#WIP: deceit

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

HFOD update: the book itself is finished! Just the epilogue left!

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

A trick it is! :D Here's an excerpt from Houses Full of Deceit, where Leo is drunk (warning for discussion of mutilation):

They had no anaesthetic, so Yo-han had given Colman two cups of soju before stitching up the wounds. On one hand, it worked. On the other, Colman could not hold his liquor. An hour had passed and he was still stumbling over his words. "I knooow why he u-used vinegar," Colman said, very slowly and carefully. Yo-han knew too, but he waited to hear if Colman had some superior first-hand knowledge on the subject. "He — why do we say he? I've met women who'd cut off fingers. Plenty of 'em. He wanted to per– perse– keep it fresh." Colman stopped and became very interested in the window. "We're moving!" he announced, as if this was a ground-breaking discovery. Yo-han had known it for the last hour, ever since they had left the harbour. He tried to bring Colman back to the subject. "I'm assuming it's a man because I think I met him once. If it's the same man, his name is An Ji-hun." Colman said something that sounded like, "Nururdovm." He tried again and managed to say, reasonably clearly, "Never heard of him." Once again he got distracted by the window. "Where's the city?" "About ten miles behind us," Yo-han said patiently. "Oh." Colman took a minute to ponder this. "He cuts off fingers. So he wants to keep 'em for himself. So he should have formalade." At first Yo-han thought this was an English word he hadn't learnt before. He had to suppress a most unsuitable fit of laughter when he realised it was Colman's drunken attempt at saying "formaldehyde". "So why the vinegar?" he prompted when Colman didn't continue. "He didn't bring it with him!" Colman seemed ridiculously proud of himself for thinking of this. Years ago Yo-han had tried to help his half-siblings with their lessons. He felt like he was back in the schoolroom, patiently trying to explain that clouds were not floating snowdrifts. "Why is this important?" "He couldn't smuggle it in—" He broke off and rubbed his forehead with a pained expression. "My head hurts." Oh dear. A drunk Colman was mildly entertaining. A hungover Colman, on the other hand? Yo-han knew from painful experience that the mildest person could feel like committing murder when they had a hangover. What would an assassin feel like doing? "He couldn't smuggle it in," Colman repeated. His voice was clearer but quieter, and he was covering his eyes with both his hands. "So he bought it in England. But he didn't buy enough. Maybe he miscalculated how much he would need, or maybe the chemist got suspicious. So he had to improvise. He used the formaldehyde for the fingers he means to keep for his own collection, and used vinegar to preserve the one he sent to you. He wanted to send a message, so it didn't matter if the finger started to rot." "A plausible theory," Yo-han agreed, "but how does it help us?" Colman tried to turn onto his stomach. He hissed when this tugged at the stitches. Instead he pulled the pillow over his face. "Ask the chemists. If you're right and this Ji An-hun is the killer—" "An Ji-hun." "—then the chemist would definitely remember him. A Korean customer looking for formaldehyde isn't something you see every day in England. Now could you please turn out the light and let me suffer in peace?" Yo-han got up. "Do you want anything to eat?" "Oh god no," Colman groaned. "And if anyone asks about me, tell them I'm dead."

Adding HFOD's taglist: @lightgriffinsect, @oh-no-another-idea, @kittensartswriting (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

Trick or Treat? 🦇

Trick !!! 👻

[freckled-paints]

SLEEPY GFS FOR THE WIN!!!

[sheepieberry]

Made a dol npc so I can harass my pc even more than he already is yayyyy!!!

Xavier the Star 🌟

[dani4the6]

Nothing more terrifying/fun than the yandere man in the game having meta information about the game. What do you mean you know what choice I picked last time? What are you doing messing with my choices?

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Thanks for the tag! :D (I'm both worried and curious about the context for that line!)

Here's a line from Houses Full of Deceit:

"You could be the next Henry Irving and instead you're keeping detectives all over the world in regular employment!"

Tagging @radiowrites, @winterandwords, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

New writing game because I’m so tired and I’ve been sad that I haven’t been up for as much writeblr lately.

