Ooc: tags to
@DragonSong
When he had awoken he knew surely of two thing: that his head was hammering with the worst headache of his entire life and that he had to piss. He was disoriented as he slipped out of bed, scrambled over towards a copper chamber pot to relieve himself. As he did so, he began to take stock of his surroundings- a table that wasn't his, the nearby chair wasn't his, the chamber pot wasn't his, and neither was the bed nor the entire room. As he finished up, he also realized he was missing a few things, his shirt, socks and boots.
Bare toes wriggled against the hard wood floors, and his pale eyes cut through the room- scanning for trouble. Part of him wondered if his former partner had showed up- the former Duke of Allar- Audric Molneaux. It was in his taste to show up during such inconveniences...
But the Duke had moved south to protect hid family, one of his children had come out as a mage. Leif had been the one to guide them, set them on the course south and saw them escorted to the mountains.
That was the last time he had seen his only friend. And with his wife gone, he was alone, like the painting on the wall of a mountain range. Not a human in sight. But perhaps it was for the best. Even still, the painting looked empty.
He continued to look around, cautiously walking through the room for any clues. When he drew back the curtain, he needed to shield his eyes from the damn sun. The rays were near blinding. But as his eyes adjusted he noted the streets. He was still in Reajh.
So someone brought him to a home in the city. And it wasn't his. Warily he made his way towards the door and listened. He didn't hear anything on the other side but down the hall he could hear foot steps approaching and squatted down as he leaned forward to peer through the key hole and to see what was on the other side.
"I cannot believe you--"
"What was I supposed to do, Misha? They were going to assassinate him!"
"Connlaoth's political bullshit is not our problem, Reina."
"It's about to be your problem, brother mine--or have you forgotten your engagement so soon?"
Mikhail glowered at her. "That doesn't explain why you--damnit, Rey, he's a mordecai, what makes you think--?"
She waved a hand, scoffing. "He already knows I'm a mage, didn't seem to care much. Besides, I've got diplomatic immunity from...whatever fuckery these people are up to in these backwards mountains."
Her brother cursed in Old Serenian--something he only did when he really wanted to annoy her--and threw his hands up. "Fine. Fine. I'll keep your bloody secret. But you owe me, Rey."
Without deigning to give him a response, Reina turned on her heel and stormed into the side bedroom where she'd stashed the duke the night before, away from the eyes of her parents.
He didn't get a chance to back away from the door before it was too late. It swung open and hit him square in the nose. The Duke cried out as he stumbled back, smashing into the nearby furniture but not making purchase as he continued his painful descent until he crashed with a clang and a splash... with one hand in the once full chamber pot that now lay empty against his side. And urine soaked everything. In hs hair, on his bare chest, soaking his pants... everything .
"Oh, well that's...lovely." Reina sighed raising one hand to daintily cover her nose and mouth. "There's a washroom through that door," she told him, gesturing with her free hand to the slim door set into the back wall. "I suggest you clean yourself up, Your Grace, and then we can have a conversation about...what exactly it is I'm supposed to do with you."
She looked at the mess, nose wrinkled, and clicked her tongue. "I do so want to avoid involving the staff, which I suppose means it's left to me to clean...this. Joy."
The scowl on his face was immeasurabley dour. And he was stiff as he slowly picked himself off the ground, eyes flaring a dangerous shade as he kept his gaze upon her.
"You might want to begin with explaining why I'm here and where the hell the other half of my clothes have gone."
He wasn't about to put his back to her. He didn't personally know this woman and as unsettling as the urine dribbling down his body was,.. if she has ill intent, he wasn't about to expose himself so openly.
“You are here, sir Duke, because someone was trying to kill you,” Reina told him bluntly. She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow, keeping her gaze squarely on his face—which she thought she might deserve some sort of commendation for.
“Your clothes are being laundered. They were something of a mess, as you’d been sick on yourself. Don’t worry, my brother was the one who undressed you, so your dignity remains intact.” She eyed him. “Or at least it did, until a few moments ago.”
She hesitated a moment, not wanting to turn her back to a stranger, even if she was trying to save his life—but then good breeding won out and she turned to face the wall with an exasperated sigh. “Now would you please kindly clean yourself up? I refuse to carry on a proper conversation with someone reeking of piss.”
Leif kept his gaze hard, eyes unreadable.
"I would need a bath to get rid of all this." His words were almost a sneer. Then again, his head was pounding and this situation was hardly ideal.
"And as I said," Reina told the wall with distinct deliberation, "there is a washroom through the door behind you. There should be a robe for your modesty, and I'm...happy to heat the water for you, if you can stomach a mage's work. And keep a lock on your field."
