Spirits of the Earth

The midday sun beamed through a singular set of north-facing windows into a relatively spacious, yet strangely cramped room. At the height of Ardal's capital, the duke's estate had withstood the test of time and the passing of the throne across multiple leaders-- yet it's facilities remained in sterling condition in spite of this. Perhaps that was due in part to the emphasis that Valen-- or at least Valen's family-- put on ensuring that the standards of the building were checked at least once every passing season. It was a symbol of pride-- not just for the Nox family, or even the council, but for all of Ardal. The least he could do was ensure it was properly kept up.

Yet that one room on the third floor of the castle, with it's long, north-facing window being the only natural light that illuminated it's wide scope, was comparatively 'homely'. It wasn't a dirty room by any means; Valen kept it fairly tidy, given how often he retreated to it. However, where the rest of the rooms were primarily void of signs of constant life, this one seemed fairly 'lived in'. It was the Duke's solar, after all; It only made sense that he would spend the majority of his personal time there.

The walls were lined with an impressive assortment of books; Most historical in nature, some autobiographies of former dukes, records of previously passed laws, edicts from the Grand Duke, and so forth. For the most part, it was all very, very boring-- especially for someone who valued literally anything other than knowing the goings-on of the duchy and it's surrounding events. For Valen, however, it was all very important information for him to spend as much time as he could set aside to study.

Court had just adjourned over another rather tiring series of updates regarding the state of the capital and it's surrounding villas, and Valen, having no further appointments planned for the remainder of the day, had retired to the solar in order to read. As duke, he was expected to be a strong, wise, and impartial leader of the duchy-- and while he wasn't particularly strong, nor did he feel he was the best judge of how impartial he was as a leader, he could at least work on the wisdom part as best he could.

The room itself was heavily candle-lit in the evenings, but with this much light in the sunny afternoons, only a few corners needed to be illuminated. Soft, artificial carpets covered key points in the solar; The large, rectangular oak table that sat strategically in front of the north-facing windows being one location. A fairly decorated chair seated Valen, who was lost in the midst of a document regarding upcoming proposals for the capital's seasonal events. "We should have the horses for that... but I worry that if the capital is the primary starting point, it may be too strenuous on the stable owners..." He absentmindedly muttered, his golden locks falling into his face due to an accidental shift in his posture.

He briefly wondered if other dukes took their roles as seriously or struggled with such issues as he did... before sighing, and mentally chastising himself over the thought. He was barely a duke in the first place-- it was much too arrogant of him to question such a thing.

The brute of a man she clung onto climbed the keeps walls with the ease of a spider. He was already a naturally strong man, but his 'magics' elevated his abilities to feats most would ever dream of. Of all the men she came to work with, despite his magically enhanced strength, he was the only one (outside of her brother), she trusted the most. But she didn't trust him fully. No, she supposed She never would.  But the job required a certain method to obtain this intel, and she and Vaelyn and Wrent were both the perfect candidates from their team for the job.

It was a bold move, to have Wrent climb the castle during the day. But they had scouted the area and routines of the soldiers who patrolled and now was as good a time as any to begin their ascent. Vaelyn needn't do much, masking their movements at first, but now that they were nearly at the roof top, she knew no one would be able to hear them easily.

Wrent got them there in a hurry, kneeling down to let the girl climb off his back. Vaelyn did so silently, even without the aid of her magics, but she tapped into a small bit of them when her feet stepped onto the roof's shingles.

She didn't need the noise from them setting off any alarms and she nodded to Wrent for him to follow. They chose this side of the building not because it was anywhere near their desired location, but because it was more secluded , and more often than not- less patrolled.

Now was the tricky part- navigating the roof top. The pair were a strange lot moving along the rising and falls of the taller, triangular pointed rooves- one being a slim waif of a girl, the other being a heavily muscled beast of a man. But both seemed to move with the ease of a spider, until they got so far that the ledges, as predicted, would grow narrow as they passed through a series of windows. This is where she and Wrent parted ways. He'd hang out on the roof for her return and she'd continue on, towards the towering building across the way that indicates the solar.

Their Intel provided stated the new Duke often kept quarters here versus his own room, and most of the time on privacy.  The tower, built of stone, had just one set of north facing windows she had to navigate, so if the Duke were already in the room, it would prove a challenge to enter. Not undoable by any means, it was just always easier for a spy to make their entrance when no one was around, and as Vaelyn approached the windows, she was certain to turn on her magics, muffling her movements as she made her way carefully towards the stone sill . It was a precarious situation to travel by rooftop, and the keep's tall rooves adding an equally harder level to the task than she'd have liked, but she had the litheness and even despite her small frame, the strength to carry herself up onto the window with ease. 

She had timed the climb so she'd peek into the window as soon as the clouds rolling in cast out the sun, and one her world dimmed, she slowly poked her head up and peered into the window, allowing her eyes to adjust. But when they did, a breath caught in her throat at rhe sight- for the Duke in question was already inside.

She held her breath, despite her powers to quell sound, but was soon cursing as rhe clouds rolled away, exposing her to shadow casting as she crouched down and hoped the man hasn't noticed. From what he gathered he had been reading a book, but where he was stationed was within the full light of the windows.

Damn. He just had to be there. This just made her job exponentially more difficult. 

Valen had been pouring over notes regarding an event scheduled to take place in the summer, and another in the autumn-- Ardal's population was quite patriotic to it's traditions and events, the boy had learned over the past few months he'd spent as duke, and ensuring that there were no problems preventing the successful execution of some of the people's favorite pastimes would serve as a good morale-boost for the duchy, especially in the face of war as things were. It was all he could do to provide some sense of normalcy to the people of Ardal to, at the very least, make certain that what they found joy in wasn't taken away from them.

It was all he could do... yes. As a candle light flickered on an opposing wall, Valen's mind lingered on the thought. It wasn't exactly incorrect to say that he could do very little in the grand scheme of things, for the duchy. He knew this well-- the council of Ardal, which predated his seating at the throne, were the ones who looked after the more pressing issues of the duchy. The allocation of men towards the duchy's borders, tax levies, even law enforcement across the smaller villages that dotted their stretch of land... Valen had very little interaction with it all. The claim was that, as he became more accustomed to the role of Duke, they sought to ensure that he wasn't overwhelmed, and truly, he did appreciate that, but... He couldn't help but wish he were more helpful, in spite of it.

But then, what did 'helpful' mean? He was no warrior, no battle-tested veteran like the dukes before him. His father, Evan, was a far more decorated leader-- He would've likely made a better duke than he. The thoughts clouded Valen's mind like a murky fog, and before he could truly lose focus worrying about the unchangeable, he stopped-- leaning back in his chair a bit, and giving his eyes a good rub-- almost as if to massage the stress away. Yes, there was no use worrying about how effective of a duke he was or was not-- what mattered was that he did what he could to serve the people, as any duke should. And so he began to look back down at the documents before him, before his attention was unexpectedly caught by something he didn't recognize-- a shadow in the light of the north-facing windowsill that illuminated his solar.

"...What is..." He began, his attention distracted from the table by the shadow. Was that... a human shadow? He'd almost turned to look at the window and confirm, before his attention was caught instead by a sudden clattering of books. Valen's eyes snapped to the opposite side of the room, where an admittedly unstable stack of tomes he'd been reading earlier in the day had fallen over, littering the floor near the entrance. "Oh-- goodness, what was I thinking..." He chastised himself, immediately lifting himself from his chair with a start, his golden locks bouncing with the sudden movement. One thing that a duke could not allow themselves to be perceived as is untidy, or improper-- his mother and father had scored that into his mind of the past few months, and the maids of the estate were equally fretful of his oftentimes absentmindedness in this regard. He didn't want to be scolded over it again...

Thus did he quickly move to the opposite side of the room, collecting and putting away the books that had fallen over back onto a nearby shelf, in their proper directories. The shadow in the windowsill was pushed almost immediately to the farthest reaches of his mind as he worked quickly to clean the mess. It would've been just his luck if a member of the council came waltzing in, only to stumble over a book... he couldn't allow that to happen.

She held her breath and waited. She didn't know exactly what she waited for, but her ears perked up to a sound down below. Then she heard his chair scrape backwards as he stood. It sounded like something had fallen over. And the footfalls.. were they moving away?

The cloud cover quickly returned, aiding her confidence as she peeked up into the window sill and back down into the room. She nearly jumped out if her skin as the man moved to turn and... she froze, was he going to find her? But then... he was moving something and she finally realized where the noise had come from. A stack of books had fallen over. She watched, and scanned the room, noting there were piles of books and notes everywhere. It was a study. 

Not about to waste the opportunity, Vaelyn noted the boastingly tall tapestries that hung beside the windows.  They were gargantuan things, massive enough she felt they could each hide a small army of men. 

Thankfully she didn't need to hide a whole army, just herself, and she amplified her silencing magics and slipped into the room. The stone walls inside were just as craggy as without, and she moved quick, like a spider, moving from window to the tapestry and made quick work to climb beneath where it hung. It thankfully had a convenient amount of space away from the wall that she needednt press in too close as she climbed, and she began to make her descent.

It took a few moments of concentration-- primarily because Valen wanted to be sure that all of the books were returned to their proper locations-- but with a little patience and effort, Valen had cleaned up the mess of books near the entrance to the solar, and thus prevented a terrible calamity that the world would know only as 'the Duke getting an earful from his own staff'. It was somewhat embarrassing to think about-- the idea that he so feared the wrath of the attendants, but equally humbling when he reminded himself that much as they had a job, he, too had an obligation to present himself as best he could.

Satisfied with his work, he turned to walk back toward the desk at which he'd been studying-- only to notice something... odd. The room was a bit... louder, wasn't it? Noise that wasn't present before was suddenly quite present. Could it be...? Valen's eyes slowly shifted upward, until they found the cause of the disturbance, and with a look of surprise, he noted-- "Ah! The window. That certainly wasn't ajar before, was it?" Yes, he was fairly sure he would've noticed that the source of light he'd been using was agape. How odd... and there was a shadow on the window just moments prior, wasn't there? It was almost as if...

"...The birds must be nesting near the roof's edges again. Oh, dear... I'll have to remind Lawrence to have the gardeners look into that." He muttered aloud, his conclusion quite sound in his mind. Nothing else made sense, after all. Lawrence, one of the older attendants of the castle, knew who to call in order to handle such things as bird nests. Valen had always been warned to stay away from birds-- Not that he needed to be told, as the idea of being pecked or scratched didn't exactly appeal greatly to him.

Before long, he returned to his desk, seated at the table, none the wiser of the true danger lurking within the solar. His attention was instead focused on the draft for the upcoming events-- which he'd taken quill to ink, and begun to write out some adjustments for. "This year's Hunt should probably take place closer toward the boarder of Orchy and Castavar... There haven't been nearly as many sightings of Fell beasts to the East, and given the state of Vythe... Hm."

Silent as a cat, Vaelyn made her way down the stone wall, landing lightly upon the floor and grateful for it. She was strong enough for a woman of her size, but the climbing had all been brutal. So she took this moment to catch her breath, muscles burning.

Being able to snuff out sound was useful.. but it worked both ways and Vaelyn needed to hear what was going on, so once her breath was caught she stilled herself and dropped her magics and listened. 

Was he talking about birds? She frowned and peered up towards the open window. Damn.. she forgot that part. Thankfully it seemed the man made his own deductions. 

But then he seemed to return to his work. She shifted uncomfortably.  Standing still was sometimes more painful than impossible climbs and she felt herself growing more anxious as each moment passed.

And then she stiffened..

Wait.. was the man.. talking to himself? 

"It would also be nice if they passed through the villas to the north on their way to the Hunting Grounds... I'm sure the people would enjoy that."

Valen went on, vocalizing his thoughts bit by bit before writing them out on a separate scroll. He seemed completely absorbed in his task; As if it were the most important thing in the world. To Valen, it more or less was. The one thing he tended to do to some level of satisfaction, according to his father, was please people. The citizens of Ardal rallied behind him not for his strength, nor his wisdom, but because his father had asked them to. Because he stood for the purest ideals and wishes of the people, and selflessly sought to restore great status to the Ardal dukedom. At least, that was what his father had said.

Putting down his quill for a moment, Valen sighed. "...Surely the duchy would've been better off in father's hands..." He muttered, seemingly becoming lost in thought. Valen couldn't help but feel the inferiority he held to his father-- a war veteran who'd served Ardal's frontline many a year, and held the respect of the people. A man like that would never need to hide away-- or be hidden away-- in a study, just to ensure he didn't accidentally say the wrong thing to the wrong noble, or find himself cornered and captured, or worse. He envied the man's ability to inspire confidence in others at the most outlandish or implausible of ideas... such as Valen succeeding the throne.

No, no, he couldn't keep worrying about things like this. Running a hand through his long golden locks, Valen pushed the negativity out of his mind once more, like a guest escorted out of a private room, and focused on his writing for a bit longer. He spent nearly an hour's time tossing ideas back and... well, back, using the silence as a soundboard-- the precise number of participants for the Autumn Cider Tasting event, coordination for All Soul's Night with the neighboring duchies, even the expected trade influences from Serendipity, to the south. It was all very, very boring-- but Valen was absolutely dedicated to trying to make the most of at least this duty.

Before long, he needed another break-- and so, he slowly stood from his chair, and began to stretch-- not too hard, as he didn't want to pull a muscle, but deeply enough to relieve the tension in his body from sitting. He closed his eyes and did a few calming breathing exercises-- something the Council had taught him in recent months to help him prepare before public speaking. It did wonders in that regard, but it did also just feel nice to quiet his mind and heart.

For all of their planning, scheming and preparations... was this all her spying would result in? A man muttering over future duchy events? And not even that interesting of one's. 

Vaelyn tried her best to be patient, but she couldn't help but feel clostrophobic in a way, remaining pressed behind the tapestry, ears straining and body tense I'm case she had to spring into action. But the springs remained unsprung, and she felt herself grow more antsy with each passing second. 

Almost an hour had pass and the young woman felt about ready to scream. She supposed She could, and cloud it with her powers. But her magics weren't limitless and even a bored Vaelyn knew it was a waste.

And her eyes began to wonder around the room, seeking anything of interest as she scanned the book shelves nearby. She wasn't sure they were of any help, not unless there were important documents within.  That much she doubted. She supposed She would just have to wait for the Duke to leave and she could scavenge his notes and things.. assuming he left them behind.

Frowning, she chanced a peek from behind the tapestry, noting the Duke thankfully had his back to her and was still prattling on about events.

She hoped he'd leave soon or do something of interest. She wasn't sure she wanted to wait another hour or so behind the tapestry....

And then it happened, something sudden that she couldn't prepare for. A sneeze. And she tensed, hoping she had kept her magics on as her heart hammered wildly inside of her head. 
The sneeze was brought on by the unfortunate and sudden Awakening of sunrays reaching even behind the tapestry where she hid...
And her eyes looked towards the shadows, of which her form melted into as she pressed more closely to the tapestry before her.

Suddenly, Valen looked up. His eyes widened just slightly-- as if he were jolted from a deep trance, and returned to the waking world. He dropped his quill; The ink gently blotting the paper he'd been scrolling upon. For a moment, he was quiet... but only for a moment, as he soon after pushed himself up from his chair, and stepped away from the table; The sway of his clothes as he did so a subtle notion of how abruptly he'd begun moving.

His eyes, typically docile and doe-like, were suddenly sharpened-- as if all of his mind and body had focused on a singular task. As he turned towards the tapestries which hung neatly from the ceiling, he paused for a moment, before cautiously calling out. "...I know you're there. Please come out." His voice wasn't the most confident, nor the most aggressive-- but he sounded quite certain of himself as he stood his ground, his right hand reaching slightly behind him to use the table as a steadfast support, expecting the worst with any moment.

For a moment, there was silence... and then, at long last, movement. From behind the tapestry... Valen's eyes widened as he at last was able lay eyes upon his now-approaching intruder. "I knew it...!" He tensed, eyes widening as he prepared himself for the oncoming rush... of a large, fluffy, brown-furred cat, which had apparently been sleeping blissfully up until a few moments ago, and spotting it's favorite toy, sought to pounce upon it. Or rather, him.

