wasn’t as if she needed it. She was a naturally slim girl with rounded hips. Her maid had told her that she was very fortunate for that hour glass figure.

Quickly a yellow dress with a primrose was pulled over her head. It fitted perfectly over the corset and bright blue petticoat. Babbette wasn’t fond of the color yellow but, with her auburn hair and amber colored eyes, Matilda had said it would be best. Pearls lined the bodice and came in bows on the skirt of her gown. Her father had made sure only the most exquisite pearls had been strung on it. A small sapphire in a bezel setting hung from the strand of pears around her neck. It was all so very innocent. The maid then set to work on her hair, wiring it out on either end and fastening a yellow and blue ribbon on the right side. She pursed her lips. She wanted feathers, pearls, and jewels in her hair. That is what the ladies wore when they came into her father’s store.

But Matilda would not hear any of that though. It wasn’t proper for an unmarried girl to dress herself up in such a fashion. No. Babbette was to look fresh and virginal. Men liked girls who were sweet and innocent. Wilting flowers with nothing to say. Which wasn’t what Babbette was. Many times she had gotten in trouble. Finally a little make up was add, just some charcoal for the eyelashes, bismuth for the lips, and a little bit of rouge for the cheeks. It was the only thing Matilda relented on. A little bit of enhancing never hurt a girl, even if a young woman was not to ware any until she said her vows.

Finally she was push out the door and towards her father’s carriage. It was a simple thing of baby blue. It would not be the fanciest at the ball. In fact, it would probably be the most ragged. Her father was recently allowed in the court. The King, completely and utterly impressed with the man’s craftsmanship in jewels and fine metals, had given him the title baron. Her father beamed with pride that day and everyone who was anyone had started to come to his store to get things crafted.

“You are going to do fine!” Matilda said. “Just don’t open that mouth of yours.”

From inside the carriage, her father laughed. Babbette sighed as she was pushed into the vehicle. What was so terrible about a woman with intelligence? Who wanted to speak with a person who knew nothing but sewing and pianoforte and some French? Her father had grown up in a different time and had believed a woman smart and able and had made sure she had the best tutors to learn a plethora of subjects.

In silence the carriage sped away towards the event. Her heart raced. This was her first public appearance. The first time anyone of consequence was going to see her. It was a little nerve wracking. She nervously wrung her hands together and her father took them in his own. The ride slowed and their footman opened the door. In sweeping motions she was taken through the crowd of people. The ladies looked ravishing in their low cut, vibrant greens and reds and golds. The men looked beautiful as well. Every coat she saw had silver and gold embroidery and their stockings had little watches dangling from them.

It was in shock and awe that she was lead through the crowd and into the room where everyone was announced. She turned bright red when her and her father were announced. Every eye was on them and most looked appalled to see that a jeweler would be allowed to attend such a gala. Babbette sighed looked up at her father, whom looked just as regal as everyone else. Even more so because he was taking the scathing looks with dignity and grace. A smile was on his face as he lead his daughter through the room. Men looked in her direction with interest but she paid them no mind. She didn’t even realize she was getting so much attention.

 

[Dampylle]

The fog was rolling in as the evening became its own living breathing entity. That fog was in turn lit by the light of oil lamps set about the palace and its gardens. It was out of this swirling fog and into this hazy illumination that the extravagant black carriage came. The dim light glinted off gold trim as the fog swirled beneath ironshod wheels of laquered mahagony. The coachmen, the same well muscled and strapping youth who had readied the carriage and the horses, reigned in the Arabian stalions bringing the coach to a stop.

Those still gathered outside, be it for the night air or a simple smoke, fell silent as the coachmen lept lightly to the ground and opened the carriage door. The man who stepped from the carriage caused men to hold their breath and women to gasp quietly. His face was elegant perfection... Sharp angular features that seemed carved from alabastor, violet eyes that seemed to hold their own light and capture any who fell into their gaze. His attire was equally exquisite of course. His shirt glimmered as it was the finest white silk from the orient and its ruffle was of exquisite tailoring. His coat and trousers were the finest velvet trimmed with true gold brocade, the gold was finely spun and perfectly stiched. The chains and fastenings at his belt and along his coat were exquisitely crafted and bejeweled, they also adorned a rapier that hung elegantly at his hip gilded with finery. He was the equal if not superior of any noble garbed at the gala.

The last noble to arrive had already drawn hushed whispers, they only increased as he began his stride towards the doors. His stride was possessed of a grace that was simply supernatural as he seemed to almost glide rather than simply walk. As he passed women swooned, some even as they clung to the nobles they were wed or promised to, and men nodded with respect. The gaurds at the door went rigid and one scrambled for the heralds as the doors were opened to admit this singular figure of power and nobility.

Those gathered for the ball fell into a hush as horns were sounded. All eyes soon turned to the vision who now stood in the doorway bathed in the moonlight as it filtered in through the open doors. The heralds lowered their horns as one stepped forward and began to introduce the noble who seemed to draw all attention, "Introducing his lordship the Duke of Scotts, adviser to the King and Clergy, the Count of Chatue De'Romani, and Baron King of the Merchant Seas... Lord Mythrand Dragonasi Viovode of the Carpathians."

