pajanyas-arc

[pajanyas-arc]

TODAY'S GONNA BE A HOLIDAY!

[pajanyas-arc]

would love to revive ann since my muse for her lately has been steadily increasing but this blog feels ,,, utterly dormant and i can't help but think that moving to a new fresh blog would be the best decision 🧍‍♀️

[pajanyas-arc]

ann cannot help but pity those that are not able or are unwilling to appreciate the beauty of the arts; too often she sees it all around her, people who only come to these performances to be seen, to be noted as present, to ensure that they do not miss any sliver of scandal or gossip.  she does not dare to assume the lady featherington falls into that category, necessarily, but it is a great shame that her own disinterest in the art means her daughter misses out as well.  music transcends all barriers, after all, and it has a power to strike chords closer to the heart than many would care to admit.

her travels have long since been extensive, eye-wateringly so, and it's something that she is almost embarrassed of, given how out of reach the prospect can be for even the the most moneyed members of well-to-do societies.  "every opera that i've had the privilege to attend has been wondrous in its own way, of course,"  to start with diplomacy comes naturally to her, all but a second skin; yet it feels disingenuous here and now, when she is not in front of a wheedling audience who know what they want to hear, and it will never be what she says.  even so, there is a sense of delight to be found shining in penelope's eyes, as though she actually is intrigued by ann's opinion and her experiences, and it heartens the princess to see.  she begins to settle and grow more comfortable, which shows clear as day across her face, smile growing warm as she forges ahead.

"but i have the fondest memories of beethoven's fidelio.  it was the first opera that i attended outside of ardona, towards my end of my first trip around the continent, and it was ... a powerful production."  not one that has yet entered the general repertory across the european houses, it seems, but ann remains hopeful that her former pianoforte tutor's only opera will be cemented as a success.

penelope finds herself in awe of princess ann, though she tries her best not to seem it - the last thing she wanted to do was make the other woman uncomfortable, knowing, surly, that many others had already tried to boldly assert themselves in front of her. but she could not help the admiration she held for her. not just her beauty, her dress, her perfectly falling hair and the porcelain of her skin. but, too, the grace she held herself with. it must be overwhelming, greeting others and seemingly never stopping, having others throw themselves at her with no grace of their own. and so penelope took a moment to admire ann, and then she hears her response, and the question that follows. nerves return, but penelope is able to give a smile.

'not so much, i'm afraid. my mama is not incredibly fond of attending the opera,' which meant that penelope rarely found herself here. as much as she would rather being reading books in her little corner of the world, she could not help but be enthralled by the romance and tragedy of the stories that play out on stage. even in a different language, one could understand the story, and penelope found that entrancing. eyes light up for a moment, penelope clasping gloved hands in front of her. 'paris and naples... that sounds wonderful. i am not well traveled, myself -' in fact, she has never had the opportunity to leave the ton. as much as she dreamed of doing so, penelope knew it was unlikely to happen. '- but i can imagine how incredible that must have been. if you don't mind me asking, do you have a favorite?' perhaps penelope should be leaving to find portia and her sisters, but this is the most interesting conversation she's had in weeks. she did not want to leave, now.

[pajanyas-arc]

"oh, they are beauties."  the princess' face positively lights up at the sight of the queen's man, and at the balls of fluff that accompany him.  "orwell is more familiar with horses than he is with his fellow canines."  she admits, somewhat bashfully, as though to explain away the toy spaniel's hesitance, though she rustles her skirts in the hopes of encouraging him along.  he takes it as a sign, clearly, for he gives a little hop forward, ears flopping quite adorably with the movement.  it is a delightful moment to observe, ann thinks.  "––the gardens are positively winsome, brimsley, a real sight to behold.  there are flowers here that i do not believe i've ever seen before."

