Royal Playtoy (Alexander and SunnyFairview)

His hand slipped open, and the dice fell onto the table, tumbling across the surface as if they were a child's set of marbles. This was his last roll of the day, he had already won the game, it was just a question of by how much, and how great a reward he would take away from his opponents. When the dice settled, it was a middling result, but he would take it. He had the opportunity to double his winnings with a lucky pair, but he also could have seen his profits quartered, something that his rivals would have greedily hoped for. In the end, they paid out their share each to the newcomer, but the looks in their eyes made him aware in no certain terms that he might be best moving along, rather than enjoying some of his newfound coin on a drink from the serving lady.

He saw their point of view, a nobody showing up, interested in joining their game, and then winning it quite handily. He hadn't cheated, no, but that might have just been because it hadn't come down to that, the dice already acting favorably towards them. So, he pulled his brown boots tight, well worn from a few hundred miles of walking, distinct in its shape from travel compared to a native, who only ever wandered through the streets of the town, at worst getting a bit dusty from a short trip through the fields. Once he had prepped, he was off, to the other gamblers' satisfaction, but he had not made it quite through the establishment's door before he found himself confronted. It felt wrong, he hadn't even done anything to provoke attention towards him, at least, not yet he hadn't. Perhaps there was some law that he was not aware of? Regardless, a pair of uniformed, and obviously armed men stood in front of him.

"Out of the way. We're looking for the pri..." The speaking man trailed off, before changing his wording. "There's somebody in here that we mean to find. Who was the last person to enter?" To the gambler's relief, it wasn't him that they were looking for. Some prisoner escaped, he assumed, but it wouldn't do well for them to admit that. Despite them not being interested in him, he set his jaw, and his mouth curled at the question. "Ain't nobody who came in here after me." He lied, almost out of habit. He knew very well that five people entered and three exited, while he was in the middle of his rolling. He only paid attention long enough to measure up that none of the new visitors seemed like they'd be interested in joining him for a game of chance. His tale then became a little taller. "A folk came down a moment ago, rushing from the left. A lot more polite than you were, but even fer 'em I didn't budge. So y'see, since I ain't backin' up right now, that'll be yer job by the way, you can sure bet no bumpkin lesser'n you made it past and into there." Manners were not his strong suit, but somehow pestering authorities was another nature to him that he had developed.

The left-hand guard sighed, not quite prepared to deal with such a disrespectful fellow, but the one on the right was a little more intolerant. "What's your name, lowly man? I have a feeling that I might need to commit it to memory if you've got a tongue like that." In response, he lifted the brim of his feathered cap up, letting the tiniest bit of his blonde hair fall down, and allowing them to get a good look at his brown eyes. He was way too immature to fix his attitude enough to avoid trouble, but there wasn't any good in looking like a sneak to inquisitive authorities. "Daxton." They waited for a last name, but his lips gave them no more on that matter. "Now misters, I've got places to be, and you two are in-between me and there." He put a hand on each of their shoulders as he measured them up, one a tad squattier and stockier than the common man, and the other a few hair above him at approximately six feet. They found themselves walking backwards as he butted himself between them and guided them away from the door.

It wasn't all a game or an act to him. Nobody inside the building was surprised by the regulars tossing their ivory cubes for fun and entertainment, but Daxton wasn't exactly sure that gambling was legal in this town, and he wouldn't risk a set of sore losers ratting him out. He did turn his head back to take another peek inside, though, curious about which of the patrons in there was the one escaping. None of them gave off an outlaw vibe, and the most fiendish looking one in there had been himself, actually, what with the marks on both sides of his hands, which seemed to intimidate some people. They were actually of a most benign nature, quite customary in his home, which was admittedly a long way from here. His voice sounded off fainter and fainter inside, as he led the men away, and he didn't stop chatting his mouth off with some nonsense. "B'tween you 'n me, actually, I boasted to the lady that I'd buy a cup or two for the next one that walked in, but you two probably wouldn't sip it well if you're in the middle of a hunt..." Soon enough, he could no longer be heard at all.

It was cramped in the broom closet that she chose to hide in, but the sounds of the guards that were walking past here was slowly growing more faint. Seraphina Westwood, princess of the realm Oshar, was on the prowl. It wasn't the first time, it wouldn't be the last time and she certainly did not want to be caught now, of all times. They had only reached their country mansion, attached to a port city. Not the port city, but it was still large and it was a big deal when the royal family came to town. Seraphina pressed her ear against the door, and smiled. Coast was clear.

