If she was truly honest, Alexia would admit albeit reluctantly that the rest of the night's performance was exemplary, her calm and an outward friendly demeanour had the effect of putting her father at ease. Once the outburst by Olaf had effectively put an end to the line of unpleasant conversation, the acrimony that tainted the atmosphere had dissipated and civility had resumed. Vivian was the most surprising. Alexia always held the opinion that the girl was too brazen and blasé, as spoiled princess are inclined to be-but never did it occur that she could be so two-faced. Telegraphing small significant smiles, girlishly blithe for Arthur, to give him the apt impression while ensuring her father was amused and placated.

When the men announced their departure for the evening, a wispy breath left Vivian as the weight trickles from her shoulders. It is such a bother to keep up pretences, every time their eyes met across the table, his sparkling and carefree, a surge of hot emotion erupted in her body and her fingers involuntarily stroke the cutlery knife. The cruel metal of the blade winking at her enticingly. Nevertheless, flirty smiles and a voice with the subtle lilt of desire are all the voluntary action she can allow.

When he decides to take leave, she follows him to exchange a few pleasantries. One hand carefully concealing the knife, cold and burning within her palm, in the folds of her dress.

"Vivian. It was a lovely supper." He tells her. "Yes, I will be happy to inform the cooks that the meal was to your liking." The words are flowing from her lips with an odd sort of blandness as if they are not from her but another person, a caricature that shares her high pitched voice ringing with false cordiality. No matter how hard she tries, she can't undo the stitching that keeps the smile in place. "It gives me great pleasure to see you again. Arthur. After what happened between us the last time."

"Yes." He cuts in quickly, clearing his throat, his gaze wavering, "It was indeed unfortunate." Vivian searches his countenance for an apology or regret, any trace that would redeem him in her eyes. There is none. Not a hint that would assuage her anguish. He wears such a manner of blameless fortitude that it irks her to say the least-without consequence he can meet her eyes and fashion words of an amiable nature as if she was a mere acquaintance. Not a woman he has defiled or a girl whose spirit he has broken with caustic lies. The fair, perfect noble prince who would one day be a better man than his father is a facade.

Nails dig into her flesh. It is with force she moves her mouth, jaw locked in simmering rage, to form the words, "Yes. Indeed." Swallowing the bitter ball of ash in her throat. "Well. Prince Arthur." Letting it loose like an unholy curse word, " For all the trouble I must have caused you-" The edge of the knife scraps the thin material of her gown. "I-"

"Vivian." Alexia appears by her side and grabs her arm in a manacle grip, "King Olaf asked me to give you a message." Said in a tone that brooked no argument, eyes boring into hers and was slightly taken aback by the hint of madness in Vivian's depths. It is apparent that the blond is not thinking lucidly, the devil's madness must have seized her mind for her to attempt-something so absurd. With a brief apology at Arthur, Alexia drags the girl away, a weak sound of protest hitting Alexia's ears. Arthur looks after them, nothing discernable in his gaze, then he moves onwards.

The echo of his footfalls lowers as they move farther away. Alexia confronts Vivian in the darkest corner she can find, turning on her with anger contorting her features. "What do you think you are doing?" Hissed reproachfully, giving her the full brunt of a typical harsh glower of judgemental disapproval. Vivian's face is set in a cool, aloof mask, determined to ward any admonishments she might receive. However, she cannot help the unconscious flinch at the radiating animosity.

"Do you want to get us caught before we can carry out our plan? What is the matter with you? " Bitter grief breaks onto her face, lips quiver as she dredges words from the vapid, hollow pit of her stomach, "He is not even a little sorry!" Snarled under her breath, "He enters my home, behaves so innocently. Lies to my father's face and practically insinuates that the entire incident was my fault." Her voice rises higher, with a tart edge of rancour, face warping, from serene beauty to ugly wrath.

Alexia raises an eyebrow archly, narrowing her eyes in quiet disdain, "Did you honestly expect anything less?" Looks down at her, all perfect white teeth and mirthless chuckling, "He is a man. More so a Prince. You are a princess who is known to be-impulsive and avaricious." Vivian averted her eyes, unable to hold the callous, mocking stare upon her. Alexia notices with dull amusement the twitching of the muscle belonging to her wrist. Almost reading her thoughts, fingers reach forward to encircle Vivian's wrist and then, plucks her hand from her pocket. A lightning of silver across the metal surface confirmed her worst suspicions. Anger should have overwhelmed her but instead, a still, impassive look drapes her features and warning twitches in Vivian's heart. "Honestly, I did expect better from you!" Shutting her eyes, letting a wave of vapid coolness wash over her. Voice is deceptively soft and gentle but stilted, almost on the rim of sarcastic. "It was a mistake-believing in you. Thinking you had a shred of dignity or enough guts to suffice for that hollow, primed little head of yours to make a wise enough decision. Apparently I couldn't have been more wrong in trusting you." Horror widens in Vivian's eyes, mouth open, aghast at the words that carry the acid sting of a wasp.

"What did you think you could have done to him? Vivian. With a cutlery knife no less. Would you have bought him to his knees? Would have had him appeal to your female compassion for forgiveness? I think not."

Vivian's chin tilts upwards, eyes full of defensive indignation but the pained crinkle at the corners of her eyes belies her strong response. Alexia effects a rueful sigh, trailing into a limp chuckle, "I was anticipating too much from your participation, Vivian. Perhaps you would be better off –No-you would be better suited playing the part of the coy princess." She certainly didn't mean it kindly; the abrasive curl of her tongue throws numb contempt over Vivian. The girl lets it soak into her limbs.

"Maybe there is something of your old reputation that is salvageable or you could always work on the kindness and pity of your suitors." Vivian is arrested to the spot, thoughts tripping over each other trying to come to a consensus on the next course of action. Trickles of icy chill weaves along the length of her spine and frigid water pumps in her veins. Alexia paints such a pathetic picture of a girl, a distraught and pitiful creature, forsaken and beaten, empty wood carved into shape with puppeteer strings. If Vivian knew it not to be herself, she would loathe the girl.

A crackle of hurt and it causes Alexia to pause but not out of mercy. No, Alexia may be truly exhausted with the young princess-find her distracting and sometimes irrevocably exasperating but there are moments. Perception alters in these cracks of time when this woman emerges, fearsome and dangerous with the air of a warrior.

As of now...

"My apologies." Vivian says, uneasily void of any emotion, icily treacherous like the arctic wasteland of the cold mountains. Eyes dark with absinthe fire, demonic innocence and sorrowful spite. "I was indeed too hasty with my decision. Arthur must pay dearly for this crime against me-against women-before another obstinate Prince attempts such fiendish trickery again."

The harsh lines of her mouth soften and her voice is unusually strong despite the careless words, "Do as you must!"

I am officially discontinuing this story. Sorry to those who liked it but lack of reviews and I do not feel it is going anyway. So no point! Thanks to those who reviewed and who like it!