This curse was not a convenience. It was just a curse. No advantages, no perks, no fortune popping up at his side cheerfully to whisper about some fated piece of knowledge which would become the crux of his espionage mission. Nothing. Just one goddamn lethal curse and the world's most obnoxiously bland ward to trail behind everywhere he marched his little pale ass. And for a spoiled royal, he sure did walk a lot.

Nope. No more falling for optimism. He was done with that. If opportunity presented itself, he'd seize hold of it, but no more optimism. There was nothing optimistic about his current situation. Sure, the food was good, but it could be poisoned. He was getting some decent exercise from gallivanting across the palace grounds with his charge, but he could be doing this back in Amistri. The day, as the princess had pointed out, was uncommonly beautiful…

But I'm stuck watching the prince.

He eyed the back of his black, silk vest. A sight that had become all too familiar to him in the past hour. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stalked after him, glancing around at his surroundings.

The Mercians really were fond of making everything look beautiful. They walked down a path bordered by bushes of flowers in full bloom and tall, graceful trees. Beyond this, a fountain that burbled musically with crystalline water could be seen. At its foot, growing in the eternally damp shade, were water loving plants, mints predominant. He even saw an orchard as they walked, and the scent of flowers in bloom wafted heavily towards him every time the wind blew their direction, carrying with it the drone of bees.

If one place could epitomize the word idyllic, the Mercian palace would be it.

Those lucky bastards. Those lucky, lucky bastards. They didn't know the meaning of the word hardship. What it was like to carve out a living from nothing. Mercia was a nation of merchants. A maritime country, graced with resources and the means to export them easily. A Mecca of illumination, of the arts and knowledge and brilliant minds. Every child was afforded an education under the belief that anyone could become the next great mind, or craftsman, or artist. Aside from spats their navy occasionally engaged in with pirates, they hardly knew war. Mercia skillfully played the strings of diplomacy, of debt, of supply and demand, and somehow managed to stay on top of it all.

Ulquiorra turned down the left path when the road forked, angling back towards the palace. Nnoitra shook his head, wondering at the sense in his meanderings. It didn't seem like meandering, for he appeared to walk with purpose, but his routes were so eccentric. It was little wonder Byakuya had assigned him to guard him; if assassins ever arrived to kill him, they'd find the task extremely simple. There was no need to isolate him if he voluntarily walked alone. Then again they'd have to find him first.

It wasn't until Ulquiorra stopped that he realized he'd said something. Mentally berating himself for allowing himself to get distracted, he tried to piece together his words from his scattered mind. The prince however was not one to dally, and with an impatient look over his shoulder, repeated himself.

"I told you to leave me. Go find something to do with yourself; I don't want you following me around everywhere."

"Pardon, milord," Nnoitra remarked sardonically as he stared down at his charge with a bored look, "It's not my idea of the best way to spend my day either, but I've been assigned to you."

Ulquiorra directed an equally bored look at him in return, turning slightly to face him. His hands were tucked into his pockets nonchalantly; for all that he critiqued his sister on posture and decorum, his wasn't exactly up to par either. Hypocrite.

"Then as your master, I command you to take a break," Ulquiorra said.

"Sorry princeling, I answer to a higher authority than yours," Nnoitra replied with a grin he couldn't suppress. Sure, he had to look after him, put his life on the line for him whenever he ate, and generally put up with his arrogance, but when Ulquiorra ordered him away, that was a command Nnoitra didn't have to follow. He was sworn to protect Ulquiorra and stay by his side, and if the little royal spawn found issue with that then he could choke on it; it gave Nnoitra the utmost pleasure to deny him.

Ulquiorra's emerald eyes narrowed at his cocky reply; he was most likely unused to being told no. Well too damn bad for him. Maybe he was a prince, but it was high time he learned the whole fucking world didn't revolve around him.

"Wipe that grin off your face, filth. You will address me with the proper respect or remain silent," the smaller man ordered imperiously, turning on his heel and marching away. Nnoitra followed, privately gloating that he'd managed to piss him off. Not even his lofty attitude and words could hide that he was irritated. Anything was better than that emotionless mask of his, and if he was to spend most of his time with the prince, then he'd entertain himself with putting as many cracks into it as he could.