She certainly didn't sound happy about it, but she could be a good hostess. Odd circumstances aside.
His eyes narrowed.
"You know I'm mordecai?"
Reina continued to hold his eyes, unflinching. "Yes. You may be too drunk to recall, but I performed a rather impressive fiddly little bit of magic in front of you last night. It was no easy feat with all the mordecai at that ball, and especially not standing if right next to you. Honestly, I could probably publish a paper about it, if I was so inclined." She shrugged. "You were quite drunk, so that may have had something to do with it.
Drunk.. right.. it's why his head still pounded. He cautiously rose from the floor then made his way towards the bath. There was a tub already full of scented waters and he didn't waste time undressing before sinking in and letting as much of himself sink into the waters as possible, and holding his breath beneath it fir as long as it'd take. He looked and felt miserable and the fact he was covered in urine made him all the more tart.
True to her word, Reina cleaned up the mess in the guest room without involving their temporary staff. It was almost impossible to use her magic with a mordecai so close, but she managed to make the task just a bit easier on herself.
Eventually, she stood outside the door to the washroom and knocked twice sharply. "You Grace, if you'd be so kind, my family is on a rather tight schedule this morning. We'd best have some sort of plan in place before we have to go."
He could barely make out she was talking, for he was still submerged. He didn't answer though, and continued to wait beneath the waters until his lungs burned in protest for air. He resurfaced with a gasp, water having plastered down his hair about his face. And he just sat there, letting the waters dribble down before closing his eyes as he leaned back in the tub- his legs (which he was still clothed in his pants) stuck up to accommodate his height.
After listening to the splashing for a moment, Reina cleared her throat and raised her voice. "Did you hear me, your grace? We are leaving soon, and there is clearly a situation that must be dealt with here."
This time the Duke had heard her but sat there in the bath for a long moment before he replied.
"Did I miss something. Are we going to be late for a ball?" He said tartly.
"Not we, serrah. My brother and I." She sighed and pinched at the bridge of her nose. "Can I trust you to stay out of trouble for an hour or so while we're gone?"
The duke made a face- not that she could see it. He simply stretched back further in the bath, sighing as he felt some tension leave his back.
"So you're leaving a strange man unattended in your home. What a trusting woman. Clearly not one of Connlaothian make." The sarcasm was thick on his voice, but it carried well enough through the door.
"Of course not," Reina snipped back, leaning against the wall beside the door and crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm far too pleasant to be of Connlaothian stock."
She tipped her head back to rest against the wall w h a small sigh. "I'm Serenian, if you'll recall. My family is here on a...diplomatic errand of sorts." Raising her voice a bit, she added pointedly, "And you are not unattended. There's the household staff about if you try to pull something untoward. But I doubt you will, as I did save your life last night. You rather owe me, Your Grace."
Leif remained quiet as he thought that one over.
'It seems I do.'
She'd hear him moving in the bath.
"So is my repayment to be on good behavior?" He drawled. That wasn't pleasant. But as she said....
He was indebted to her with his life.
Reina almost laughed despite herself. Gods, she'd readily met someone so ornery. It was entertaining, in its own way.
"Until I return and we can get you safely back home, yes," she replied lazily. "Though I wouldn't say no to some nice jewelry or a Connlaothian title, I'd you still feel so indebted."
She was so straight-faced it was difficult to tell if she was joking, save for the tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth. Though with the door between them, it's not as though the duke would see that.
His brows raised.
"A serenian duchess? That's heresy," came his voice, a drawl laced with mockery. He paused for a moment before speaking again.
"You have my word I.. shall remain behaved until your return."
"Haven't you heard? Heresy is all the rage these days."
Smiling a bit to herself, Reina added, "And you have my thanks. I promise you won't have to remain behaved for long."
Leif snorted, not that she'd hear it. Green eyes went to the wall, staring listless for a moment.
"How long shall I have to wait?"
"Hopefully not more than two hours," Reina replied quickly. "After that...well, there's nothing really keeping you here. But I'm not sure how much you know about those two men who were trying to kill you last night—it might not be safe for you to be out alone."
Leif pursed his lips.
"We'll talk when you return." And he closed his eyes, his statement implying the end of the conversations, or perhaps he just wished it so.
His head was pounding and he wished he had more to drink.
Reina was gone for nearly two and a half hours before she returned to the townhouse her family had rented for the duration of their stay in the country.
And it was two hours too long, in her opinion. Gods, her brother was an idiot.
