Guests poured through Leyndell's gates like a vibrantly embroidered tapestry. If the city wasn't glowing enough, it definitely is brimming with too much color now. Banners of different houses stand proud amongst each other. Nobles weren't the only ones who entered the premises, he can spot a large group of sell swords taking advantage of the festivities even if they were only entertained outside the castle walls.
He sees a distinct banner. House Marais. A family of executioners and the occupants of the Shaded Castle. Maleigh Marais, the head, is a flimsy man, with a clean trimmed beard and sunken tired eyes that make him look older than he actually is. His Aegean robes are covered by a black mantle in shoulder length.
He knows not why a reclusive man would suddenly develop an interest in visiting the Golden Capital. Intrigued by the newly acquired wines and dancers from overseas. One can always guess the hunger of men.
What's more surprising is Rykard, one of the Carian princes, and another recluse, deigns to visit the City that seduced his father.
The prince isn't as intimidating as his brother in stature or like his father in presence. He did inherit the signature crimson mane of his sire and the paleness in skin from his mother. Instead of a glintstone staff on his hip, a spangled short sword accompanies his leather belt.
The prince could be mistaken for someone sickly but he knows better than to appraise a person by appearances alone.
And then there's the Lunar Princess. She's as beautiful as always, maybe even more so when they last saw each other. Her hair is woven intricately in braids, knotted in the right places and decorated with crystal buds. The pace she walks down the staircase make it seem like she's floating.
"You're starring." The Queen says from beside him.
"Apologies." He replies then looks elsewhere.
She laughs then pulls at his cloak, "Don't let my lord husband see you ogling at one of his daughters like a parched wretch."
Did I look like that? He doesn't ask.
"But I can't say it's not reciprocated." She gives a quick caress to Vaughn's cheek then sends a vicious smirk at the princess from across the hall.
If she isn't careful, she might just freeze the whole room out of jealousy and spite. The Queen loves to rile her up by teasing her that she has the upper hand.
"You might want to put down your glass, sister."
Ranni stares at her brother then at the glass of wine she's holding. The contents of the glass already solidified. It's a small miracle that she didn't break it. She does as she's told and places the glass on a tray that a servant was holding while passing by.
"We're not here to antagonize." He makes a quick glance at the group of entertainers fluidly weaving through the excited crowd. "Tis' a duty of ours to keep up with appearances."
"Really now, Brother? If I recall, you came back home because your dancer is attending this party."
Rykard at least has the shame to flush in embarrassment in silent admission. The man practically composes a ballad every time he writes to them about Tanith, his bride to be.
He looks at the entertainers again, "You're right. I'm downright beguiled and within her clutches. Don't you think she makes a better witch than you?" Her brother faux faints, letting his head fall carefully on the table.
Her frown deepens, expression turning into disgust, "Stop your ramblings. I might just spew my dinner onto thee."
Rykard plays with the stray hairs on his face, twisting together the curls, "You are the same as me, no? You pine for that man that the Queen keeps close at hand."
"Funny thing actually, I was on horseback a fortnight ago and saw a schematic of yours on Iji's table."
She does not rebuke him. He presses on then, "A great sword, a magnum opus of the battlefield imbued with our family enchantments and a deadly frost that only you can conjure. Isn't it a tradition for Carian Queens to gift their intended with a sword of their design?"
"My Dear Sister." Rykard beams at her, a look reserved when he bests her, "You are over the moon with the man that you put my love for Tanith to shame."
Her brother's exaggerated guffaw follows her even after exiting the Great Hall.
With all of Vaughn's talents, she ponders uselessly on the fact that he acts cowardly. He doesn't take like his kin. He's strong but he hides it with a mask of spinelessness that it manifests even when there's nothing to be afraid of.
She takes one step forward and he takes two steps back.
They've been at it like cat and mouse for years now. Is it because he thinks of her as the repulsive rats living in the catacombs underneath this City?
She trails after his lips as he breaks away from her, keeping her at arm's length.
Ranni pushes him on the bed and straddles his hips. He bucks upwards involuntarily; it punches a moan from her.
"Princess..Princess…" he says, breathless, "I need you… to.."
She kisses him again, her tongue tracing his lips, "Don't even think t-that I don't w-want this.."
She guides his hands to her thighs. Ranni won't let him get away again.
He flips her beneath him and rolls his hips.
Maybe Rykard was right. She is too far gone with him.