He'd assumed that Ulquiorra would be returning to the castle, but it turned out his assumption was wrong after all. Just before they reached the main path to the palace entrance, Ulquiorra took yet another side path that wound around towards the back. The forested vista soon opened up onto flat fields of grass, which at first glance seemed free of the landscaping that marked the rest of the Mercian palace. However, as he examined the area more critically, he realized this land had also been worked. Mercia was not a flat country; much of it was hilly, becoming increasingly more mountainous as it ran towards the interior. A high spine of mountains protected Mercia's inland border; its greatest threat came from the ocean, hence the creation of its navy.

There was something almost aggressive about Mercia's relentless taming of its lands. For a moment, he thought of his own Amistri and compared the two; the imperial war machine renowned for absorbing other countries and methodically stripping them down for resources to fuel its ever expanding reach with the peaceful, illustrious merchant kingdom. The comparison seemed ridiculous in hindsight, and he shook his head to clear it of the niggling thoughts that lingered at the corners of his mind as they arrived at wherever it seemed Ulquiorra meant to bring them. The prince drew up to a halt in front of what appeared to be a stable.

"Yammy," he called in a cool but firm voice above the soft whickering of the steeds inside. A moment later, the summoned man appeared, cleaning his hands on a well-worn rag. Nnoitra raised an appraising eyebrow at the stable hand; he was broad and muscular, looking as though he could easily snap a man in two with his rough paws of hands. However, the expression on his face stood completely at odds with his coarse appearance. A jagged grin split his face as his eyes alit upon Ulquiorra.

"Ulquiorra!" he roared in welcome, "Come for your mount?"

"Yes, Yammy," the prince replied quietly, unfazed by Yammy's exuberant greeting, nor the sight of a small dog gamboling around his feet, tail wagging like mad. When it went to greet Ulquiorra, sniffing at his boots, Yammy growled a reprimand at it.

"Shoo, dog. Outa his way."

The dog looked back over at its master, wagging its tail charmingly as its tongue flopped out of its mouth, and with a small yip, bounded back over to him. Nnoitra noted its apparent lack of apprehension around the bulky man, which spoke to his true temperament in spite of his rough address. Yammy meanwhile seemed to notice him at last, and some of his good humor faded.

"So, what did you drag along with you?" he asked of Ulquiorra. The prince spared him a glance before his eyes flicked back over to Yammy.

"Nothing much. Father decided I need a bodyguard."

"Looks too skinny to be a proper bodyguard," Yammy observed with a critical look before shrugging and walking back into the stable, "I thought ya'd be over today, so I made sure to get'm ready for you."

Trailing after Ulquiorra and Yammy, Nnoitra stepped inside the building. He didn't take another step for several seconds. He shouldn't have been so surprised. The Mercian royals were quite wealthy, and from what he'd seen so far, eccentricity quite appealed to them. But he was surprised nonetheless, for the beasts within the royal stables were of a more unusual variety than one's typical equestrian.

Over in one large pen, a Gryphon flexed its wings, catlike with its rump in the air and talons kneading the straw on the floor as it stretched. It swished its leonine tail and crossed its paws as it settled back down, eyeing the visitors with a lazy avian eye cracked, but otherwise seemed unconcerned with company. Another enclosure held what looked like a draconic horse, though its anatomy was far more delicate than a horse. Closer perhaps to a deer, with its cleft hooves, horns, and dainty ankles. It eyed him proudly from its pen, looking perfectly regal with its red and gold scaled skin and slightly out of place here in this man-made structure. Though Yammy was busy opening the door to another stall, he didn't miss the look in his eye as he observed the strange creature, and he put a name to the beast.

"That's a Kirin, a Unicorn from the far East. They're very rare, had trouble acquiring it. But they're supposed to bring good luck."

Nnoitra nodded, glancing over at him to see what animal he was leading out of the stall, and his breath caught slightly at the equine he led out. It was gorgeous with its flawless black coat and silken mane, truly a steed of superior stock. But that wasn't what caught his eye; what really made him stare were the leathery black wings that unfolded from its back as it pranced out into the stable.

"Sub species of Pegasus," was Yammy's admiring comment as he swept one of his broad, calloused palms over its withers. It nickered, nosing at his hand, and he offered it an apple from his pocket.

It was fucking badass was what it was. Nnoitra watched with envy as Ulquiorra swung into the black leather saddle on its back, accepting the reigns from Yammy. He glanced down at Nnoitra with a superior air from his new perch, looking every inch the noble he was.

"So if you insist on following me around, I'm not sure what you're going to do, but I'm heading down to the city. Make a decision in the next minute or I'm leaving you behind," he informed him coolly, and Nnoitra's brow furrowed.

