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Post by Celvi Gray on Mar 30, 2011 13:33:12 GMT -7
 Celvi’s cheeks were glowing and her breath was coming faster than usual as she stepped into the ball room again. She hoped if anyone noticed they would think the blush in her cheeks came from the cold outside, or from hasting herself back into the room. What she had been doing outside would have to remain a secret forever, or both her and Chase would be doomed. Though she could not help feeling like floating over the polished wooden floor as she made her way through the dancing and chatting crowd. Chase would join the feast a few moments later, they had agreed on that, to not arouse unwelcome attention. No one could know…
Taking deep and levelled breaths, Celvi tried to focus again on the present. This was a ball. Princess Christabel’s birthday feast. Maybe she should join the crowd of gossipping ladies-in waiting again? Wait for someone to maybe ask her to dance until the stroke of midnight? Then the masks would come off, the Queen would hold a little speech and maybe announce her daughter’s ominous birthday present in front of all to make it more glorious. Whatever Bell would be getting… Celvi hardly could care less, even though her relationship to the princess had considerably blossomed and improved ever since she had come back from Mar’vol. Getting taken hostage in place of the other could apparently do wonders to almost everything, even letting two girls as different as day and night get along. It had been a rash decision, but it had been born out of a certain sense of honor. It had been the only thing to do in Celvi’s eyes – she could not very well stand by and watch her princess being taken captive!
An honorable deed… somehow this struck a chord within Celvi, as she watched the mass of masks slip by her visual field. Honorable deeds and masks… that really rang a bell… with whom had she been talking about honor…and how had masks been involved in that…?
The solution came to her in a rush and Celvi nearly slapped herself for being so slow. The Grand Duke! Of course… that seemed so long ago now, even if it was only a few weeks. Then again, everything before Mar’vol seemed long ago…What would he think of her now? Any better? And why did she care what she would think of him anyway?
Hmm… the two of them had a score to settle still. A bet. Yes, now she remembered the details. She had challenged him she would be able to tell him apart from everyone else by his sheer arrogance, whatever mask or different attire he had used to disguise himself.
Now that she saw the sheer mass of people, actually winning this bet seemed ridiculous. And she was running out of time. But if anything, Celvi was stubborn. She would use the time left and try to find him. She just needed so scan the crowd carefully.
Outfit: here
Muse song: here |
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Post by Grand Duke Alexander Redwood on Apr 1, 2011 10:01:35 GMT -7
The night was a whirlwind of music and masks, a glittering array of the finest Lamora had to offer. The grand duke couldn�t help a grin as he surveyed the festivities from an alcove, secure in his anonymity. Morris, the god of the hunt, was a popular costume choice. His aunt had protested his decision, of course. �It�s a very important night,� she�d said. Yes, of course, for Christabel, he�d thought, suppressing an eye roll. Ultimately, however, she�d agreed. After all, when had he ever questioned her majesty before?
Perhaps the finery of his costume might provide a clue to a discerning eye, but everyone had pulled out their very best for the ball, and Alex thought he blended in rather well. The soft white velvet of his doublet and trousers, tucked into tall brown boots, accentuated his tanner complexion, while the deep blue of his hooded capelet was perfect for concealing his blond hair. His mask, lacquered white, depicted an arctic fox. Perhaps it wasn�t the cleverest costume, but the point of a masque (for Alex, at least), wasn�t to stand out but to blend in. Tonight he wasn�t the grand duke, with all the duties that entailed, but rather a member of the court.
Having finished his glass of ice wine, Alex handed the goblet off to a servant. He glanced toward the dais at the far end of the hall, the queen holding court with her usual regal flair. A man, barely more than a teenager, was speaking to her. Alex smirked a little, wondering if it was that messenger boy the rumors said she took to her bed most nights. He respected his aunt, naturally, but sometimes she seemed a little obsessed with regaining her lost youth. Perhaps that was why she allowed Christabel to run so wild, putting herself in harms way.
Speaking of� he looked around for his royal cousin. It was more difficult than usual tonight to spot her, given that many costumes included a wig of golden hair. Ah, well. At least he knew her to be here somewhere. It was her birthday, after all, and it was rumored her birthday present was going to be particularly spectacular this year. Thinking of his cousin allowed a certain repressed thought to emerge� Lady Celvi. He�d looked for her throughout the night as he danced and drank, but he had yet to find a girl with that flash of spirit and intensity in her eyes.
He looked up at the clock, a grand confection of engineering. Only a few minutes until midnight. He would win this bet, he was certain of it. Alex grinned and allowed himself to be drawn into the dancing, switching from partner to beautiful partner in the pattern of the dance. Now if only he could spot her without her realizing it was him�
Flashes of scarlet, blue, white, and green whirled together as they danced faster and faster. Heady from the freedom of his mask and perhaps a bit from the wine, Alex drew in others to join the dance as they twirled around madly. If only this could go on forever... |
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Post by Celvi Gray on Apr 2, 2011 4:15:23 GMT -7
Midnight was drawing in close, and still no sign of the Grand Duke, or rather none that Celvi would be able to decipher. Hmm… maybe she should start to work with a distinct plan? He had no doubt tried to disguise his blond hair, to make it more difficult, so she could discount all those who had tried to be original, putting on blond wigs. But then… would he be wearing a wig of sorts as well, or would he hide his hair under a hood? Now that she looked about, she saw many men disguised as Morris, the God of the huntsmen, with masks more or less depicting the artic fox. Now… that would be something he could do, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he just mentioned he would have liked to become one of Morris’ huntsmen once had he not been who he was? That had been during their long and fierce argument in the library, where both had revealed more of themselves than they had actually wanted. This had also been the place where this silly bet had been agreed on.
Oh, how sure she had been to spot him at once! But clearly Celvi had underestimated the sheer mass of people. It was not like not recognizing him when he was directly in front of her, it was all about actually coming so far! If two people wanted to avoid each other, this night seemed the perfect opportunity.