Mythrand let his lavender gaze scan those gathered here as was his habit. He was pleased that the heralds remembered the ancestoral honorific he insisted upon, even though the people here likely knew nothing of the Viovodes who ruled Romania for so long it was important in his eyes. Those very eyes then fell upon a buxom vision of a woman whome he had never seen before, her auburn hair framing a face of exquisite beauty with amber eyes and the sort of full lips that could lead a man to sin. The Duke smiled to himself though, being led into sin was hardly something he needed to worry about given all he had seen and done.

It took a moment before he was able to tear his eyes from the beauty to notice who had brought her. It was the very Baron who had crafted the exquisite chains Mythrand now wore. He glided through the hall, people seeming to part before him like water before the prow of a ship... Stepping aside as they sensed the potent aura that hung about him. He came to a stop before the skilled jewler and his daughter and bowed his head slightly before speaking in those rich and almost hypnotic tones of his, "Good evening Luois, I had feared I would be subjected to only mindless droning this night... I am glad I was wrong, though I must ask who this beautiful creature beside you is as I can not recall any vision that captured my breath so utterly." He reached out while waiting for an answer and took the buxom beauties hand lifting it to his lips with a dashing smile. He brushed his lips featherlight across the back of her hand before letting his gaze meet hers. His entrancing lavender pools meating her amber orbs as if drawn to them, his gaze then diving eagerly into the depths of her eyes.

 

[Vivid Fizz]

As the duke was introduced, the room almost went silent. Tones were brought barely to a whisper. Apparently this was some very important man though Babbette hardly paid attention. The drink in her hand was far more interesting than whoever was making their way down the stairs. Some young man had rushed to get it for her after he had asked a dance. Her father kept her card and it was filling fast. Or at least so he said. Babbette didn’t care. She wanted to play Blind Man’s Bluff and cards and all of the other more entertaining things that went on at a ball besides the pomp and politics.

There was another girl that took interest though. She was Babbette’s age and unmarried as well, but she wore her blonde curls up with rubies and pearls. Her makeup was drastic and she had two patches. Her gown was deep red and pearls and rubies hung from her neck. Her eyes were locked on the duke’s visage as went down the stairs. Camilla Daniela Juliet Devan had her future set on that man. Tonight he would have to notice her. The king had made this entire event for the Duke Dragonasi to find a bride. Or at least an interest outside of a few mistresses. Camilla knew that she would be the one that he decided upon. She was the most desirable woman of the court. A countess with wealth and a huge chunk of land as he dowry was always desired. Camilla just had the fortune of looking good.

Louis smiled as the Duke came towards them. The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled. He was older than what the age of his daughter would suggest. Having married late in life he did not have his wonderful daughter until the age of thirty and four. Now he was rounding fifty and was, by the era’s standards, an old man. Likewise, he had some conditions of age. In the last few years his heart had not been in the best of health. Though he kept that secret from his darling Babbette. Though, it soon came clear to what the duke was truly interested in. His eyes had a hard time tearing away from the beautiful youth.

“I almost did not come but, by royal decree, all woman of marrying age were to show and I would not leave my Babbette to this place a lone,” he said. It was no secret that King Charles III had a liking for women and Louis was no fool on the matter. A child left alone would be easy pray for any man. “This is my daughter Babbette Caroline Regina Do’trive, or Baroness Do’trive as she was introduced.”

Babbette looked up at mention of her name. Suddenly she was aware of the man standing so close to her father. There was a certain pull about him. It nearly made her spill her drink. The first thing she noticed was his eyes. That lavender color was truly beautiful. You have no use for them, she thought as she stared up at him, give them to me. She knew that her amber colored eyes, while rare and unique, were not the favored color of the ton. Blue or lavender were. At least that is what Matilda had said.

A bright flush crossed her cheeks as he brushed his lips against her hand. A hotness went all over her body and she was taken back by it. No matter how hard she tried she could not take her eyes off the man before her. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she replied in almost a whisper. She wanted nothing more than to duck behind her father and hide until the man went away. Like some child! Her brow furrowed. She was so disgusted with herself?

 

[Dampylle]

Mythrand never took his eyes from the lovely Babbette's amber colored pools. He knew that all this was arranged by the king to find him a noble woman as a proper pairing rather than indulge the rumors that painted him as having numerous mistresses. Though he already wondered if that ploy was all but ended as he gazed upon the tempting creature before him. So he decided to broach that very topic with the Baron Do'trive, "The king seems intent that I find a proper noble woman to court, and as this gem of yours has so entranced me good Baron Do'trive that I think his hieghness may just get his wish if you would grant me the honor."

The Duke finally managed to tear his gaze from the baroness' eyes, he often wondered how others felt under his own potent gaze... At that moment he firmly beleived he had a very good idea. He knew that very gaze would be his trump when it came to ensuring any rivals bowed out gracefully. He did wonder if some of the women would take offense at his quick decision, but none of them so much as caught his eye much less capture his attention as Babbette had.