So

Reblog this with one line, devoid of context, that you wrote today (or the last time you wrote).

I’ll start:

It wasn’t, really. Not nearly as sharp as chocolate.

I’ll gently tag @writernopal @moonluringfrost @abalonetea @author-a-holmes@ albatris @sithbelle @moonshinemagpie @keysandopenmind @mister-writes @gummybugg @sam-glade @stesierra @akiwitch and @k-v-briarwood because that was who I could come up with off the top of my head but if you see this consider yourself tagged!

[max-the-valkyrie]

Edit: Check reblogs for finished Day 4!!

Finished day 4 of #dukecietweek will be delayed (sadge)

Here’s the wip tho (happ)

:)

[void-snakat]

Wip of a piece of art with Nalis 🍋 in it. I put different versions of the piece down. I LOVE Symptoms of Deceit 🦑 it is one of my favorite visual novels!!!! Unsurprisingly Nalis 🍋 is my favorite (onlyslightly) (AlsoTremolove) Tell me which one is your favorite!!!

@symptomsofdeceit

[absolutecinemadw]

I can’t find exetober source so if anyone knows where it’s from pls say

Anyways Tails Doll deceit Wip

Get ready to see a lot of him

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

This trick is... an excerpt from Houses Full of Deceit! Warning for referenced murder, including the murder of children, and mutilation:

"Tell me everything you know about them," he said. "Virtually nothing," Colman said. "Mr. Hastings was some sort of diplomat. His wife was… Chinese? Maybe? They had three children. They were killed about a week before they were found. And that's it." He blinked in confusion at Yo-han's shaken expression. "What's wrong?" It was a coincidence. It had to be. Hastings was a common surname in England. Surely there was some other Mr. Hastings who had been a diplomat in East Asia and had married a local woman. "You're sure his wife was Chinese?" Yo-han asked. His voice seemed to come from a long distance away. Colman shook his head. "Not necessarily Chinese, but from somewhere around here. Her picture was in the paper. Oh, and there was another detail that proves I didn't do it. Or would prove it, if any of those idiot policemen bothered to study my methods. The killer cut off a finger from each victim. Took two from Mrs. Hastings, for some reason. When have I ever done that? It's just grotesque." "Taking souvenirs," Yo-han said automatically, while his mind was on something else entirely. "Commonly seen in serial killers. They take something of their victim's — hair, clothes, a tooth, or in this case a body part — to remind them." Colman looked at him oddly. "Are you all right? You sound… Well, I know it's a disgusting crime, but we've seen enough death that it shouldn't affect us." Yo-han's mouth seemed to move without consulting his brain. "My cousin married an Englishman. His surname was Hastings. He was a secretary at the British Embassy." To do him justice, Colman looked as shaken as Yo-han felt. "It's probably not the same Hastings," he said. It sounded even less convincing from him than it had in Yo-han's head. Someone tried to kill him and Hyeon-su. Now his cousin was possibly… Yo-han had once thought his house was cosy. Now it felt oppressive. The walls seemed to trap him inside. Like a cornered mouse waiting for the cat to strike… "We've got to get out of here," he said. Colman accepted this without question. "Probably not a good idea to go back via Siam. Someone will be looking for me there." Yo-han had meant to get out of Seoul specifically. He hadn't had time to think of going any further. Now that Colman mentioned it, he saw that they might as well go to England. That was where the murders had been committed. That was where the evidence would be found. If Mrs. Hastings was Seo Eun-a, that was where her body was buried. A finger taken from each body. Except Mrs. Hastings, who had two fingers taken. Patterns were always important in crime. Deviations from patterns much more so. The killer had no need of two souvenirs from one victim. Which meant… Yo-han felt like a bucket of icy water had been poured over his head. "How long ago were the murders?" "October last year." October. Now it was February. Even allowing for the time it took to travel between England and Korea… As if on cue, the phone rang. Yo-han got up. The short walk from the living room to his study seemed to stretch endlessly. Yo-han picked up the phone. With a sickening sense of dread he said, "Yes?" It was a relief to hear Hyeon-su's voice at the other end. Then he said what he was calling about, and the dread returned. "Someone's sent a package for you to our house. Do you want me to send it on to you or will you collect it?"