❝ Your royal highness ❞ Head inclined, he halts before @pajanyas , while two of his four legged companions trot forward to examine a potential friend. ❝ I do hope you are enjoying the gardens- ❞ Brimsley's eyes stray away from the princess' for a moment as one of the pomeranians draw backwards playfully as if to pounce upon the visiting dog. ❝ Fear not, they are very tame. ❞ His lips curl up ever slightly, in tune with a subtle nod. ❝ It is quite rare for them to encounter a playmate of similar size. ❞

♔― starters

[pajanyas-arc]

placid but contained, that has been ann's demeanour for most of this evening.  though the opera box afforded her a semblance of privacy and peace, some hours where she could relax and simply enjoy herself, the curtain seemed to fall all too soon, and she was returned to the crowds and social climbers that she so dreaded.  there are few who dare to approach without a prior invitation, yet those who do are so brazenly forward it's difficult to engage with them, and oh-so-exhausting.  how unusual, that one could feel swarmed and lonesome at the same time!

she tries to tame her smile as the young lady bobs a curtsy, seeming to realise whose path she's stumbled onto a moment too late.  truth be told, ann feels that she can relate to the feeling; of being somewhere she oughtn't, of not knowing how to act or what to say.  it stirs up a sense of sympathy in her chest, and so she bows her head gracefully, almost a silent invite for her to step closer, lest the princess be left with the fossils of her entourage all night.  "yes, i did, thank you.  it was quite ... different to those that i have attended in paris and naples, but charming all the same."  she considers her reply carefully, as though it was a question of the utmost importance, therefore deserving of an equally significant answer.  "do you often frequent the theatre, miss featherington?"

where miss featherington would surly have penelope speaking with any gentleman possible at the letting out of the show, she found her eyes wondering around the room, currently uninterested in the post opera socializing, hoping, soon, that the family would return home so that she might reflect on the music she had just heard, and read her book aside her favorite viewing window. guests move through crowds. at a point, penelope has to make herself even smaller to avoid hands and elbows. she backs up against the railing, sliding out from the group and strolling towards a rather empty part of the corridor. she understands why it is more vacant than the other parts of the hall, when eyes land on princess ann of ardona. 'your highness!' penelope exclaims, giving a deep courtesy, trying to cover the way she stumbles on the way back up. her smile is nervous, brows slightly pinched. she was barely used to talking to the normal lords and ladies of the ton, let alone a royal. her cheeks flush. 'did you enjoy the opera? i found it rather wonderful, myself,' @pajanyas / sc.

[pajanyas-arc]

ann is still the crown princess of her native ardona, but she is embarking on a tour of europe, ostensibly to foster good relations and to introduce herself to the other royals of the continent, the majority of which are relations of varying degrees. the true purpose of her travels is so that she may improve her own relations with fellow royalty, and ideally, find a husband who may help her rule when the time comes.

twenty four at the time of the first series, in 1813. her family have been ruling ardona for a little over four hundred years at this stage.

while she greatly enjoys being able to see other kingdoms and nations, she loathes the constant surveillance that she is under from members of her royal household. there is nothing she would love more than to let her hair down and enjoy herself, but it is hardly considered appropriate for a future queen.

she adores attending operas and plays whenever she has a chance to, and has sparked some controversy by insisting on meeting the actors after their performances, so as to convey her appreciation towards their talent and ability, social reputations notwithstanding.

has a little phalène (dropped ear variant of the papillon) that she brought with her from home, named orwell.

though it is treated as top secret and not something that anyone ought to find out, ann struggles massively with what is termed simply as melancholia. for the most part, she is successful in masking it while in public, but in private it flares up and she can become either despondent or frenzied. when this happens, she is often secluded for a short time and dosed with laudanum (there was a time where leeches were applied on a semi-regular basis, but thankfully, that was dismissed as an unhelpful remedy).