She sighed, rubbing her temples as she made her way back to the room where the erstwhile Duke was being hosted.
By the time the woman returned, the Duke was sitting casual, but neatly , on a chaise lounge with green eyes trained on a book. If he heard her return, he made no motion in reply.
"Good book?"
Reina breezed into the room like she owned it—which, technically, she did—and promptly moved to the small vanity to begin pulling the pins and ties from her hair, allowing it to curl down around her shoulders.
"Honestly, I'm not sure I expected you to still be here," she noted blithely.
Duke Arrant didn't stir, eyes still trained towards the book. He turned a page.
"Dour evening?"
"Oh no. Far too lively, actually."
She turned to face him, propping one hip against the edge of the vanity and folding her arms loosely over her chest. "But you don't really care about my evening, do you, your grace?"
"About as much as you'd care for mine," he drawled. There was a silence before he responded to her earlier question.
"And I'm here because I owe a debt."
And he wasn't fond of the notion, either.
"I might be an asshole, but I'm not that kind of an asshole," he admitted, closing his book and finally peering over in her direction.
"A debt, hm?" She cocked her head and arched one eyebrow even higher. With her hair down, in a regular walking dress, rather than the ball gown he'd seen her in before, she looked...sweet. Verging on "naive"—if it weren't for the sharp intelligence behind her eyes.
"I suppose I did save your life," she drawled lazily. "Some might call that a kind of debt, mm?" She tilted her head the other way. "Just how were you planning on paying it?"
His gaze was implacable.
"If I knew that answer, I still wouldn't be here," he assured her, words cold as stone.
She merely raised her eyebrows a little higher at him. "Well, that tone is certainly not the most polite place to begin," she pointed out with all the infuriating calm of a woman who had been raised on manners and decorum classes just as much as mother's milk. "But if you're so determined to pay me back regardless—what exactly can you do for me, your grace? Perhaps that might spark some ideas."
The Duke gave her a long eyed gaze.
"We live in politics. I assure you, as a Serenain, there must be at least something of interest from us priggish Connlothians. Money, connections, power.." he shrugged. "I do owe you a life."
"Hmmmm..." Reina tapped a finger to her lips, considering.
Money? She had access to a lefty of that, should she wish it. Technically, the inheritance was Mischa's—but both she and her brother knew he really had no right to deny her a few eccentricities, should she ask.
Connections? With her brother's upcoming marriage, she couldn't imagine the family needed a much stronger ties to Connlaothian nobility. Though there was always the chance the marriage might fall through...
Power? Now, that might be interesting. Maybe.
"What sort of power do you mean?" she asked after a moment.
Leif hadn't been entirely ready for her to take that bait, but who was he to care of consequence?
"Connections, status, marriage.." he shrugged. "Although I'm sure your brother's arrangements offer some of those. " He'd shrug if he cared. "I suppose I could offer you the same."
Her eyebrows shot up.
"The same...you mean a marriage?"
Well.
That...was certainly a thought.
Huh.
He gave a slow tilt of hid head. He wasn't exactly meaning to take her off guard. Were not all nobles the same? Men had connections, could host marriages and engagements and...
He stiffened.
Oh.
Her thoughts went to....
Well, he supposed it wouldn't matter who ended up as his next wife. A Serenian would give the whole country the middle finger....
And she wasn't bad to look at. Maybe she'd atleast be good I'm bed. He'd kept himself mostly untouched since his wife's passing....
But He'd mourn that forever.
And would die alone for her if he could.
But here he was.
Alive.
Still in the damn politics game.
And he owed his life to a Serenian.
"That would be your own choice of sentence "
There were, of course, worse options , he imagined. Older,vulgar men...
If she cared for looks, atleast he was of good stock, a sturdy bloodline.
Purely Connlaothian.
And he was... not exactly the best husband material but he'd be fair enough if she were owed it
Reina considered that.
It wasn't...the worst idea. Even with Misha's marriage in place, stronger connections outside of Serendipity could certainly be leveraged to their benefit, with the right considerations.
But...well, she didn't particularly want to be married. Particularly not to a man she'd met only the night before, who seemed to have a propensity for drink. And general churlishness.
"I'll...consider it," she said slowly.
And than a thought struck her: a vaguely mad thought, but one she couldn't shake.
"Your Grace...I don't suppose you're in need of a court sorcerer?"
It was the last thing he expected to hear, and infact were things not so brilliantly fucked up in his own life, he would have has so many sharp and cutting replies that her simple and very honest inquiry almost had him choke.