Adding HFOD's taglist: @lightgriffinsect, @oh-no-another-idea, @kittensartswriting, @akindofmagictoo (Let me know if you want to be added/removed!)

Trick or Treat? 🦇

ding dong

coin says…..

TRICK!

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Manuscript Search Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @winterandwords! :D

Words: great, good, bad and awful. These are from Houses Full of Deceit:

Great:

"No. No, she's… she's someone I wronged very badly years ago. I realised I loved her too late." Leo became very interested in the church's noticeboard. "I caused her a great deal of misery. I nearly got her arrested for a crime I committed, and I didn't speak up to save her."

Good:

Colman accepted this without question. "Probably not a good idea to go back via Siam. Someone will be looking for me there."

Bad:

Yo-han had never been in love himself. He had seen enough over the years to know it was the most dangerous and irrational thing in the world. He had politely pretended not to notice Miss Patton's feelings — a difficult task when she had a scrapbook full of photos of Colman, and he had accidentally opened it one day. What would the consequences be if he brought the two of them together? Especially when, unless he was badly mistaken about that blush, Miss Patton's feelings might not be unrequited?

Awful:

When she and Leo had first sat down here to wait, Phil had felt awfully conspicuous. She'd almost expected someone to stop and question them. Surely someone would notice Leo's gun. He had it hidden under his jacket, carried in a holster that went over his shoulders instead of around his waist.

Tagging @oh-no-another-idea, @elshells, @sentfromwolves, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D New words: remember, recall, forget and overlook.

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Not sure when i will get the energy to complete this one since linearts are a pain!

Either way, drew some more for the Royal Archer Janus story idea (nothing written out yet, just shitposts and some arts and maps i wanna redo)

based on this meme

[wipbigbang]

Round 2 Of Artists Claims For The Regular WIPBB Are Open! Round 2 lasts until July 31st! You may claim 3 fics this round!

This is one of the fics open for claiming...

Sanders Sides #090 Title: Just Like Magic Pairing/Characters: Logan (Logic) Sanders & Janus (Deceit) Sanders Rating: Teen | T Warnings/Tags: No Warnings apply Summary:

There are no mages in the South. There are no mages in the South. There are no mages in the South.

There are mages in the South.

The list of remaining fics and the link to sign up are below!

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

And for our next trick: an excerpt from Houses Full of Deceit, where Leo and his father have a family reunion (warning for murder):

Colman finished his cigarette. He dropped it and ground it into the earth with his heel. He used much more force than necessary. When he looked up he stared at Keir's head as if calculating how easy it would be to do the same to him. Then he began to speak. He told a grim, sordid story. Keir knew the first half. The second didn't surprise him. And with each word he felt the noose tightening around his neck. Finally Colman paused. His mouth twisted into something more reminiscent of a wolf's snarl than a human expression. He looked at Keir as if he wanted to tear his throat out with his teeth. "Agnes died fourteen years ago." He looked down at the well. His fringe concealed his face. In the echoes of his words Keir heard his death knell. He struggled against the ropes. They cut deep into the back of his wrists. The blood soaked the rope but didn't do anything to help him squeeze his hands out of it. Trying to free his knees ended with him sprawled on the ground. He twisted and writhed like an earthworm. In his struggles he didn't notice the shadow that fell over him. Colman's foot landed between his shoulder-blades. Keir was shoved down into the ground. Dirt filled his mouth and nose. "I've hunted you for years. I thought for a long time about how I'd kill you. Not with a gun; it must be slow. Lingering. Painful. I ruled out fire because it takes too long. So water it is." He hauled Keir to his feet. "They used to test people accused of being witches this way," he said with a grin — or rather with baring his teeth. "Tie them up, throw them into the water, and if they sank they were innocent." He turned Keir around so he was facing the well. The water was still. The sky was cloudless. Overhead the sun was shining. A tremendous splash startled a few birds from the trees.