Slipping out of the closet, she took a few looks around before lifting the skirts of her dress and running. The tapping of her leather padded feet reached her ears, and she let out a soft sigh. She was never going to be able to tell her own footsteps from the guards. Not right now, at least. Give it a few more trips and she would be an expert again. The young princess, while an adult by all means, was rather restricted when it came to her own freedom. In order to even slip out today, she had to sweet talk her lady-in-waiting to lend her her Sunday dress, simply because the princess' garb was too royal and noticeable for her to roam to the market like she wanted. The dress itself was quite pretty, and she made a mental note to make sure that the soft fabric, dyed as blue as the sky and clung tightly against her petite figure, made it through this adventure in one piece.

She had to stop her job as she reached the gates of their estate, her hand brushing against it as she panted. She wore her corset still, she forgot that she still had the blasted contraption on, but that might have been the only way she could've fit into this dress. It kept her breasts, massive and bouncy and a lot of fun in her opinion, tight to her body, although till large. But it also meant that the tight dress could fit on her body. The short princess sighed. A walk would take place for the rest of it. But she didn't need to worry until later, when the night guard came out to watch the gates. She would be home by then.

Walking down to the village took no time at all. She enjoyed herself in the market, giving gold pieces in return of apples and other fresh fruit, and enjoyed several pieces of homemade candies. She was just licking off the last of the sugary treat off her fingers when she caught sight of some of the King's guard, looking frantically around. She side stepped into an alley and cursed. By the Gods, how could she be so foolish? Of course they would notice she was gone!

Looking around, she spotted another street on the other side of the alley. She ran down it, keeping in mind to keep her breaths shallow so she could run further longer, and burst out onto the other side of the street. This street was much shadier then the last, but on the end of it she saw a sign for an Inn. Refuge! She ran over to it, pulling the cape to cover her long, blonde hair. It would do her no good to be spotted in here. Making sure all of her hair was covered, she slipped into the inn.

It was...grungy, to say the least, not anything like the inns that she and her father had stayed at before. There was likely another Inn in town that reputable folk stayed at, so this was for the best. Near the hearth, she could see a group of men playing a game of dice. Gamblers. She scoffed. While it was not illegal in their realm, it wasn't the most...clean sport one could play. Oftentimes the gamblers were found dead in a ditch due to shady dealings. Or that's the guards told her.

She casually walked up to the bar, rolling her eyes at the game. Whoever was playing seemed to be close to winning, if not had won, and it was getting...obnoxious over there. She slid up onto a stool, and raised her hand up to the barkeep. She would be obvious if she only asked for a water, but she didn't like to drink, having only really drank wine. "An Ale," She stated softly. "And a plate of your special today." The barkeep grunted his acknowledgement, taking a dusty glass to a nearby keg and returning it.

By the time a plate of food had been tossed down in front of her, the man who was winning his dice game had gotten up and left the inn. Or had attempted to. Seraphina turned her gaze to the door while raising her fork up to her mouth and stopped dead. The guards! She quickly turned around and hunched herself over, shoveling mouthfuls into her mouth as she listened to the man lie. Blatantly. She knew she was not the first person to enter the inn during his game, and she was definitely not the last. And her neighbour next to her to the bar had left.

Why had he lied to protect her? Intrigued by the man, she turned her head ever so slightly to see him lead the guards away. She winced, but this would be the best time for her to leave. She took a quick swig of ale, made a face and threw down a few gold pieces for the innkeeper, before sliding off her stool. The short princess then started for the door. She had just popped her head out the door to hear the beginning of the winner tell the guards he was to buy a round or two. Should she stay an wait for her savior? Or follow at a distance? Decisions, decisions...

In the end, she ended up going for a "leisurely stroll" behind him, unable to bring herself to go home before finding out why this man had lied. He surely didn't know she was the "pri" that the guards were looking for.

In the end, he had relieved himself of the two inspectors. One kept insisting they go back, that they had a tip that their quarry was inside the inn, but Daxton knew how that situation might end, with the other gamblers ratting him out when they were questioned alongside all the other patrons. He did his best to dissuade the men of that notion, reiterating how he had already blocked a skulking scamp and sent it on its way. Curiously, the guards did not drill him about the imaginary figure's appearance, giving him the slight impression that they weren't entirely sure what the person they were chasing looked like. He could have described one of the fellows who had walked in, or invented an entirely new person, but the latter would have gotten him in trouble with the guards eventually, and the former would be partaking in exactly the type of informing he wished to avoid being part of with the other gamblers.

But in the end, he was free, the guards did not yet realize they had been stumped, and he had a little extra spending money on his person. He had a rule, that served him well enough, that he would never make another round of betting on the same day that he managed to be up, even if it were only by a few pennies. It didn't quite apply, and it certainly didn't work well to the times that he was down, and most of those days of losses ate heavily into whatever more honest money he had acquired to that point. The worst times were when he hand to reach under his dark maroon jerkin, untie the strings of his white shirt, and run his fingers along the silver necklace that lie beneath, wondering whether to throw it onto the table to support his most desperate ante.