There was only one thing she hadn’t tried yet, and as the seconds trickled by, bringing the fateful hour closer and closer, Celvi knew she could not waste anymore time. So she started to mingle with the dancers, taking up the place of a giggling lady who had had clearyl too much ice wine and therefore had been more staggering than dancing until she decided to give it up.
Examining every dancing partner that came her way with the pattern of the old courteous line dance, Celvi felt slight panic rise up in her chest. No Grand Duke! Perhaps he wasn’t even dancing, maybe he had spotted her from the beginning and was now hiding away in some dark alchove watching the hands of time move irrevocably forward, keeping an eye on her, so he could approach her right when midnight stroke?
The shame of it all! She still remembered his wicked grin when they had agreed on a ‘favor’ as a prize, and knowing his reputation, Celvi was almost sure what he would ask of her. That would mean all her fights had been pointless! Because if anyone saw how he… she didn’t even want to think the word… if anyone saw, they would jump to the worst and falsest conclusion ever – and probably Alexander Redwood knew this very well.
Hopelessly her eyes had been scanning the line of dancers, until they fell on someone that made her stir. It was another huntsman, face concealed by a mask and hood hiding his hair, so she could not be sure at all, but there was something about him… in the way he moved… lissom as a cat, it showed the experienced fighter. His back was held very stiff and his head high above anyone else, while his eyes seemed to dart around… Only one pair was seperating them now… and the seconds trickled by… he was diagonally opposite… Celvi was all but sure… it had to be him… he took up her hand and she met his gaze… dark brown eyes, almost black!
“Grand Duke!” Her voice chimed in RIGHT with the first stroke of midnight, sending her wincing. Failure... or victory?
Outfit: www.polyvore.com/masquerade/set?id=25619460here
Muse song: here
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Post by Grand Duke Alexander Redwood on Apr 2, 2011 15:15:13 GMT -7
Every dancing partner whose hand he clasped smiled at him without knowing he was the grand duke. When you had such a position of power, it was hard to know what treatment was genuine and what was a result of his rank. Tonight, though, Alex savored every smile and appreciative look, knowing they were meant for him alone. His eyes looked at every partner for a trace of that stubborn girl he�d met in the library week ago. The dance was a fast one, its movements full of twirling and frequent partner changes. He danced with a woman in scarlet, then one in emerald, neither of them Celvi. A blonde � not his cousin and therefore sporting a wig � came next. He couldn�t repress a slight sneer at her pretension.
His dark eyes glanced up at the clock as they changed partners again. The clock�s hand grasped midnight� He looked down at his partner as the stroke of midnight chimed throughout the great hall, a victorious smile on his lips, only to realize with a start that the woman whose hand he clasped was hers! She exclaimed recognition, but a moment too late (in his reckoning). He hoped no one else had heard her blow his cover; he wanted to savor this all too rare anonymity the entire night, if he possibly could. �Too late,� he said as the chimes continued to toll the hour. �But terribly, terribly close.�
With the clock�s chimes the music had stopped. It took a bit for Alex to realize the entire court had hushed and turned toward the royal dais, so caught up in the moment of triumph was he. Looking in the same direction, he saw the queen had risen. �Subjects of Lamora,� she said, gazing out over the multitude. �Tonight my daughter and your future sovereign reaches her majority. Soon I will present her with a gift I trust she will find� pleasurable.� Her majesty smiled to herself. �But first there is a matter of great importance to the kingdom I am relieved to have finally settled.�
Alex frowned a little. Was there to be peace with Mar�vol at last? Hardly; he would have heard it from the queen�s lips in private first. For all his youth, the grand duke was one of the queen�s primary military advisors. He listened as she continued, curious.
�His grace, the grand duke, and my dearest nephew, is to wed Lady Celvi Gray.�
The bottom dropped out his stomach as the court applauded dutifully. If he�d bothered to look around, he would have seen the crestfallen look on many of the young ladies around him, but his gaze hadn�t moved from the queen smiling her pleased, smug smile at the front of the hall. In fact, his hand still clasped Celvi�s in the final movement of the dance, frozen in horror at the sudden turn his life had taken. |
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Post by Celvi Gray on Apr 3, 2011 10:35:56 GMT -7
She saw his grin, saw it reaching his eyes and knew he thought he had won instead of her. Sweet Goddess, a draw! That was possibly even a worse outcome than losing! They could argue about this the whole night to come, and knowing them both, equally unable to lose and too stubborn to grant a victory to each other just because there was this constant annoyance and animosity there, they would. Yes, they would bicker over this all night. Runnori, spare me this ridiculous banter! The Grand Duke just HAD to see it was her who had won!
“Not too late, right on time I say”, she hissed at him, but was stopped from further arguing her case when their souvereign, Queen Artemisia of Lamora, started to speak.
For the first few seconds Celvi was set on just letting the sermon rush by her ears. She was by no means interested in what Bell would be given for her birthday, She had far more important things on her mind. For one, she had just spotted Chase, who was standing close by the queen. That was his usual place, as she liked to talk with him, but it still made Celvi slightly uneasy. The notion almost sent her laughing. Was she now behaving like a jealous broad? Now that was something. Even if she had any claim on Chase, it was not like she could ever voice it. And against the queen at that – it was a laugh. The matter was a delicate one though, and Celvi had not yet dared to ask Chase about his concrete relationship with Artemisia. If the rumors were true… would that make any difference to her? Perhaps not in her feelings towards Chase, but she could not help to feel slightly repelled at the thought itself. Then again… it was not like Chase would have any choice…
Then there was this perpetual issue that seemed to arouse whenever she clashed with Grankd Duke Redwood. How could she best go about denying him the redemption of this bet, should he insist on his victory? Perhaps it might be best if she used the queen’s speech to rouse her defenses, so she had them ready once they could argue again. And argue they would, there was no doubt of it. Celvi was no sore loser, had she not recognized him well after midnight, or had he approached her with her name first, then she would have stepped down and accepted the inevitable. But this… this was too close! There was room to argue, and Celvi would use that for all it was worth.
