Lords and Ladies (OPEN)

[Katamari Roller]

Lady Marotte sat on a chair in the garden, with parchment and a quill. She was absorbed into her activity: drawing a map and disposition of forces of one of the battles she had been in, previous to her entering the Royal Guard. It was a sort of meditation activity for her, to submerge her mind back into those times and commit to memory every detail she could remember. The forces at her command, those she faced, the enemy commander, the terrain and its state, the movements of each army, the progress of the battle, her personal fights and actions and her guesses at the enemy leader´s... all of these, she wrote in parchment that she proceeded to guard inside a book. It was a compilation of sorts.

De Guinne had a dream. A small dream, nothing too important for her, more a hobby than an actual goal. She intended to write a book about strategy and actual battles in which a great number of tactics were applied. There were a couple of treatises about war in her family library, and found them so fascinating that it was intriguing to her, why there were so few books with useful information for commanders. Even the Royal Library had less essays about the topic than her own family. Marotte thought that, since she already meditated on battles just for the benefit of experience for future use, as a practical hobby, she might as well do it thoroughly and perhaps put it to the Empire´s service. Even if it was going to be ruled by a reckless brat.

Her musings and writing were interrupted by the servant sent by the Royals. After a sigh of annoyance, she sent the servant away with her book and parchment to be left in her chambers as well as orders for a small group of the Royal Guard to assemble, and went up to Antar´s chambers. She did not bother buttoning up her blouse, but she did put on her jacket on top.

The scene inside did not surprise her any more than the one last night, and she did not intend to be dragged into the princes´ perversions. The girl inside rang a bell with her. Had she seen her yesterday, perhaps?

"Prince Antar, Princess Arabelle, the Royal Guard will be ready in a few minutes. Your orders?"

 

[Wyld52771]

Soryian sat in a relaxed manner, watching his students he had been training with a critical eye. These men were the best swordsmen Lord Simon had, excluding himself...and Xavier. Of the dozen before him, handpicked by Soryian himself, only three of them might reach a high enough level of skill to be considered a swordmaster. Still, this was actually quite remarkable to find three of such potential in such close proximity.

Eventually, they would earn positions in Lord Simon's personal guard, he knew...they were young, very talented, and eager, much like he had once been...but as Lord Simon was somewhat standoffish with his men, they would look to him for guidance. He had befriended them, where Xavier was more reserved, so the men related to him. Already, they looked to him for direction. This was to his advantage...truly loyal men were a rare commodity, and if anything should happen to either Lord Simon or Xavier, which the recent poisoning had definitely put into perspective, he would already have a strong following among the men.

Soryian had always been ambitious, and had plans of his own...he was content with his role here in the castle, for now...but he knew he was destined for more than being a member of the Lord's bodyguard. Eventually, those plans would come to light, and these loyal men would follow him.

Soryian's thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a manservant.

"Master Soryian...your presence is requested by the royal heirs, Prince Anton and Princess Arabelle."

Soryian, somewhat surprised, asked, "They asked for me specifically?"

"Yes, M'Lord...you are to meet them in their chambers."

Soryian nodded, and dismissed the man. Turning to his men, he shouted out, "Disengage and form ranks!"

Sparring partners quickly sheathed their weapons, and fell into line, standing at attention.

"Today's lesson is at an end. Good work, men. Return to your normal duties, and assemble here tomorrow morning. Do not be late."

"Dismissed."

He turned, slipping on his white shirt and replacing his practice swords with his favored weapons, not taking the time to buckle the scabbards on his back, but carrying them over his shoulder as he walked across the courtyard, and back into the castle, quickly moving through the hallways to the door to Prince Anton's chambers.

He did not stop to inform Lord Simon or Xavier of his summons...the commands of royalty superseded those of nobility...royalty made the rules, and as someone not of noble birth, it was not his place to question, but follow them posthaste.

He quickly buckled his scabbards in his typical criss-cross fashion across his back, before knocking upon the door and awaiting an invitation to enter.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Antar was amused at his sister's actions and noticed a cool reaction to the Lady Marotte when she entered without knocking. He thought the Lady Protector troublesome, but their Empress Mother had deemed her necessary for her two wayward children, so Antar suffered the Protector's arrogance.

"Lady Marrotte-" Antar was interrupted by a knock on the door, he nodded for the door to be opened, by the manservant. The swordsmen entered, his blades crossed on his back, the look in his eye severe. Antar was already bored with the overwhelming sense of honor of Marotte, Soryian was not a helpful addition. He simply decided to continue, his eyes flicking over the stern man.

"We are going for a ride, you both will serve as our guard. My sister and I will be taking the Lady Delara with us." Antar grinned as he let the cat out of the bag, making it know that a member of the Valstonia nobility was in their presence. " We are not going far, and I want to make it well known that what you hear and see there is not to be interrupted." He looked at both of them then, the look in his making it clear that the first man to interrupt him or share the details of what happened, would find their head suddenly separated from their bodies.