He weighed his options to spend time on a mid-afternoon. Going to the market seemed a way to indulge himself too easily and spend as much as if he were being cheated by a pair of loaded die. It was certainly too early to turn into his room for the night, the only time he considered a retreat at this time of day was when he already had a companion around his arm and a way to make the innkeeper busy with work the next morning. He made up his mind to take a visit to the town's fountain, said to be lucky by all the townspeople, almost exactly like every other fountain no matter the owner and no matter how mundane or grand it might be. It didn't much matter to him, finding a bit of fresh water, and perhaps a nice cool mist from it, might drive away the smell of the sea from his nose. He was in the lower portion of the town, close to the water line, with a thick scent of salt filling the air.

His eyes traveled everywhere as he walked. First they would be on the path ahead of him, making sure that he wouldn't bump into anybody. Then they might trail along any signs hanging from a building, that stood out to him. He would observe inhabitants through their windows, performing their craft, or making a sale, or perhaps performing simple housework. He would even stare at his feet while pacing, observing how his dusted up boots no longer perfectly matched the color of his breeches. But most telling of all, was the figure behind him, which seemed to shadow, no matter which turn he made or side-avenue he strolled through. He couldn't say he knew why he was being trailed, but he knew the art himself, and he knew the etiquette. If you are in a miserable mood, you yell at them quite loudly, and hope they have no real business with you. If things are more pleasant, you leave them be, and pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. If you are guilty... well oh my, then the stakes are raised and the chase is on. Daxton was not guilty, at least not today.

There was one way he found relatively surefire to discover a person's intent. After a thirty-minute trip that should have only taken twenty, thanks to the turns and diversions, he found himself in front of the structure throwing water into the air, and letting it drop into a stone-ringed pool. An arm lowered itself, and he could feel the cool liquid against his skin, a nice contrast from the heating of the sun. Splashing a small bit towards his face, he already felt refreshed. But, enough amusement for now, there was a matter to attend to. He took a seat upon the low stone wall, letting his legs extend out in front, and patted subtly at his side. If somebody had business with him, they might take the opportunity to approach, come forward, and be honest with him. If they had a more sinister intention, he would remain alone, and know to be on his guard.

Seraphina enjoyed herself on this stroll. She kept her distance, often times inspect signs or wares of the stores they passed by. This man, she realized after he brought her down a side street or two, knew she was following him. So as much as she liked to think she was, the princess was not a master spy. She smiled in amusement when, thirty minutes later, they ended up in front of the fountain. A fountain of luck, toss in a coin and make a wish and the gods would smile upon you. The man sat on the edge and patted the side, and she bit down on her lip. He was most definitely onto her.

She padded over to the fountain, and pulled herself up. Most of her height came from her torso, so her legs dangled from the edge of the fountain, her leather bound toes barely grazing the cobblestone below her. "Hello." She said pleasantly enough. After all, he must have called her over for this exact reason: To talk.

She let the silence between them sink in for a second before she decided to get down to business. "You protected me, in the inn. Why is that?" She asked curiously, her voice low. "I know that numerous people entered and left, yet you lied to the guards. There's punishment here, y'know, for lying to the King's Guard.... so why?"

He wasn't quite sure what to feel when the girl approached him. He had taken quick glances at her as they walked, but she was a fair distance away, and he hadn't been quite sure if the figure wrapped in the cape was a girl or a child. It had hidden her clothes fairly well until this point, but now up close he could find himself examining the soft features of her face, and the bottom of her dress that stuck out the bottom of her covering garment. She did not strike him as a felon, but he knew from many previous mistaken assumptions that his eyes were not the most discerning of a person's true nature.

The King's Guard? 'Shit', he thought to himself. He couldn't tell anybody apart in this town, it was too new to him. He had come in five days ago, and the journey here took several times that itself. He didn't really have a reason before, beyond instinct, but this girl just gave him a reason with that bit of information.

He took a quick look over his shoulder and into the water when she spoke to him, hoping to see a reflection of himself to help him measure his response. It was not deep or calm enough to provide that, and so he turned to her. "I've needed a favor before, after'a rough enough mistake. Mebbe you did back there as well." A grin began to appear on his face. "I've also needed people t'owe me a favor, when they didn't. So, perhaps we just got that there part of it out of the way." He extended a hand to her, covered in its markings. "Daxton." It didn't serve well to have somebody owe a favor without them knowing who they owe it to, though he didn't know yet if she considered that worthy of a favor.

"Is that all?" He asked the girl, almost accusingly, a bit jarring against the warmer gesture with his hand. "Yuh followed me all the way here to ask a question? I would've expected you tah open with business. A deal, or a proposition. Y'know."