But then Queen Artemisia spoke something that found its way through Celvi’s absent mind and reached suddenly attentive ears. Something more important than Bell’s birthday gift? That she lived to see the day!
What would it be? Peace with Mar’vol? Nah, after what had happened with Bell’s near-abduction that seemed to be far from possible…
Then she heard it.
It felt like a giant fist was colliding with her midsection, and it was all Celvi could do to not double over and gasp with pain. If she ever had needed the countless lessons on courtenance hammered into her by Dagmara, it was now. It practically was the only thing that kept her from running. Celvi could not move, she could not even yank her hand from the Grand Duke’s – from her FIANCÉ’s – where it was still held from the dance they had just begun. How come the circumventing of a stupid bet had seemed the worst of her problems just a second ago?
Numbly, she heard the Queen speak again. “I would like to congratulate them personally, so I wish them to come up to the dais, wherever they are. This truly is the downside of this wonderful masquerade” She heard a few polite chuckles coming from the crowd. Move… she had to move. Feeling all eyes on her as she put one foot forward, Celvi slowly, numbly made her way towards the Queen, not even caring to look if the Grand Duke was following. It was like walking to her own excecution. It surely felt that way. |
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Post by Grand Duke Alexander Redwood on Apr 10, 2011 20:54:50 GMT -7
Alex�s first reaction, after the initial shock wore off, was anger. How dare the queen arrange a marriage for him without even consulting him! She trusted his military acumen, but not his wits when choosing which woman to wed? It was scarcely to be believed, and yet, from the applause surging around his frozen body, truly happening. Did she think him no more than a boy, too young to make such a decision on his own? He was twenty-five years old, and a proven warrior � didn�t that count for something? It was politics � it had to be. The very thing the grand duke despised about court and ignored at every opportunity had brought about his fate without even acknowledging him as anything but a title to be handed out to the highest or most advantageous bidder.
And who was Lady Celvi Gray, really? An annoying girl who�d had some involvement in the whole dreadful kidnapping affair that had very nearly seen Lamora capitulate to the enemy, if their plans had gone right. One of his cousin�s ladies, outspoken and passionate about things she scarcely understood. And he was to marry her? Whose idea, he wondered, had hatched this terrible plot?
As these thoughts raced through his head like so many hares being chased through the snow, Alex realized his partner � Celvi � had begun to make her way to the dais where the queen, that smug, horrible aunt of his, waited to present the couple. A mad thought ran through his head: just stay where he was and no one would know that he, of all the masked gods of the hunt, was the grand duke. But no, he couldn�t. Alex could see his father�s sour expression at even the thought of derelicting his duty to the crown. Angry as he was, a grand duke had obligations to the queen. Marrying as she willed was explicitly one of them. He�d always thought it would be he presenting a prospective bride to the queen, seeking her approval, rather than this topsy-turvy turn of the events. As far as the queen knew, Celvi and Alex hadn�t even met before being together on the dais tonight.
The dais� Alex gritted his teeth in a fake grin, finally following the path Celvi had carved through the glittering throng. To anyone looking him, he appeared entirely complicit, even commanding in this announcement. For all the court knew, he had picked Celvi out and asked the queen for her permission, knowing full well that their engagement was to be announced tonight.
For all the court knew� who else knew? Alex suddenly had difficulty maintaining his arrogant smile as another wave of rage washed over him. Of course! She knew. Somehow Lady Celvi had used her connections at court to wrangle him for herself. Whether it was Bell or some highly ranked family member, he knew not, but everyone knew the heights ladies would go to in order to secure an advantageous match for themselves. Perhaps Lady Celvi�s apparent bravery in the face of kidnapping had actually been a ploy to raise her position in the eyes of the queen, snagging her the most advantageous match a Lamoran maiden could possibly make! The sly minx.
He smirked at the lady in question as he ascended the dais behind her. Oh, she thought he was easily played? She would have a reckoning for certain. No one toyed with the grand duke and got away with it for long. Alex grabbed her hand, flashing the crowd a brilliant smile that didn�t quite reach his eyes.
The queen smiled at the pair, her eyes shrewd behind her own mask. She�d known he would bow to public pressure, while in private he might have protested the betrothal. The old biddy always gets her way, Alex thought bitterly. Would that I were king� A silly thought, but in this moment he couldn�t help but think it.
�Congratulations, my dears,� the queen said, taking them each by their free hands. Alex resisted the urge to jerk his away, but he was certain his aunt could feel the tension in his reluctant grasp. Not that she cared. She�d gotten her way, after all. �I�ll be announcing Bell�s gift in a little while, but why don�t you go dance for a spell first?�
�Of course,� Alex replied stiffly. He didn�t care if his smile looked forced. Tightening his grip on Celvi�s hand � perhaps a bit too hard, given his current state of mind � he led her off the dais. Instead of the dance floor, however, he pulled her through one of the velvet curtains out onto a terrace. �Are you satisfied?� he spat, dropping her hand like it was made of fire now that they were alone.
((OOC: sorry it's terribly long. let me know if you want me to change the end part at all - I was just trying to get them out of the ballroom)) |
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Post by Chase Cantwell on May 22, 2011 13:16:12 GMT -7
Chase stood boredly by the side of the Queen, mindlessly listening to her babble about how wonderful the ball was going and how lovely everyone looked and so on and so forth: all the normal practiced speech of the court. His uninterested gaze flicked out toward the wash of masked faces that spun with the beat of the sweet music; quietly searching for the sweet face belonging to Celvi to bring ease to his nerves.
His heart was still pounding loudly in his chest from the sacred moment they shared in the haven of the night, only witnessed by the gaze of the stars that glowed brightly across the crisp night sky. Oh how sweet that moment lay in his memory and in his heart, giving a fresh fuel to the love he felt for the blessed girl he dared to fancy.