"You don't have any ordinary horses?" he asked of the stable keeper, who shook his head.

"I don't keep normal animals," said Yammy, "No fun if they don't try ta kill you once or twice."

"Even the Unicorn?" Nnoitra asked doubtfully, glancing over at the Kirin. Actually, it looked quite capable of doing damage if it so desired. Though delicate and refined, it still had a fierce look to it due to its draconic attributes.

"Oh… you know, there's an idea," Yammy remarked thoughtfully, "Ya could take Yachiru's mount."

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow, the first sign of emotion he'd seen for several minutes.

"Yachiru's steed? Are you quite sure Yammy? I'm not sure he could handle him," the prince said, soft voice filled with something close to amusement. A ghost of a smile drifted across his lips briefly.

Shit. If Ulquiorra was smiling, that probably didn't bode well. But… whatever. It was a freaking dragon-horse-deer thing. What was so dangerous about it? He could handle it.

"Hmm… you do have a point there. But I'm not going to let a newbie ride any of my other beasts, and Yachiru's trained him pretty well…" Yammy replied. He looked thoughtful for a moment longer, then nodded to himself. "Moonwhisper it is then," the man announced, then walked to another stall.

Moonwhisper? What the hell kind of name is that? Leave it to a scatterbrained princess to name him something so fucking-

"Here kid. Come say hello to Moonwhisper."

Nnoitra stared. The animal he'd fetched was most definitely not the Kirin. It was white and elegant with a silvery mane, dainty cleft hooves, and a spiraling white-gold horn. Its tail was leonine, ending in a white tuft, and its face was slim and tapered, a small beard like a goat wisping under its chin.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked, incredulous. The words slipped out of his mouth before he even thought of them.

"This here is a Unicorn you moron. What does it look like?" Yammy drawled, running an affectionate hand down its arched neck. The beast regarded him with deep violet eyes, looking decidedly unimpressed with him. He blinked. Wait, how exactly did that work anyways? A glorified horse looking unimpressed?

"I thought ya meant the Kirin," Nnoitra said, crossing his arms. So he was acting sullen and undignified, but really! They expected him to ride a fucking girly Unicorn named Moonwhisper?

"Na, I wouldn't let an amateur ride the Kirin. I'm still a little reluctant to let you ride this one either," Yammy said, fetching a saddle for it.

"Because it's so fuckin' dangerous," Nnoitra remarked sarcastically.

"He is, actually. I'd advise you to shut up before you insult him any further, Gilga," Ulquiorra commented. That shadow smile was back, his lips quirking upwards ever so slightly at the corners.

"Yeah? Give me one good reason why I should respect it," Nnoitra retorted, still dying of envy internally at the sight of Ulquiorra's ride. God what he'd give to be riding the black Pegasus. Imagine flying into battle on that thing…

"Because he's a man-eater," the prince commented wryly.

A what?

"Ah, yeah. Thanks fer reminding me, Ulquiorra. Wouldn't want him to take a bite out of some poor chap in town," Yammy said brightly, passing Moonwhisper's reins to Nnoitra abruptly, "Here. Hold'im for a bit."

Nnoitra took hold of the reins awkwardly while Yammy meandered towards the back and opened a barrel. The Unicorn offered him a placid look in return, and after staring at him for a moment, Nnoitra cracked a grin.

"A man eater, huh? You don't look so dangerous," he commented. The Unicorn whickered quietly, shifting his delicate feet as he bent his head gracefully. Nnoitra reached up to run a hand through his silver mane, admiring its beauty even if it was something he would never admit out loud.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Yammy commented as he turned around, a slab of meat in hand, and it was the only warning he got before the beast lunged forward. Nnoitra swore as he leapt to the side, avoiding Moonwhisper's horn, which suddenly seemed a whole lot less pretty and a great deal more dangerous.

"What the fuck!" Nnoitra yelled as the Unicorn turned and drew his lips back to expose white teeth with conspicuously pointed canines; a feature he was positive was not anatomically present in ordinary horses or Unicorns. And if they were typically present in Unicorns, then he had been grossly misinformed about the true nature of the species.

"Moonwhisper, let go!" Yammy barked curtly as the beast reached over and grabbed the hand that held his reins between his teeth, and the Unicorn rolled one eye back to look at the stable keeper, ears flattening against his skull stubbornly. Nnoitra swallowed heavily and resisted the very pressing impulse to rip his hand out of his mouth before the thing decided to bite down after all.