And then the very rare act came sounding, even alien sounding to theman himself, as Leif Arrant, Stone cold Duke of Castavar, unknown hero of the masked shadows and champion of the no ones...
Fucking began to laugh.
Reina waited, arms folded loosely over her chest and head cocked to one side as she observed him.
She supposed it was an odd question, given their locale. But...
Well. She could be a conniving little snake, when she put her mind to it. And she had an idea.
Quirking a single eyebrow, she waited a few moments longer then asked pleasantly, "Are you quite alright, your grace?"
Leif afforded himself this luxury. When was the last time he truly laughed? He eventually calmed and eyed the Serenian.
"I don't think you're ignorant enough for me to explain myself, but you have my ears."
She, however, might have something worth a say.
"Well, you see, I have a thought." She propped her hip against the vanity and trained her icy blue eyes on him, excitement burning in their depths though she kept her tone even. "I have spent the better part of the last few months familiarizing myself with Connlathian international diplomatic procedures and such. Unless I am missing something obvious, a foreign dignitary—such as myself—maintains diplomatic immunity so long as they cannot be proven to have harmed or intend harm upon a Connlaothian citizen."
She laced her fingers in front of her skirts, tossing her hair back in a slight nervous habit before she continued, "There is no provision I have come across that exempts mages from this law. So. Theoretically, if a member of Connlaothian nobility—a Duke, for example—were to host a Serenian diplomat and scion of a noble house, such a diplomat would legally be considered part of the host's court and retain her diplomatic immunity in regard to the use of benign magics."
She smiled at him. "I could really study here. Without my family breathing down my neck, I could hone my craft—and they wouldn't be able to complain of my lack of ambition, because I'd be pioneering diplomatic relations with Connlaoth. And you would have a mage in your court—which, considering last night's events, might prove very useful to you. Everyone wins."
Leif regarded her.
"You're serious." He shook.his head, looking away before returning his gaze back to her.
"You smoke?" He asked after a moment, flicking open one of the buttons on his collar. He then went about loosening the buttons on his wrist cuffs.
Reina sighed.
"No. I don't. It's not a healthy habit, you know."
She waited a moment, then confirmed, "And yes, I am quite serious."
"Well I smoke. You got a light?"
She sighed again and rolled her eyes. "Can you contain your field? It will be much simpler for me to light it with magic than to go hunting for a pack of matches in this place."
True, fire wasn't her strong suit, but all she needed was a spark. Mage-gifted babies could handle that.
Leif raised a single brow, not getting what she asked before he realized what she said.
"It's not something one controls, " he replied, tartly. Then he turned from her and sighed.
He wasn't about to wait for matches, so he began to climb the nearest piece of furniture and precariously lit his cigar off the flames from the room's small chandelier.
Reina quirked an eyebrow. "Well. That's certainly one solution."
Leif stepped down, puffs of smoke lightly circling his form.
"I wasn't waiting for matches " he told her bluntly. Or even magic, it seemed. He took in a good long drag before exhaling in the direction behind himself, the smoke wafting up around and fading beside his dark hair.
"I don't think you understand Connlaoth, " he said after a time, almost chewing over his smoke, it's thoughts .
She shrugged. "Perhaps I don't. But you could teach me." She gave him her most winning smile. "You do still owe me for your life, after all. So tell me—what don't I understand?"
Leif took in a long drag, the smoke curling into dissipating wisps between them. Then he exhaled the smoke away and told her simply.
"War."
Her eyebrow quirked higher. "Well...naturally. I am not a soldier, your grace. No matter how well versed I may be on mechanics and tactics, I will never truly understand war."
She crossed the room to look out the window, down into the street. So much like back home, and yet so different. "Why do you believe this war to be an insurmountable thing? There are duchies coming out in support of mages' rights, are there not?"
Leif frowned. It must have been nice to be so naive.
"As long as the Grand Duke commands it, mages are still royally fucked."
"Connlaothian mages, sure," Reina replied with a shrug. "To my eternal gratitude, I happen to be Serenian. I think you underestimate just how very much the right diplomat positioned in the right court can get away with."
Leif thoughtfully chewed on her words. She had a very good point- for despite the war and it's politics, those wishing to remain trade partners and in good standing with Serendipity in the south...
their mages were nearly immune to all the bull shit.
He could have smiled. Maybe he did.
Smoke drifted casually between the pair.
"I'll... consider it..." he eyed her, bemused. "Your family that rotten?" he then added, taking another long drag.
Reina sighed and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as her head thumped gently against the damasked wallpaper.
"They really aren't," she replied after a moment, sounding tired. "They just... They have a very specific idea of the way I'm meant to live my life. I happen to disagree."