[pajanyas-arc]

she sways a little on the spot, uncertain as to the best course of action to take.  she has got to return to the ball, that much is clear: while her absence has most definitely been noted by the few who are familiar with the princess and her disposition, they will not have drawn attention to it –– yet.  optimistic as she may be, and as high as her opinion in people is, neither crosses the line into willfully and dangerously ignorant.  she knows it would not be wise to stay out on the streets, unaccompanied and flustered, for any longer than she already has, and certainly not decked out in the trappings that are considered befitting for a woman of her station.

of course, neither is it wise for her to assume that this stranger, polite and helpful as he may seem, is well-intentioned.  but when she has little in the form of other options, there is not much for ann to do but put on a brave (read: regal) face, offer up a slight smile, and duck her head in a display of graciousness.  "that's very kind of you, sir.  if you are sure that it would not be a, a burden, then i would be most grateful."

his horse now stopped, he can see her more clearly. his immediate instinct had not been wrong, it seemed. but her finery is even more noteworthy than he'd first thought. he glances around. the street is quiet enough, no sign of any impending disturbance. but times are hard. people are struggling. and he does not doubt what some desperate soul might do when faced with the possibility of seizing jewels worth more than they might ever earn in a lifetime... after dismounting, he removes his hat and takes a step towards her. " i should be happy to, ma'am, " he replies politely, offering her a reassuring smile. " if i were to hazard a guess i would say... the assembly rooms? " but after a moment, his expression grows more serious. " but i could not, in good conscience, let you go alone... there has been unrest of late. "

[pajanyas-arc]

breath catches in her throat as the space between them lessens, and though there is some sense of dread banging away inside her chest, and fear at the simple notion of someone finally knowing and their little world coming down around them, neither are what send her heart racing.  "i –– can think of many reasons for why you ought make haste."  she struggles to get the words out at first, her mind stalling, distracted by the warmth that his fingers provide at the nape of her neck, near-forgetting the dull pain of hairpins and combs digging into her scalp mere inches above.  "but none that i wish to bring attention to."  selfish of her, perhaps, but is she not entitled to some selfishness?  are they not both?  if the two happen to find in the other some respite from their duties, their responsibilities, ought they not do precisely that?

ann often struggles to ascertain just what it is that she ought to do; or rather, to extricate the person from the princess, the self from the role.  she has long since suspected that the lord bridgerton himself shares such a sentiment, and that it is, no doubt, one such reason that they have both been a moth and the flame to each other.  "i just ... i so hate the idea of you not being truthful with your family."  and more than that, she hates feeling like the reason.

@pajanyas: your sister has a right to know.

❛❛ while my sister has a right to know a good many things, this – ❜❜  anthony shakes his head lightly. oh, this, his most coveted of secrets, is not among them. ❛❛ i am certain i do not yet wish to share. ❜❜ after all, what might it do, this revelation? he is far - enough from a superstitious man, and yet, in faerie stories, does not the speaking of a thing seek to break a spell?

his thumb grazes the curvature of her bottom lip, feeling the softness just there until it is draping down across her cheek, stroking a thoughtful line across her jaw simply to wait here, hold her gaze toward promise of his own.

he watches her watching him, a profound longing to remain here and only here stirring deep within his belly. ❛❛ but – i fear you are right. ❜❜ she often is, though far be it from anthony to admit such a truth.

❛❛ my beloved sister possesses something of a ... penchant for the innermost workings of our family home, even at such a distance. ❜❜ almost, he might dare say, more so at such a distance. ❛❛ but it can wait one night longer. ❜❜

he steps forward, grazing the tip of his nose gently against her own. between them, anthony's voice reserves itself for their nearness, his thumb continuing now to brush at the underside of her chin. spare fingers dip near the fine hairs at the back of her neck, then, and there is a rare pull of mischief at his words. ❛❛ unless you've sudden need of me to make haste. ❜❜

[pajanyas-arc]

events such as these may be second nature to her at this stage in her life, but it does not make them enjoyable.  the opposite is true, actually; the sheer frequency of them has only added to her sense of dread every time an invite arrives, its presentation to her on a silver plate more like an execution summons than a simple wedding invitation.

she is painfully aware of the expectations that are mounted on her shoulders, which only grow twofold at these things –– no-one dares to voice it, but ann is entirely too aware that it's with bated breath everyone is expecting her to announce her own engagement, or to at least find her future consort at one of these dreadful gatherings.

"you took the words right out of my mouth."  the smile that is plastered across her face does little to mask the desperation in her voice, gaze swivelling from the unfortunate couple at the centre of it all to her companion, accepting the flute with an eagerness that her entourage would surely frown at.  "where shall we flee to?"  without giving paige so much as a second to answer, ann starts up again,  "actually, it doesn't matter where, so long as it's not here."