"Moon," Yammy growled warningly. The Unicorn pressed harder, and Nnoitra felt his fangs poking into his skin. But after a tense staring match between the two, the equine's ears gradually came forward again and Nnoitra felt him let go of his hand reluctantly with an indignant huff of his nostrils. Shaking out his mane, Moonwhisper trotted over to Yammy, who offered him the slab of meat he carried. The Unicorn made short work of the offering, and Yammy cleaned his bloody snout with the rag cloth he carried, leaving it as white and inconspicuous as before. Taking up his reins, which Nnoitra had dropped, he offered them to the tall man once more.

"So, ya think you can handle'im this time?" he asked in his rumbly voice. Nnoitra eyed the reins, his eye flicking between the Unicorn and its leads. Nodding mutely, he reached out to accept them, noticing the indents left in his hand from where Moonwhisper had bitten him. At least he hadn't punctured the skin, though he knew he could have easily.

"Do all, er, Unicorns eat meat?" he asked as he took up the leather reins and walked around to vault into the saddle Yammy had strapped into place. He tried to ignore its feminine design; probably the princess's from the size and fit.

Yammy laughed.

"Hardly. He's just a nasty piece of work, aren't you Moon? Rare breed, man eating Unicorns. Usually they just gore people through the middle and leave it at that, but the flesh eating variety takes it a step further. Szayel helped me acquire this one, and the princess fell in love with'm as soon as she lay eyes on him, bless her heart."

Usually they just gore people through the middle.

Yes, he'd definitely been misinformed about Unicorns. Nnoitra offered him a faint smile as he vaulted into the saddle, gripping the beast's flanks with his knees. Nnoitra wasn't usually one to ride horses due to his height, but he'd make an exception today. Hopefully Ulquiorra's visits to town weren't all that common, though from Yammy's greeting, it would seem they were periodic. It remained to be seen if this was a weekly kind of periodic or a monthly kind. Looking to Ulquiorra, he nodded affirmation that he was ready, and the prince spared him a half amused look before turning his steed and trotting off. Or at least, it seemed like it was half amused. It was still hard to read the unemotional prince.

Ulquiorra's trot soon morphed into a canter, which became a gallop as he picked up speed. Moonwhisper, not one to be outdone it seemed, quickly matched the black Pegasus effortlessly, tossing his head almost disdainfully as if to ask, is that it? Nnoitra privately wondered how intelligent he was, for though he didn't speak, the animal seemed to have an uncanny understanding of things. And he was proud. When Ulquiorra's Pegasus took off, wings buffeting the air impressively, Moonwhisper screamed a challenge to the airborne mount and stretched his long neck forward as he picked up speed. They were soon skimming over the ground at an unbelievable speed, and while Nnoitra would have expected the ride to be rougher, just the opposite occurred; Moonwhisper hardly seemed to touch the ground as he galloped just beyond the shadow of Ulquiorra's Pegasus, horn glinting in the sunlight. And he didn't tire either. By the time they reached the city and Ulquiorra banked, coming in to land, Moonwhisper hadn't even broken a sweat. He slowed to a canter, neat hooves clattering smartly against the flagstones as he pulled up alongside Ulquiorra's steed and offered it a nicker that sounded decidedly smug.

Dear god, here he was interpreting Unicorn sounds and body language. What next? The entire situation was surreal, so he didn't say a thing when the prince rode up to what looked like an inn and dismounted, gesturing for him to do the same. A man bustled out of the establishment a moment later, tailed by a gangly looking youth, who eyed Nnoitra's ride with something close to alarm.

"Prince Ulquiorra! Welcome! We are honored as ever to host your presence here," the man said, greeting him enthusiastically. Nnoitra wondered how people could treat him with such warmth when the pale young man had such a cold personality. The guy was probably just kissing his ass.

Ulquiorra nodded assent and looked to their rides, and the man, who Nnoitra figured to be the innkeeper, seemed unbothered by his tacitness. If Ulquiorra visited as often as it seemed, he was probably used to his prince's quirks. He waved to the awkward teen he towed with him, and the boy nervously took the reins of Moonwhisper and Ulquiorra's Pegasus, leading them to the back where the stable for guests' horses stood. Nnoitra watched him walk away, noting with amusement how the youth walked closer the black steed; obviously, he'd dealt with Yachiru's mount in the past and knew to afford him a healthy respect.