Sighing softly, he half focused on what words left the queen�s lips as someone mentioned it was nearing midnight. He could honestly say he didn�t care what the princess got for her birthday; it was probably some heirloom trinket from the Queen�s own collection of jewelry or one she had one of the smiths craft just for her. He silently debated to himself on which of the two options it could be. He chewed over the conflict, finding the dull subject entertaining for brief moment and a much-needed distraction from worrying over Celvi.
With the chiming of the clock, he shifted a half step closer toward the matriarch, his ears tuning into what words left her mouth. �Something more important than her daughter� he questioned silently, his brows furrowing with thought as he began to sort through past conversations with the queen, trying to remember if she had mentioned anything to him of the sort. Nothing was coming to mind when the queen concluded his search with words that pierced his chest like daggers frozen over with death itself.
He gasped like a fish out of water, his eyes frantically searching the Queen�s face for a sign that this was all a black natured joke. The realization that there was no humor in her face brought a chill to Chase�s body as he stood rigidly by, his hands clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white as the bone beneath his taunt skin tried to break free.
�How dare she give away his Celvi to a pompous, ungratfeul slug! He doesn�t deserve her! He�s a bloody fool with an ego bigger than his head� he raved to himself, casting his gaze downward to his boots, not wanting to meet anyone�s gaze as he fought to compose himself in a dignified manner. �Is it not worth protesting� a small voice whispered his mind, nearly breaking the wall Chase and hastily thrown up to prevent any unneeded opinions of a servant boy escaping into the public�s ear. He bit hard onto the inside of his cheek, wishing the physical pain would dull the emotional pain the coursed his body in clashing waves.
As if to add salt to the wound, the Queen asked the new engaged pair to ascend to the dais, so she could congratulate them in a more personal action. Chase fought down the urge to flee and throw himself in the river to an icy death as Celvi came closer, led by the beast whom was grinning to the crowd, basking in the court�s applause. He wanted puke or run the Grand Duke through with a sword, either would suffice as he readied another wall to keep his emotions at bay. Clamping harder on the inside of his cheek, Chase stood dutifully behind his Sovereign, his face blank of any betraying emotions as she exchanged a few meaningless words to the Grand Duke and his bride to be.
He kept his gaze trained on a spot on the far wall, keep his gaze as far away from Celvi�s as possible. It would hurt to much to look at her, and he couldn�t risk having his emotions spill out on the floor for all to see. Shutting out the outer lying stimuli of the room, he missed the couple leaving the dais and nearly didn�t respond to the Queen�s questions until she placed a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention.
�Lost to your mind again, Chase� she murmured sweetly, bringing a nod and forced smile to his lips. �But don�t you agree that they will make such a precious pair� she inquired, bringing another nod in repsonse.
{sorry for the extreme bashing on Alex, Chase is just a little upset  } |
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Post by Celvi Gray on May 24, 2011 9:47:22 GMT -7
Only as she was half way up the dais, Celvi realised with another sickening jolt that she was not only walking towards the queen. Chase was up there too! She was practically walking towards him, moving close to him after what had just been released over both their heads. No… she couldn’t do it. Her step faltered the tiniest bit, until the marionette part of her being urged her on again, simply put one foot before the other. But she still couldn’t face Chase… not after what had just passed between them mere minutes ago…it was too cruel. Runnori apparently had seen fit to raise her to the face of the stars only to strike her down again next, making her crawling on the ground, more than ever willing to beg for mercy. How could she ever have been so naïve to believe that the Goddess pale gentle face was shining down on their love in approval? Now she had shown Celvi her place in all brutality. Wherever it was, it was not at Chase’s side.
Her gaze struggled to avoid Chase’s at all cost as she now took the final steps towards the Queen, lowering herself in the obligatory reverence. But as he stood so close to Artemisia that proved to be almost impossible. Some part of him she always saw however she turned her head, and she could just not pretend it wasn’t him. Sharp claws were now tearing at her mask of composure, at the wall she had always put up when walking around nobles, her own kind. This wall had been hardened by years of experience but right now it felt feeble, leaky, not fit to stand any further siege. And besieged it was, constantly, from the outside and from the inside of her own mind. All her illusions seemed ground to dust, forever out of her reach what had seemed so close just a moment before. She was betrothed now, soon to be married to… no, the thought almost made her sick. A married woman could even less think of keeping up a… relationship of any kind to any other man. And Chase in particular, a messenger. For this marriage, she suddenly realised, raised her from a mere lady to a duchess! Higher up in society, but further away from Chase. To think that she might never be able to see in these eyes full of honest, unmasked love again, made it so hard not to burst into tears right here and there.
Celvi hardly did feel the warmth of the Queen’s hand that now took her own hand up, in what was probably supposed to be a welcoming and congratulating gesture. She should feel honored, as she had never been allowed to come so close to Queen Artemisia before, but actually she couldn’t care less. To her, this was not the hand of a living woman, but an iron clasp that shackled her to the man next to her. She wanted to break free, but she couldn’t. Running now would not help. She had no chance of escape, she had no choice.
The queen’s words rushed by her ear unnoticed, undeciphered, she couldn’t do anything else right now than fight against the tears and turn them into a hopefully pleased smile. If only not to disgrace herself. No, she would not give HIM that satisfaction! Apparently that had been all his idea, right? This was her punishment for resisting him. Now she could not escape his advances, though she never would have dreamt of him going that far. After all, he hated her, right? Just like she hated him!