THE WHO IS WHO OF THREE PIECE SUITS AND RIDICULOUS GOWNS . all of them gathered to celebrate the wedding of yet another heir to yet another heiress, both richer and more miserable than the generation before them. the ballroom is as cold and void of anything resembling true love as one can imagine and no amount of extravagant decor, no ridiculously pricey ornaments or artfully crafted canapés can make this appear festive. she feels like she just watched a car crash in slow motion - another pair doomed to a loveless marriage, bound together by duty or greed or what have it and telling themselves whatever they have to to sleep sound at night.

tragedy turns to misery when the speeches start. paige is frowning into her empty glass, decides to leave it on a window still and joins the only face she truly wants to see in this despicable melange of generational wealth.

( @pajanyas )

❛ this is so utterly and dreadfully boring, i might start ripping every single one of my hairs out just so i can feel anything . ❜ her saving grace comes in from of a waiter (servant - her mother would insist) balancing a tray of champagne flutes. she's swift in her movement, manages to down one and grab another before he is entirely out of reach and, in an act of true grace very becoming of a royal, hands it to ann. ❛ may i propose getting out of here? please - may i insist, actually. ❜ / closed starter ( sc. )

[pajanyas-arc]

in a rare and most shocking display of gracelessness on the princess' behalf, ann near chokes on her wine; there is a splutter, the clinking of her glass as it's set back down on the table again, the flutter of a napkin as it's pressed to her lips, and the gentle clearing of her throat to try and pass it off as something more ladylike than it really was.  "as i'm sure he always does, lord bridgerton."  beyond mortification, there is something alight in ann's eyes ... something not unlike intrigue.  "am i to take it, then, that you do not agree?"  a question that has some stares suddenly directed at her from across the way, where her entourage are engaging in mindless chitchat, but she pays them no mind as per usual.

@pajanyas sent: (37) ex-mørtis, ice nine kills.

❛ is that so? ❜  asks the viscount, holding fast to the glass of wine. ann's words might have come as a fascination to some, but to anthony bridgerton, they merely unnerve. ❛ well, then, may god have mercy on us both, yes? ❜ he punctuates the sentiment with an adamant gulp of the drink. (one could, of course, only hope)

[pajanyas-arc]

she had only meant to step outside for a breath of fresh air.  it took so long to convince her chaperones that she did not need to be supervised out in the courtyard that she had only become more uncomfortable and winded in the process; where at first her plan was to simply stand by the archway and breathe deeply, she instead ended up darting down the first street she saw, and only wandered further on from there.  "i seem to have gotten –– turned around on my little walk."  and how poorly she's dressed for the occasion!  decorations and flounces at her hem, shawl trailing behind her, a bandeau of jewels glittering in her hair.  suddenly, ann seems to realise the situation that she's found herself in, and the worry her absence might now be causing.  "i'm sorry, sir, do you think you could, ah, point me in the right direction?"

he was more than accustomed to being excluded from the soirées of the local gentry. despite his own respectability, he was not of their sphere - nor was he especially yearning to be. but what he was not accustomed to was coming across a young woman on a lonely street - finely dressed and quite worryingly alone. as he'd ridden through truro, he'd passed the assembly hall, windows bright as a ball was in full swing within. could she have strayed from there? his brows furrowed with concern and he spurred his horse forward to meet her. when he drew near, he slowed again. " ma'am... i'm sorry to intrude but - might i be of assistance? "

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 --> @pajanyas

[pajanyas-arc]

dear mason,

i cannot begin to explain how delighted i was to recognise your handwriting among the rest of my post this morning!  a glimpse of the sun in these otherwise dreary days.  sometimes i feel like all i've received while on this trip is missives from my parents and their staff alike.  simply getting the chance to sit down and write this letter back to you feels like a rarity.  until very recently, i don't think i have had the chance to relax or even to breathe.  reading your letter is like a balm for the soul, even if it does make me so very homesick.  there are another five cities on my itinerary, and then this is all finally over – is that very dreadful of me to say?  it has been a privilege, of course, to be able to embark on this goodwill tour, but so very tiring.