She opened her eyes and let her head lull to the side a bit as she looked at him. "How long should I give you to consider the offer? We'll be in the city for the next few weeks, at the least."
It was strange, somehow these pair- who seemed to have had little in common, just seemed to have a lot in common. At least, know Leif had a better understanding. He could respect what she meant. He too, had always lived at odds with his parents- and even the political bull-shit infested world he had to live.
And she wanted to trade one bull-shit world for another.
He slowly breathed out more smoke.
"Are you trying to avoid a marriage back in Serendipity?"
She seemed a bit old to be unwed. And if her match wasn't too pleasing...
That he could also understand. He never thought it right to pair two strangers together for gainsay of money and power...
However, his own betrothed.. his own wife...
Well, she had been a different story.
Another sigh, and Reina abruptly pushed herself off of the wall to flip back along the bed side him, hair spilling haphazardly over the mattress as she stared balefully up at the ceiling.
"Not specifically," she muttered eventually. "But once my brother is engaged in wedded bliss, which is happening sooner rather than later, well...I'm the only other child left for my parents to meddle with."
Leif digested what she said.
"After I've returned home, give me a day to think over your proposal."
He didn't fancy the idea of openly 'babysitting ' a foreign mage, not because of appearance, but he'd rather not have yet another body to care for.
But he did owe her.
"A day it is, then."
She cocked her head at him and extended her hand from her reclined position. "Shake on it?"
She didn't love being so close to a mordecai—the stifling feeling in her magic made her skin itch—but she supposed she'd better get used to it. Just in case.
Leif stared at the out stretched hand, smoke drifting casually between them.
"You don't trust my word?"
Once again, she found herself rolling her eyes. "Hardly. But what do you think I'm going to do, spell you into a contract? I can't magic you, Ser Mordecai, in case you'd forgotten."
She wiggled her fingers at him expectantly. "It's just a handshake, Your Grace. I promise, I don't bite."
Leif's smile turned wooden.
"That's not what I meant." He eyed her hand. "Or what I fear."
He hardly could forget what he was. "I simply mock the idea of a hand shake." The smile continued, fake and forced.
"But if you need it's assurance..." he put his hand out, expectantly.
Despite his apparent disdain for the concept, Reina shook his hand firmly.
"I believe we have a deal, Your Grace," she told him with a crooked smile. "Now. It would probably be prudent for you to abscond from our lovely accommodations here as subtly as possible; my family with be dealing with my darling brother's wedding drama for a while yet, now is probably your best chance."
She propped herself up on one arm. "I do expect to be hearing from you by day's end tomorrow. And I'm sure you don't want to keep a lady waiting."
Leif chewed on his cigar as he studied her.
"Than allow me to take the time to extend the invitation now. If you'd feel so inclined to oblige me, we can converse over these affairs over dinner at my keep. Assuming, you can spare the time? Castavar castle would be nearly half a day's travel from your current accommodations. "
"I'll make it work," Reina responded, with a smile like a summer rain and steel in her voice. "I will likely have to bring a chaperone--I assume that's acceptable?"
"The more the merrier. "
His smile was as fake as it could be before it was washed away by more smoke.
"I suppose I shall call for my carriage now. Do you have an errand boy to spare?"
"We do, but you certainly won't be using him," she replied crisply, pushing herself up off of the bed. "I went through quite a bit of effort to ensure none of the staff know you're here, and I intend to keep it that way. I'll call the carriage for you. Will a regular cabby do, or do you have a driver I'm meant to track down?"
Leif sighed impatiently. Right. He'd almost forgotten.
"I don't mind a cab, but I had my own valet before I was kidnapped."
"Kidnapped, absconded from assassins, tomato tomahto," Reina snipped back. "Believe me, your grace, it would have been much easier for me to leave you insensibly intoxicated on that balcony."
She shot him another winning smile as she strode back out of the room and went to call a cab, making sure first to send their hired housekeeper to the other end of the house on a quick errand.
It was strange to depart another nobles house in secret, especially if it wasn't a woman he was in bed with. He supposed they were in bed in another way. Things would have been different in his youth. He'd probably have spent another night.
But ever since he had been married.... and lost his wife...
The thoughts faded away as he took Reina's hand and kissed the top of it, respectfully.
"Until tomorrow then."
Reina blinked, a little taken aback by the genteel gesture. She curtsied automatically.
"Until tomorrow, your grace..."
She watched the carriage roll away, turning over what had just happened in her mind.
Was this a good idea?
She honestly didn't know. But she found she was quite excited to find out.