He still held her hand, and so let his fingers lightly caress her slender wrist as he turned his attention back towards her... Though he was sure to divide it enough that the Baron was not excluded. He spoke once more in those rich tones that seemed almost hypnotic, "In fact let me ask formerly good sir. Would you grace me with the privalege of your beautiful daughters company that I might attempt to woo her properly? I am sure Charles would delight to hear I had found a pretty little thing occupy my attention."

 

[Vivid Fizz]

Louis was almost speechless with the brazen request. To think, his little angel caught the attention of the king’s most powerful aide. It was a rare thing indeed when the Duke make a comment on a woman’s beauty. Never before, even in jest, did he even tried to court a lady before. This was more than the old man could have hoped for! He smiled broadly.

Meanwhile Babbette was shaking as the man’s hand began to caress her wrist, a very intimate gesture of that era. One that sent the auburn haired beauty’s heart pumping. She managed to tear her eyes away from his and quickly pulled her hand back. What was this feeling over coming her? Was she really vexed so badly that a simple touch from a man would send her spiraling? No matter how hard she tried to stop herself, her eyes came back to rest on his. They shimmered with innocence and confusion. Any man worth his salt would find a fire burning there as well.

“Of course! Of course,” Louis said. “Babbette would be more than happy to accept your courtship. Dare I say it has been my greatest dream to see my little poppet in the hands of a respectable man, such as yourself.”

Babbette didn’t like where this was going however. Of course? Of course indeed! This man frightened. There was something about his gaze that was almost predatory and she did not like that in the least. She trembled and caught her bottom lip in her teeth, nearly scraping off the rough expertly painted there by Matilda. Slowly she shook her head. “Papa,” she said softly.

Louis continued on, “Now, she has many dances lined up for this evening but I am sure she would not mind making sure you got first dance, duke, as you are certainly the most important person here after his majesty.”

The young woman’s brow furrowed and she said, more curtly, “Papa.”

People were now starting to look on and whisper in between themselves. It was a rare thing that the duke would be so enamored with a lady. And, to be enamored with someone of a much lower station then himself was almost unheard of. Men craned their necks to see the girl who caught his attention so, for it was popular to like the woman that someone else did. Babbette wanted to glare at them all but simply continued to drink her punch, eyes now downcast.

“What is it Babbette?” he asked.

“I don’t want to be courted by him,” she said in a snap.

Louis paled. “You what?”

“Papa, I do not want to be courted by him. He has more gray hairs than you. I’ll be a widow within a year.”

Some of the crowd actually chuckled at the comment but Camilla was angry. That chit! She was the only woman the duke took remote interest in and she simply casted him aside like nothing. Every single woman of standing wanted the duke. That uppity little… little… frog!

 

[Dampylle]

The duke of course noticed the fire hiding in the depths of her amber eyes. He found that fire quite alluring in fact. Her barb did not worry him nor did the way she drew back, he noticed the flush of her cheeks and could tell there was more to her hesitance than she let on. He flashed a smile and nodded politely to Louis even as a simple dismissing wave silenced the crowd. His lavender orbs once more gazed deeply into her amber eyes as that rich and hypnotic voice rolled from his lips to her ears with a chuckle, "Do not fret so madam, the silver glint of my hair is a strange quirk of my bloodline not a sign of age."

He took a single step closer once more grasping her hand and flashing her a truly dashing smile as his eyes dove into the depths of her firey amber orbs. He could tell she was no wilting flower, and that fire coupled with her ample charms was enough to make up his mind. He leaned a little closer so his breath played warmly across her skin even as those rich mesmerizing tones whispered into her ears, "after all aside from my flowing silver lockes you can not deny I look as virile as any man here... Though no flower here comes close to your beauty Baroness." his fingers traced lightly once more along her slender wrist as he stood straight once more and adressed Luois loud enough that those who heard Babbette would hear him as well, "Baron Do'trive I find the ladies fire intoxicating, Rest assured your desire is the same as mine... Though I must asuade the Baroness' concerns and let her speak to me of them more freely... Mayhaps a walk through the kings private garden would be to her liking"

He turned his focus fully upon Babbette once more, stirr caressing her wrist, and once more leaned closer to whisper softly to her alone. His rich tones holding a slight hunger to entice as they slipped into her ears like so many whispers of the wind, "I would simply adore the chance to let you speak more freely away from these stuffy old men and wilting flowers... Please grant me a breif dalliance that we might talk milady." Mythrand was sure to stand just close enough that she could see how the cut of his attire hinted at the powerfully sculpted physique beneath and the perfect complexion of his smooth alabaster skin. He knew she was quick and intelligent and wanted her to see the subtle proof of his claims.

 

[Vivid Fizz]

Her eyes widened. The duke was being really very forward with her. Even with so many around he stepped in close to her, let his breath play on her skin, and took her hand once more. Every move was intimate and made her flush brightly. All of the other men weren’t that demanding. They had kept their distance and simply waited to be jotted down on her card before going off. She would have taken her hand back once more if his voice hadn’t completely and utterly ensnared by his gaze and his words. There was something about him that was strange… almost off. The maiden could not put her finger on it.