"Stay or come," Ulquiorra said, recapturing his attention as the smaller man followed the innkeeper inside. Nnoitra shot him an irritated look as soon as his back was turned, the familiar urge of wanting to strangle him surfacing temptingly before he brushed it away and followed, ducking as he stalked through the doorway. What he found inside was not what he'd been expecting.

It figured Ulquiorra wouldn't have frequented a common establishment. From the outside, the place looked like an inn, but once he was inside, he realized what it truly was; a tea shop. The air was scented with a variety of fragrant blends, smelling worlds nicer than your average tavern. Underneath this aroma of brewing tea and tisanes wafted the scent of freshly baked pastries and scones; some savory and some sweet. In one corner for example, he spotted a man dining on a rosemary crusted meat pasty with a pot of something nearby and a steaming cup of amber liquid in hand. The woman across from him had what looked like a blackberry fruit tart.

Then there was the décor. Sumptuous in the Mercian fashion, with tapestries on the walls and a variety of handcrafted centerpieces at the tables, but nothing was gaudy. It all worked together; rich, but tasteful. The tea bar looked to be polished ebony with a stripe of cherry wood worked in as an accent; this custom piece itself must have cost a hefty sum. Behind the bar, the wall hosted an extensive assortment of tea blends, each organized by type. Whites, greens, blacks, reds, oolong, rooibos, Darjeeling, herbals, fruit teas, chai, tisanes… it was almost intimidating to take them all in. And the regular customers were very easy to spot; they chatted with the waiters, casually dropping orders for names of teas he'd never heard and discussing the growing conditions of the latest shipments.

The customers themselves were something to see. Well dressed all of them, some more richly than others. Not a ragged beggar in sight. Several of them greeted each other familiarly, gathering around the circular tables arranged throughout the room to chat and share news over a shared pot or two. Merchants closed deals here; gold passed hands as freely as laughter and gossip. There was even a young couple in one of the less lively corners lost in each other's eyes as they exchanged private complements. Nnoitra stopped looking at this point, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Wealthy young men and women would beget wealthy brats, and when they tired of their newfound responsibility, they'd hire some not so wealthy maid to care for their spawn while they bemoaned their difficult lives. Fops.

Ulquiorra by this point had taken a seat at the bar and ordered his pot of tea, ignoring the rest of the room, and despite a few murmurs among the customers, no fuss was raised for the most part as they treated their prince with respectful distance. Which showed just how well off the people that gathered here were. Nnoitra settled for standing nearby and leaning against the bar; though the stools were high, his legs were still long enough to be awkward. The prince ignored him as well until his tea arrived, filling the air around them with the light perfume of flowers. A couple scones with a pat of butter and a small jar of creamed honey were delivered a moment later, and as Ulquiorra carefully took up the provided knife and opened the warm bread to spread both butter and honey across the halves, he gestured towards the pot of tea.

"Pour me a cup," he said in a bored sort of tone, glancing up. His brilliant emerald eyes caught his for a moment before returning to his scones as he added on to his order, "The server mistakenly brought two cups. If you wish, you may taste my tea for me."

"May?" Nnoitra asked, raising an eyebrow, "You weren't going to have me do it just on principle?"

Ulquiorra looked up on him, giving him a look that asked are you some sort of moron?

"This is a reputable establishment, and I will not insult the owner by towing a poison taster along with me. I have not done so in the past, and I am not about to begin now. I've only brought you on my father's orders. That is all," he replied with cold dignity, taking a bite out of his scone. Nnoitra looked at him disbelievingly for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't get you. It would be so much easier to poison you outside the palace. All it takes is one rogue server."

"The staff here is meticulously screened using truth spells to discern ill intentions upon hiring."

"That doesn't stop an employee who has already been hired who gets bribed," Nnoitra retorted. Ulquiorra sighed, giving him a disdainful look, and reached inside his vest to pull out a clear crystal pendant etched with the Mercian royal coat of arms.

"See this? I commissioned it from Szayel for when I visit new establishments in town whose reputation I've yet to ascertain. This crystal absorbs toxins and warms up when something has been poisoned. It turns dark and brittle once it has reached its capacity to absorb poison. I am perfectly safe."

Nnoitra stared at the pendant, then scowled, hands clenching slightly in anger as Ulquiorra put it away again and took another bite from his scone.

"So if you've got the fucking thing, why do you need me to taste your food?" he asked bitterly, trying to restrain his fury at the young royal and his family.