"O-okay! Okay!" What an embarrassing sight he must've been; Tackled to the floor by a larger-than-average cat that was, if his mother was correct, still growing. Valen stumbled onto the floor, his lordly robes getting slightly dissheveled as the cat, proud of it's hunt, leapt off of the young man, leaving him to collect himself again. Defeated by a feline... And yet, Valen couldn't raise his voice or discipline the cat. He didn't have the heart to. He'd been warned by the caretakers of the duchy that the cat tended to show aggression toward those that warmed up to it, but even now as Valen watched his adopted emerald-eyed pet watch him in turn, he couldn't help but forgive it's nature and dole out some pets and scritches as it seemingly demanded. "You are quite the needy one... but that's okay, I suppose. You end up having to put up with someone as little as me." He 'joked' with the cat, picking it up into his arms-- with a little difficulty.

Valeyn could have had a heart attack.  She almost thought the Duke had spotted her. When it all began to sink in that it was a cat that the Duke discovered, she could have laughed. Instead, she thanked her lucky stars her position wasn't compromised. 

However.. that took her back to the sneeze...
Was the cat... she hadn't considered the cat as the culprit to her sneeze, and frowned as she listened to their interactions. 

She hadn't even noticed the cat when she scouted the room. That wasn't a good sign, not on her part. How had she missed that detail? She heard about cats moving like ghosts, silent without needing magics but...

Had she really not detected the creature at all? She held her breath, contemplating taking a peek and decided to risk it, just a quick glance from the further side of the tapestry.  Luckily the Duke was distracted so she could study him and the cat and was shocked just how large the animal was! How had she not seen it? And would the animal sense her presence?

She cursed in her silenced state. What ought she to do now? And as if on cue.. she heard the beast leap down from the table where it fussed with the Duke and even though it wasn't very loud..
She could feel it was walking straight towards her.

'Kelly' was a long-time resident of the Duke's manor; She'd thus far outlasted the previous Duke's reign, and Valen was certain that she would likely outlast him-- even if that was just because she had a penchant for scaring the poor young man. The Connlaothian longhair cat typically had free reign of the estate, but was kept on the upper levels during the hearing hours; It grew frustrated of being restricted quite easily, Valen had learned, but it was necessary in order to prevent the cat from unexpectedly interrupting a preceding, or hearing. An embarrassing prospect to be sure...

But Kelly wasn't always a pain. Often times by following her about, Valen found little hidden passageways and nooks around the estate that he wouldn't have known of otherwise. It seemed Ardal's Demesne was filled with such hidden passages and secrets-- passages and secrets that Kelly tended to use to get around the estate without alerting anyone. He was fairly sure he'd been in the room alone when he'd entered; It was natural, then, to assume that there was another such passage somewhere along the north-facing wall, or under the floor, that lead into the Solar from elsewhere. He couldn't help but wonder if Ardal Rhond himself had requested it be designed that way intentionally-- explorer extraordinaire that the history books painted him to be.

As such, when Kelly suddenly lifted her head and leapt away from the Duke without warning, Valen couldn't help but wonder if she intended to lead him to said passage. It seemed like a fun diversion-- He was making decent headway on the engagement proposals, so a break couldn't hurt. Yet as he moved away from the table and toward the north-facing wall, Valen's typically doe-like eyes suddenly began to widen with concern as Kelly, seemingly, had not gone to seek a passage at all; Instead, she strolled over toward one of the hanging tapestries, and without much visible reasoning, let out a meow that would've been adorable at any other point-- but only worried Valen further in this moment. She was looking at something behind the tapestry... And Kelly typically only 'meow'ed at people.

Valen's heart sank in his chest as he froze on the spot, not daring to take another step. There was still a decent 4 or 5 meters between himself and the tapestry; If... if someone was there... Had they been there all this time? And if they were hiding... "...I-is... Is someone th-there...?" His voice came out in shudders as a number of alarms sounded in his mind to run. His father, Evan, had practically instilled the stories of the assassination of nobility into him in the past years-- his constant warnings a means of 'preparing Valen for the worst case', and hoping he'd grow stronger for it-- yet all it did now, in this moment where his mental traumas began to manifest before him, was paralyze him in place.

Was... was he about to die?

Vaelyn's heart was thumping clean inside her ears and when the cat opened its mouth.. she wasn't close enough to smother his sounds out with her magic.. she knew she would be found out. She tensed, teeth bared as she waited for it- some kind of reprimand.

When the words finally came she was surprised at how unassertive they were, fearful almost. Shouldn't Duke's be more.. commanding?
Then she considered how he spoke to himself and frowned. He must think whoever is behind the curtain is here to hurt him.

She cursed into her silence and fought through her thoughts on how she ought to react.  She was found out, that much was certain.  She ought to reveal herself.. or try to run. Fleeing didn't seem to be a viable option, considering her only option was to make  a run for it through the castle.

But then an idea struck her. She could pretend to be a staff, a maid who was carelessly taking up her break time in this study. Only problem was.. how long had the Duke been in the room and would he believe her?

She grit her teeth at the cat, who meowed again.

She really should have used her magics.

Magics.. right.  She let her's drop for the moment, mind still spinning over the idea of what to do when suddenly the door to the solar was thrown open and a man pushed himself in on a wheeled chair.

"Are you done in here yet, boy?" The old man snapped, his face wrinkled irritably when he noted the cat who, with a tapping of his cane; was shooed out by the lamed man."Damn cat ought to be shot at the musket range. Not even a decent mouser ." He then returned his attentions back to Valen.

"Well you ready for your meeting with the council or steal you going to use the same old excuse.  " The man gave him a firm look. "And don't try to lie to your uncle, now.  I know your constitution ain't bad enough to sit out of every meeting. Besides; you're the fucking Duke child, start acting like it! And what is it you're gawking at over in the corner," the man went on, moving surprisingly fast. "Don't tell me we got more cats in here cause I swear if I-" he was already at the tapestry and flung it open, eyes wide to catch the waif of a girl cowering in the shadows behind it .

"Well now... this explains a lot why you're so persistent in shirking your duties." The old man laughed like a crow. "I know I ought to be mad, but atleast you're not gay. Now girl, get out of the corner. You're embarrassing only yourself. "

Stunned, Vaelyn wasn't sure how to react, completely frozen not only by her blatant discovery and this chair bond man's commanding tone .. but by the implications shr found herself now being accused of.

An unpleasant rush of emotions washed over Valen as a voice from beyond the solar called out to him, shocking him out of his fearful stupor. He'd all but forgotten his place-- not only that he was in his study, but also that he'd been in there for quite some time. Fear had a way of re-prioritizing what mattered at any given moment... trembling now with fear, Valen weighed the risks of not showing proper respect with turning his back on a potential assassin... before lowering his head, clenching his fists and silently praying that his life be spared.

"I-I--" He began to speak, before being immediately cut off by the man who'd come sauntering in, far more vigor in the lame man's talk alone than Valen had in his entire being. He was afraid to even meet the gaze of the man; Lectured as he was in this moment, he could only nod in understanding and acceptance of his words, regardless of how harsh they came off. "...Yes, sir." He responded properly to the man's complaints. They were valid, to some degree. Valen participated in the hearings that he was allowed to, but those were few and far between; Primarily limited to matters of state, such as the festivals. It was probably either too embarrassing or too much of a risk to have someone his age, and with his... lack of 'prestige', do anymore than that.

As the man rolled past him, however, and moved closer toward the tapestry, Valen froze in fear once more. This time, he was only partly concerned for himself-- instead, he was moreso concerned for his uncle, who seemed woefully unaware of the danger in their midsts. "P-please wait--!!" He tried to speak up, an attempt at warning him of what might lie just beyond that tapestry, but it was to no avail; Valen clenched his eyes shut and braced himself for a possible attack, nailed to the spot he stood in...

...But no attack came. Instead, a rather crude remark from his uncle cut him in it's stead, causing his eyes to fling open in confusion. The man had gone ahead and flipped back the tapestry that Kelly'd been hinting at earlier, revealing... a woman? Valen had never seen her before. She was certainly no maid-- at least, not one that had previously been assigned to him. He was no less concerned for his uncle's life than he was previously, however, despite the lady's seeming shock at being discovered. "P-pray, be careful, sir! I've never seen this lady before-- She could be an a-assassin!" His words were shaky-- his heart a mess of conflicting feelings as he warned his uncle. Nothing else made sense to Valen-- she had to have been there to take his life, as his father had warned him many a time prior. Assailants came in many shapes and sizes, he'd always said-- and trusting anyone at their word, for any reason, could've lead to his death.

His uncle rolled his eyes. 
"Oh for the Grand Duke's sake boy! Man up when you've got a woman. There ain't no sin in indulging in between the legs of a woman."

He  shook his head. Assassin indeed. The girl looked like a trapped church mouse.

The man glared at Valen, eyes hardening.

"Judging by your states of dress, i.. inconvenienced you, my duke?" He went on, after clearing his throat and giving Valen a look. 
"Don't patronize me with excuses she's an assassin boy, your uncle Rodham wasn't born yesterday."

He then moved with much more agility than a lamed up old man ought to as he pointed his cane at the girl and pressed it into her gut.

"And you, girl... if you were trying to pretend to be an assassin you're doing a terrible job." He shook his head then gave Valen a stern look.

"I suppose you're done with her? Shall I fetch the guards and have her locked away, hrm?"

Valen's face could not have turned a further shade of red at his uncle's words if it had been painted such. Why would he say such things, even in the presence of strangers!? Starkly lost at a crossroads between fear, mortification, indignation and self-deprecation, the young man could do little more than cover his face with a single hand, turning away. "N-No, I— I wouldn't—!" Whether he did it to get under the boy's skin or because he genuinely believed him capable of... 'that', didn't matter; Valen was at a loss for words all the same.

He didn't know much about assassins, in practicality. All that he had read on the subject implied that even the most innocuous-looking person could be trained to look as such if it allowed them to get closer to their target— and that they were often treated as expendable... willing to die if it meant completing their tasks. Such a lifestyle scared Valen, and gave him pause toward potentially believing this woman really was just... well, innocent.

Rodham's jests and provocations only added further doubt to his mind, causing him to shrink further into himself. "I..." He began, lowering his head in uncertainty. The woman... looked scared. Under any normal circumstance, he couldn't possibly muster the conscience to have her locked away. But... he had been here for some time. He had no idea how long she'd been lying in wait, nor what would've happened if Rodham hadn't come. The thought of wronging someone who had done no wrong hung heavily over his head... yet his father's warnings echoed in his mind, robbing him of the ability to think for himself in this situation. "...Yes... we should have her locked away, for now... Until we can determine her motives... I think." He finally said, fear winning out in his heart at long last.

Rodham eyed his nephew before shaking his head. 
"Your father's an idiot for consenting the throne to you." The words were a slap to his face as ever they could be. Then again, Rodham always spoke his mind. If anything he was atleast a more honest man among those of the court who always played games with their words. Of course, he was also the most curt and brash, even before he had lamed his legs.

He moved his wheeled chair back. 
"I'll go fetch the guards, your majesty. "

And he began to wheel out of the room, pausing to eye his nephew.
"Well? Ain't you gonna keep her stayed under your blade?"

He shook his head. 

'Assassins." He muttered "who'd waste the time on you?"

Valen winced, but had no response to his uncle's sharp words and harsh gaze. He had too much respect for his elders to so much as contest his insult... but he also knew, deep down, that he was right. It hurt to hear aloud, but Valen knew he was a poor choice for the throne. He imagined Ardal Rhond himself rolling in his grave at the thought of someone so weak-willed succeeding him.

"...Yes sir." He eventually replied, stepping backwards to his table for a moment, where sat a fine, iron sword, nestled in a blue sheathe. His father, as well as the council, had often instructed him to keep a blade on his person at all times... but Valen lacked their considerable stamina, or skill, and as such, he rarely practiced with it. Just pulling the sword free from its sheathe felt both foreign and draining to him as things were.

He turned back onto the woman, trying desperately to push his uncle's words down into the depths of his mind for the time being as he did as instructed— the blade pointed at her with a very weak stance, a mixture of wariness and sadness in his silvery-gray eyes. "Please remain still... the guards will arrive shortly."

If she was going to make a run for it, the sword only added to her plight. Although his nerves weren't lost to her, the fact she was inside an armed stone castle only supported his side over her own. Inwardly she swore as she glared at the Duke.

He couldn't have been much older than she. A child really to all the other rulers she'd heard and seen. She didn't know why it made her more prickly towards her captive, or perhaps it was the fact she had already run out of patience while listening to him ramble for the past hour over nothing of consequence. Or.. atleast nothing useful to her.

Alone with the would-be, or at least should-be "assassin", Valen felt nervous, and incredibly uncomfortable. The blade in his hand trembled every few moments— both from his innate fear of the unknown situation he found himself in as well as his body's unfamiliarity with the weapon at hand. He didn't have his father's muscles, or his battle experience; He could only do his best to hold the woman before him at sword's length for the sake of his life.

"...I'm sorry, if this is all a misunderstanding. I don't wish you any harm. Once the guards arrive, we'll be able to sort everything out." His voice wasn't particularly commanding; He sounded genuinely remorseful of the situation. He thought on what the woman could've possibly been doing in his solar, if not planning his demise— he almost wanted to ask, but he was much too afraid of the answer. Worse still, she hadn't spoken a word thus far— Which only served to unsettle the young man even further.

"But I can't conscience misdeeds against the duchy... so I have to ask that you remain still."

Vaelyn internally swore. Great, this was the last thing she needed. The plan was brilliant, it should have went off without a hitch. Yet he tried she was, ousted with a blade at her throat by the very man she was supposed to be eaves dropping on.

But then she heard a noise, from the window- her eyes widened as she realized she should have given Wrent a signal, or met him for a rendezvous. But now the jig was up, and a flash from the window caught her attention. 

Something was falling towards the young Duke. Wrent.. what was he thinking!? They weren't supposed to harm or assassinate the Duke! Only gain information. Without thinking about the consequences, she cried out and shoved the Duke Bodily away from where the large brick was falling, crashing into him, and somehow in the madness, cutting herself on the blade as the pair clattered to the ground- she a top while a brick smashed near inches from the Duke's head. Or rather, their collective heads based on their current unfortunate position. 

Valen grew more tired, and equally more weary, with every passing second. The rolling wheels of Rodham's chair, and even the occasional passing set of feet outside the solar had all but disappeared, leaving him with an uncomfortable silence, and a threat to his life. In truth, unsteady as the weapon in his hand suggested, he didn't want to hurt the woman before him; Assassin or not, he never wished ill on anyone. If the two of them could avoid this day without injury, that would be ideal. He secretly hoped that it wouldn't be much longer before the guards arrived...

Yet his hopes were replaced with fear when, without warning, the assailant before him leapt into action— knocking him to the floor with such a sudden force that Valen, weak-willed as things were, was unprepared entirely— he couldn't react fast enough with the sword to defend himself, and in the tackle, he lost the weapon entirely. With a thud, he landed on the ground, eyes clenched shut. "P-Please, don't!" He cried out, held down by a force he didn't have the courage to open his eyes and see. Which was a shame, really; if only he had, to see the brick so close to hitting him.

Vaelyn hissed in pain, peering down at the blood pouring down her arm, staining both her clothing and his. She hadn't realized she reflexively snuffed out noise as they fell and the brick smashed- so likely the dazed Duke hadn't heard it. But a stunned moment later, she released the spell and sound returned again.

And she cringed as she saw the young man's face. And even more so at his words. It seemed he was the least of her worries, as she peered up towards the shadowy figure in the window and noticed, almost too late- that another brick was falling their way.

Despite being smaller than he, she threw her body more broadly across his as the brick smashed clean into her.

There was an audible 'crack' of stone, and a reverberation of force from the body above onto Valen's own as the duke's eyes fluttered open out of instinct. He was confused twofold; One because of the sound, and beyond due to the fact that he was still alive. Wouldn't an assassin have... well, assassinated him by now?

He was met with a peculiar sight; The woman from before had tackled him as he suspected, her face (inexplicably close, in hindsight) showing a wince of pain. To his side, a shattered brick of clay much too close to his head for comfort which caused him to go rather pale in the face. When did that get there— and why didn't he hear it? Did... did the woman before him just protect him from that?