maturity is not all it's made out to be, even if one is in our somewhat unique positions.  i think i may well start to take a leaf or two out of your book in that regard, my friend.

the badgering about marriage is not something that i've missed, admittedly.  who are your parents trying to push on you now?  anyone i might know?  we are due a catch-up for sure; there's so much to fill you in on!  all going well, we should be back in eyrr in a little under a fortnight.  i trust i'll see you at the 'welcome home' luncheon?  the baroness let it slip, i must confess, but i'm working on my surprised-and-honoured face.  you must tell me how effective it is once i'm home.

i desperately need an opera or three,  i think.  you cannot imagine how torturous it was being in paris and rome and not being able to attend.  i suppose i should only be glad that vienna wasn't on the books.  (i miss you too, in case it needs to be said!)

news certainly does travel fast, doesn't it?  i found myself wondrously indiposed for a day while in rome, it's true.  i'm not sure what else i can say about it for the time being, but i promise i'll tell you all when i see you in person again.

all my love, ann

my   dearest   ann   ,

i   hope   this   letter   finds   you   well   at   the   embassy.   i   wasn't   too   sure   if   you'd   arrive   on   time   considering   the   horrible   weather   europe   has   been   having.   dreadful   cold   &   rain   from what i heard.   anyways   ,   i   know   you're   on   your   tour   right   now   &   i   have   to   say   ,   i   am   still   so   jealous   that   you   have been given   such   a   great   opportunity !   i   know   that   realistically   speaking   you   don't   get   to   walk   around   freely   like   we   wish   we   could   ,   but   at   least   you   get   to   see   a   glimpse   of   what   life   is   like   outside   of   palace   walls   &   that   is   more   than   i   have   ever   been   privy   to   know.   it's   quite   boring   here   without   you   ,   you   know.   not   having   you   over   our   kingdom   for   your   bi   monthly   get   togethers   is   truly   a   shame   ,   but   i   know   you   have   a   lot   of   responsibilities   to   adhere   to.   you're   much   more   mature   than   i   am   ,   &   yet   i'm   the   older   one   !   i'm   not   so   sure   what   that   says   about   me   ,   but   you   have   always   been   the   best   of   all   the   royals   i've   ever   met. just don't let that get to your head ! i can already imagine your cute little smile scrunching up in that proud way of yours.

nothing   much   has   been   happening   on   my   end.   just the   usual   things   along   with   the   constant   nagging   from   my   parents   to   find   someone   to   marry.   the   battle   never   ends   with   those   two   ,   but   i   think   they're   on   the   brink   of   surrender.   that   white   flag   is   sure   to   drop   any   day   now   !   anyways   ,   whenever   you   do   come   back   to   ardona   ,   we   need   to   catch   up   immediately   !   i   want   to   hear   about   all   your   stories   &   experiences.   let   me   live   vicariously   through   all   your   experiences   please   &   thank   you.   also   ,   we   need   to   go   to   the   opera   soon.   you're   the   only   one   who   i   can   tolerate   going   to   a   show   like   that   with   &   i   miss   it   terribly.   hell   ,   i   miss   you   in   general.

i   hope   you're   being   safe   &   that   everything   goes   smoothly.   at   one   point   i   heard   a   rumor   that   you   got   sick   ?   though   it   could   have   just   been   whispers.   you   know   how   people   love   to   gossip   .   .   .   me   included. ha   !

cannot   wait   to   see   you soon.   wishing   you   all   the   best.

your   good   friend   , prince   mason   anthony   greene of viridis.

act   one   ﹕  friendly   correspondence.   ﹙   ft.   @pajanyas   ﹚

[pajanyas-arc]

THINGS YOUR MUSE WILL NOTICE ABOUT MINE, repost, do not reblog!

WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE: her eyes are the first thing you will notice about ann, and they are her most striking feature. large, almond-shaped, and framed by long, doll-like lashes. they're a deep hazel colour with flecks of green and grey; depending on the lighting and the colours she's wearing, they can shift to a different shade entirely. she has a square face shape, with high and wide cheekbones. brows are full, straight, arch-less, complimenting the aforementioned eyes. she stands at five foot seven inches tall, but oftens sports heels, so she's closer to the five foot ten mark. her hair is a dark chocolate brown shade, practically always styled to within an inch of its life to look picture-perfect, whether it's long or short. she's slender with little to no curves, and muscle definition is lacking.

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE: when it comes to her perfumes, ann has two in her regular rotation, penhaligon's artemisia and noa by cacharel. both are quite feminine and subtle scents, floral and powdery, quite mellow. rosehip oil, which she uses in her hair and on her face. there's often a very slight hint of hairspray about her, as well.

WHAT THEY TASTE LIKE: chamomile tea, dark chocolate, champagne – sometimes moscato if she feels like venturing outside her comfort zone. she takes cucumber and mint in her water (always sparkling), which lends a crisp and fresh taste to her mouth. her diet is varied, but as is typical with her lifestyle, the food she eats is always rich and never overpowering.

WHAT THEY SOUND LIKE: ann is multilingual, and has a slightly different accent with each language that she speaks, but they are all notably posh. her english would best be described as received pronunciation, or the queen's english. she has quite a sing-song cadence, and while she is fluent, she speaks it more slowly and deliberately than a native speaker would. her voice fluctuates depending on the company she's in, and the feelings she's experiencing – when in active princess mode, it's formal, it's low and authoritative, regulated, and never raised. with friends and family, it understandably relaxes, and is more prone to rise in both volume and intonation. contractions are never used in the former, while they're far more common in the latter.

WHAT THEY FEEL LIKE: though lacking in muscle definition, she's not particularly soft either, as she's a bony individual. her skin is silky smooth, her hands uncalloused and unblemished, her hair glossy and sleek. she has always kept to rigorous routines when it comes to these things, as her appearance is (regrettably) an important aspect of her position and reputation. she has only one scar on her left thigh, from a polo incident in her youth, the skin still raised and darkened. ann tends to run cold, so often times there's a chill to her skin.

TAGGED BY: @gunbash loml truly TAGGING: @entheosis, @wtrss, @biggestnda, anyone who wants to do it x

[pajanyas-arc]

her hair looks and feels more like a helmet than it does anything else, but ann supposes that just means it'll stay in place for the tens of hours that she's likely to be on her feet today.  "thank you,"  expression softens for just a moment to allow a sliver of gratitude to pass by before she swats a hand at his shoulder, puff sleeves shaking with the motion, and the ever gracious smile of hers making way for a more playful spin of a rarely-spotted but oft-appreciated grin.  "flatterer."  he won't take it personally, and she knows that, and she appreciates that.  attention is once again directed out at the world beyond them, and this absurdly luxurious hotel.

"i suppose i'd be terribly conspicuous, wouldn't i?"  try as she may to not get her hopes up, ann's never been very successful at wearing her heart anywhere but her sleeve; and though her mind is already straying to what her retinue would think, a delay to the impeccably arranged schedule, an unnecessary detour that poses as a safety hazard, and whatever other countless objections they may raise, she is also reminded that they are simply that –– her retinue.  "would we really be able to?"

he can tell something irks her . perhaps it's anne's usual complaint — her desperation to be rid of the responsibility and try normal life for a change . perhaps she hears the honking cars and festivities in the streets below and yearns to participate . . . as a casual passerby , NOT AS A PRINCESS . sebastian has spent many a night discussing these issues with her , sympathizing , trying to understand her perspective , and while he remains professional at all times . . . sebastian always seems to soften when they have those kinds of talks . HE WISHES HE COULD HELP HER .