"Because often the type of poison can be very telling when it comes to identifying the perpetrator. Mercia is a peaceful country. We do not fight wars. But every so often, another country gets uppity and tries to do away with us subtly. Magic can distinguish some poisons, but there is such a great variety, identifying spells do not exist for them all. This pendant does not identify the type, only the presence of poison. Tasters still remain the most effective way to screen for poisons," Ulquiorra replied, tone darkening slightly as he stared into Nnoitra's eye with a condescending look. His eyes swiveled over to the teapot pointedly after a moment, "So then. When were you going to pour my tea?"

"Right now," Nnoitra replied a little sourly, reaching for the pot and pouring them each a cup. Szayel's pendant had been free of taint, which told him poison attempts weren't very common. He was probably in the clear. Still scowling slightly, he took a sip of the hot amber liquid. His scowl faded a moment later as the taste hit his tongue and he stared down at the drink in his hand.

"Something wrong?" Ulquiorra inquired dryly as he blew on his tea and took a sip, obviously not caring if something was.

"No, nothing," Nnoitra answered, marveling at the flavor. It was light and floral, like its aroma, and he'd never had anything like it. This was clearly high quality tea; most likely expensive. At its best, drinking tea was like drinking gold. Some of the rarer varieties he knew were worth more per ounce than the yellow metal.

"Jasmine," Ulquiorra commented tersely in explanation, "Stop staring. You look like poor bumpkin trash."

Fuck. This kid was going to rule the country when his father died? If Nnoitra didn't manage to kill him, he hoped someone else would. Byakuya had the superior authority of a king. Ulquiorra was just fucking arrogant period. All the same, Nnoitra obeyed, a sneer curling his lips before he composed his face into something relatively neutral. They passed the time in uncompanionable silence while Ulquiorra finished off his scones and most of the small pot of tea; Nnoitra himself had indulged in a couple of cups already and was on his third, deciding if someone could make a jasmine flavored alcohol he'd gladly die of alcohol poisoning from overdosing on it. It wasn't until Ulquiorra drained the last of the pot that something happened to break the monotony. A man materialized alongside Ulquiorra from one of the tables- a merchant, Nnoitra remembered from his idle observations of the comings and goings of the tea shop, and a particularly wealthy one. It seemed he'd recently become an important man when an especially lucrative venture in the South had paid off.

Nnoitra's attention immediately sharpened as he appraised the man, sifting through his mind for other observations he may have made while simultaneously making new ones. The merchant extended a hand, which Ulquiorra did not return, and offered him a winning smile, making introductions and small talk. His actual words were unimportant to Nnoitra, however; whatever he was saying, it wasn't worth listening to. It was all superficial anyhow. No, the real information came from his posture. The way he carried himself. His gestures and expressions and all the little movements he made. His tone. The nonverbals were what gave him away, or at least some of his intent. Nnoitra closed his eye for a moment, taking the information in as he swirled the last of his tea in his cup.

It was something he'd seen before. Several times actually. An approach he knew very well. He just couldn't quite believe the man was actually daring to pull this on the stone-faced prince. Opening his eye again, he watched Ulquiorra now, picking out his mood from the rare cues he gave. To his surprise, he was not as stiff and emotionless as usual. He still offered the man a disdainful arrogant look that warned him off, but his posture was different now. He was relaxed, almost like he was used to this. He balanced his chin on one upturned palm, leaning forward slightly as he responded to the merchant in his typical taciturn way. But whatever his face and voice said, the story his body told was a different one.

Holy shit…

The man was coming onto Ulquiorra, and Ulquiorra was…

"And you really believe this information is worthy of my time? I am the crown prince of Mercia," Ulquiorra reminded him coolly. The other man offered him a look that verged on hunger, though he quickly composed himself.

"Yes my lord prince. Entirely worthy of your time. But might we discuss it in private? I have a room rented upstairs that should suffice nicely; the inn has enchantments on the walls to prevent prying ears, which can be activated. I'd of course spare the price."

How convenient. Spelled walls. Nnoitra wondered at the so-called "reputation" of the inn. It was shaping up to seem like a pleasure place for the rich nobles and elites. Certainly, legitimate discussions might take place in private here, but the possibility that the spells existed to cover up certain other noises seemed very high. And Ulquiorra knew this. There was no way he didn't.