"A-are you okay!?" Valen asked, a foolish question given the look on her face. Of course she wasn't okay... He attempted to lift himself, and her along with him, cursing his weak body as the act caused more exertion than he anticipated. Getting a better vantage of the situation, Valen's eyes went not immediately for the window, but to the injury the 'assailant' he'd been with had gained, and the shattered clay on her back. That explained the thump he felt moments ago— someone or something had definitely just attacked them.

Vaelyn had no idea how she was still conscious. But for a moment, she lay there in shock. Then the pain came and her eyes watered as she grimaced. When the man moved it almost felt like the pain grew worse as she cried out. But before she could make sense of anything, her survival instincts kicked in and all she could manage to sputter was ,"M..move! Away.. from the window.." she didn't have the strength or mind set to glance up, weak enough from the words before forcing a shout, "Now!"

Oh, if only he could. Valen could sense the danger in the air, a tension quite unlike the stalemate he'd faced moments earlier. The blood that stained the ground and the racing of his own heart from instinct alone all but assured him that he was in genuine trouble. That was ignoring the demands of the woman above him...

Unfortunately, Valen couldn't move. The fear for his life that he felt and the sudden aggressive, yet imploring demand from the injured assailant had all but rooted him to the spot, his legs having lost all strength. "I-I—" He began, before his eyes unconsciously moved to the ceiling, and the north-facing window in kind. There they froze, as did Valen, as his eyes were just barely able to make out the source of his fear— the figure of a man, likely the source of the attack.

What was wrong with him?! If Vaelyn could scream, she would and with all the strength she could muster, she gripped onto the shoulder part of Valen's sleeves and pulled for all she was worth, hooking one leg beneath his and using her momentum to roll the pair out from beneath the window and kept pulling them into a tumble until they crashed into the side of Valen's desk, where the pair stopped their rolling- Valen ontop.

Valen's senses were frayed— his crippling fear of the situation he'd found himself in and the shock of the woman above him's actions pooling and mixing to to brew quite the paralyzing venom that had locked him in place. It was good for him, then, that she'd found the strength to pull him out of harm's way, no matter how rough that pull was. And goodness, was it rough.

Valen winced in pain as he slammed agains the leg of the table he'd been writing at, mentally disoriented by the rolling. It was only when he recovered his bearings that he truly realized where he was, what had happened— and what predicament he was in, as well as where his hands had landed for stability's sake.

Oh. Oh no! "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Like a cat doused with cold water, Valen jolted away from the woman, withdrawing his hands from her personal space, and attempting to crawl away— yet she still had a strong hook on his leg, which only caused him to awkwardly fall backward, hurting himself in the process. Gods— if she didn't already want to kill him, she no doubt would now... why was this happening to him? He felt tears slowly forming in his eyes— overwhelmed by the emotions— guilt, fear, confusion, pain— all raging within his chest. What a truly pathetic Duke he felt like, in this moment... sprawled on the ground, on the verge of tears, flinching and fleeing from every little threat. His uncle was truly right about him... He could scarce protect himself, let alone this duchy.

Disoriented , although only momentarily , Vaelyn rolled onto the balls of her feet. Sharp eyes darted around the place, before she decided she only had one good option.

So she grabbed Vaelyn by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him closer.

"Where's the servants passage way?" She demanded. She had to get out of here .. and fast. The servants way seemed the safest bet. After all, the uncle- though lamed as he was, was bringing back guards to lock her away. And if she went back the way she came...

No..
 Wrent had made a bad choice. She couldn't go back to him. This wasn't apart of the plan. If the others new about this...

Well, she'd worry about that later. For now she had to survive this awful ordeal first. 

Pulled from his woeful thoughts by force was Valen, who found himself both shocked and speechless as the woman before him took him by the cloth of his sternum. His eyes, welled with tears, winced as she demanded of him— and Valen, unable to gather strength in his arms due to the flush of adrenaline in his veins having finally left his body, leaving him weak— well, weaker— and vulnerable again.

He dared not upset someone who'd now flung him about two times in a row, and was still ready for more.

"T-the— the east wall, near the bookshelves..." Surprising how quickly he managed to get his wits about him in the concentrated face of danger, even if it was only to show subservience. In the back of Valen's mind, he debated the wisdom of telling the woman where the passage door was located; the risk of her harming someone other than him being a non-zero possibility. And yet, his heart rate argued that at the very least, telling her that would save him further assault— and she would perhaps take her leave of him, and flee on her own. What other choice did he really have...?

Judging by how afraid he looked, she assumed he told the truth.

"Well, come on then," she snarled, roughly pulling him along. Couldn't leave the fool to this fate. Wrent could easily murder him.

She continued to pull on the Duke, towards the book shelves as she continued barking demands.

"Where?" She asked, beginning to group the rough stone wall. "Wheres the entry point?"

Shivers ran down Valen's spine as his assumptions were immediately proven incorrect; rather than being satisfied with the information and leaving him be, it now seemed the woman's goal involved him further still. He paled at the thought that whatever else she had planned would require him— dragged along helplessly as she moved toward the wall, until he realized that she simply required further assistance... which put his heart at slight ease. Slight.

"I-it's the second cobblestone brick, from the floor. You have to press it..." He attempted to explain in a bit of a rush, not wanting to test the limits of the woman's patience. Rather, he summoned what little courage he had and stepped forward to the wall, pressing his hand to the aforementioned brick which had been laid. A slight bit of effort, and the brick seemingly gave way, before an audible click in the wall echoed out, and a pattern of bricks, similar to a tall door in size and shape, snapped free of their rigid place. With a bit more effort, that pattern of bricks shifted, and slowly swung open, revealing a rather dark, dimly-lit passageway that led out of the solar. Not exactly a marvel of technology... but Valen had always admired the ingenuity of the demesne, though this didn't exactly feel like a great time to wax poetic, even mentally.

With the way open and woman free to escape as she wished, Valen hesitated to follow— even at the expense of incurring her anger. Everything had happened so suddenly that he didn't have time enough to think rationally— or at least, think like a man in his station should. There was an assailant on the rooftops; The guards— even his uncle— could not be allowed to walk into the solar unawares of the dangers. It was his role as the duke to protect his people... regardless of how they felt about him, and how he felt about himself. He... could not leave. Even if it meant his life."...It should lead to the kitchen, and further still to the estate commons. I... I will stand guard against the assailant in the window, and await the guards. Please, make your way to safety." He bravely spoke, turning back toward the window, though his voice (and knees) shook with every word.

Oh thank God the Duke was being useful, that was... until he wasn't.  She stared at him and his shakey attempt to be brave before grabbing roughly onto his arm and yanking him along with her.

"That man up there could snap you in half. Your safer to run away with me."

Once she had managed to yank the young man along with her into the barely lit hidden path, she the quickly demanded, "The door..  how can we close this door behind us?"

Further still was Valen dragged, even against his resolve now. A bead of exasperated sweat ran down the side of his face as he was pulled into the passage by the woman. Was this not what he was meant to do as duke? "I-I—" He tried to protest, but could very keenly tell that she was having very little of his rebuttals. She wasn't taking his sacrifice for an answer.

There were maids of the duchy that were much like that— unpredictably forward and direct in their interactions with him, perhaps due to seeing him for the pushover he was, more so than the duke he was claimed to be. Maybe that was why it almost felt normal to him to be practically manhandled like this...

"The... it should just..." He stumbled on an explanation, before once more just deciding it made more sense to do it himself; Stepping toward the shifted door-like brick pattern, he took the dislodged brick in hand and put a little effort into swinging the passage door back closed with his body weight, before pressing the brick inward again. With a 'click', it locked back into place, along with the rest of the bricks, leaving no gaps through which light could pass from without. Thankfully, the passage itself had light enough to find one's way— though Valen already missed the sun.

Vaelyn sighed with subtle relief once the door was closed. At least this meant the Duke was taken away, atleast temporarily, from the danger. She still couldn't believe Wrent would do it. He was a simple man. She had trusted him, more so, than many of the other on the team. But here it was, the inevitablity of someone betraying her.

She turned towards the Duke, seeing the fear upon him and frowning.

"Are you really the Duke?" She found herself asking, without much thought to its effects.

The woman's question cut deep— deeper than it likely was meant to, given her rather critical gaze upon him. And yet, as Valen felt what little pride he had deflate under the pressure of the question, he didn't blame her for it. Couldn't, rather. He'd heard the prior duke was a much more imposing man than he— Far more decisive, and could handle himself in combat. Compared to him...

"...I am, yes. Though I understand that may be hard to believe... seeing me in person."

He didn't know how else to describe it— the way others looked down upon him was quite warranted, in a sense. Unlike others, he hadn't truly "earned" his seat. Not yet, at least. He could hope that he would, one day... but for certain, he was unworthy of the title as things were. And yet, Ardal needed a leader...

Her eyes hardened at his response, anger growing.
"If you're the duke," she snapped. "Start acting like it! You shouldn't be so.. so.." what was even the word foe it. And she paused to realize.. why should she care? She was being paid to spy on this man, get information to sell. It wasn't like he...

She shook the thoughts off and pointed sharply down the hall.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is we don't die." She pointed again. "Where does this lead if we go left?"

Someone had to make decisions and it seemed the Duke was oblivious. 

Valen lowered his head further, as he was admonished by the woman before him. She might not have been able to find the right words, but he could— likely because he'd heard them time and time again. He shouldn't be so feeble. So meek. So pathetic. "...L-left... um... ah, right. Left leads to a small room within the estate commons... I think." He stumbled with his words, his lack of confidence getting the better of him.

Yes, he'd heard all this and more, and couldn't argue the thought— but also couldn't help it. He... really didn't know how to be a better duke. The council didn't seem to mind that he was so impotent— if anything, they seemed to relish in taking responsibilities away from him, and leaving him with the bare minimums of work. He spent more time locked away in that solar than most people spent time in the main building at all. 'For your safety', they always said. It was like living at home with his mother all over again...

Ansgar's name, what had she gotten herself into? She was used to working in the shadows, pick pocketing.. but this?

How had she gone from spy work to rescuing the damn Duke?

As he sputtered she grabbed his wrist and yanked him right.
They didn't have time to hesitate! Wrent could easily punch through the wall of he wanted to, and if he'd suddenly changed plans or... she cringed at rhe idea... that this.. this had been the plan all along... well...

She'd have to worry about that later.  Not dieing seemed like a good first plan. Bonus if she didn't somehow get caught amongst all of this.

"Come on! The man.. the one on the roof.. he's dangerous. We got to keep moving."

In all of his confusion, as Valen continued to be pulled about by the mysterious woman, one thing continued to bother him— more so than being looked down upon for the umpteenth time that day.

That being... who were these people?

The woman had been a stoic wall in the room above— not speaking so much as a word in spite of everything, yet now risked her life to save him. Herself as well, admittedly, but why drag him along? And stranger still, she seemed fairly familiar with the man who'd attempted to attack him proper earlier...

"...Are you acquainted with him?" He found himself asking, still struggling to keep apace with her.

Vaelyn chewed on her curse, not sure she wanted to answer him. So she ignored it, asking roughly, "Which way?" They had come up to a small door but the path also split, stairs and a way forward that followed along the wall.

Feeling somewhat dejected from his question— or perhaps concern— being flatly ignored Valen frowned but refrained from repeating himself. Whatever the circumstances were, the fact remained that she was escorting him away from this dangerous man... for whatever reason. Had they been truly in collusion and on the same page, she'd have left him to his fate— or killed him herself.

"Th-the doorway should lead to the second floor commons... and... I think the stairs down lead to the first floor commons. I... I've never taken the other path before..." He muttered, still unsure of his place in all of this— as well as that of his 'benefactor'.

Vaelyn paused to consider their options before turning to ask," The first floor commons.. where do they lead out to?" The first floor seemed as good as any other. But did the Duke really not know all of the areas of his keep? She frowned at this, and tucked away that intel for later.

Furrowing his brow, Valen thought on the question for a moment as he looked over the stairway. In truth, though he has always desired little more than to explore the many paths and passages of the estate, the council had all but locked him away in the solar for the majority of his stay. Supposedly it was all for his 'safety'... though he suspected that in truth, it was easier for the council to control his image with him out of site.

"I think they lead to a storage room that's attached to the reception hall... I think. I...I've never actually gone that way, in truth." He eventually responded in a somewhat dejected tone, as if aware of how disappointing his answer was.

Vaelyn swore through her teeth.
She guessed that's where they were taking their chances.

"Come on." She urged, swiftly moving through the hidden halls.  They had to get as much distance as possible between themselves and Wrent...

Wrent... what was wrong with him? Or... was this the plan all along? Had she been duped this whole time? The very idea made her feel sick...
So to distract herself she asked ,"is there an exit from the reception hall?"

"I... y-yes."

Dread began to fall upon Valen's shoulders. He still wasn't sure of what to make of any of this-- Escaping from an unknown assassin, held close by an unknown ally... or presumed ally. This was all far more excitement than he'd ever seen in his life, and he was far too much lost in his internal sea of doubts to think any of it through with a clear head. He still didn't know who this woman was; still didn't know just where she was taking him, or attempting to take him. And all the while, she seemed intent on not revealing more information than she felt she needed to... while put the young duke's mind into needless duress.

Yes, she was... seemingly... saving him from the attacker. But what were her plans for him beyond that? What if all of this was just a clever ruse to accost him in a less visible location? He could not set these doubts aside, even as they continued to move about. "...Th-the guard... the council, sh-should be attending to matters on the first floor-- we-- we only need ensure they're aware of the assailant, that they might set themselves to securing the estate, and searching for the man. There's-- s-surely there's no need to exit the estate... yes...?" He asked nervously, the combination of his fearful racing heart and the pace they'd been moving at tiring his weakened body and bringing him to a light pant.

Vaelyn hesitated.  The Duke was right. Besides, only she needed to get out of here unseen. The Duke had his own men to protect him.

"Then we can part ways there," came her blunt reply. "Your guards will protect you and you should be far enough away from the danger. "

It still bothered her, however.  This wasn't part of the plan. Were any of the others apart of this scheme? She had not signed up for an assassination , even how much she despised nobility...

They were still people, just born under much better circumstances than she.

"I need to leave."

The escape.  She wasn't about to let herself become caught by either side in this matter.  But she had to figure out Wrent's game on this and to see if he worked alone or.. if the group had intentionally left her out of these plans.

She was newer to their group but believed she had fit in well, if not atleast she was an asset and was never in their way. They were thieves. When had all of this turned to murder?

Wrent... she felt betrayed. She had trusted him with her life and now..? Now she had almost been killed along with the Duke! Had she not been paying so close attention to her surroundings either her or the Duke could have gotten hurt.. or worse.

Valen felt a grave chill run down his spine as she spoke up, a sudden realization of his situation— and to some extent, hers— clicking into place in his mind. Leave? She almost seemed as sparring with her words and their meaning as she was direct with them, which caused the young duke to question everything he had thus far accepted as logical.

Think, Valen. It made no sense for her to escape the estate, knowing that the guard would seek out the villain who'd attempted to hurt him— the both of them, seemingly... unless she, too, was worried about being sought out by the guard. To some extent, he could understand— she was, without question, no maidservant or attendant of the building, and while Valen was not the most inquisitive or observant of minds, thinking back on their initial encounter, she was no less scared of his acknowledgment of her presence than he was of hers... as his uncle graciously pointed out.

He lowered his head in thought as they came about the exit to the storage room. What should he do? Whatever her purpose in the building was, she was without question an intruder in the estate. And her seeming knowledge of the man who'd attacked them was quite damning in and of itself. Yet in spite of this... she did save him. He eventually sighed, and stepped forward to press against a subtle, yet uniquely distinct formation of bricks at the end of their walkway.

"...Very well. I will exit first. If there are attendants in the reception hall, it will be easier for me to hold their attention while you make good your escape." He explained, seemingly disappointed in himself— or at least, more so than usual. He had accepted that she would not be reasoned with— not in this matter. He would certainly 'hold their attention' by being scolded for being out of the solar at such an odd time, without being called for by the council or his father. And... yes, his father. How disappointed in him he would be now, allowing a potential thief, or spy, or aught else to escape under his nose... and yet, Valen was becoming so used to being a disappointment that he likened it to another burden to carry, like all the other downcast gazes or sneers he received across the duchy from behind his back.