Louis on the other hand was watching the scene with more and more interest. The duke certainly worked fast when he saw something he wanted. For as long as he had known of the noble, that was how he went about things. It concerned him slightly. The jeweler did not want his most precious gem to be compromised in any way. Though when he said he liked his Babbette’s fire loud enough for people to here, a smile crossed his lips. That statement would make things much more easy for the girl.

Babbette didn’t want to go alone. These feelings frightened her. He frightened her. He was strong and powerful. She knew that rebuking him a second time would mean ruin for her father and herself. To scorn such a man openly… she shivered with the thought.

“Of course, dear duke,” she managed softly before letting herself be lead off through the room and to the garden.

Camilla fumed as she watched the two leave. Between her clenched fists, her fan snapped in half.

 

[Dampylle]

The duke smiled and then in a surprisingly gentle manor took Babette's arm in his to formaly escort her towards the kings garden. Gaurds stood by the entrance and would normally turn nobles away without a second thought. But when they saw Duke Dragonasi they bowed and unlocked the ornate door and the gate beyond to usher him and babbette into the lavish private garden. They also locked the gate and door behind the pair as was their normal practive, the king insisted the garden remain private.

The Duke had taken this oppertunity to more fully take in the vision of beauty on his arm. He could not recall any woman so enticing in many an age. So he led her into the depths of the private garden letting his presence was over her as they walked for a time before finally speaking in those rich honeyed tones of his, "well milady here we are away from arrogant men and thier wilting flowers... I must confess your fire and intellect are a quality I find enticing."

He turned to face her more fully taking her hand elegantly in his as he moved, his grace making it seem almost like a dance as he let his eyes wander back to hers. Soon they were again gazing into one anothers eyes as he spoke, "It is why I have shunned those women in fact. I assure you I am no where near as frail as you seemed to fear and would very much like to know you better. Or do you truly find me so unappealing that you would refuse my company outright?"

He stepped a bit closer once more, his motions still elegant perfection and powerful strides. He let his aura was over her hoping to show her he was not frail by any means. In that motion he also brought her hand back to his lips while his other settled enticingly upon her waist. It was a subtle dance meant to show his grace and strength even as he observed the fiery beauty in his arms.

 

[Vivid Fizz]

Of course Babbette did not think he was frail or even too old. Men with dark hair normally grayed early and even so, he had said that his hair was a trait commonly found in his family line. It was probably a very light blonde color that had been bleached by the sun. Even so, she could not help but feel a little afraid when the door closed behind them and was locked by the guardsmen once more.

They were completely alone. This was scandalous. Even the sweet and innocent Babbette knew that she could get in a lot of trouble. The duke could spread rumors very easily. Not that he needed to; the girl thought, the people of the court were no likely gossiping about this. Her reputation would be all be ruined! But she knew better than to have refused this man strait out. So, there she was, in the garden being held by a strange man.

He spoke of her fire and how enticing it was. Perhaps he saw her more of a mistress than a wife. That sent her blood boiling, red and hot. What did he expect from her? That she was going to let him have anything he wanted from her. She took in a harsh breath and was about to tell him exactly how she felt but she was lost in his eyes. There was something cruelly memorizing about them. It was like he was casting a spell on her. A coo escaped her lips and she felt her head started to swim.

Quickly she snapped out of it and she pulled away, completely unable to escape his grasp. “No-no. Well, I did not think you were frail or old. In truth, I thought you were an albino. Dear duke, if I am to have children, I want them to at least be presentable to the public.”

A barb. A very stinging bard. She decided that it would be best to change the subject. In haste she added, “This garden is lovely. Its no wonder the king keeps it under lock and key.”

 

[Dampylle]

Mythrand of course noticed the coo to her voice, the flush to her cheeks, the way she shuddered ever so slightly in such a delightful way. He noticed the way she tried to pull away but also that she did not struggle further after that first pull. He gave her a dashing smile that would make many a woman swoon as he realized she was trying to offend him because she founds her passions enflamed.

He let the fingers of one hand trace the slender curve of her waist as the other once more teased her delicate wrist. Still giving her that dashing smile he let roll those rich and enchanting tones once more, "mayhaps you should take a good long look at me milady, as I somehow doubt any child of my line would be such that you would need worry." Mythrand began to stride about the garden still holding the Baroness to him, making their stroll into a rather enticing dance.

Her firey temperment only served to further entice Mythrand. She was not some wilting little flower to be paraded about as a trophy. No the Baroness Babbette Do'trive was a true woman with the sort of strength and passion he so craved. He would not be trying to bed her like some wanton mistress, no she was one he would truly persue.

He continued that enticing dance in the garden for a few more moments before he decided to speak once more, "Indeed though his highness seems imply a wish that I would tend to his as often as my own." As he ended the last spinning step with an elegant flourish thet sent his hands sliding elegantly up along her side and down along her arm. He continued that flourish slipping behind her, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered softly into hear ear, "I must confess my dear Baroness, never before have I met a woman with the fire and intellect to hold my interest. But you are no wilting flower, no passing interest. You are the kind of gem a man could gaze upon for eternity and never tire."