He pulled her from the dais, but not back on the dancefloor, but into one of the little alchoves lining the ball room. Celvi’s heart missed a beat. What did he want? Would he claim the redemption of their bet now, along with some other newly bestowed claims on her? But Alexander Redwood did nothing of that sort, his fierce rejection and accusation made her blink. Suddenly nothing made sense anymore. Was he really assuming, SHE had…
The walls of composure were tumbling down irrevocably now, all her piled up shock, hurt and confusion broke through, manifesting in the words she now hurled at him with an equally acide voice. “Am I content?! Aren’t you??!! You think I planned this?! To get you?!” She snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself!” |
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Post by Grand Duke Alexander Redwood on May 26, 2011 21:09:56 GMT -7
The grand duke snorted at her denial. �Flattery? Everyone knows I�m the most eligible bachelor in the whole kingdom � or was, up until a few minutes ago. And that�s not conceit, it�s a fact.� He shook his head, folding his arms stubbornly and glaring at Celvi with pure venom. �I don�t know if I�m angrier with you or the queen,� Alex said flatly. This last sentence was a slip from his usual decorum regarding mentions of her majesty. As her nephew, he was of course her greatest supporter. In public, at least. He�d never voiced his disapproval aloud before. Though he still wore his mask, pushed up on his forehead now, a mask of another kind had slipped for a moment without him noticing.
The cold outside on the terrace cleared his head a little, enough for him to sort out his feelings and suspicions into words. �You say there was no plan, and I call you a liar, and I�ll tell you why. Before my cousin�s border mishap, you were a nobody at court.� He began to pace back and forth as he went on. �A lady-in-waiting to my cousin, the heir, it�s true, but that�s more a grab for recognition than a position of power. And you got yourself recognized, all right. I�d wonder even if you had a hand in the kidnapping plan to begin with, except that, for all your faults and connivance, you don�t seem like a traitor to Lamora. Otherwise I�d cut your head off myself.� He said this last matter-of-factly.
�But you saw your chance. Sacrifice yourself in place of my cousin and be lauded upon your eventual ransom. After all, your father is in the army and you knew that someone would put up the money for your return. The risk was high, but the potential reward even higher. I wonder, when her majesty asked what you wished for a reward, did you even hesitate before claiming my hand in marriage?� He paused in his back and forth, giving her a disgusted look. �I wonder even if you are interested in matters of military and honor, or if that was just a ploy for my attentions.� Being grand duke at such a young age had inflated his ego, it�s true, but his wariness at flattery and overtures of friendship was well earned. Not a day went by at the palace that one courtier or another didn�t try to curry his favor to get in good with the queen. Some might call him paranoid, but they�d never been grand duke.
Underneath the anger ran a current of bitterness. He�d known before he�d even learned to walk, it seemed, that he had duties that meant his life was not his own. He�d known any potential wife would have to be of noble blood, Lamoran, and subject to the queen�s approval. He�d known he would be the latest in a long line of grand dukes to help the sovereign run the war with Mar�vol and support the monarch even when she was wrong. That�s what family did; it was how dynasties were maintained. Loyalty flowed in his veins, so much that he felt pangs of guilt whenever he thought traitorously. Once he�d dreamt he was king and woken feeling like the worst traitor to the crown. How could his mind even imagine such acts of treason? It did not help that the girl he bedded shortly after made much of dreams being portents of the future. It had only deepened the weight in his chest. And yet, in spite of this guilt, more and more he�d felt a certain bitter resentment of his predestined role in life. And now this? His aunt hadn�t even seen fit to tell him before the public announcement. She treated him like a boy, a plaything like her messenger boy that she could command at will and he, puppet-like, had to obey.
�Don�t bother with your paltry denials,� Alex told her, his eyes sparking with ire. �I know your sort. Courtiers are all the same. I�ll wager your family�s quite pleased you�ve made such a fine match for yourself. I expect they�ll want titles commensurate with their new station in life. They always do.� He raked a hand through his hair in a vicious gesture, knocking off his mask in the process. Absent the covering, his blond hair shone pale in the moonlight, the color it had been in his childhood. �You always do,� he repeated, more resigned than angry this time. There had been a moment in the library weeks ago when he�d thought perhaps she was different, but no. All courtiers were the same. |
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Post by Celvi Gray on Jun 1, 2011 11:57:43 GMT -7
Celvi had known he would be upset, once she had realised this had not been his scheme to think up and that he apperently had been as clueless about this bargain as she was, and so she expected harsh words. But what shocked her was that she couldn’t even get in one word edgewise, that he refused to listen to anything she said. He seemed blinded in his anger and that was oh so typical! Like always, Duke Alexander Redwood saw nothing but himself! He had become caught up in this idée fixe that apparently everyone wanted him and sought his favor behind his back and in treacherous attempts if they couldn’t gain it openly. Once or twice the lady opened her mouth to speak but every try was immediately smothered by an anewed outburst of the boiling man before her. Like a whole battaillon of archers he fired arrow after arrow at her, and they all hit home and hurt the girl where it hurt most, each word spoken in so much disgust was like a slap in her face.
But beneath the hurt her own anger started to simmer and then to boil. How DARE he be so blind! How dare he shift the blame all on her! Hadn’t she proven enough in their one fateful encounter that she did want nothing less than his hand in marriage or any favor at all? Hadn’t she proven enough that his sheer presence was an insult for all her beliefs?! And then he even accused her of setting this horrible event that had sent her into Mar’vol as a prisoner, a ransom even, on wrong pretexts up to yet again gain his favor, rise up in court. This hit as the worst blow ever, sending her gasping and actually stumbling one step backwards. How DARE he?! He had fought the southern scum himself and yet he still believed that someone would happily give himself into their filthy, brutal hands?! She had done it for her princess, for her country even and he accused her of base motives?! Did he even have the slightest idea what he was talking about? No, probably not!
And then, to sum it all up, once again he lumped her together with all those courtiers she depised so much, those who really would stop at nothing to rise up one step on the ladder that was called status. It was too much, simply too much to bear! His arrogance and self-delusion was infuriating beyond words, for words truly could not express the raging war inside Celvi’s heart. She had been betrayed in the meanest way possible, and instead of solace or understanding she was greeted with contempt and disdain! They both had been puppets maneuvred by a foreign force, but he made her the pupeteer instead of the fellow victim!
A short but thick silence followed when the duke finally seemed out of insults, and for a moment Celvi just glared, her fey eyes showing disbelief and rancor alike.