As the brick passageway gave in to a stern push by Valen, the young man looked out into the storage room to find that it was empty— unsurprising, given the location and time of day. He exited, looking back to the woman who had saved him, and solemnly nodded to her. "Be safe. I know not what manner of trouble lead you— or either of us— to this moment, but I pray you find yourself free of it soon enough." He mumbled, unsure if such words even held any meaning to someone he'd only just met, before making for for the exit of the room, into the reception hall.

She should have scurried off.. rushed out of there the moment she had the chance. But his words...
Why did she linger?

She needed to go. This was already too risky . And she had to figure out the rest of the way on her own and without Wrent or the Duke 's assistance.

So she ran, not risking a glance back. She needed to get out.. get back and figure things out...

Only when she opened the door to slip outside, a pair of guards turned around, as startled as she. She backed away with a gasp, and it only took a moment for the guards to realize ..

"Hey.. you're not supposed to be here!"

And Vaelyn turned tail to run, rushing back towards the hidden passage. 

The armed guardsmen, in turn, were more than prepared to chase after her. Valen felt what little hopes he had of this situation being resolved without incident shatter with the sudden announcement of the guards. He didn't even turn around to attempt figuring out what had just occurred; he could tell by the direction of the commotion that the woman had not heeded his advice in the least. What should he do? If she didn't shut the passageway behind her, she would certainly be caught. She should've known how to do so from seeing him do the same, but would she?

Valen curled his soft hands into fists. He had to do something— it would be wrong of him to allow harm to come to someone who had helped him, regardless of how strange the circumstances were... or at least that was how he felt.

"Hold a moment, please."

His voice wasn't particularly commanding. It wasn't harsh, or resplendent with wrath or indignation. And yet, there was resolve there. "Let the young woman leave. She has done no wrong." He explained, to the surprise and discomfort of everyone present in the reception hall. The soldiers who'd taken off after the girl stopped in their steps, pausing and looking back at the man incredulously.

"B-but, sire—"

"It's alright. She is of no threat, and has done me a kindness. Please allow her to leave."

By the time Valen had tempered the guards, Vaelyn had disappeared, back into the maze of servant's hallways. She wasn't particularly fond of getting caught, and cursed to herself for being so stupid. How could she make such a mistake?

By now, she had woven her way back into the halls so much that she realized, with a blink then curse, she had no idea where she was. She had taken off down one of the hallways they hadn't taken to get in and she paused a moment to listen for pursuit.

"Well, now. Quite the commotion here, it would seem?"

Valen's resolve faltered. He knew that voice. From behind him came a series of footsteps, originating from further inside the castle. Heavier footsteps and gentle ones alike; a small group of individuals, it seemed. The young duke turned around to meet the 'newcomers' with a pained expression... The council had finally shown itself.

He supposed it wasn't exactly a surprise that they were here already. Given the fact that his uncle had gone searching for the guard earlier, it was no surprise that the council had been notified of potential threats as well... still, they could've shown themselves at a more opportune time, surely.

Three members of the council approached; All dressed in similar garb, a silver and blue tunic, proudly displaying the duchy's colors and their regality. Two men, one portly, the other in quite good physical shape, accompanied a older woman, with blonde hair and gray eyes. "Lady Andrea, Lord Garen, Lord Daus." Valen spoke up immediately, bowing his head in respect to the three, as they did in turn (though nowhere near as deeply) to their duke.

"We were made aware of an... unwelcome guest, your grace?" The lady spoke first, her voice somewhat shrill, yet openly inquisitive. "I sought to have the guard expunge the intruder from the building... yet I hear now that you've granted them pardon?"

"I—"

"Surely you understand, your grace," Lord Daus, the finely-built man at the side of the blonde woman, interrupted Valen, openly undermining him, "That trespassing upon the demesne is no mere trivial matter. Much less upon your grace's personal effects. The danger that allowing such persons to roam free would pose undermines your health, and the safety of the duchy's integrity." The room grew uncomfortably tense as he continued, even for the guards as Andrea motioned for them to proceed to the front doors, and shut them. "As such, I would humbly recommend the re-evaluation of your stance, your grace."

"...But, she—"

"'Saved your life?' Your grace, you must not allow such transient words and actions to sway your resolve to uphold the order of your duchy. You have entertained the trespass of a potential threat to your life, and threat to you duchy's security— Such is unbecoming of a ruler. Surely you understand this?" Andrea's words stung like heated needles, causing Valen to lower his head further in shame. She was right. "You must learn to uphold the responsibility of your role in all circumstances— not simply those which you deem 'comfortable'. Please, your grace; return to your solar. Allow the council, as your humble aides, to tend to the intruder. We shall see to it that no harm comes to the woman... without due cause."

Valen's resolve crumbled, knowing he had no room to argue. Resigned to his fate— and to the young woman's— he simply nodded quietly, before Andrea motioned for two guards to come forth. "Please see the duke safely to his chambers. The rest of you— thoroughly search the demesne, the underground and servant passageways. The intruder is to be found, and brought to the lower levels for questioning."

"As you say, milady."

With that, Andrea waved a dismissive hand, and Valen despondently left with his two guards, returning to the Solar. He could only hope that by this point, the assailant had left— else, there would be a conflict... and he desperately wanted no one to be hurt, if nothing else.

She cursed when she realized they were in pursuit. Vaelyn had a head start, but only just barely. And as she wove her way around the hallways, she knew she only had so much time until she'd be caught.

She needed a plan and fast. Escaping would be ideal but she couldn't outrun the guards in the palace forever. No.. she needed to find a place to hide and wait until dark. So she took her chances going up.

The main floors would be crawling with servants, dinner was well on its way in being prepared, that much she could smell...
So she hoped it meant the upper floors were being less attended to and.. as she made her way down the barely lit long corridors, she wasn't sure which one to chance slipping out of. She knew she'd have to be well enough away from the pursuing guards so they wouldn't simply guess where she had gone...

So when she felt like she had a safe enough distance from them she picked and door and approached. Locked. She cursed and moved onward, chewing herself out inwardly for not even thinking about damn locks!

But she pressed on , keeping ahead and..

What was that smell? She approached the nearest door. It smelled like... soaps? She tried the handle. Unlocked. And quietly as she could, she slipped inside 

She was surprised when she found herself in an all white room furnished with tall, latticed wardrobes cut in a way she could see they housed pushed towels folded within.  And the warmer, moist air answered the rest...
She was in a bathing room. 

And of course the damn room was brightly lit! She moved away from the door, not daring to waste anymore time when she suddenly heard a pair of servants approaching. 

"They bath is ready. We ought to fetch the duke."

Shit. The voices were coming her way and there was nowhere  to hide except...
She peered over her shoulder at a large tub full of water and... 

So many bubbles it just might work. Without much thinking, she drew in a breath and slipped away as quietly as she could into the bath, pressing herself desperately beneath thr bubbles and waters abd praying she didn't destroy too many cause .. well..

She would stick out like a sore thumb with dark hair and clothing in a room of all white, in a guided bath with fresh, crisp bubbles.

From beneath the water the waters she could hear the voices, feel the clicking footsteps against rhe stone floors and just as she felt as though she were about to run out of air...

She heard the woman leaving and.. waiting one more desperate moment, resurfaced with a gasp. Now she sat there, thoroughly soaked and sudsy.


Do now what? The bath wasn't an ideal hiding spot... maybe she should head back to the corridors...

But when she tried the door... it was locked. 

Shit.

A deep, exhausted sigh escaped Valen's lips.

The day had proven more than eventful— and yet he could not escape the gnawing sense of fruitlessness that it left him with, as he removed his dressings and neatly sat them aside at a dressing table. There were few things he was allowed to do alone; his studies being one of them, but though they insisted otherwise, preparing for his bath was a line that Valen indignantly drew with the servants of the demesne. He could only stand to be looked down upon so much...

He stood in the nude for a moment's time— quietly regarding the chaos that had taken hold of the demesne so suddenly as the late day's air caressed his skin. Valen was a proper 'noble'; He wore not a scratch nor scar on his body from head to toe, with well-cared-for skin and the softest of faces in spite of his thin, lightly-muscled body. Long before he took the mantle of duke, his mother doted after him like an enternally-pre-pubescent child... or a life-sized doll.

His thoughts flickered between the man who'd been perched above the solar's window, and the woman who'd protected him from him. He'd had enough time to think through the events earlier now, having been separated from the high-intensity environment it all created. As he grabbed his bathing robe, he considered the fact that there was more than likely some strong connection between the two of them— a connection that must've gone sour, given the woman's haste to separate from him. He'd created a potential scenario in his mind; one where the woman and the assailant were likely either partners or rivals, and the only reason that he yet escaped unscathed was a result of a task or mission gone wrong, perhaps... though he would never know, as the lady was likely caught and escorted away by now.

His robe secure on his body, Valen pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he headed for the bathroom door and unlocked the bolt on it. The maids had informed him earlier that the bath was ready— he didn't want to waste much of the warmth of the freshly drawn waters, or the bubbles. How he enjoyed the bubbles...

...Though as he opened the door to the bathroom, he found himself faced with more than just a refreshing bath. He froze on the spot for a moment, before regaining his wits once more and—with a tense look in his eyes and a clearly visible flush of embarrassed red on his cheeks— doing the only thing he could think to do in that moment...

...Which was shutting the door in front of him, and locking the bolt once more, leaving the mysterious woman inside alone, again.

Why was this happening to him!?

Valen wasn't the only one surprised. His light foot falls hadn't warned her of an approach, so when the door opened and a robed man- No... the young duke was now standing there, it went against all of her instincts as she simply froze.

She must've looked like a drowned rat, dark clothing and hair suctioned to her lithe body, and sudsy bubbles crowning hair, shoulders and arms.

Shit.

She went for the door, knowing the entry to the servants way was locked and...

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The damned duke locked her in!

Valen's heart was pumping something fierce. A myriad of emotions rushed through his mind— fear, frustration, and a desperate wish to be wearing a bit more from a clothes perspective. His head was spinning from the sudden rush of adrenaline; a hint of tears welling up in his eyes. Why was she there!?

"Y-you were supposed to be— The guards should've— I— Why!?" He could barely put into words how he felt at the moment, his chest tightening as he tried thinking through possible scenarios. Was she now attempting to attack him? Kidnap him? Did she simply not leave, or find the chance to? He couldn't think of many reasons for her to be in the circumstances she was in— none that weren't inherently incriminating, at least.

She was literally covered in his bubbles! What was he supposed to think?

She bared her teeth at his remarks, seething. Oh if only she could chew the words bubbling in her throat and spit them at his face. But she didn't have time to be angry with him... she didn't have time for anything.. especially after being caught!

So she swallowed her frustration and dashed towards the window, undoing the Latch and heaving those heavy windows open with purpose, the evening winds greeting and chilling her flesh as she scrambled up onto the sill tp find...

That she was still atleast two stories from the ground. 

Heart racing from the residual effects of the initial shock, Valen slumped to the floor, his back pressed against the door to the bathing room. He looked disgruntled— and honestly, he was starting to feel even worse. Surprise and confusion was beginning to wear thin towards general disdain, not specifically toward the young woman he'd locked in the bathroom, but the day as a whole.

He could hear the sounds of her scurrying about— wet footsteps moving from the door to what sounded like the window... and then a pause. For a moment, Valen quietly listened, still hearing the shifting movements of a trapped body in the room, before the reality truly set in— she really was trapped. There were locks on most of the servant passageways leading in, and they were on the second floor— she'd likely put herself into a dead end situation.

"...You only have yourself to blame for this." He finally spoke up, his gaze turning to the ceiling as he continued. "I cleared your departure with the guards, earlier— had you just left, you would not be in this situation..." He explained, shaking his head. Did she get lost? Or perhaps her wanting to leave was all an excuse to sneak away and infiltrate the building further... She would not speak, though, so he could not gauge her true motives, and to the council's point, her true threat.

When she heard the Duke speak through the door she tensed herself and strained to hear...

Did he just blame her for the predicament!?
She leapt down from the sill, absolutely livid. Stalking over to the door, she glared at his shadow beneath, where she assumed he'd be and growled. 

"Cleared my departure with the very guards you sent to chase me?" She hissed. Oh how she wanted to strangle him for saying such a thing! What guards chased someone just to let them go!?

Valen frowned, almost baffled as he listened for the sound of a reply— ideally one of remorse, given the trouble that the woman had thus far caused him— along with her potential accomplice— but instead found himself being met with a furious reply of outlandish proportions. Sent to chase her? He was trying to HELP her!

Whatever shadow the woman may have seen beneath the bathroom door almost immediately shifted at her words as Valen, outraged and exasperated, stood once more and turned to face the door with a stern look. "I was the one that stopped them from chasing you!" His voice was as soft as ever, yet it was clear that he was upset all the same. Like an annoyed kitten. "This is what happens when you don't listen."

What!? Stopped them? They were literally on her ass until five minutes ago! 

If her eyes could, they'd burn a hole through the wall- and the damn ignorant Duke!

"Maybe tou should talk to your guards about listening. I was chased through the servant's halls for nearly half an hour!"

Valen shook his head, disagreeing wholeheartedly with her words. His arms crossed, he contemplated opening the door just to yell at her to her face— had she just done as he asked, he could've definitely convinced the council otherwise!

"You were supposed to wait, not run! Of course they chased you— If you behave like a thief, you'll be treated like one!"

Valen's hair fluffed up under the pout-filled tantrum he was nearly throwing. So caught up in the moment was he that he'd practically forgotten himself— his more... "noble" persona set to the side for the moment.

"Valen?" Came a crotchety old voice from behind, where his uncle now sat in his wheeled chair, a scowl on his face. 

"Did I stop by at a bad time?" He showed some teeth as he grinned. "Fighting with one of the maids, I see. Don't waste your breath."

He moved now to wheel a little closer, huffing with effort before pausing to note how ruffled his nephew was. And how red his face. He cocked an eye brow.

"I didn't interrupt something else now did I?" 

Valen's eyes widened, and like magic, the light of life that was only just ignited in the back and forth he'd been having was quickly snuffed out as he remembered his place. The gruff voice of his uncle reminded him not only of where he was, but who he was— or at least, who he should've been. Who he was supposed to be in this moment.

"...Ahem. My apologies, uncle. I was just preparing to enter the bath." His voice lost its pout, and his expression lost its edge. He dared not act out of line in the presence of his family, who so benefited from his position, nor the council, who placed the expectations of all of Ardal upon him... Regardless of how either actually felt about him. "Someone was... is, already inside— likely one of the maids, as you say."

Internally, however, he was screaming— mostly at the 'maid' on the other side of the door, for somehow always being in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Is there aught I can assist you with?

The coloring of Valen's cheeks was not lost on the older man. The boy finally was taken with a maid? It was about time the boy became a man.

At the question, he snorted.

"Nothing that can't wait until after your activities, my duke," and although the older man didn't cackle, it was glittering in his dark eyes.

"Send a servant to fetch me once you're.. finished." And he bowed down his head before back wheeling himself out of the room. He clicked the door closed and moments later, the sound of his wheels on the stone was fading, indicating Valen was finally alone again.

Well, alone with her.

The very moment the scrawling sounds of older wheels faded away, Valen could feel a wave of relief and despair wash over his soul like blessed rain. It was stressful enough that he had to keep up appearances at all times, just to not be ridiculed or shamed for his incompetence— it was an entirely different fear that he might be caught in such an uncompromising position as to be viewed as a lecherous, or greed ful duke. He couldn't bear the thought of being a man of such poor morals in the eyes of the public.

Which brought his attention— and ire— back to the woman on the opposite side of the door. "You. Are making. My life. Harder!" With each word, he prodded at the door with his finger, as if the mysterious woman could feel it somehow. Rather than continue to bicker with her, though, Valen attempted to take the high road... for his own sanity's sake. "...Listen. I am going to open this door... and you are going to get out of my bathroom." He explained, slowly, clearly— almost as if in the back of his mind, he knew things weren't going to go as easily as he said. "And then I'm going to go into the bathroom... and you are going to find your own way out of the estate. Deal?"