 

[Vivid Fizz]

Babbette did not want to look at him any more! She knew that he was not terrible to look at. In fact the duke was an exceptional example of masculine beauty. His face was angelic, like one of the great masters had carved it out of the finest and whitest marble. His body was very much like his face; chiseled. And his hair! There was something about it that was like the most delicate silver brocade. She bit her lip, unable to turn away. Her very breath caught and her head swam.

Finally, thank the lord, he decided to walk again. There was an uncharacteristic silence from her. All she could think about was the feelings starting to build and swirl inside of her. The garden, in all of its splendor, was completely lost now on the young woman. She was concentrating on the fact her heart was beating so hard that it was pounding against her temples.

She hardly noticed that he slipped behind her. It wasn’t until his lips brushed against her ear was she snapped out of her haze. A ripple went through her body. His words were stroking and confident and sent thoughts no young woman should be having. This was going so fast! Too fast. They had just met and they were already in a secluded place with their bodies so close.

“Duke,” she said sharply. “You have a silver tongue, that is for sure, but I was warned about men with sweet lips and hasty hands. A cad is what you are painting yourself out to be.” Though did she believe it? Her breathing was becoming shallow and fast and her face burnt. What was happening to her? Was she mad?! Bedlam would be a fine place for her now. Where else would a slattern like her go? The beautiful baroness could not pull herself from his arms. No matter how much she bade her body to move, it simply stay put.

"Now let me go before I scream." There was no weight to the words and it was quite clear that she would not make a scene.

 

[Dampylle]

Mythrand could not help but notice the way the Baroness' ample chest heaved or the rosy blush that spread across her flawless skin. He also heard the faint quiver of desire lurking in her tones and the hesitance in her limbs to move away from him. It was surprising to see, he could sense immense passion burning within the amazing beauty but she seemed afraid of her own fire so to speak. He took a single step back but responded with a throaty chuckle, "Milady my hands are many things but hasty is not something they have been called in the past."

He began to walk back around to face the incredible vision who so captivated him already. As he moved his strong and deft fingers brushed across her neck in a featherlight caress. His breath caught as he viewed her more fully, her skin flushed and her large bosom beginning to heave with her apparent desire... The slight tremble to her full and pouty lips, the fires that smoldered in her eyes as if only now awakening.

As he came to face the buxom and breathtaking Babbette once more, he found his eyes drawn again to her amber gaze. There was something about her fiery gaze that seemed to ensnare him. His own hypnotic lavender orbs gazed deeply into hers, a radiantly dashing smile spreading across his lips without the Duke even realizing it as he spoke with those rich and enchanting tones of his, "I am no cad madam, unless being entranced by a passionate woman with an actual mind and spirit makes me such."

He again took that single step towards the Baroness. Once more they were close enough to embrace should they concede to their passions, and his burnt every bit as fiercely as hers seemed to. He spoke again softly his words seeming to drift to her ears alone, "I do not think you will call out madam, you quake with the same feelings you stir in me... If succumbing to your fire and beauty makes me a cad... Then what of you mon cherie, who tempts me so and seems to burn with the same passion?"

 

[Vivid Fizz]

Her whole body was shaking. From worry. From lust. From the fear of what her own body was telling her. Babbette was a girl who was fiery with passion. His hand against her neck felt wonderful. Too wonderful. Her head spun and she felt as if she were falling into a pit of her own passions. Quickly she muttered under her breath a few Hail Marys but they did little to alleviate the sensation. She tried to look away. This man was some sort of snake charmer. A rascal. A rough. A rake. He was what ever would be the thing to make her mad at him.

He mocked her! She looked at him openly full of wrath and many other nasty things that a proper lady wouldn’t dare shoot at a man of such standing. Was he insinuating that she was some common harlot?! Her face was now completely red, as was her chest. The blood was rushing around in her ears and her whole body was shaking badly now.

She dropped her fan and her eyes narrowed on him. How dare he! How dare he make her feel like a woman of the night. Babbette was a Baroness and the daughter of a renown jeweler. It was beyond insulting what he said. Was she to take it? How much would she have to endure to keep her family in good standings with the King? There was a point where she wouldn’t be able to take any more of this!

“What does that make me?” she parroted. Her eyes were widened in bewilderment. “What does that make me? I am Baroness Do’trive and nothing more! I have no passion, no fire for you! I have just met you! To flatter yourself so is beyond delusional.

Without her thinking her hand went up to strike his face.

 

[Dampylle]

The duke was far more versed in posture and stance as it pertained to bettle than any in the court realized. But then again how could any of them hope to realize that the vision of masculine beauty that enthralled them so had seen decades if not centuries of bloodshed. So it was that Mythrand saw the way the baroness shifted her weight, the way her arm tensed, the many subtle signs that said she was preparing to strike him. His reaction was like quicksilver though and in the blink of an eye he had caught her slender wrist in his deft yet powerful hand. Even as he caught her wrist though he was flowing with the motion of her strike, with such grace that he made even this seem a dance he twisted them both around until the luscious beauty was pinned to a wall even as he held her in a gentle yet undeniably powerful grip.