Arabelle chuckled lightly at the stern attitude of her brother, shaking her head as he doled out orders. She was still holding the shaking Lady Delara, who was still clad in nothing but a thin sheet. She kissed the noblewoman's shoulder and whispered to her.

"I cannot wait to hear you moan in supplication, my darling girl. And you will indeed moan for me. Won't you?" She tugged on the sheet as if to let the other woman know who was in charge.

Arabelle smiled at the frustration on the young noblewoman's face, and then turned her attention back to her brother who had continued to make sure that the guard understood that they were to be close but not too close. And that they knew that this would be for a couple of hours then they would be back at the castle this evening.

Arabelle wondered briefly if this was the best idea, but then brushed it aside confident in the ability of their guard. She also wondered if Xavier would wonder at their absence or if, and this made her smile, or if Lord Simons would join them. She almost hoped he would.

 

[Katamari Roller]

De Guinne spared a glance at the new arrival and a step sideways to make a bit of room for him. He looked like another Valstonian, which made de Guinne frown inside. It seemed Lord Simons had a few too many Valstonians serving him, and in positions of trust too. Then again, as much as de Guinne disliked them, she knew of worse people.

"We are going for a ride, you both will serve as our guard. My sister and I will be taking the Lady Delara with us." Antar grinned as he let the cat out of the bag, making it know that a member of the Valstonia nobility was in their presence. "We are not going far, and I want to make it well known that what you hear and see there is not to be interrupted."

De Guinne´s head turned up slightly as she looked down her mousey nose at the girl in Antar´s clutches. A Valstonian noble? Something clicked in her mind, and she crossed her arms over her open blouse, her eyes glancing for a moment at the prince before returning to the Valstonian, her penetrating stare boring into her like a drill. As far as Lady Marotte knew, the raiding party had no reason to go after Lord Simons, and surely they would not be stupid enough to go after the royal princes, who would be protected by some of the best troops in the Empire, one would expect. So perhaps they were going for a third target... in which case, having the princes right by the young woman would be a stupid danger indeed, one Lady Marotte would normally not run to. However, anyone daring enough to try mounting a raid in the Empire´s lands was worth killing or capturing.

The way things looked, de Guinne might as well accept the probabilities.

"I will have your servants prepare your carriage. You´ll be more comfortable, and have some intimacy too." She declared in a tone of voice that left no doubts about the difference between intention, and fact. She might as well have said that this was for the safety of the princes, but they did not seem smart enough to care about that, in her eyes. She turned and exited the room.

 

[monique_minx]

Delara looked on as the soldiers started arriving in the room to receive their orders and she hugged the sheet tighter to her body as a red flush spread over her cheeks in total embarrassment.

"We are going for a ride, you both will serve as our guard. My sister and I will be taking the Lady Delara with us."

Delara bowed her head in defeat as he told her secret, he’d betrayed her to everyone now. She had to get far away from Antar and Arabelle, God only knew what awaited her on this ride but she was certain that she didn’t want to feel Antar’s whip anymore than she wanted to lay on her back for the man. She felt Arabelle’s kiss on her shoulder and gave her attention as the woman whispered into her ear.

"I cannot wait to hear you moan in supplication, my darling girl. And you will indeed moan for me. Won't you?"

Arabelle tugged on the sheet as though she’d reveal Delara’s body to the soldiers at any moment. Delara hissed at her, “You won’t get one damn moan from me Arabelle. We used to be friends!”

She turned her head away purposefully, shuddering at the thought that she was about to become the feast of the two playful, troublesome royals. She really wanted to get dressed but she was certain if she did; she’d not return to the royals. They’d have to find her and drag her kicking and screaming first!

"I will have your servants prepare your carriage. You’ll be more comfortable, and have some intimacy too."

Delara shook her head sadly and kept her eyes firmly planted on the floor before she finally caved as Lady Marotte left the room to prepare things for the royals. She turned ever so slightly to speak to Arabelle.

“Will you at least grant me leave to go get dressed Highness?” She spoke as evenly and respectfully as she could muster, keeping her head bowed in subservience and humiliation.

 

[Bsquad]

OOC: Hi there everyone, I'd like to just say sorry to everyone about my lagging posting. I should have kept up but I dropped the ball rather badly due to a deluge of personal life stuff that a few of you know quite a bit about. But needless to say it was enough for me to be rather sufficently jolted out of Lit entirely that I've only just gotten back into the swing of things. Again, I'm sorry for my lax posting, and I can only ask for forgiveness.