“Are you finished?” she asked then, her voice quivering with agitation. “Don’t worry I will not grace your outrageous insults with any more of my breath, for there is only one answer to this all.”
And before her courage fuelled by too much bitterness and anger could leave her, she raised her right hand and slapped him across the face, hard, so hard her fingers tingled and stung from the impact.
“Now you can have me arrested for High Treason, and believe me, I’ll gladly walk the way to the gallows myself.” She stated with a now almost lifeless voice . “I thought I’d escaped hell when coming back from Mar’vol, but apparently hell stayed at my heels. Does that tell you enough of my ‘complicity’ in this?” |
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Post by Grand Duke Alexander Redwood on Jun 6, 2011 19:27:17 GMT -7
Alex had run out of words, and for a moment, the grand duke thought his harague had rendered her quite speechless as well. But he should have known better. Her eyes flashed, her fey eyes he�d once found intriguing. He�d thought that somewhere in those depths he might have found someone with the same kind of disgust for court life that possessed. Ah, the disillusions of youth. A grand duke couldn�t trust anyone except his family and his men, hadn�t his father always said that? Courtiers were faithless, conniving scum, bottomfeeders who sucked at the teat of the crown and kept petty quarrels amongst themselves. How could he have believed for even a moment that Celvi was any different?
And then� she slapped him. The anger in his eyes turned to shock. It wasn�t hard, not compared to the blows he was used to in the practice yards, but it stung with a woman�s fury. The impact left a red handprint on his cold-pale face, lessening as she followed her action with more words. He barely listened to them. She had dared to lay a hand on him? Him, the highest lord in the land, the nephew of the queen and the commander of the finest regiment in the Lamoran army? He was too surprised to be appalled.
He stared at her without hearing. How could someone so beautiful be so awful, so vicious? He had always been popular with women � partly due to his status, he knew, but women had never flocked to his widower father with the craggy face as they did to his golden-haired son. Why did she despise him so? He�d been kind to her in the library, kinder than she deserved, truly, encroaching as she did on his war room and sashaying about like she knew the first thing about honor and warfare. What did she know of sacrifice, loyalty, duty? So she�d had to sew and spin instead of learning archery or the warrior arts. Didn�t she realize how lucky she was, to be able to stay safely behind these walls while men like him rode off to do battle on her behalf?
Anger rushed back with the hearing in his ears. He would like nothing more than to strike her back, to make her realize that one did not slap the Grand Duke Redwood with impunity, but an honorable man did not strike those weaker than himself. And to think, he was to be married to this wretch. Still, he must respond to her insolence. His voice curt with repressed anger, he said, �Do you think it brave to strike a man too honorable to return like violence to someone weaker than he?� His jaw twitched with ire. It was all too much. Was he to come home from every battle to this shrew in his bed? A wife ought to be a comfort to her husband. He feared he would know only irritation and vexation at her hands.
He sighed, his muscular shoulders sagging a little under his finery, and turned away. Alex rubbed at the cheek where she�d struck him. He felt� weary of the world, and him only twenty-five. He had seen too much sorrow on the battlefields, too much death and blood and misery. It seemed petty to be upset with a girl someone (his aunt, the girl herself or a relative of hers) had conspired to marry him off to. He was only a pawn in this great game of his aunt and the king of Mar�vol. A powerful pawn � a knight or a rook � but subject to the will of the queen nonetheless. Did it really matter who he was to wed? There was not a woman in Lamora whose love would not be predicated on his position rather than his personality. He gazed up at the moon. �Morris rides tonight,� he remarked, apropos of nothing but the dark sky and glittering stars. |
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Post by Celvi Gray on Jun 7, 2011 6:45:47 GMT -7
[/img][/center] For a moment Celvi felt almost content, almost at ease with the cruel way Runnori had shown her her place. To see the shock on Alexander Redwood’s face was enough reconciliation and compensation for this short moment in time, but of course it could not last long. At least for a moment he had stopped throwing insults at her, at least for a short time she could actually think of starting to wrap her head around what had just happened. For a few seconds she was actually able to wallow in her own misery. But the satisfaction was soon to be replaced by a sickening feeling of fear. She had done the unthinkable and however brave she had acted, whatever she had thrown in his face about rather wanting to die than being his wife, Celvi still was afraid of the consequences. Not for herself but rather for her family. As her father’s only heir it was her duty to keep the name “Gray” clean of scandals and shame. This was an offer of honor that none of her family had ever been able to reach. She should be proud, and thrive on this possibility. Only that she didn’t want any of this. She wanted to be happy. With Chase, and no one else.
Soon enough the Grand Duke likewise found his speech again, and what he said showed that he had not listened to a word she had said, once again! What was he, deaf?! So caught up in this swelling bubble of pride that he could hear nothing but his own talking?! He had been different once, he had once really listened to what she had said, even had offered to teach her. But these days seemed long gone now, and even if it wasn’t Celvi’s fault at all, he blamed her still.
“If you had listened to ANYTHING I said to you, you would know I did not do this for bravery but to wake you up from your self-induced stupor!” she hurled back at him. “But I guess it’s easier to blame someone you despise anyway than blame someone you hold in high regards. I’ll say it one last time, but if you still won’t believe me then choke on your ignorance for all I care: I. didn’t. have. any. part. in. this. I was played, just like you.”
But another warning bell chimed up in Celvi’s head and this time she couldn’t ignore it. This was too much. She had to get a grip on herself and accept the inevitable. The queen herself had announced the engagement, and her word was law. No one but herself could take it back, and if she did it would mean damnation and disgrace for Celvi and everyone attached to her. She couldn’t take that risk, she had been indoctrinated for too long by her aunt that honor and integrity was everything. So, even though her whole body ached with the effort, her muscles growing rigid by the restraint she put on them, Celvi stood upright, unclenching her fists and forcing her breath to become steady. For a moment the struggle teethered on knife’s edge, but then her education won over her instincts. Now in front of the Grand Duke stood no longer Celvi, the fey, the untamable shrew, but Celvi Gray, lady-in-waiting to her Highness Princess Christabel and loyal subject to her Majesty Queen Artemisia.