❝ i like it , you know , ❞ he comments , approaching @pajanyas at the window . ❝ your hair . it's quite lovely . then again , you always look lovely . ❞ side by side with her now , sebastian gazes across the same streets she does and contemplates her longing . ❝ i wonder . . . ❞ lips pursed , he glances at the princess with quizzical eyes . ❝ it's quite stuffy in here . perhaps there's an opportunity for an outing , just you and i . i could be . . . convinced to allow this to happen . maybe if you promise me i won't get into trouble or be fired over it . ❞ now he waits for her response . ❝ would you like that , princess ? JUST A FEW MINUTES OF OUTSIDE AIR . . . ❞

[pajanyas-arc]

"you sound a little bit like that."  she defends her subpar impersonation, despite knowing there's a reason she has long since preferred to work backstage in the few theatre productions she's been a part of, both here and back home.  her eyes narrow as he takes his turn now to imitate her, but she doesn't make an argument against it; someone has to rise above, after all.  "you could've just said your mum will be there and saved yourself the effort of selling this dinner to me, you know."  there's a shimmer of something mischievous in her eyes akin to the teasing in her tone, and she stretches a hand out towards him, pinky finger held aloft as though waiting for the promise to be set in unassailable stone.  "it's a deal.  i'm already thinking about all the drawn-out european plays that i can drag you to."

“ come on, of COURSE it will be. ” he's amused, certain she's been weighing out the pros and cons in her head. “ and i do not sound like that, princess. ” alex is grateful she'll come, grateful she's attending this thing she technically shouldn't know is going on considering the fact she's OVERSEAS and not doing crown princess things. “ okay, okay, fine. it might be just a dinner that's been awarded that particular accolade a million billion times, ” he raises his voice an octave to imitate her voice now, eyes gleaming as he does. “ but this'll be the first one you've gone to with me. so it will be the dinner of the year. plus my mom looks at me funny if i act up in any way. and then i get lectured. so it'll be fine! pinky swear. if i'm lying, we'll go to the theater three times. what do you think about THAT? ”

[pajanyas-arc]

"'it's just the most important meal of the year',"  she repeats his own words back to him, and pitching her voice an octave lower to really complete the imitation, no matter how inaccurate it may be.  "have you any idea how many dinners i've attended that have been awarded that particular accolade?"  entirely too many is the only correct answer to her already rhetorical question.  she spent the latter half of her teenage years bored half out of her wits at some banquet table with nato officials or members of the european commission, all a little uncertain as to what the proper protocol is –– whether it was because she was a princess or a teenage girl, ann isn't sure.  the latter must have held the edge when it came to levels of intimidation, she can imagine.  "because i know you, and i know it won't be as simple as that."

“ what's american about making a big deal about meeting nine million world leaders? not all of us are crown princesses, you know. ” he teases, NOSE SCRUNCHED, SMILE WIDE, AND SPARKLING EYES. alex can already hear his mother and zahra in his ear — she's a crown princess. don't be weird. behave. you're representing the u.s. and helping us with our alliance with them — to which he'll do his absolute best to quell their fears. COME ON, YOU KNOW ME. I'M THE PICTURE OF CLASS! “ yeah, yeah. i'll even pull out my tux or whatever. ” he waves his hand, then motions for her to follow. “ besides, you and i will be guests. nothing we need to do but sit back, relax, eat, and ENJOY. what's so bad about that? ” he asks, arms crossed over his chest as he starts to walk.

[pajanyas-arc]

"oh, how very american of you to call it that."  it's the gentlest of digs at him, yet it's the most that she's capable of; and a wry smile softly blossoms soon after, just to show that she doesn't really mind.  sure, she came to the united states thinking that she might get away with having just one year in her twenties that was not spent rubbing elbows with influential dignitaries and foreign leaders, but it was foolish of her to expect anything else, truly.  "fine, i'll come.  ...  but you owe me a theatre trip or two!"  a figure is pointed in his direction as menacingly as she can manage, which is to say –– not very.

@pajanyas : well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into.

“ it's not a mess, your highness. it's JUST the most important meal of the year. ” some lunch with half a dozen leaders from the un, one he was being forced to attend along with the families of the other presidents and prime ministers. and god, it was going to be so, so boring. he told his mother to jot down ann as his guest, someone to at least talk to while his mother and the other leaders talked about random nonsense that he knew next to nothing about. “ we'll just do that huge, massive paper before we leave for the lunch. come on, please? ” he draws out the please, fluttering his eyelashes at his friend with a bright, shiny smile on his face.