Valeyn had grown quiet when she heard his uncle approach, and simmered down as she waited like a cat beside water. When he finally did begin to speak to her again, she frowned at the door, rather than glared.

What did he think she had been trying to do?

It was all so stressful and annoying. How had this mission gone so sour?

Considering his words, she wasn't sure how she ought to reply but considered her options. She could do as he said, but she'd be in the same predicament as before, left to her own devices to evade the guards.

On the other hand...
She had a Duke who.. could potentially be at her disposal. She knew that method was rarely fair but life was rarely fair. So she said nothing, and waited quietly, patiently just out of view if he'd open the door or peek in through a keyhole and waited.
 Contemplating her next move. 

Silence. Gods, why was this woman so aggressively anti-social!? His eyes darted across the room— firstly toward the doorway that his uncle had only just departed from, and secondly to the floor beneath the bathroom door— looking to find a shadow familiar to the one he'd been arguing with moments earlier.

There was none.

For goodness's sake— what was she doing NOW? Hopefully not back in his tub again. He would only tolerate so many of his sudsy bubbles being taken up by someone else— it was nigh on the only personal joy he had left in this world, his bath.

"...I'm going to take your silence as agreement, okay?" His voice was a lot less certain this time. The fact of the matter was that he was unarmed— and more importantly, he wasn't necessarily much of a fighter in the first place. She had not harmed him earlier; Surely she wouldn't harm him now, yes? The logic was there, for certain... and yet, the fear of the unknown remained all the same.

Still, his bubbles awaited.

"...One," He began to count, raising his hand to the door's lock, "Two..." He continued, his fingers pressing against the bolt-locking mechanism and rolling the lock free from its extension, and then finally— after another pause, twisting the doorknob.

"...Three."

Valen summoned what little courage he had left. The door opened, not too slowly, not all at once— a normal swing, as if no danger awaited him on the opposite side. And as he walked in, he found, to his surprise...

...No one. No one? The young duke blinked in confusion, almost positive a soaked sneak-thief awaited him within. Had he only had the wherewithal to actually look around him rather than just forward, he'd have realized he was not so alone as he began to think.

She had considered brandishing a knife, but thought better of it. She didn't need to give the man more reasons to throw her into a dungeon. So the moment he stepped in and stood with surprise, she stepped out of her place of hiding and grabbed hundreds by the front of his robe.

"Command the guards first,"  She demanded, eyes hard as she leaned closer, hand threatening to reach for the dagger at her hip. "I'm not about to allow myself to get chased through this castle again."

All she wanted was a way out of this.. but would that even work? But a second later.. a pair of guards entered the room and they immediately froze upon seeing the Duke, with his robes beginning to fall loose and a sudsy woman pressing in close with the bathroom door wide open.

"...!"

Her movements were too quick, his reaction far too slow. Before Valen had realized it, he found himself accosted by the current bane of his existence— pushed to a wall, his head throttling a bit from the sudden force. He was lucky to have held his breath— intentional or not, the strength she showed in pinning him back would've otherwise knocked the wind clean from his lungs.

'Command the guards first'? That wasn't part of the deal! And why didn't she at least ask that of him before he walked in!?

"YOU are the reason any of this even happened!" He complained, his face once more red with some mixture of outrage and lack of composure. He'd not immediately noticed the dagger her free hand appeared to be going for— his eyes not trained to look for such hidden movements among attackers, let alone anyone else.

How he wanted to give the girl a further peace of his mind— but he couldn't. No, instead he found himself immediately interrupted by the sudden presence of yet more members of the estate— the guard. Valen's eyes widened, and he froze on the spot— once more remembering not only himself, but the rather awkward position he now found himself in. His face remained flushed as he attempted to shift his hands to his robe, utterly ashamed of how indecent he looked at the moment.

"I—Th-this isn't what it looks like!" His response, somewhat cliché, was the first and only thing he could thing to say, his eyes darting back and forth with distress between the guards and the woman at this point.

In a sudden whirl of action, Vaelyn grabbed the Duke by the arms and yanked him inside the bathing room,the duo disappearing in a whirl of robes and bubbles. She kicked the door close, moving with haste to throw down the heavy wooden bar to lock the pair inside... doing this all before she could think better of it.

Then she turned, chewing on her words at him and glared daggers.

The young duke felt his heart stop for a moment's time, and his life flashed before his eyes. Once more he'd found himself on the receiving end of the woman's force, and as she hurriedly pulled him into the bathing room, Valen stumbled under the sudden shift in his balance, and fell to his knees and hands on the ground while the... thief? Kidnapper? Spy? Secured the door once more.

He was trapped now, with her.

And as she turned to him with venom in her eyes, what little strength of will Valen had steeled within himself crumbled— both due to knowing he could not escape her now, as well as having taken the briefest of glances at his bath, and being forced to acknowledge the horror that was the the suds of the bubbles already subsiding, leaving little more than a lukewarm tub of water... that this street rat had already defiled. Truly, nothing more— sans perhaps his life— could he stolen from him at this point.

"...Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?" His soft, weakened voice came out in several layered tones of defeat as he began to contemplate just how much more he was potentially going to be humiliated before the day was done. Already, he could hear the slamming of fists on the door— the guards having come running after seeing the random commotion and attempting to ensure the duke's safety.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself!" She hissed. "Now call off the guards." For they were still pounding on the door. She didn't exactly want to get skewered today, or in the best case scenario, tossed in jail.

Valen flinched at her anger, his trembling a bit more visible from the floor as he stared up at her, eyes filled with a mixture of fear and despair. The humidity in the room, driven by the long-escaped heat of the bath, had caused him to break out into a light perspiration— that, and the manic beating of his heart.

"...A-and you'll leave?" He couldn't help but ask, still uncertain of what he should do in this situation. He'd been here before... tried this before, but the council was right there to stop him. It was as if they were clairvoyant— always showing up whenever Valen tried to make a decision for himself, just to undermine it. "If... I ask them to let you go, you'll really leave?"

She'd never wanted to strangle someone so badly in all her days.
"What do you think I've been trying to do?"

She only felt a mild pang of remorse as she noticed the man seemed genuinely afraid of her. 

She supposed it was better that way.

The pounding on the door continued, "My lord? Is everything alright? "

It was then Uncle Rodham's voice cut through the others 
"What are you doing?! Are your brains made of brick? Vacate the royal bathing suite. The duke  is taken by a girl."

Valen's ears caught the terribly dry vocals of his uncle once more, and almost immediately what little life or hope left in him drained from his face— not that it was apparently visible as he raised him right hand to cover his eyes, coming to terms with what he, in his mind, had no choice but to do now.

"...Mother will be so disappointed in me," He whispered to himself. Valen thought the world of his mother— he would've died for her happiness in a heartbeat. The thought of such rumors being spread alone would've driven him to tears at this point normally, if he had the emotional capacity to do so. But the day had been long, and he'd gone through all 5 stages of grief in as many hours— he had very little left in him at this point. He pleaded with himself to steel his resolve one last time— and accept what would come.

Slowly, he stood, and walked to the door, wordlessly passing the young woman as he did so. Unbarring the entrance with a severe grunt, the door came free of its lock, and as the three men outside argued over the duke's 'circumstances', Valen opened the door to meet them.

"M-my lord—" One of the guards spoke, only for Valen to wave his concerns off with a very mentally exhausted, practically despondent look in his eyes. He clearly did not want to talk about... anything, really. "...I am done with the woman. Please see that she is escorted out of the demesne." His voice carried very little passion or rapture— from the outside looking in, the woman seemed to still be fully clothed, albeit wet. It was almost as if the duke... wasn't able to...

"...My lord—"

"That is an order, from your Duke. And I would have you— all of you— speak of it no further." Valen replied once more, his eyes not meeting any of the three men as he did so.

The men, being men, could only draw one real conclusion from it all— but neither of the guards dared to say it.

"...As you wish, your grace."

Vaelyn had truly feared the worst when she couldn't find a way out.. do when she was finally allowed to go..
It felt.. almost wrong.

She didn't spare a glance back and hurried on out of the place and from the manor proper..but as she quickly made her way from the keep.. 

She wasn't entirely sure where she ought to go. If Wrent turned coat.. was it even safe back with the rest? 

She spares one glance back at the castle, noting the window she had flung open from the bathing room.  Thank God she was away from there. Now she had to figure out what fate had in store next as she disappeared into the on coming night.

Valen sighed, the chaos of what he hoped would go down in history as the worst day of his life finally behind him. Resting quietly on a chair near the dressing table in the bathing suite, his hands running through the softened curls of his blonde locks, he looked as if he might fall over at any moment. In some senses, he felt just the same.

Not long after the departure of the mysterious woman— who's name Valen had never even managed to obtain— the maids were called in once more to re-prepare the duke's bath as he liked it— he could only ignore the strange glances and confused comments that spawned from such a request, given the fact that the young man was barely moist— the duke had never missed a bath, nor been one to absentmindedly forget one. Yet another rumor to the mill, the boy supposed, as he awaited the ladies to finish their work within the bathing room.

He couldn't help but think that somehow, some way, all of what had transpired today was his fault. He retraced everything he'd done that day over and over in his mind since finally parting from the raven-haired woman— practically traumatizing himself with scrutiny as he questioned why all that had happened, had happened. A stronger duke would've immediately called for her arrest, if not cut her down where she stood for so much as daring to intrude upon the Duchy's solar without permission. A wiser ruler would've never allowed themselves to be left alone with a potential threat. A real Connlaothian man wouldn't have been so quick to back down and shiver at simple insults and admonishments. But Valen... knew he was none of those things.

Deep down, he was just a false duke. And now, he was a false duke that even the men of the guard were likely to speak ill of behind his back— if they hadn't been already.

"Your grace, the bath is ready— y-your grace? Is something wrong?"

Valen was roused from his thoughts by the concerned voice of his maids and sudden realization of unnatural warmth on his cheeks. Tears... was he crying? When did he... What did it matter. He couldn't rightly tell the maids— or anyone— the truth of what had occurred today. Not without further due consequences against his good name.

"...All is well. I'm... just a a touch tired. Thank you, kindly. I'll call for you if aught else is needed... But I'd like to be alone for a time, please."

Alone... yeah. In hindsight, maybe that was what was best. Maybe the council had the right of it after all.

Several weeks later.. she had been coerced into doing the unthinkable . After vowing to never return to the palace, her crew concocted a plan (and somehow manufactured a stolen copy of an invitation..) for a Lady Vayana Ducois. It was debated over several days just who from the crew was fit to go to assume the role, and despite her protests and vehement words, even she  couldn't deny she was the best among the crew for the job.

She was the right age, and after some 'grooming' and giving lessons on propriety and dress, even those she worked with were stunned at the results- for after painting her up and taming down her wispy black hair, that now lay trimmed to short, framing curls about her head- she actually appeared as a proper lady should. 

Granted, the hair styles were typically worn long, Vaelyn's alter ego was meant to be some 'lady from the countryside ' visiting with her cousin, who had been cast to the leader of the pack- a charismatic blue eyed charmer, who was taking a bit too much to his role. Leave it to Feuno Harting to out do Vaelyn's jaw dropping impression. 

He noted the way she scowled at him and tutted. 

"Now, now, is that anyway for a Lady to act? Remember Vaelyn," Feuno went on, leading the dark haired woman towards the grand staircase leading up towards the Duke's manor. "You are no longer Vaelyn from the streets but Vayana of Rhastion Hill. And I, your esteemed cousin. Now come come, I promise you. No one will recognize you as that street rat that snuck in here a month ago."

Vaelyn glared death upon him but he only smiled brighter 

"You only have ten more seconds to glare, Vae. For its almost showtime."

In the weeks that had passed, the Duke of Ardal had made fewer appearances than ever before. It was initially looked upon as little more than an unusual absence, but as time went on rumors naturally began to spread about the absent noble. Some amongst the dukedom spread rumors that the duke had fallen ill, or had been poisoned— others claimed that their lord had taken to matter of the occult, and that the council was in some way covering up the fact that the duke was secretly a magister, or in league with other nations.

None of it mattered much to Valen. He had, in fact, become something of a recluse since the incident. The shock of a potential attempt on his life and the chaos that the woman who'd invaded the duchy had left severe scars on his mind, which would not be quick to heal. Nightmares played the young Duke, nightmares of his death, at the hands of assassins, of his kidnapping by unseen forces, of his lack of control over his own life. It was no wonder that his health continued to decline even in the absence of these forces.

Before long, the council found itself in quite the enviable situation for their own purposes; with the Duke so physically and mentally disposed, the council found more freedom in their actions than ever before. Where the Duke originally had the final say, in many of the taxes, tariffs, and legislation's that were brought before the Duchy, his recent night terrors, and resulting the lack of physical and mental strength at all, but sept him of his ability to make strong judgment decisions, allowing the council full reign over the future of the land and its people.

Today, the Duke was to entertain guests from the countryside. It was a common enough occurrence for the people of Ardal to request off a meeting with the Duke either to discuss matters of state or for potential sponsorship— though in recent days the number of meetings had dwindled due to the rumors surrounding the Duke's health. And as he sat upon the throne of Ardal's demesne, it was clear that there was some truth to those rumors. Adorned and noble robes, Valen's looked like a shadow of his former self, which, in and of itself, was quite the statement to make. There was an uncanny dullness to his eyes, as though the life had been stripped from them, and although he sat upright in his throne, he appeared close to ready to fall over at any given moment.

'Shoulders straight, gaze forward. Let no one question your foresight, even when you know not where you're headed. That is the way of a ruler.' Admonishing words from his father. They rang in his head again and again whensoever he was required to attend such meetings. To his left, and his right, a member of the council stood; stand ins for the Dukes, personal aids in these matters of great import. They had prepped him several times over with dialogue for the upcoming meeting; primarily lines of difference, which within, allow them to answer as needed. Weeks ago, Valen may have protested to some degree; today, however, he could do little more than nod in acceptance. He lacked the strength of will to do much more in his present condition.

She couldn't believe she was conned into this. Not only did she feel out of place, but as the pair were announced and joined the gaggles of guests, people were staring at her. She averted her gaze, trying her best not to kill those onlookers with a glare, when Feuno pulled her aside and tutted.

"Really now, we haven't even been here 5 minutes and your glowering."

Vaelyn gave him a sharp look.

"I'm not glowering..but people are staring at me. You think they know-"

Feuno cut her off.

"For one of my best pair of eyes, you sure ate dense. Take a look at the crowd, Vayana. See how they look? And look at the men, notvthe women. What do you see?"

"Eyes," came her short remark. "It's probably because I look ridiculous in this dress."

"Au contraire, the dark blue dress suits you... and those eyes?" Feuno took her hand, guiding her to look back out into the ballroom. "They're all looking at you. Why.. I'm even a little jealous. Normally even the men eat me with their eyes but I feel like a pile of horse shit next to my divine creation."

Vayana flushed and glared at him again. 

"Now come and rub that frown away. We're  at a ball.. the likes of our kind have never seen. And you.. my fair lady, are a star."

'Shoulders straight, gaze forward. Let no one question your foresight, even when you know not where you're headed. That is the way of a ruler.'

Valen closed his eyes, and took a long, calming breath. He stood just beyond the northern entrance to the estate's ballroom, his mind frayed with exhaustion and undue concerns that ate away at his soul even to the moment. He needed to be calm. He needed to be collected. A firm pat on his shoulder and a steel, reprimanding gaze reminded him of his place— a member of the council, urging him to carry forward as he was instructed. He opened his eyes, a burdened look in his gaze as he raised his hand and grasped the handle to the door.

The ballroom, of course, was abuzz with discussion and discourse— the high society of Ardal at its finest. Certainly, many an eye were upon the charming duo of newcomers— and yet, as the large, ornate doors leading further from the demesne opened, attention shifted slowly from them and toward the new coming presence. Indeed, the duke had at last presented himself to the ball. Adorned in robes of navy blue and silver, golden tresses flowing with each step taken, Valen quietly made his way onto the scene. Flanked on both sides by members of the council, the young duke made eye contact with no one, and spared not a glance to the public as he and his colleagues skirted the ballroom floor, and made for the seat of the court at the center of the ballroom's northern wall.

"Ah, the Duke has arrived."

"In 'good health', no less... dare I say he seems... lesser, today? Weakened, perhaps...?"