“I’m sorry I hit you, Mylord”, she stated, her voice nearly inaudible and lifeless, her eyes not looking at him directly but at some point beside his head. “It won’t happen again, not if I can help it. I will try to hide my contempt and be the dutiful wife you deserve. I will not disgrace your name, nor mine, that I can solemnly swear to you.”
It was also part of Celvi’s breeding that the effort those words cost her hardly showed. Even though tears were burning behind her eyes, even if she felt the urge to turn around and just run for her life until she reached somewhere she could fall on the ground and cry her heart out, her body stayed upright and composed. Still, the complete turn she had taken in just a minute would probably tell her fiancé enough. Her heart was not into this, she had put up another mask again, but she did not do it willingly.
After having said this, she turned towards the dark sky as well, trying to push away memories of how she had stood looking at the starry firmament with Chase just a little while ago. “So he does. And Runnori shows him her face in favor.” It truly was a wonderful night. Only that now its beauty was completely lost to Celvi.
((OMG, I apologize for that length...)) |
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Post by Grand Duke Alexander Redwood on Jun 17, 2011 17:02:39 GMT -7
She was a silly child, really, he knew that, but the words still stung. A stupor, him? Was she a madwoman? He listened, by Runnori he listened, but didn�t she realize that he might have more important things to ponder in this moment than her silly words? He was the grand duke and everyone must bend his ear whether he liked it or no and fill it with their self-serving prattles and blandishments, hoping that he would repeat their names favorably to Her Majesty or favor them with his own power and funds. Of course he�d developed a deaf ear to those at court! They spewed lies and spoke only in service of their own ends. A grand duke could only trust his family and his men to be honest and truthful, to be loyal. Loyalty� it was out of loyalty that he would wed this girl, loyalty to his aunt, queen of Lamora. But loyalty could not force him to like the path that duty had made for him to tread. �Forgive me, but experience has made it impossible for me to trust the word of a courtier,� Alex said sourly.
Did her words have any truth to them? A courtier lied, but even lies had the kernel of truth to them betimes. Perhaps his mind had warped and saw plots where none existed. Perhaps. Even if she hadn�t conspired to the lengths he�d accused her, still, she had to have colluded with Her Majesty for this betrothal to occur. And what Lamoran maiden wouldn�t want to wed him? Even if she�d been the one approached, how could she say nay? Maybe his cousin had been behind this. She probably loved her lady dearly after the sacrifice Celvi had made and wished to reward her. Not that Alex disapproved of the sentiment (if such existed) � he believed in rewarding those who showed great loyalty to him � but his pride rankled at the idea of being thought a prize.
And that was the whole of it, was it not? He had never been seen as simply a man, but always a title with a body to accompany it and duties created for a hollow place at court that he must fill, ill as he might fit in the spot. Of course, he fit the role very well � handsome, good at battle and strategy, loyal and honorable to a fault � but sometimes he wondered how life would have been had he been born a peasant. Would he have been just as good at tilling the soil and mucking out the pigs? Was a man shaped by his birth or his blood?
He couldn�t help but notice that her demeanor changed and wondered what it meant. She lied � even he could tell that much from the way her eyes didn�t quite meet his own � but why, when she had been so fierce a moment earlier? He didn�t understand how she could put aside her anger so easily, unless she�d grown as tired and resigned as he to the whole situation. To be honest, he didn�t understand women at all. They were meant to understand him and his moods, unless they were his royal aunt and cousin, but they were of royal blood and not quite the same as others of their sex.
�The bare minimum, you mean,� Alex said. Why did the gods curse him with the one woman who was not elated to marry him? She would perform her duty, and he his, and they would both live and die miserable, together but alone. The grand duke did not relish the thought. �Forgive me if I�m not terribly enthused by the prospect.� He was tired, tired of fighting and trying and never quite being as happy as a grand duke ought to be. He had power, didn�t he? Women vying for his attention? The only thing that made him happy was the loyalty of his men and even that was soured by the thought of leading them into battle once more. Some would die; some always died. And it was the duty of a grand duke to bear this all and smile, for he was the most powerful man in the realm.
�Does she?� His tone was doubtful. It was hard to find joy in the night now that his future stretched out before him gray with duty and misery. He glanced down at Celvi. Would that she could care for him, even as a friend. His mother had served as solace and helpmeet to his father. Was it so much to ask Runnori for the same or was his a cursed name? �My mother once said that the stars are Runnori�s tears for her fallen children, killed and crippled by the war. Or so my father told me.� His memory of his mother was dim, a halo of blonde hair and a soft voice calling him �Sasha�. �Don�t worry, I�m certain the next battle or the next will take me and you�ll be free of this duty.� His words were harsh and overly bitter and self-pitying, but that was how Alex felt and he saw no reason to hide it from his wife-to-be. |
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Post by Celvi Gray on Jul 14, 2011 6:31:44 GMT -7
[/img][/center] Alexander Redwood probably didn't know it, but calling Celvi a courtier was the worst insult she could think of being assaulted with. In that aspect she was just like her mother, though no one ever had told her of that particular fact. To her, the court was a golden cage to which she was chained to unwilling and only the greatest amount of willpower ans mental strength in general had kept her from breaking instead of bending. She had fit in for the most part, hiding her contempt and even hiding her different mindset from most, but the price she had to pay for it was now visible: She was being lumped together with people she disliked and she had the feeling that nothing in the world would ever change her future husbands view on this aspect. So there it went, her childish dream: marrying for love, finding someone with who she finally could be herself with, without the mask, without the pretenses.
„And as long as your precious 'experience' keeps you from really opening your eyes and take an untainted look at me, I fear trust will be lost forever between us“, she answered, but not spitefully. Just... sad.