"Very well then, but let me warn you if it is a waste of my time I will be very displeased and will make things unpleasant for you," the prince replied, rising from his seat. Nnoitra stared after him as he accompanied the merchant to the stairwell, disbelieving. Oh yes. Ulquiorra knew. And not only did he know, but it seemed he participated as well, which explained why he seemed so in his element. Shaking his head, he followed them up the stairs, thoughts churning in his head. And while the realization that he was gay did come as a bit of a surprise to him, there was another than stunned him far more.

Holy shit. The crown prince of Mercia is a slu-

"Gilga, wait downstairs," Ulquiorra ordered as they reached the man's room. The merchant turned and really seemed to look at him for the first time, a scornful expression curling his lip.

"Who is this?" he asked, looking back over at Ulquiorra possessively. Nnoitra grinned back at him.

"Oh, just my bodyguard," Ulquiorra replied airily, though it was the merchant he ignored. His eyes were fixed on Nnoitra, silently ordering him away.

"Yep. Just a humble bodyguard," Nnoitra confirmed, still grinning, "Who is tasked to keep an eye on you at all times until otherwise dismissed."

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow, turning to face him fully. One hand went up to rest on his hip as he tilted his head slightly. Alarm bells went off in Nnoitra's head at this sudden change of attitude. Though Ulquiorra remained as aloof as ever, there was something dark about his stance. A playful confidence he never would have expected him to exhibit. It could, he supposed, be interpreted as coy. But his eyes told a different story. There was again a mismatch.

"I didn't know you wanted to see me naked so badly," he commented with a straight face no different than his usual expression, but a soft nearly imperceptible undercurrent colored his words. The man next to him reddened at his candor, growing flustered and glaring daggers at Nnoitra. But Nnoitra couldn't care less about the merchant. He was busy reassessing the supposedly bland prince. Who was flirting. In a deadpan and as stoic as usual, but flirting nonetheless.

"As hot as that sounds, I'll wait outside the door," Nnoitra replied lightly, keeping his unease out of his voice. Ulquiorra's ghost smile appeared, clinching his creeping suspicions, and he turned back to the merchant.

"Go acquaint yourself with the teas downstairs when you get bored so you don't look like ignorant gutter refuse the next time I come here. I'll be out in two hours," he said offhandedly as he entered the room, the merchant trailing after him. Nnoitra waited until the door was closed before letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in.

"Shit…" he muttered to himself quietly.

Ulquiorra was good looking. Pale flawless skin, large brilliant green eyes, dark hair… He was on the shorter side of medium height for a man and slender. From the flash of his chest he'd seen this morning, Nnoitra knew his muscles had definition, but he was not physically built. In short, he seemed like ideal uke material if it weren't for his status and pride. But he knew instinctively that Ulquiorra would not be bottoming during this encounter. His appearance was deceptive.

The look he'd seen in his eyes across the hall… there was the truth. Dark. Cold. Amused. He'd smiled when Nnoitra had brushed off his comment, and there was knowledge in that faint grin of his. More than knowledge even; cruelty.

Ulquiorra had the eyes of a predator.

Confirming this, a muffled cry issued from the other side of the door, followed by pained whimpering. Bedsprings creaked as indistinct pleading started up. Only Ulquiorra's voice carried; smooth and dispassionate.

"I've only just begun and you're already begging?"

More pleading and pained sounds followed, followed by a cut off scream that made Nnoitra's blood curdle. Soft keening started up after a long moment, a sobbing whine that prickled up his spine and raised the hairs on his arms. It was a sound he was used to, having tortured information out of several men himself, but not something he ever expected to hear outside of an interrogation chamber or tent and certainly not coming from the other side of an inn door.

"Noisy trash. I told you if you wasted my time, I'd make things unpleasant for you," Ulquiorra reprimanded quietly, words emphasized with a sickening crack. Something had been broken. The merchant made a choked sound then and promptly fell silent. Fainted, Nnoitra presumed. He could imagine the look of disgust on Ulquiorra's face as he sighed.

"Two hours I set aside for you. Don't think fainting will help you," the prince murmured softly, almost tenderly. After a moment's pause, he spoke up again, as if musing to himself, "Meanwhile, I suppose I should activate the privacy spell."

There was another creak from the bed, followed by the soft patter of footsteps as Ulquiorra walked to the door to activate the charm inscribed in the frame, and a moment later, all fell silent. No more footsteps. No more creaks. No hushed murmurs or sounds of pain. Just silence.