~

"So the young lord does deign to grace us with his presence, does he...?"

"Look, Miriam— see how he walks? See how shadowy he seems? 'Tis as if he is a different man."

"Perhaps the rumors are true, Diana... that the duke has taken to the occult...?"

"Gods, no... could he?"

~

"You don't think the rumors are true, do you...? That the duke is... 'impotent'?"

"How very crass of you to say! Though... it is true that the duke has never been seen with a woman..."

If the room was a murmur of whispers and gossip before, it became a bubbling brook moments after Valen took his seat, though he did not seem to mind. No, the boy almost in something of a daze— a metaphorical mental fog appearing to cloud his eyes as the council members immediately set upon him, whispered words in his ears about upcoming events and people of interest present at the ball. Valen's weary nods and down-crested gaze were all the more telling to the nosy crowds that seemed partially self absorbed, and partially intrigued in the young man.

And it was no wonder, honestly. The duke's presence at such events was often paired with a prepared speech, or a dance with a chosen partner... but their lord seemed visibly weakened. Neither looked as though they would be possible today.

It was no surprise that when the Duke made his arrival, the gossip had began. Feuno prodded her to keep her ears open, to listen for anything useful. But then he got a good look at the Duke and gaped.

"My, my.. despite the baggy look under his eyes, the Duke is gorgeous."

Vaelyn made a disapproving look at Fueno.. honestly... but as she stole a look his way, she too noted his eyes. But she also noticed the rest.  He looked obviously haggard. When she had run into him before, he was timid, and eventually argumentative, much more lively and full of life. Now he looked like a painting of fading colors. She supposed faded look aside, he was attractive.. and those robes... it made her feel self conscious. Like a pauper in a hall of kings.

She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed his looks before- curly blonde hair even a woman would die for.

"He's far prettier than me," she muttered but shook her head. She couldn't be caught gawking when there was work today. She turned towards Fueno.

"You can continue your gawking.. I'm getting myself something to drink."

But as she wound her way around the drink station, she couldn't help but feel clostraphobic from all the poofy wide dresses she had to navigate... despite the immense size of the hall. Once she did manage to procure a drink, she observed Feuno off and flirting with some dark haired man and frowned. 

What was she even doing here?

What was he even doing here?

The thought bounced around in his head amidst the blurred congregation of marching directives and notes of conduct implanted within him by the council. He questioned not his role as duke— unfitting of it though he felt— but his presence at this 'prestigious festival', as it were. Valen wasn't particularly attuned to the idea of flaunting nobility— he viewed his role as someone who served the people, not someone who the people serve... yet here he sat before an audience, not for the sake of country, but traditional grandstanding.

A 'display of authority', the council said. 'A show of strength in these uncertain times', they said. He felt neither. He hadn't for some time.

And someone— an unfamiliar face amidst the crowds— thought to take full advantage of it.

"Your grace. How lovely it is to meet you in-person." A voice matched a slow, almost languid saunter of heeled footsteps as a lone figure approached the duke's throne. Clearly the courageous sort— the other guests had already become so self absorbed in their own agendas, or content in their musings and rumormongering that none had thought to even speak with the young man. Yet before Valen and his aides now stood a woman of enchanting beauty— with long, scarlet hair highlighted with streaks of scarlet, supple skin and piercing crimson eyes. Her ballroom dress, a flowing series of shades of red and gold, was so expertly tailored to her body that it almost seemed to float with each step she took, never too long, never too short. It was like magic... but surely not. That'd be an unthinkable, frivolous application... even for her.

The council aides traced their eyes from the young woman, who could only have been a few years older than Valen himself, back to the duke; In that time, she made good her respect to the lord and council alike with a deep and heartfelt curtesy. Her crimson gaze slowly peeked back up at Valen as she did so— quite intrigued in whether or not she had done enough now to garner his attention, and to her great pleasure, she found that she had; The Duke, who'd been otherwise preoccupied in his own thoughts, had now focused his gaze to meet her own, a somewhat inquisitive look in his eyes. And why wouldn't he? Of the many nobles he'd commonly been made to convene with, she was not one whom he was familiar with. Nor had he ever seen her at prior gatherings— and Valen had an eye for faces, so as he studied hers he became certain of that.

"...I'm sorry, have we..."

Silence. The world around him suddenly became absolute silence. It was alarming, to say the least— and yet, as Valen attempted to react in confusion, he realized... he couldn't. His mouth wouldn't open. His eyes wouldn't widen. His breathing wouldn't race. Even his heart stilled, as if nothing were wrong at all. He felt... trapped, in his own skin. And yet, the most horrifying thing was not that his body would not answer his will... it was that it answered another's.

"...Ah, I remember now. Madam LaCroix, was it? It has been some time; I'm so very pleased you could make it to this event. I'd not expected such a pleasant surprise!"

"You flatter me, your grace; I am honored that you would remember my name."

"Perish the thought. An astronomer will naturally always remember the brightest of stars he sees; A duke, the most promising of his subjects."

The conversation, like shattered glass, caught nearly the entirety of the room by surprise. The duke, so openly and vibrantly speaking with this woman...? Just who was she? What relationship did she have with their lord?

Valen smiled warmly at her blushed face in response to his praise... but inside, he was screaming. Begging. Pleading that anyone could explain what was happening to him... yet no one answered. Not swiftly, at least. Yet as the conversation between his body and the woman before him continued on without him, a voice echoed into his mind. A familiar one... the same one that stood humbly before him.

'Enjoying the farce, Lord Nox?'

A simple question, and yet the cold, demeaning edge that lie in the tone of the voice in his mind shook the young man to his core. He suddenly felt very exposed; as if all that he was and would be was laid bare to the eyes of someone.. or something, that held nothing but malice for him. 'It seems you can be quite the charmer, when you don't choose to be... or perhaps you'd rather play the role of a lustful king, using the power of your name to take any woman you so desire... or a tyrant, that declares open war upon your neighboring duchies in hapless pursuit of power. My, my, so many possibilities...'

If Valen could cry, he would've broken down by now; if he could truly fall to his own knees and beg whatever madness had taken hold of him to leave him be, he would've. Yet he was helpless to the voice that had claimed him for its purposes— and could do nothing but watch through his soul's eyes as the world played out around him, without him.

'Worry not, your grace. I have already picked out the perfect role for you, and I shall ensure you play it to perfection. The charismatic and bright young leader of Ardal, who, at the front of his budding rule, falls victim to a terrible accident— an ill-begotten assassination. Oh, how the citizens will mourn their young Duke, as Madam Amelia LaCroix tells them the dreadful tale of how Lord Nox, while accompanying her on a lonely walk, was attacked by men wearing the colors and crests of the neighboring Duchies... how deeply their hatred will run, as Amelia warns the council of the assailants' threats of an active declaration of war against Ardal. Poetic... beautiful.'

Fear. Panic. Rage. Despair. Self-loathing for his own weakness. Valen could feel all of this, deep down in his soul as he listened to the voice within, yet continued to smile and converse without. 'Even should war not immediately destroy the land, it will be no less simple to erode the structure of the Duchy— and from there, the nation— with but a few more well-placed lies... and a dagger or two. So rejoice, your grace... yours shall be the most beautiful of deaths, from whence the exposition of the greatest of plays shall begin. You need only watch with amor from the front seats... as your play your part to the very end.'

In the waking world, outside of Valen's mind, the young man smiled. "You are just returned from the north, yes? I should be glad to hear of your recent exploits in the capital. Come; though I do so enjoy the dancing, I tire of this throne. Walk with me, Madam, along the terraces— I would have you regale me... In a more private setting." The duke gingerly declared, standing renewed from his chair as he did so. The council, obviously bewildered by the young man's sudden bright and engaging persona, immediately moved to see that he was fine— but with a flick of his wrist and a wave of his hand, he dismissed them all the same, leaving the two aides dumbfounded at his newly-acquired energy. It was odd... almost as if her were enchanted. Yet despite their concerns, neither stopped the duke, as he began to leave with 'LaCroix', knowing there was only so far they could openly protest the duke's behavior in public.

Amelia smiled sweetly, leading Valen toward a door to the northeast of the room. All was proceeding according to plan. Soon... soon, true hell would befall the Duchy, and it's crown.

The scene across the room gained everyone's attention, and were it an enchantment or not, Vaelyn found she couldn't look away. There was something.. wrong about the interaction, and her brows knit together as she tried to steal a glance to Feuno. 

Of course the man was preoccupied.  Why did he decide to tag along if he was just going to flirt and not work? Well, Vaelyn had a job to do. Taking a hold of her skirts so she could walk more easily, she began to make her way towards the parting Duke and this woman, this Lady LaCroix.

She couldn't shake the cold feeling in her belly and used just the subtle amount of her magical energies to stifle the clicking sounds of her heeled shoes. The more she went over the interaction in her head, the more she concentrated on the shift in Valen's demeanor. Yes.. something was just not adding up. And Vaelyn aimed to find out what.

"Tell me; will you be in the capital long, this visit?"

"My apologies, my lord; I fear I am needed in the west e'er long. I will likely not stay longer than a fortnight."

"Ah, alas. I had hoped to keep you by my side a bit longer, but even I could not be so greedy as to hold you all to myself."

"You flatter me, my lord."

Amelia LaCroix was reveling in the feeling of self-importance she donned herself with as she slowly, almost languidly walked the court with the bewitched Valen, before leaving the room through the north exit. Valen— or at least, his body— was all too keen to keep close to the mysterious mistress, walking almost hand in hand with her— yet only barely out of reach. She couldn't be 'too' obvious after all. Drawing the jealousy and ire of the court was part and parcel of her plan, after all— she needed an alibi for herself before the kill. Her ability to turn others into practical puppets was not something that came without cost— exercising her magic over multiple targets took a good deal more concentration, and so it was most efficient to simply take control of the most important member of any congregation, in order to best control the narrative.

The two of them made their way out into the northern courtyard, which was essentially empty— the majority of the staff having been pulled to attend to the ball. With few eyes left upon the two, Amelia and Valen stopped before a large, ivory centerpiece fountain— the central focus of the yard. Beautiful and pure as it was, it almost seemed a bit of a waste to taint its polished edges with fresh shades of red... but it would make for quite the dramatic set piece.

"This will do nicely... now then, my lord. Would you be so kind as to come and sit here, on the ledge of the fountain? I'd like the setting to be as vivid as possible— your blood staining the fountain waters will create such a wonderful plot... though for you, I suppose it would be the climax."

Her tone took a far less humble, far more sinister note as she waved a single hand toward the fountain, and Valen, obediently did as he was told, showing no sign of resistance or fear. His eyes neither wavered nor betrayed the woman's magic, even as she slowly pulled a dagger— one with a strange, crimson glow— from the sleeve of her eloquent dress.

"Poor little duke... my adorably pathetic, lost, little bird, trapped within your own cage... as the nest burns you alive. May your death being an end to this accursed country." She teased, venom oozing from her final words as she raised the blade to strike down the young man for good and all.

Her magical silence kept her quiet as she pursued, pausing at the edge of the gardens- lest she be seen.

Now that she was close enough, she dropped her silencing bubble of magic she conjured around herself and held her breath, listening. And her blood ran cold as a sense of dred washed through her, twisting and filling her belly.

Her legs felt like lead as she watched the woman, who promised death and to paint the fountain red with the Duke's blood.

Oh no.

There wasn't time to think, the blade was there, ready to strike- and the Duke..she didn't understand why he didn't fight back.. why he didn't try to run, but her instincts kicked in...
To survive and she ran.

While the villainous woman raised her dagger in a flourish, Vaelyn cut the distance between the fountain and her foe in dramatic seconds, whipping out a thin blade of her own to parry the dagger off from it's path and away from Valen, before instinctively cutting the thin blade towards the other woman's eyes  while shouting. 

"Run!" After the Duke, who still seemed to be sitting there like some unanimated doll.

"Ugh—!"

The setting was perfect. The characters were in place, and the moment was ripe for the great climax— yet as Amelia staggered from the parrying of her blade, she couldn't help but wonder with great exasperation— where did this plot twist come from!? Her eyes flickered— a strange light within them, a telling sign of magic, flickering in and out of view. Her concentration had been broken— her play had been disturbed!

Regaining her bearings, she was just as quick as the woman to bring her own dagger to protect her face, before engaging in a war of strength with this unknown variable. A guard in disguise? It couldn't be— Amelia had planned this attack for so long, studied all the faces of the duke's demesne— this woman was not one of them. Then who?

All the while, Valen still sat before them— frozen in place, but no longer through magical compulsion. Now, he sat frozen with a myriad number of fears and traumas alike— the very real attempt on his life just now having practically shocked him into a state of disassociation. He wasn't sure what was happening anymore— he wasn't sure if what he was experiencing was real, or some magic cast upon him yet again.

Seeing this from the corner of her eye, Amelia mentally breathed a sigh of relief; the duke was clearly too scared to so much as attempt to run. That made things a bit easier... and gave her a backup plan if this situation spiraled any further out of hand. For now, she would try to set her grand play back on track, and use this new variable to her advantage. "Who are you? Why are you interfering in my play!?" She demanded answers from the mysterious woman, a terrible glow in her eyes as she pressured her further while glaring her down. She only needed an answer— it didn't matter what, so long as she willing became an actor in her play. Oh, how glorious it would be to need only watch as the Duke's life was ended by the hand of another, freeing her entirely from all suspicions...

The Duke was too much in shock to run.. or something else foul was in play. Ansgar's name.. why wasn't he running!?

At her question, her eyes narrowed in response. 
But then she felt an odd sense wash over her.. those eyes...
Oh no.

Before she knew what was happening, she felt compelled to answer. But somehow she kept a response choked inside her throat.

Was.. was this woman using magics on her?!

The way her eyes glowed...
And she actually found herself wishing the Duke had mordecai on hand. 

Sge wasn't about to wait and let the woman react again; as Vaelyn spun soundless on her heels and grabbed Valen by his shirt, yanking him to his feet 

"RUN!"

The glow in Amelia's eyes flickered once more, and her gaze adopted a slight sense of confusion as the woman before her resisted her spell of compulsion. That... shouldn't have been possible, unless— realization dawned on the scarlet-haired woman's face as she realized what had just happened.

"You're a mage, too!" The vitriol in her voice could've melted steel. She wasn't disgusted by the existence of another magic user here— no, she was more than amused at the thought, even. What she was furious about, however, was her actions. "Why are you helping him!? We're on the same side!"

And yet, no answer. Instead, the girl continued to attempt to assist the duke, whose legs could barely support the weight of his body as all the blood in his veins had rushed to his head. He was still paralyzed— his fear having gripped him so deeply that he could barely breathe— or at least he felt as much, even though he was hyperventilating. His heart was beating louder than the screamed demand that he run away— louder than just about anything at the moment. His legs wouldn't move.

Amelia, sensing the opportunity, reached into a small, hidden compartment on the side of her dress, pulling out a small, yet undeniably sharp set of throwing daggers. "I do what I must for all mages— I can't let you interfere, mage or not!" She declared, and with impressive aim, she threw one of the daggers at the pair, aiming for Valen's head. If the woman became a casualty in this, so be it— she would serve her purpose one way or the other.

And the knife was knocked clean from the air as another metal blur smacked it clean off its course. 

Vaelyn turned, gaping.
"Feuno!?"

He tutted and looked down at her struggling with the Duke.

"Honestly.. I leave you alone for two seconds and you're already making moves on the sexy Duke."

Vaelyn shook her head, but then noted he had out his throwing knives and was grinning after the other woman whose knife he knocked away.

"I've been itching to use these."

But then Vaelyn cut off his words 

"Fueno, be careful! Don't look into her eyes! I think she uses compulsion magic!"

Fueno regarded the other woman and his grin only grew wider. 

"Oh? Well, compell this. " and he threw a dagger clean at her face. 

How vexing! Amelia matched this newcomer's skill with a throw of her own, the two blades once more colliding and flying off of their initial courses. A frustrated smile grew on the woman's face as she came to realize how, in so short a time, she was outnumbered.