IC:
Xavier knew more than one would expect. Lord Simons was a man who prided himeself on his knowledge and cunning, but Xavier had the added bonus of being able to learn things first hand instead of filtered through the ears and mouths of servants and informants. He had the ability to drift through the kitchens and servants quarters, through the barracks and practice fields. He heard the whispers, the rumors, the soft stories being told by the kitchen help. Voices that were uninterrupted told the most useful things. Stories of who hadd spent the night with who, of what tales were being told, of the things that had been requested, of the strange demands. He heard the story of a new maid being made to walk around in a bedsheet. About whispered stories of the nobles planning on an excursion with said serving maid who had captivated the Royals. Xavier couldn't say that information was well recived and remembered a fable that dated back to his homelands roots about the joys to be found in ignorance.

But ignorance was not an option at the moment, as plesant as it might have been to simply forget any of the unplesantness that had arisen from Delara's presence and the arrival of the Royals had thrown the castle from it's equalibrium. As he stood in the shadows of the upper levels Xavier watched the procession standing there, his mind wondering just what the spoiled royals were considering. Marrotte was there, as was Soryian, the two royals, and Delara, who was being regarded as a trinket to be toyed with. He didn't exactly apreciate the brazen treatment of a noble by these...uncouth Royals. Even in Valistonia had a greater regard for the dignity of a servant in the most barbaric realms than those two were treating Delara. But Xavier held his tounge, the pommel of his sword leaning on his shoulder as he walked through the halls towards the assemblage, a calm meanace to his steps.

He knew that the secret was gone, it would have been far too much, even the servants knew that Delara was more than she appeared. But Xavier knew that even though he was the only one Delara had willingly confided herself to, that would not last long. Arabelle and Antar knew, somehow...and they fancied it a game!

As he walked, the aura that seemed to surround him made the guards and servants slowly trace their gaze to him. There was something in his stance, his hodded eyes, his fixed violet eyes. In the sway of his bushy red ponytail as he walked, in the soft tapping of his sheathed blade against his shoulder, his hand on the scabbard just beneath the grip. His demeanor was one of veiled threat, of danger, of a man who knew more than others knew...and yet didn't know everything that they knew. He was slow and careful with his stride. But those guards that were near him took an uneasy step away, as if they were worried that the closest among them would become foe without consideration. Xaviers violet eyes lingered on Delara and then left her, looking at Arabelle as he stoped walking and stood a few places away from Lady Marotte.

"I see that you have an excursion planned, a most unusual decision given the reports that have been provided to us." Xavier said, and his voice held no overt emotion, and almost had the feel of an instructor pointing out the flaws in a student's calculations...a foolish mistake to be reprimanded for it's mere existence.

"I trust that you have undertaken adequate measures for your protection?" Xavier said as his eyes tracked to Soriyan and then to Lady Marotte. He didn't adress the lower ranking member of Lord Simons' guard force, instead he merely looked across them, studying the Royal's choice in the matter for a moment and then easing back, his demanor settling to one of casual disregard, he didn't even give Delara another glance. Even if she had been introduced as a Lady, here and now, she was being treated as little more than a toy by two spoiled nobles. It sickened him, but what more could he expect from them? They were savages. Powerful, wealthy, but still savages.

Xavier forced himself to restrain a sneer as he spoke, the level expression on his face was much the kind that servants put on when they wished to hide their true feelings. A mask, to be worn as needed to decive others. Xavier was quite good. Something learned in the noble houses of his homeland and then refined here in the Empire. With Royals, he had learned it well.

"Will the servant be enough for the two of you? Or would you prefer additional entertainment?" He said, the words both blunt and nonchallant. As if he had just asked if the wine were good enough, and should more be sent for. Not asking if one woman was enough of a plaything for their lusts. Before he could allow himself to hear an answer to the idea, he turned slowly, without casting a glance at any of them, his ponytail swaying in obvious disdain. He walked slowly across the room to the door and paused there, looking over his shoulder, his Violet eyes gazing back at them.

"I'll leave your requirements to the household staff. They have experiance with such things. Just as your servant does." Xavier said finally and left the door with a swish of crimson, the flutter of green robes, and the backward glance of eyes that seemed laced with gold...and disgust. He stalked through the passages, towards Lord Simons' meeting room and slipped in as the Lord began speaking, merely standing in the shadows and watching the briefing. He'd heard much of it from the scouts and dispatch riders, such was the privelege of being the Lord's handpicked bodyguard. His title of Sergeant had been mostly an honorific, but it did have it's uses, even if the origin of the term had roots in a verson of the word 'servant'. Xavier leaned against the wall and watched, his sword resting gently against his shoulder, but his mind still seething form the thoughts of what those Royals would be doing to Delara and he felt a stab of pain at the thought. She was a noble, and he felt strongly for her...yet right now -even with the facade torn away- he still had to remain loyal to Lord Simons and his requirements. It wasn't a hard thing for him to do, Lord Simons was a man of honor, who'd earned his place, not like those corrupted young heirs to the Crown of the Empire. No...they were hedonists...