Mythrand was surprised by her reaction. But that could not prevent him from seeing how her massive bosom quaked with want, the way her perfect pout quivered with desire, or the way her passion made the makeup upon her cheeks utterly obsolete as her perfect skin flushed in such a tempting manner. He also saw the conflict in those captivating amber eyes. He began to realize that she was afraid, but she had enough interest to follow him here without complaint. Could she truly be that afraid of her passions?

Mythrand leaned in just a bit, his breath playing delicately across her supple skin. He held her firmly and managed to focus even through the distraction of her lush figure now pressed ever so lightly against his own chiseled physique. He spoke softly in those rich and melodic tones of his, "Milady... I suffer no delusions and it is all I can do to resist the lovely flush of your supple skin, the heaving of your bountiful bosom, and most of all the quiver of your perfect cupids bow... I see the fear and worry in your captivating amber pools Baroness. I think you may fear your passion even as you try push me away with your sharp mind and intellect."

He let his fingers caress her delicate wrist where he still held it, his breath playing across the swanlike column of her throat as he spoke. Weather we wanted it to or not Mythrand could not stop his aura from flairing with the passions that the baroness stirred in him. His voice poured softly into her ears as he continued, "But I do not fear your passion or fire Baroness Do'trive, and your intellect and wit only draw me like a moth to flame... I find you truly captivating."

It was at that moment that his control slipped. Weather it was the way her bosom heaved or her lips trembled did not matter in that moment. The last breadth of space between them vanished as Mythrands lips captured the delectable pout of the beauty in his arms. It was a firm kiss that grew more heated even as he felt his own passions flare from that simple contact. Soon the Duke found himself attempting to part the Baroness' lips and make this kiss even more heated and intimate.

 

[Vivid Fizz]

There was no fighting it. He moved her about like a rag doll. All of her struggling was amounted to absolutely nothing. The duke was a powerful man physically. That thought annoyed and sent a tingle excitement through her. Deep down she liked the assertiveness and she liked that she was completely helpless in his arms. It disgusted her mentally or she pretended it did at least. Her anger boiled more as she was pinned roughly against the wall. Her eyes flashed and smoldered as she glared contemptuously at the nobleman.

He spoke of her passion. Her face paled slightly as she listened to his words. Had her body really given off all of those signals without her realizing? Her lusts were easy to read and she was ashamed that she came off so lewd. The behavior was unbefitting of any lady. The Duke Dragonasi seemed to enjoy it though. She noticed certain things about him, too. Like the way he purposely let his breath play across her skin and the way he pressed against her body.

Thrills went through her and passion clouded her mind. Something warm and inviting had encased her and muddled her head. All she wanted now was him. Her breathing became more shallow and his words were completely lost to her in this state. Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers.

A fire erupted within her and threatened to burn her completely! Babbette began trying to free her wrists from his grasp but, as the kiss deepened, she melted in to it. Her mouth slid open as his tongue prodded past her lips. That warmth now filled her and shot strait from her loins, making a dull throb between her legs. Her own tongue wrapped around his and she began to massage it roughly.

It felt good. Perhaps too good but she couldn’t stop herself. Sin or no, her body now controlled her actions.

 

[Dampylle]

Mythrand was beyond pleased as the baroness melted into his kiss. He pulled the beautiful Babbette closer to him as their kiss grew more heated and passionate. He was pleasantly surprised when not only did she part her full and pouty lips but her own deft tongue joined his. Her fiery passion only served to fan the flames of his own desire. He kissed her roughly and with obvious hunger as he released her hand in order to pull her tightly to him.

In all his years he had never felt his passion stirred so powerfully by a simple kiss. There was something about the baroness that ensnared and enflamed him so. It was not just her considerable beauty, though said beauty was beyond question. No there was some unseen quality to the passionate woman that he could not resist. So instead he found himself submitting to that allure.

One hand found its way up to caress her neck and pull her fully into that intensely passionate kiss. Meanwhile the other gripper her waist at the hip, such an intimate embrace but it felt so natural with the baroness in his arms. He lost himself to that embrace and so had no concept of how long it had lasted when he reluctantly parted his lips from hers in a hungry gasp, "Mon Cherie... Your lips are like the most intoxicating of wines... I fear that I may be unable to resist your allure"

He leaned down to brush his lips along the delicate column of her throat. No longer able to settle for simply teasing he kissed softly along her neck and shoulder. The hand that held to the back of her neck slid down her back then up along her side slowly creeping towards her heaving bosom. His hand stopped just short of her massive bust though as he spoke between kisses, "My delightfully tempting Baroness... Be my woman... Let me shower you with all you deserve... I would gladly spend each and every night courting you milady."

His hands ached to move higher, as if drawn to her full bosom... Even as his lips lingered ever longer upon her skin. He found his attentions drifting towards the valley of her enticing cleavage as he awaited some form of response from the only woman to ensnare him so, the beautiful Baroness Babbette Do'trive.