She didn't want him, she did want Chase and no one else, but it also hurt to feel so hated... by anyone.
The bare minimum. Yes, indeed. That was what it would come down to in the end. But really, what could he expect? Was he really that much of an idiot to think that every woman would try to give him her best, fawn over him and try to be the perfect wife whereas he could openly show his scorn for her or at least be indifferent? What kind of a twisted view of the world was that?! But apparently this was what he thought if she didn't misinterpret him by a mile – and she highly doubted that.
Had she had more contact with married women around her, Celvi might not be so inexperienced in that matter, might not ask herself so many questions. But she was surrounded mostly by virgins and widows, she could not tell if that was something that simple HAD to be this way: That marriage was nothing but a state affair, not made to make you happy. Wasn't that highly unfair? So much would change after all, her whole life would change and she would not be given anything worthwhile in return? Again the tiny spark of rebellion flamed up inside of Celvi's chest, but she was already too far down on the road of resignation. Fighting it would never change anything, and least of all for the better.
„It seems so“, her voice was almost lifeless with the attempt to keep it level, not to show how she would have liked to scream with frustration. „That makes two of us, I daresay. I'm sorry to have accused you of having any say in this matter, it now is more than evident you would rather give yourself to our enemy than having to marry me.“ It was a statement, nothing more, not even tinted with bitterness to provoke him to lie and tell otherwise. She merely couldn't care less. Things were as they were and the sooner she would accept it the sooner... no, she probably never could make her peace with this situation. That were too high the hopes.
Sighing she looked up at the sky again and asked herself which God now had a good laugh at them, watching those miserable humans wriggle in the net he had cast. Runnori could not be so cruel, right? Here they were, two individuals cursed with the same fate, but instead of this making them pull themselves together and make the best of it, it drove them even farther apart. Oh, glorious times ahead.
Celvi hadn't thought anything could shock her anymore in the state she was in right now, but his words surely did! They made her gasp and retreat a few steps, staring at him as if he had lost his mind.
„No!“ If anything his harsh, self-pitying words had managed to light up her eyes again in that furious fire he probably remembered very well from their previous encounter. „You're lucky I am in no mood to raise my hand again Mylord, for this outrageous remark deserves nothing else! Is that really what you think of me? I might not like you and I definitely never wanted to be chained to you by marriage, but I won't wish you dead! The sheer thought makes me sick! I am not that much caught up in self-pity to wish anyone harm just so I'll be happier.“ The slight emphasize on the 'I' was maybe nearly imperceptible, but it was there. „I wish you a long and prosperous life, Mylord, like I wish it everyone else. Just not maybe at my side of all, but that can't be helped now, can it?“ |
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Post by Grand Duke Alexander Redwood on Aug 4, 2011 21:37:10 GMT -7
Taking an untainted look? How ridiculous such a sentiment sounded in his ears. One couldn’t separate a man or woman from his or her station in life, even as one couldn’t count the stars glittering in the black heavens above them. And Celvi herself certainly didn’t take the time to regard him as a man rather than a grand duke, with all the reponsibilities and priveleges that went with such a lofty title. Trust… How could a man of his rank ever trust anyone except himself? Everyone else was seeking their own gains. Why would Celvi be any different? He'd thought so once… well, that only showed what a fool even Alexander Redwood could be when faced with a beautiful woman. And she was beautiful – of that there could be no doubt. He wished this balcony encounter could be different. It ought to be. Everyone in the great hall certainly thought the grand duke and his betrothed were being romantic outside, concealed by the heavy velvet curtains. He wished they were being as amorous as those inside supposed. For one thing, it would have been a lot warmer. Even a native Lamoran had only so much tolerance for winter's chill.
Would he rather die at Marvollan hands than marry her? No. He had no heir, for one thing. He had a duty to maintain the Redwood line, a duty that, for better or worse, Celvi had been conscripted to aid in. He didn't mislike the prospect of bedding the lady, but he'd never entertained the notion of a less-than-enthusiastic bedmate. It was a blow to his pride and made his doubts, ever concealed deep below the surface, make themselves known again. Had all those women only bedded him for his rank? He sighed.
No one had ever seen Alex get so terribly melancholic before, except for Runnori's priestesses, and they were sworn to secrecy. He had bouts of melancholy, to be sure, but he always bucked up and carried on with his duties. It lurked in the back of his mind that one day he might just curl up and give himself over to the desolation of it all. But he was his father's son. There was always another battle to be fought. A Redwood man found rest only in the end of a sword – or in the arms of his wife, if he were so blessed to have one who loved him. Alex wondered how he had angered the gods so to deserve this fate.
He laughed, a bitter laugh twas true, but a laugh nonetheless. "Gods, look at the pair of us!" Alex said, shaking his head. "Was there ever an unhappier betrothal?" He sighed again, the chill air turning his exhale into a puff of mist. He strode to the edge of the balcony, gripping the freezing marble beneath his hands. He laughed again, his acrid laugh echoing out over the frozen landscape. All below was ice, gleaming cold and glittering white beneath Runnori and her tears hanging in the velvet sky above.
Alex turned, switching hands and leaning against the balustrade, his expression twisted in an acidic grin. "It would be my luck to wed the one maiden in all Lamora that has no interest in my hand," he said, his face half in shadow. "You know, I have envisioned dying a hundred thousand time in battle, but never have I once considered that the lady I am to marry would have no interest in marrying me.' It was a cruel jest of the gods, he thought. And there was nothing he could do about it. Were the match broken to him in private by his aunt, he would have protested, but done in public (and his aunt knew this all too well) he was honor-bound to go through the match.
His self-pity had turned into resignation and a certain bitter humor about the whole matter. Alex raked a hand through his blond hair. "We shall have to go back inside soon," he said. He sounded less than enthused about the prospect. "Are you ready to look happy or shall we wait a while longer?" It was a rather slight attempt to be solicitious of his future bride, but it was all he could bring himself to offer at the moment.
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