"To think my play would be ruined by such malignant actors... and just short of the climax. The audience will surely be displeased..." She eyed the duke, and once more the woman who'd moved to protect him, and then the newcomer. Yet another face she didn't recognize... Quite skilled with blades, he was— had she not been at least as skilled, she might've been in trouble there. But the situation was quickly worsening— the needless screaming paired with the duke's absence was beginning to attract the attention of the ballroom, which would soon mean the guard and council were like to show up.

With a sigh, Amelia shook her head. She hadn't been planning on making her exit this way, but with no the risk of Valen's father showing up soon, she had to make good her escape. "Alas— no play survives the first revision. The audience will have their tragedy yet, I assure you— until then, I would bid you remember this, fellow mage."

Pulling out a small, green stone from her hidden pocket, Amelia's smile turned sickeningly grim. "Whether you like it or not, you and I are on the same side— the tragic heroines of this cruel play. The real villain of our story... hides behind the Puppet Duke." Suddenly, the stone in her hand flashed a bright, blinging green, engulfing the figure of the red-headed assassin... and a moment later, she was gone.

Vaelyn hadn't made it far with the Duke before Fueno joined them, taking Valen by his other arm.

"You know, Vayana, I do wish you'd remember our code named " he tutted.

She gave him a look as the pair were more easily able to maneuver the Duke to safety. They had managed to get him inside, although purposefully moving him towards an opposing side of the festivities.  

Now where it seemed the group was alone in a study, Vaelyn moved to ensure the woman hadn't followed. Fueno frowned. 

"She won't be coming, I fear. That stone... basically a one way teleportation spell. Fickle things, those  " his eyes narrowed as he rubbed his chin in thought. "Expensive, too "

Vaelyn turned back to look at him, then down to the Duke as she frowned.

Why did she always end up needing to save this man's life?

Said Duke, meanwhile, had broken out into a cold sweat in the process of being relocated. His body only followed the motions that would've been expected of him— he still had not recovered his mind, not fully. How could he? So much had just happened in so little time— his body, stolen from him; his life, nearly ended without his even being able to scream. He had gone near-into shock, just trying to process if he was even truly safe- or actually alive, even.

With his return, while the majority of the guests didn't take notice, the council did— and just as discreetly as the three of them had entered moments earlier, so too did the two members of the council who'd been accompanying Valen approach them, with narrowed eyes yet calmed demeanors.

It wasn't exactly a mystery as to why they seemed upset, given the state of their lord— who they did their best to hide from the other guests by positioning themselves in between Valen and the public's line of sight while addressing the two who were with them.

"I should rather hope you have a very firm explanation as to why the Duke has gone so pale... Or why you were carrying him inside in the first place." One of the council members spoke up, while the other gestured discreetly to a nearby maidservant, who seemed to understand the request and quickly scurried off... somewhere.

"What has happened here... why is the Duke in such a state, and where is the woman he left with? Know that your answers are all that stand between you and the inquisitor's dungeons right now." The man continued to speak, a surprisingly look of disinterest on his face as he glanced to Valen, then back to the two guests. It was clear that his words didn't come from a place of worry— more so a sense of entitlement, perhaps?

Vaelyn was irritated at the situation beyond belief and every instinct of hers was screaming to run. But she was stuck between abandoning the Duke and dealing with a new set of circumstances..
When Fueno stepped foward- the man all polished smiles. 

"Why you're late! And to think you are here to now question me." The man tutted. "The woman left almost immediately once she had brought the Duke out here to break away from prying eyes. We knew the pair would have limited time.. but oh, you know how young love is," Fueno pressed, gesturing towards where Vaelyn still remained in close with Valen.

"Shame they wanted to court in secret. They make such an adorable couple, don't you agree? Oh and look at how Lady Vayana blushes! She's  fiery one, that girl. But oh..who are we to dismiss the acts of true love? A true tale that the gossipers would gobble up.. having a field day."

It was true, Vaelyn's face was red. But she felt it was truly out of anger than..than.. embarrassment. 

But while Fueno distracted, she couldn't ignore that the Duke did look extra pale. She frowned, concerned, and asked softly,"Are you okay?"

He looked about ready to pass out.

Valen didn't respond. He couldn't. He barely heard the woman's voice— barely realized her presence in the moment. He mind and heart we're still gripped by the events that had just transpired. He was still hyperventilating— his body trembling and cold to the touch. He still questioned if he was even truly in control of his own faculties again— the impact of having his body's control torn from him having left a profound mark on his psyche. He'd never experienced magic before— never seen it, never known it could be used to such horrifying ends. Perhaps his father was right...

Meanwhile, things were not going necessarily well with the council and Vaelyn's compatriot. As Fueno spun a devious tale, the councilman's eyes narrowed, his hand revealing itself from beneath his robe as he fought the urge to call the guard needlessly. "You speak of your lord— mind your tongue, lest you prefer it cut from your mouth." He reprimanded the 'noble', clearly unamused by the story he was told. It was only then that the man actually took a proper look at Fueno, as well as the woman behind him, nearest to the duke... and only then that realization took him. "...Who are you? Your faces aren't known to me. How were you able to—"

"Stirring up trouble again, Edwin?"

Footsteps approached; heavy, combat boots, with metal lining and steel toes. A familiar sense of oppression for everyone washed over the corner of the ballroom; for some, it was the voice alone that changed the mood of the room. For the more magically inclined, however, it was a far less pleasant feeling— Mordecaism. Along came a man who stood somewhere close to 6 and half feet tall; with short, black hair, weathered skin, and surprisingly... the same shade of blue eyes as Valen's own.

'Edwin', the annoyed councilman, along with the other turned to acknowledge the presence... albeit somewhat unwillingly. "Lord Evan." He reluctantly spoke, bowing courteously to the the duke's father— a show of respect that was promptly ignored, as Evan stepped past the two councilmen, as well as Fueno, not even deigning to acknowledge his presence.

No, he had come to see his boy, who still stood shaken in the corner. "Move," He commanded of Vaelyn, stepping past her as well as he closed the distance twixt himself and his son. He paused, looking the dejected boy over once, then turning to ensure that the ballroom still hadn't noticed them in the corner. Good, they hadn't. It was only then that Evan Nox surprised the immediate audience by reaching down at his son's face, and with a vice-like grip, he clasped his battle-worm, calloused hand around his throat, nearly choking what little life remained in the duke out of him. In doing so, he yanked Valen's face— which was now suddenly alight with newfound fear and awareness of his circumstances, upward to look him in the eye— lifting the boy off his feet as he did so.

"Lord Evan—!"

The man did not bother to explain his actions. He gazed into the eyes of his son, which were filled with such weakness and vulnerability, and let on a menacing glare— the look of a man who'd killed many, many times before. "Imagine my surprise to return home from business in the north, only to find myself swarmed by rumors of the Duke's— of my own son's impotence, of his lecherous escapades. Imagine my disdain to find the lord of this land— the leader of its people— in such a deplorable state. You are not the son I raised. You are not the Duke I fought to ensure seceded the throne."

Tears welled in Valen's eyes as he felt his mind and heart being pushed far and beyond their breaking point by his father's words, but the glare on his face warned him under threat of harm that he was not to let them fall. "Pull yourself together. You will not embarrass yourself— nor me— this day." And with those words, he unceremoniously released Valen, who dropped a solid half-foot to the ground, stumbling backward agains the wall to support himself.

Neither of the council members moved to help or support the Duke— as was expected. Instead, with his head lowered, Valen merely steadied himself on his own feet, before moving away from the wall. "Shoulders straight, gaze forward. Let no one question your foresight, even when you know not where you're headed. That is the way of a ruler." His father commanded, before turning away. "We shall speak of your... 'behavior' in my absence, later." And just as quickly as he had come, Evan Nox left— the oppressing aura that surrounded him leaving with him.

For once on his life, Fueno was at a loss of words. And the silence that hung in the air long after Valen's father had left was heavy and palpable. 

Vaelyn hadn't realized she had resorted to cowering in a corner when the man appeared, and she had felt absolutely useless when not only thr sense of dred over her powers becoming snuffed out held over her.. but over the simple presence and booming actions the man simply exuded.

Once he left and she felt that oppression subside did she truly feel as if she could breath again. What.. who.. how? She wasn't even sure she wanted to know what they had just encountered as she spared a glance over towards Fueno.

"Perhaps.." he went on, the first to break the silence.  "We should.. leave the Duke to freshen himself for the evening. It. Has already been an eventful start."

However, even as Fueno moved towards the exit- and her own legs screamed to do the same, Vaelyn found herself as equally petrified as the Duke and simply couldn't move in that moment. Yet she desperately wanted to flee.

Perhaps the most surprising reaction of all those in attendance of the scene that just took place was the councilman, Edwin-- who, even after witnessing the scene that had just unfolded, merely looked the other way at the suggestion of giving the duke a moment of respite. "Do not be absurd. The duke's absence has gone unnoticed for long enough-- he will return to overseeing the event, as is his duty. Is this not so, my lord?" To call the man cruel after witnessing what he had would be an understatement. Despite his words, however, the one who was addressed... did not debate him.

"...Yes." Valen's voice came as a shattered, despondent mess; fitting given how unsettled he looked at the present. The light of life in his downcast eyes had all but been extinguished, and while he was no longer hyperventilating, a close inspection was enough to reveal that he was still very much trembling; a combination of the shock from his attempted assassination earlier, and his father's words breaking what little strength he had left. It was the gaze of a man who had lost the will to live, but soldiered on all the same.

With that settled, the other councilman who'd been accompanying Edwin moved toward Valen, to escort him back to his seat at the forefront of the ballroom. Valen didn't resist, and didn't utter a word as the man came to stand with and walk with him back to the front of the event. Edwin, meanwhile, simply adjusted his glasses and, as though his actions and decisions were perfectly normal, began to turn away from the duo of Vaelyn and Fueno in turn. "Right, then. In lieu of extenuating circumstances, I would speak of this no further-- and have you speak of this no further. There are enough nonsensical rumors surrounding the duke at present without your adding further to it. You are free to sojourn the event for the remainder of your time. Carry on."

As she watched in.. horror, was it? Shock? - as the Duke was simply escorted away to act as if nothing had happened, Vaelyn felt a sudden rage, a sudden anger twist inside her. Did the Duke not see how cruelly he was being treated? She had heard how awful politics could become the higher the ladder you were... but this? 

So many emotions simmered from within her as she glared at the back of Edwin's head. And the fact this man just dismissed the pair so easily.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Fueno placed a hand upon her shoulder. 

"Easy, Vaelyn.. this isn't your battle. Don't let your temper control you."

She cut a glare his way then watched as the Duke and Edwin disappeared back into the party, eyes hard as they stood there in silence.

"That.. woman.." she said, trying to push through the political mess back to the original problem
 "Do you think she's gone... gone? "

Fueno cocked a brow at her and shrugged. 

"As another person who adores making a grand entrance, I'd say we paved her permenant retreat for the night. But I have a feeling thats.. not all you're concerned about." He frowned at her. "Don't think too much about what transpired.. after the incident," he began to say. "It.. they... let's just say live in another world entirely from us."

Fueno called it proper; The remainder of the ball went on without incident, for the most part. No further assassination attempts, magical or otherwise, were made on the Duke's life-- but his social standing was attacked and picked apart all the same. Those self-same wicked eyes and wicked hearts who whispered deceitful and hurtful rumors behind his back were in proper form once more, as the Duke was escorted back to his seat. Why was the Duke being walked about like a child? Was he unwell? Was he truly so lost without his precious council that he could not even walk a few steps without them? What had happened to the woman he'd left with earlier? Had she turned down the Duke's advances as well?

The rumor mill was in full steam, and Valen could do nothing but bear the brunt of it. Even Evan Nox, who at one point in the event called the ballroom's attention for a rousing speech and a bit of grandstanding on his achievements and the 'strength of the duchy', could only do so much mitigate the devolving disposition of the attendees, and only for a little while before they resumed their gossip. This only served to further fowl the man's mood, and as his gaze turned toward his son, who fought with all his heart to avoid meeting his father's eyes, he swore that they would indeed have words about the situation afterwards.

Hours passed; Afternoon gave way to night. The Duke was at last excused from the event, and as expected, escorted directly to his personal chambers. His father had beaten him there, having left the festivities earlier in the evening, and after waving the council and maidservants away, he and Valen... 'talked'. Or at least, Evan talked. And hit his son. Several times.

By the time he was satisfied with his handiwork, Valen was sprawled on the floor of his chamber, unresponsive yet conscious. Evan was careful to avoid his face and hands, after all; The hands of the lord of Ardal, the face of the light of hope of the duchy, couldn't be scarred or bruised. The rest of him, though... "Pull yourself together. And do not dare to put on such a disrespectful show in front of me, ever again." The older man spat, before leaving the room-- and leaving Valen alone with his thoughts. Slowly, carefully, Valen managed to pull himself to his knees... but them fell back to the floor. In that moment, he lacked the strength of mind, body, and spirit to stand on his own two feet. He presumed at some point a maid or one of the councilmen would find him, and he'd be forced to attention-- but until then, he just... couldn't.

Despite his best efforts to warn her against it, once Vaelyn had her mind set to something, she saw it done. So while the other party goers had left (Fueno included) , Vaelyn had taken the time to.. slip away.

She had been in the palace before, had been run and chased through the back hallways, and now that her mind was a little more clear from that night- she began to remember the way.

Why had it been so impossible to recall directions when she had been pursued? She chided herself over and over as she moved, quiet and stealthy- and dressed now in some stolen maids uniforms she had the brilliant idea to confiscate while Fueno worked his charms. And although the dress was a little too large for her, it worked just as well.

As she moved, she was careful to be silent- but it didn't seem necessary.  There were no other maids nor servants in the hallways, the secret ones or otherwise.   

How strange.  Infact, the palace was the complete opposite of when it was lively during the ball. This made her frown. Was.. there no work for them to do? Surely there had to be much to do after such an extravagant party.

Well, she should be nearing the Duke's chambers by now. And it's when she heard something. An awful noise.  A terrible noise that made her stomach drop and twist as I'd filled clean with lead. 

The duke.. she paled..
He was being beaten.

She wasn't sure how long she remained silent or had held her breath, but she eventually realized she had started to shake and began to work on calming herself.

There was nothing that could be done about it. He lived in another world. She shouldn't have tries to pry and yet...

She turned, startled by the sudden scraping of foot falls behind her. Before she could think better of it, she slipped into the Duke's bedchambers and closed the door quietly , and quickly, behind her . Then locked the door was a soft click, one she forgot to muffle with her magics.

It was only when whomever was on the other side of the door tried to open it that Vaelyn tensed. And listened. Whoever it was cursed and mentioned to another voice they ought to return later.  Vaelyn wilted with relief. Whatever the Duke had gone through.. he could have a moment longer of privacy...

That was.. until she realized, foolishly, she denied him now of that as she slowly turned around and froze at the sight of his body on the floor. She paled, fear zinging through her.

Was.. was he.. dead?

Ah, the silence. How long had he been laying here? He wasn't sure; He couldn't count the seconds, as he'd slipped in and out of consciousness at least once or twice already. No one had come for him, and his senses were still so overwhelmed by the pain his father had inflicted on him-- it must not have been long. The rhythmic beating of his heart and thumping, pulsing rushes of pain from the new bruises and swelling he could feel forming on his body further cemented that.

His father had never loved him-- not truly. Valen knew this, because he knew what love felt like. His mother loved him-- she doted on him, practically smothered him, and had even threatened his health in her own ways-- but beyond those obsessive tendencies, he knew she still loved him, and that those acts were born out of her intense love for him. No, his father by comparison saw him for his worth-- a playing piece for him to move about the board that was Ardal, and the nation as a whole, while the council quietly deferred to his more sadistic tendencies so long as they were allowed to rule the state from the shadows.

He knew he was little more than a figurehead. A puppet. And yet, he was powerless to change his own fate. Perhaps his feebleness as a man was born from the fact that he knew how powerless he was in the grand scheme of the duchy-- in the grand scheme of his own life.

The blonde man was suddenly racked by lightning-- a sear of pain shooting through his torso and chest as he instinctively turned on his side and fell into a coughing fit, blood spewing from his lips with each aching breath. He wasn't surprised; He'd always had a weak constitution. It was no wonder to him that those strikes to his chest and ribs may have broken bone, or ruptured organs. Eventually the pain subsided, but like the ocean cascaded waves, so to did Valen understand that it would return.