Hedonists...

The word grated inside of his head. Such a statment was a high insult to where he came from. His people's lifestyle, religion, society, they were ones of minimalism, of sacrafice. His people were viewed strangely by their own kin in Valistonia, normally becoming honed warriors, scholars and such, pursuits that require total devotion to body and mind. Where he was from...Hedonism in any form, of indulgence, of glutony, of wastage of your life, such a thing was shunned, far worse than any kind of crime. In the shadows, Xavier scowled slightly...to have such power, to have such privelege and merely waste it on pleasure...

...it was revolting to him, on a deep and visceral level. Lord Simons had his moments, many of the nobility in the Empire had far worse indulgence...but right now, those Royals, and their treatment of Delara, someone they KNEW to be of Valistonia...

Xavier shook his head in silence and worked to focus on the Lord's words. Perhaps someday, he could return to his homeland. Perhaps he could leave the hedonists behind.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Antar watched as things progressed. Marotte would have the carriage prepared, which in and of itself was a good idea. They would be secluded enough during the ride to have some fun within. Antar realized the security of it to, but he didn't care about that. He firmly believed he could hold his own against an enemy.

"Soryian, stay with us until the carriage is prepared and then lead the way. I have no need to suffer the wishes of--" Antar was cut off by the entrance of Xavier.

The man talked about security, and something else. But Antar was already not paying attention, he gestured for his manservant to follow the sergeant, and then turned his attentions back to his sister. Arabelle was holding Delara close and while the little chit had already asked for clothing, he knew his sister wouldn't allow it.

Finally with a huff, Xavier exited the room. And Antar turned back to Soryian.

"As I was saying, we don't need to suffer the wishes of any lordlings." Antar was not about to let Lord Simons stop them from having fun with his former new slave.

​

Arabelle caressed the woman in her arms, and even though she had asked for clothing. She just shook her head no, and cooed softly in Delara's ear. She felt the woman stiffen under her touch and she just smiled.

"Don't worry, Delara we will take very good care of you, and make sure you enjoy us both.. immensely." She kissed her then soft and sweet, till she could feel the former Lady start to move into her. She smiled against her lips.

"You will be so hot. I know it." Arabelle grinned wickedly, and then looked up at her brother who was watching the two of them. She had heard Xavier's little speech and felt the woman in her arms jump at his voice. There had been hope in her eyes, which had been replaced with a sort of dead look, like something had changed.

Arabelle was sensitive to these things, she was also aware of the tension between her brother and Delara. And Delara and Xavier. Then these raiders, and danger afoot. It was so exciting! Whatever happened next would be, would be, well, it better be dramatic! Arabelle was getting bored.

((Arabelle, Antar and Delara with Soryian in Antar's chambers getting ready to leave))

 

[monique_minx]

Delara - Antar's chambers

Delara froze up as Arabelle continued to make her uncomfortable, she set her jaw as she was denied clothing and blushed a bright crimson at the thought of leaving the room wrapped in a sheet.

"Don't worry, Delara we will take very good care of you, and make sure you enjoy us both.. immensely."

Before Delara could respond; Arabelle pressed against her and kissed her. Delara whimpered into it in surprise and gasped as the Princess released her.

"You will be so hot. I know it."

Delara looked away in shame, brought back to the attention of the room by another familiar voice, she jolted against Arabelle.

"Will the servant be enough for the two of you? Or would you prefer additional entertainment?"

She flushed a severe red colour as she lifted her eyes to see Xavier, she pleaded with him silently to understand and to help her but he barely even looked at her. She watched him take his leave and the colour drained from her face, she couldn’t believe it. He did nothing and just left her there. She felt like he had lied to her; he would not protect her and he didn’t feel a thing for her. It was almost as though he had run her through or cut her heart out.

“X-Xav….ier…” She murmured helplessly, hanging her head again.

"As I was saying, we don't need to suffer the wishes of any lordlings."

Delara swallowed, she felt doomed and overcome as she inspected her feet. Lord Simons frustrated her but she wished he would burst in right now and do something. It was not a matter of one being better than the other, she simply preferred the neither option…which didn’t happen to be an option in any case. There was a gentle knock at the door and the kitchen maid from earlier entered the room with a curtsy to each Royal.

“Your carriage is ready Highness and Lady Marotte awaits you both.” Marietta shot Delara a smug look that she was about to get what she deserved for embarrassing her in the kitchen. Marietta curtsied again, “I hope you enjoy your ride.” Her eyes glinting knowingly as she exited the room and left Delara to scowl at her back.

“Little…” Delara muttered, catching herself; she found it hard to take that as a noble she could very well have that woman whipped til she begged for death, here though; Delara could just as easily be taking her place.