 

[Vivid Fizz]

Babbette’s first kiss was not the kiss of an innocent virgin. There was no sweetness or fumbled words before and after. This embrace was full of lust and want and desire. It made her blood race and the throbbing between her legs turned into a ruthless pounding. More. That is what the little Baroness wanted. Without any fight she tilted her head up as he peppered her neck with kisses. Goosebumps followed his skilled lips and she nearly fell limp in his grip.

He stopped and asked her to be his. Her body had decided that for her. Babbette knew full well what she was going to say. Any sort of resistance now would have seemed foolish. There was no way the pair would be seen anyway. At least not in the King’s garden.

“Of course,” she replied softly. “I want to be able to see you more and be around you more.”

It was a silly admission. One that reflected that she was still naïve in the ways of passion. Such an embrace had only been in her most restless nights, with dreams that had her awaking to her touching the place between her legs with ardent strokes. This was new and exciting. But she still wanted to touch herself. She wanted to be touched.

“Please,” she begged as his hand glided up. “Please, touch me.”

Her tone was desperate.

 

[Dampylle]

Mythrand smiled, though the smile was not without hunger as Babbette had fanned the flames of his desire. Her answer was all he could have hoped for. Not only was the ravishing beauty in his arms agreeing to the courtship, but was in fact eager to spend time with him. But that did not prepare the Duke for what she said next. So forward, it was quite aggressive on her part and that actually enticed him. The desperate tone in her voice as she plainly asked for more, was simply to much for him to resist.

So his hands slid higher, soon cupping and caressing Babbette's bountiful bosom through her gown. At the same time his kisses trailed further towards the deep chasm of her enticing cleavage as he answered in a voice that dripped with his own want and desire, "I can not refuse such a request mon cherie... After all I must see to the wants and needs of my woman." His caresses became rougher and more dominant till he was openly groping her delectable orbs through her dress, his thumbs rubbing her nipples through the fabric as he kissed hungrily at her bosom.

But it was that desperate tone of hers and the secluded garden that prompted the next advance. He could tell they both wanted more and knew they would not be disturbed. So those deft hands of the Dukes soon worked to free the Baroness' massive breasts from her dress. It took several moments of intense groping, caressing, and well placed tugs... But soon her large milky orbs were free of her gown. His hands were quick to resume the fondling and caressing of her now exposed bosom. Likewise it was mere moments before his kisses trailed over the swell of her heaving breasts and his lips finally captured one of her delicate nipples. He began to kiss, lick, and nibble at that sensitive nub even as his hands worked her bountiful chest and he began to pinch and pull lightly at her free nipple.

Mythrand lost himself to their shared passion. He was a man consumed by desire as he hungrily devoured her full breasts. He eventually moved his lips to her other nipple to give it the same treatment while his fingers began to work his hardened nipple rolling the still moist nub a little more roughly as he growled with passion, "As sweet as your lips are my dear... Your bosom is sweeter still... No other has ever enflamed me like this mon cherie, I could spend the whole night thus and never tire."

 

[Vivid Fizz]

A bright flush rose to her cheeks as he began to fondle her wonderful breasts. They laid heavy in his hand as he openly groped her. Babbette bit down harshly on her lip to keep her sounds of urgency from getting too loud. What was happening? This was all going so fast… too fast. His lips traveled downwards as they kissed over the beautifully rounded flesh. A hotness spread over her body from the attention.

There was no stopping her loud cry as he pulled the material of her gown down, popping her breasts free from the corset as he did so. The cool night air made the rosy mounds harden. She opened her eyes to look as his mouth traveled down her now exposed bosom. She let out a sharp gasp as he clamped his mouth down on one while the other was being roughly pulled.

Moans, throaty and loud managed to issue from her bitten lip. It felt so wonderful. The lovely Baroness could not keep her wits about her as his mouth claimed her chest. His mouth and had switched places. By the time he lifted his head up, she was a quivering mass of pleasure. Her mind was clouded completely by her lusts. She did not know which way was up and why she was letting him do this in the first place. But that didn’t matter. Her body knew why and her body wanted more still.

“Please,” she begged again. There was a slight whimper to her tone. “More. Harder. I want to feel it more than before.”

Her legs spread a little to allow him to press more against her body.

 

[Dampylle]

Mythrand was again surprised by how urgent and demanding the baroness was becoming. He would have never expected her to be this eager or possessed of a seemingly insatiable appetite for such sinful pleasures. He graced her with a wolfish smile to encourage her demands, unlike most of the time a forward and passionate woman only enflamed his desire more. So he let his tongue flick at her hardened nipples as he pulled her possessively against him. His firmly muscled leg managed to slip between her spread thighs as she parted them so he was soon pressed against her fully. His own desire was no doubt apparent from the sizable bulge that now filled his trousers.

His voice held a bit of a lusty growl as he spoke between his attentions, which now consisted of actually biting and suckling at her rosy nipples as his hands roughly worked the orbs of soft flesh that now overflowed his grip, "You need only ask mon cherie... I could never refuse demands to pleasure your exquisite form." Mythrand began to practically devour her magnificent bosom and even guided her delicate hands to his own physique encouraging her to act on her own passion as well.