Yes, the pain would always return. And when he healed, his father would likely beat him again for some other foolish mistake or perceived insult to his name that he'd made. There really was no other option-- no other future that Valen could envision for himself. This was, and had always been his life, and would likely always be his life. Until the day he died... perhaps even beyond.

Slowly, he picked himself up from the floor. His movements were unsteady-- unsurprising of someone who'd just experienced what he had. Tears ran down his face, though he was in so much pain that he hadn't noticed it. His golden locks were stained slightly red from whence the blood he spit out meshed with his hair. His eyes lacked life-- as if he'd lost his sight. He looked like a man on death's door-- perhaps walking through. He wandered, slowly, toward the window of his abode, and slowly, his shaky hands unlatching the lock that held the door-like windows closed, and he pressed them open, allowing a gentle breeze into the room.

Ah... He was so high up. The breeze felt so nice. As he slowly began to lean further and further against, and outside of the window he couldn't help but wonder... what would happen if...

When he moved she was relieved. It had been startling to over hear the trauma he had gone through...but something seemed.. off... worrisome About his demeanor. But she held back..uncertain. 

The man hadn't realized he trespassing... did she dare push her luck? Perhaps she ought to slip back through the servants quarters...

But when she turned to leave... she bumped into a slender and tall candelabra, cursing as she attempted to grab it from making noise and blossoming out her magics in hopes to catch it.

Too bad one of the candles fell off and bounced onto the marble floor, just outside of her silencing bubble.

Valen heard the fallen candle tap haplessly on the ground, rolling across the cool, marble tile until it collided softly with a dresser, and slowly he turned his gaze away from the freedom of the moonlit night, and toward the source of the noise. There, to his surprise, he found a familiar woman...

Or at least, that was what he would've liked to feel. Surprise, shock, anger at his personal space being intruded upon- anything, really. Yet as his tired, lifeless eyes gazed into— or perhaps beyond— her maid-guises figure, he felt... nothing. He knew he should've felt something, aside from the pain still reverberating through his body, but he didn't. He couldn't even think of a reason she would've been there— and yet, as if prioritizing what few mental functions it could, Valen's mind didn't even think of the potential reasons or ramifications.

Instead, having identified the source of the noise, Valen simply turned away, looking back to the moonlit sky, and heights from which he stood.

"...Have you come to kill me? Or perhaps laugh?" Speaking was an effort on his part— the pain in his chest and the bare, coarseness of this voice leading him to believe his father had done a little too much damage this time. Normally he avoided hitting or hurting him in any way that would prevent him from fulfilling his role as duke.

"It's a pleasant evening. Normally the quiet would scare me... but tonight, it's strange. I find it comforting. I find myself wondering what it would feel like to have this silence with me for an eternity."

Vaelyn visibly flinched at her discovery, and held that emotion as she noted the hollow, pained look of the Duke.
But when he talked.. she knew exactly what he meant and just let the heavy silence be shared between them.

She approached, still saying nothing as she peered out the large window.  They were so high up... it reminded her of Wrent.  Her frown deepened at that. 

"Why do you allow it?" She asked softly, surprised at her own forwardness with the question - eyes stuck on the dark horizon of night.

He was the Duke yet... things here were far more complicated than she'd imagined. She had taken this spy job for the money.. but now?

What was she even doing here?

Valen closed his eyes for a moment, and reflected on the question posed to him. He understood what she was asking, of course— anyone in her position might've asked the same question, he figured. From the outside looking in, it seemed like insanity... or so he assumed.

And yet...

"How much do you know about this duchy? It's lineage?" His question may have seemed completely unrelated for a time, but he did not leave her to dwell on it for long. "My predecessor... abandoned the throne. The rumor that was spread among the people of the duchy was that he died in his sleep, but the story goes that he eloped with some mage, knowing that such a relationship would've put him to the blade if he came forward with it. There were no direct successors. No one was even willing to step forward."

He opened his eyes once more, and stared up into the clear sky, admiring the moon through his pain. "My father saw in me a candidate for the title of Duke— connected to the throne through the blood of my mother. But I... never wanted the crown." Thinking more intently on his words, he continued. "I am no leader. I've fought no battles, pursued no fame or glory of my own. The people see their 'adorable little Duke' as a symbol of the renewed purity of Ardal's future after the scandal that was the former beloved Duke's absence without a direct heir. A figurehead that needs only smile and wave at the masses while the council rules the duchy proper from behind."

Valen had to stop for a moment to collect himself— not emotionally, but physically as a particular wave of pain caused him to wearily shudder, and lower his head. He must've been delirious right now. Why was he saying all of this? If his father had been listening, he'd surely beat him further toward the brink of his life. "...I have no illusions of self-worth. The rumor that I'd grown sick was spread recently, as a countermeasure in case I were to be assassinated. No one would question the feeble, reclusive Duke's death if I were to die tonight. I'm certain the council has already begun making arrangements for my replacement, should it happen. I... I suppose you'd think I might follow in my predecessor's footsteps if I knew that, but..." He explained further, before closing his eyes once more and steadying himself. "...But I love Ardal. It's my home. It may have treated me poorly... it may have laughed at me behind my back, or beaten me into such a wretched state... but it's all I've ever known. If the ember of my life would be burned out to keep the fire of this duchy alight, then that is what it must be."

She listened to what he said in silent courtesy. She knew very little about politics. What does a poor girl from the streets know about that? She was lucky when she was able to eat most weeks.. and thus found herself on this path.

"I'm not here to murder you," she told him, staring out at the twinkling night. That much should have been evident on their previous night's rendezvous bonus.

"I work as a spy. I'm meant to gather information. "

Why was she telling him this? He'd likely regret his own confessions yet...

Something about it felt good to get her secret lifestyle off her chest.  She supposed, in a way- she understood him.

She had been there- beaten and broken in the streets. Used for what she was. She was actually lucky to fall in line with Fueno. His work was more decent.. the workers.. well,,, Fueno never even entertained beating her. 

She leaned against the window, the stone feeling cool to the touch as she looked down at the manicured lawns sparkling with dew.

"Do you really love your home that much?"

Valen smiled, though it was both an emotionally and physically painful one. "A spy, hm...? Fascinating. Though I fear you've chosen a poor target."  He mused to himself on how unfortunate it was for her— the only thing she'd probably learned from spying on him was how fragile the house of cards that was this duchy's leadership really was.

"As for this duchy, my home... it's all I've ever known."

He repeated the phrase from earlier, looking down at the self-same foliage and lawn that the young woman was now peering over.

"If you could leave everything behind right now— all of your struggles as a spy, the threats on your life, all of it— would you?" It was a strange question, one that almost seemed out of the blue for the duke. "I know very little of you, so... forgive my forwardness, but I imagine we are not too unalike, you and I. Something in me tells me that you didn't choose the life you're living... but here you are."

He could not know how right or wrong he was— only that in his experience, no one dreamed of being used— of being a tool to meet the goals of someone else. And yet, the duchy had shown him that there were no shortage of people who were slaves to their fates— himself included.

"I imagine you wouldn't. Because no matter how much you wanted better for yourself, you have... something— the only person who makes life worth living as it is, or a place you can call your own. It's... it's fear, and it's objectively tragic, but it's also acceptance of your place in the world." With that rather roundabout explanation he merely shook his head, continuing to stare out into the night. "So no... no, I suppose I don't. But it's all I have left."

She listened quietly and grew silent long after he spoke.

"Your father.. is he your only family?" She asked, hands squeezing at the stone as she thought to her own family.  She barely remembered much. She new life was terrible.. and her parents only cared about themselves.. the damned war...

Her brother has been beaten like the Duke had. And with Zander gone.. was she seeking him out in Valen?

The Duke shook his head, leaning against the windowsill as he responded with an exhale. "I have a mother, but I haven't seen her since taking on the role of Duke. She was... is... obsessive. Father keeps her locked indoors, away from the rest of the world. His 'beloved jewel'."

There was a hint of resentment in his voice as he spoke, but Valen didn't pursue it. Instead, he thought back on the many nights his mother coddled him to the point of suffocation; the many days she would dress him in gowns and womanly garbs, and parade him about the house like a life-sized doll. The sickness in his blood hit felt after eating her meals, unable to disobey her— too far indoctrinated to do so. It was no wonder his father looked down on him. He couldn't help but wonder what his life would've been like if he had never been forcibly separated from her.

"A sadistic father and a mad mother. Both of whom stand so far above the duchy's commonwealth that no one would question either's actions. I... suppose you could say I have no true family. Perhaps I never did. I was always either someone's toy, or someone's meal ticket."

She could relate to that.. the obsession. She has seen it, hung with paranoia on how her parents had treated Zander.

"I suppose we can't choose who we're born to," she replied softly. She grew quiet again, thoughtful before crawling up onto the tall window's ledge and peered out into the night with no fear.

"Do you really want to hear the silence?" She asked, not looking towards him. No.. her eyes were set upon the distance. 

Valen lowered his gaze, a sorrowful look in his eyes as his fingers uncomfortably gripping into the painted window as he thought on her words. You truly couldn't choose who you were born to; or the consequences of your birth. You could only choose how you dealt with both.

He thought over her other question as well, but couldn't come up with an answer. Not an honest one. The pain that had enveloped his senses had begun to subside at long last, and his mind was beginning to clear. And yet, in that clarity came the self-same doubt and weakness that had plagued him all of his life. Not knowing what the right thing to do was- not being confident enough to speak for what he believed in.

He hated that part of himself with every fiber of his being... and yet that was just who he was. What the world had shaped him into, and what he'd allowed the world to shape him into.

"...I'm tired. Very, very tired." He wasn't talking about sleep, though even that weighed on his mind now. "There's... no way out. Of any of this. I know there's only one way forward for me... And yet... I'm scared." A smile formed on Valen's lips once more as he looked over at the young woman who'd climbed atop the windowsill. "I'm scared of... disappearing. Never knowing what it meant to be happy, or even to reach for it. So I... can't. Pathetic, I know."

Vaelyn simply stood over him on the sill, the breeze calming and cool. She said nothing, again letting that familiar silence settle between them.

"Take my hand," She said softly, offering a hand down to him.

Wearily, Valen looked up at the hand extended to him. It never actually dawned on him that he was still speaking with a spy... of dubious origin and intent. Only now that she'd addressed him directly did he start to wonder who or what the person standing above him actually was— and what their purpose here had been in the first place.

And yet, he was still well enough out of his mind from the pain that he could not question it if he wanted to. Not before another dull surge of suffering would take him.

Wordlessly, he reached up— hesitant, but mostly due to the pain he felt in his arm as he did so. She could've been planning to hurt or harm him in some way— but Valen didn't particularly care at the moment. He'd poured his heart out, or what was left of it, to this woman— he was well and truly hollow already. As he grasped her hand, he could only think to himself that no matter what happened next, the world would move on— with or without him. He had done all that he could.

She helped him to the sill, the pair standing on the ledge together, wind rustling their hair.  The wind really did feel nice, and tasted like the sweet manicured gardens below.

She looked at the man before her, who looked in pain, beaten and beyond exhaustion. 

"Here's a taste of silence," She Whispered, squeezing his hand gently as she closed her eyes and focused.

Then there was nothing. 

The world continued to flow around them, winds without sounds and the light fluttering feeling of their hairs dancing upon skin. Even the trees still danced without their rustling of leaves. 

She opened her eyes to look at him.

It was pure, saturated silence- and for it- all other senses seemed to alight.

Valen could not have braced himself in any way for what he was about to experience. Nothing, not even the traumatizing attempt on his life came close. His eyes focused on the woman before him as she spoke, but then widened as she set into action her gift.

The world... went silent.

He could feel the wind blowing against his neck, but he couldn't hear it. He could see the shifting locks of the woman's hair before him as breeze caressed their faces, yet he even that caress was silent. It was as if he'd become lost in a singular moment... and yet time pressed on all the same.

Even the doubts that plagued his mind... silenced.

His eyes slowly turned to take in the night once more, under a new light. The moon seemed... brighter, crisper than he'd ever known. The swaying trees... every leaf in the wind, every blade of grass shifting to a tune of its own. Even the pain that enveloped him was likened to an intense warmth in the moment.

"...You're a mage," He stated almost absentmindedly, looking back into the eyes of the woman before him. His word were deafened by her spell, however— and perhaps that was for the best. It needed not be said.

She continued to look into his eyes for a spell, even long after he spoke the unheard words. Then her gazed dropped, as did the silence, and the sounds of the night swelled around them, the hissing of crickets and the symphony of nightbirds. Even the winds seemed a little louder.

"I should go," she said softly, returning her gaze back into his room.

Before she got caught there again.

"I—"

Valen shivered as his senses were once more righted; the silence he'd so suddenly been introduced to taken away, as if an echo of peace had come and gone. And indeed, the world felt much louder for it... unbearably so. The once gentle breeze seemed to scoff at him for so quickly being swept off his feet by a momentary respite; the swaying branches of elder trees rattling almost like hollow bones, re-instilling a sense of loneliness within him.

He could hear his voice again. His self doubts. He could properly realize now how much he hated both, having been separate from them for a single moment.

His gaze downcast, he did not argue with the woman. He couldn't. They were indeed from two different worlds, and he could not find it within himself to be so selfish as to ask her to further blend her own with his— not as a Connlaothian, and not as the Duke of Ardal. Such was the burden of his fate.

"...Thank you," Was all he could manage.

She fetched something from a pocket- stuffing a roll of bandages into his hands. 

"Wear these every night. Tightly.." she frowned, staring at his hands. "It will hurt, but it'll help the bruises heal more quickly. "

She continued to stare , her own eyes downcast. 

"And eat oranges. The orange fruit from the south. " she blushed. He likely knew what oranges were. 

"They too, help your wounds heal more quickly "

It was strange.

For a moment's time, after having the bandages pushed into his empty hands, Valen was silent; his gaze blank. Despite clearly hearing the instructions given to him, he simply stared down at the spot where the roll of cloth sat, as if confused beyond comprehension.

Perhaps the spy might assume him arrogant, or dismissive of his actions— or lack thereof— in that moment, but no, it was plain truth— he was simply confused.

This was... a kindness. A blunt, unassuming kindness no less, seemingly not born of obligation or deference to his position. She was helping him... but she had no reason to— none that he could discern. His next question, then came as no surprise, at least to himself.

"...Why are you...?" He began, though he hesitated halfway through, afraid of the answer. The truth was that he both cared and didn't care why she would help him— his heart twisted at the thought that someone would do anything for him without expecting something in return, as if such a thing were nigh impossible. And yet...

She tensed at his words, grimacing. What was she doing? Maybe Fueno was right...

What was she supposed to say to him? He was a Duke. He may as well be a God. But as she stood there, uncertain what to feel or say...

She simply decided not to say anything at all.

Her hand touched lightly to his arm again and the sudden quiet blanketed them both.  And she just held his arm, keeping the silence blooming between them.
.before she slipped away....
stepping off the sill and to the ground- the silence still carrying around her, around them before she paused before a servant's door.

The hesitation was palpable, silence clinging yet clear.

Then sound came back in a rush, like a wave, and she stood a moment, heart pounding as she listened for sound on the other side. Then.. when she felt it was safe enough to pass, Vaelyn disappeared inside.

Ah.

There it was again— the silence. Even as Valen flinched against her touch— her fingers pressing against bruised skin beneath noble robes— he didn't pull away. He couldn't. The tranquility washed over him like echoes— like cold waves on his skin, through his hair, across his mind. She didn't respond... or perhaps she did, and he couldn't hear her. In truth, as Valen allowed the calm to take him for a while longer, he came to the conclusion that perhaps it didn't matter why she was helping him.

Before long, she let go— and as her presence left his side, so too did his peace of mind. The pain was evident on his face, but he held back from so much as voicing his weakness.

He held his tongue, and watched as she drifted out of his range, and once her presence had disappeared entirely from the room, Valen collapsed— onto his bed this time, thankfully. He lacked the strength to stand any longer; the day having taking its fullest toll on him. It would begin again tomorrow; perhaps worse than today. He could only hold onto the little moment of peace he'd been granted for the time he had left, before it was taken away from him again.