Knowing what went on beyond that door, it was eerie. Nnoitra detached himself from the wall, conscious that Ulquiorra could probably hear him in the hallway. The prince knew he was there, knew he'd been listening. And actually, Nnoitra was willing to bet all that he owned that Ulquiorra hadn't forgotten to activate the charm up until that point. It had been a show for his benefit. An unspoken warning.

Ulquiorra too had recognized something in his face when they'd locked gazes across the hall. The moment he'd seen the understanding in Nnoitra's eye, his tone and attitude towards him had shifted. A challenge had been established, from one seme to another. From one sadist to another.

Nnoitra was so fucked. So so so so so screwed. Shit! Fuck! The prince of Mercia is a fucking sadist, and I'm his servant.

If he'd only gone downstairs… if he'd only gone along with Ulquiorra's order he would have been spared the knowledge and avoided arousing Ulquiorra's interest. But now that Nnoitra knew his secret, it made him a prime candidate for similar treatment at a later date. And since Nnoitra couldn't lay a finger on the prince because of his curse, self-defense was not an option. Which meant avoiding Ulquiorra was his only choice. But that also wasn't an option because he was his bodyguard.

Oh yeah. He was royally screwed. Literally and figuratively. The thought made him laugh, a note of hysteria creeping into his voice as he made his way downstairs. Ulquiorra had told him to "acquaint himself" with the teas, and he was only too happy to oblige that request. Shit, he was gonna need it if he wanted to collect his jumpy nerves by the time Ulquiorra came down. Seating himself at the bar, he ordered a cup of chamomile to start with and gradually proceeded through the shop's extensive tea sampler. The innkeeper was only too happy to accommodate his requests and questions due to his association with prince Ulquiorra.

Two hours later, when Ulquiorra meandered down looking clean and unruffled as usual to pay, Nnoitra had made use of his psychological training to compose himself. The prince merely nodded towards him and headed for the stable once they'd exited the establishment. The stable boy was only too happy to pass off Moonwhisper to Nnoitra, who was forced to dodge the temperamental Unicorn's horn once before making it into the saddle. The ride back to the castle was probably one of the most uncomfortable experiences he'd had in a long while, and though seeing Yammy was a welcome break from the suffocating silence, it was a brief one. He still had to follow Ulquiorra around for the rest of that day…

Then, just after dinner, Nnoitra was thrown a dubious lifeline.

A/N: Woohoo! Longest chapter for this fic yet. :D Sorry for the late update. I didn't do this story for Nanowrimo after all, but have an extra long chapter which sort of ends on a cliffhanger as a Christmas gift instead.

So… where to start with this one… Well, third chapter in, and I've realized I'm probably going to destroy Ulquiorra's character utterly in this fic. Because I've made him an oatmeal loving sadist with a sister complex and a penchant for playing Dom with random strangers who come onto him. Think about that for a moment. (That poison pendant ain't the only spelled protective gem he's got on him for that matter. If you take my meaning. *Shot*)

… yeah. For that matter, Nnoitra is probably going to get warped too. (Sorry Nnoi v_v;;) Eesh. Good luck to you, Gilga. I've changed his name to this romanization because of the name updates, which I'm still getting used to. *Rants* Name changes are evil.

Right. Flesh eating Unicorns. You know, I really don't know. That one came out of an idle train of thought. What would Yachiru ride? A Unicorn totally. (Those things are actually portrayed viciously in a lot of mythology. The fluffy portrayal came about more recently) But she's Yachiru, so I figured it would have something badass and (more) dangerous about it. Then I realized Nnoitra would give it shit for being a Unicorn and it obviously had to be a carnivorous Unicorn. The bat-winged Pegasus meanwhile is perfectly content to remain vegetarian. c:

Kirin is actually the Japanese name for the mythical beast known as the Qilin. It has so many spellings, I just chose the first one I remembered. That one is Byakuya's mount. Yoruichi rides the gryphon. There are other magical beasties in the castle who I will introduce at a later date; those are just the ones in the "stable." The pens are spelled in case anyone was wondering how they adequately hold magical creatures. Yes, I also warped Yammy's character. He's the royal beast master. Or something.

… I claim artistic license and the fact this is a crack fic in my defense. x_x;;

Ugh. Long A/N is long. My apologies, and I'll see you in the next chapter, whenever that gets put up. *Hint hint* Did I ever mention reviews mean I update faster? (Especially since no one probably reads this because it is a rare pairing) Critiques and complements are equally welcome :3 Ciao, folks. Off to edit and get some sleep (It's nearly 5:00 am on Christmas Day where I am…)