He was lost to the moment even as he marveled at how passionate and demanding she was becoming. It was more than accepting his advances, she demanded more and seemed to shift into poses designed to fan the flames of his desire. He began to wonder if once she did accept her desires he would stand any chance of resisting her oh so ample charms. It was with such thoughts on his mind that he twisted and pinched the Baroness' hard nipples and muffled her cries with a deeply passionate kiss.

 

[Vivid Fizz]

The lady Babbette was slipping further and further into that pit of pleasure he was causing. Her body arched to meet his lips as he bit down hard and suckled at her nipples without mercy. It felt so wonderful, so amazing. He moved her hands to his body and she moved them up and down on his chest, moving quickly down until her hands was caressing the sizable lump that was growing still.

It wasn’t until the passionate kiss did she come to herself again. Gently she pulled her mouth away from his and quickly snatched back her hand. Cloudy amber eyes cleared and she looked up at him. The confusion was plain to see on her beautiful features. How did he get her to be so brazenly wanton? Normally she was so much more reserved than this.

“Duke,” she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Dear Duke. I do not understand… how did this happen? I…”

Her words fell short. Guilt filled her at the sight of her bared bosom. This was the first time she let herself be compromised. So easily, too. It just took him pushing her against a garden wall to set her off. This was a horrible turn of events. One that felt unbelievable and simply was amazing. There was a perfectness in their heated exchange. It just felt right for him to be all over her, like an animal.

 

[Dampylle]

The Duke groaned into the kiss when her hand found his swelling manhood. As she broke the kiss he too managed to slowly reign in his passions though it took some doing. He was slightly short of breath and absentmindedly licked his lips as he fully noticed the Baroness' state of undress. He first caressed her cheek tenderly placing a stray strand of her auburn hair behind her ear as he answered, "I am not entirely certain my dear Baroness, I know only that we became rather entangled... And then we seemed to loose control, though there something so very primal about it."

He leaned in to brush his lips softly against those of the Baroness. His hands came up to gently cradle and caress her full breasts as he slid her impressive bosom carefully back into her corset and gown. He slowly withdrew his lips once more and took her hand gently in his own as he spoke softly, "Though I do pray you will grace me with your company again as you said.... I do earnestly wish to know the fiery and intelligent beauty before me better."

He took a step back and straightened his own attire before once more taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. He let his lips linger elegantly upon the back of her hand marveling still at how she affected him. He used those few moments to settle his passions and gather his faculties before speaking formally in those rich and musical tones of his once more, "So would you, Baroness Babbette Do'trive, do me the great honor of allowing me the pleasure of your company that I might lavish upon you the attentions you so clearly deserve... Might you accept this humble Duke's request to court you properly?"

 

[Vivid Fizz]

The Duke’s answer did not completely make Babbette understand but it was something. At least she could blame it on her more primal desires. Giving it a name made it easier for her to push aside. The guilt grew as he fondled her before putting her back into her gown. What would her father think if he found out? His little angel had let herself be suckled upon and have hands put on her. The beautiful baroness felt like a common whore.

Yet she could not help but smile when he took her hand and his words soothed her. Yes. She would like to be courted properly by him. The man was completely irresistible and made her feel things that she never thought even existed. What interesting emotions the Duke stirred within her. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. Though now that he offered her a proper courtship, she saw no problem with exploring such brazen desires.

“Dear Duke,” she purred. Her voice was honeyed and dripped with untold lusts. “I would be more than willing for you to properly court me. If it leads to a marriage that is. You have already sampled from my garden and I fear I am ruined for any other man.”

 

[Dampylle]

Mythrand could not help but smile at her answer. He also could not imagine letting the Lady Do'trive wed any other. She stirred in him passions more intense than he could put into words. But she also had a fire that burned beyond the bedchambers, a fierce mind and sharp wit. Never before had Mythrand Dragonasi honestly considered marriage but as he held the hand of the lovely Babbette it seemed the most natural of ideas.

He gently pulled her to him, still smiling as he did so, and caressed her cheek tenderly. The purr to her honeyed tones threatened to wake his desires again and he understood all to well their meaning. He gazed into those enchanting amber eyes of hers as his thumb played across her full lips as he answered in his own rich tones letting his hunger be heard in them as he spoke, "No other has ever enflamed me so mon cherie, and rest assured that no other has even garnered a passing interest from me."

Mythrand leaned in to once more brush his lips lightly across Babbette's. Yes he would court her and in time he would make her his bride. He growled playfully as his lips parted from hers again and then continued, "mmm and having sampled from your garden my sweet, I am quite certain no other will do.... You have ruined me for those sad wilting flowers."

The duke held her to him and wrapped his arms around her savoring the feel of Babbette resting in his arms. He wondered if further dalliances with their heated passions lay in the near future, the way her tone dripped desire did seem to promise many such moments after all. So he smiled wolfishly and let his eyes roam his intended openly taking in every promise of her sinful curves. Finally he spoke again with a rich and husky tone, "Shall I seal this promise to my intended with a kiss? Or shall we return now to formally announce our decision and save the kiss for another time?"