Adding HFOD's taglist: @lightgriffinsect​, @oh-no-another-idea​, @kittensartswriting, @akindofmagictoo (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

Trick or Treat? 🦇

Trick! 🦂🎃🍬

[rjthirsty]

Chapter Eighteen (Deceit and Decay)

Words: 3.5k

Tags: Deception, Amnesia, References to Abduction of MC

A/N: For a full list of tags, please visit ao3. You can read previous chapters on ao3 or off my masterlist here on tumblr.

What if Belle didn't fall in love with the Conqueror Beast? What if his last hope abandoned him, simply because she didn't know he existed? Would his black heart break and crack, or grow as hard as stone? An AU where Chevalier is crowned for Rhodolite, Gilbert lost his last shred of humanity, and MC (Dahlia) is thrust into a nightmare world where deceit and decay are everyday occurrences.

The sunlight that poured through the open curtains in Dahlia’s room was harsher than what Gilbert was used to waking up to. His room had large windows far away from his bed that gradually brought in the morning rays. Dahlia’s did not. Her bed was located near one of the arched windows in her room. With the curtains left open, the sun streamed unrestricted into her room, falling on the bed and lighting the entire area. It wasn’t a pleasant thing to wake up to first thing in the morning.

Gilbert squinted with his only uncovered eye, allowing himself to rest with Dahlia a few minutes longer. In truth, he was assessing himself and how his body felt, something he did every morning to determine how much he could physically manage without straining his health too much. His time was getting shorter and shorter, and the amount he could push himself was also dwindling. Exertion left him tired beyond belief, and that’s not even counting the pain that came from the coughing or keeping up the act and starving his body of oxygen by not coughing.

Last night, however, he had slept early and long, comforted by the warmth of Dahlia next to him. He’d have to find a way to coax her into spending the night with him more often. He wanted to give her space, to bring her around in time, but time was slipping away from him and if he didn’t grab onto her quickly he might never be able to hold her like he desired. If anything, spending the last week in the same bed with her, and then again last night, had proven that she was remedying some of his ailments. It was likely her body heat, if not it being her specifically.

With sluggish movements, Gilbert carried himself out of bed, his limbs feeling less like lead for once and more mobile than he had been in a long time. The fire had died during the night, and the room still held the chill of the coming season, but it would warm significantly within a few hours judging from the amount of blinding light that came through the window.

His appointment with the bookseller wasn’t for several hours - late morning - and he had taken it upon himself to watch Dahlia for today. He would do the same for as many days as she needed him by her side to come out of this unfortunate state. A flicker of the anger he felt for the damned Rhodolitian prince ignited within him. If the bastard had kept his place and left Dahlia alone, she wouldn’t be suffering right now. What a fool. Death was too simple an ending for him.

Dahlia continued to sleep well into the day, her eyes remaining closed no matter how many times Gilbert whispered her name, or spoke to her. There were a few points that Gilbert checked to see if she was still breathing, afraid that her body would give out completely like her mind did. But, thankfully, each time he checked he felt her soft breath flow on his skin or was able to watch her bosom rise in rhythmic movements. He’d chuckle and chide her for scaring him, then a frown would pull on the corners of his lips at her lack of response.

Eventually, the time came for his appointment, and Roderic took over dutifully watching Dahlia. He loathed to leave, but his guest was an important man - perhaps not in status or to the royal family of Obsidian, but to him and the woman who was staying under his care. Tucking the letter Dahlia had written to Akatsuki into his jacket pocket, Gilbert made his way through the long, winding corridors to one of the receiving rooms located on the first floor where he was greeted enthusiastically by his old friend.

“Where’s my daughter, you bastard?” Mr. Akatsuki jumped up from his seat as soon as Gilbert entered the room, his swift movements uncommon for a man his age, but not wholly unexpected.

“Ahaha! Is that how you greet royalty these days? Tut tut.” Gilbert clicked his teeth, letting his hand relax that had been clutching the handle of his cane once he noticed Akatsuki had no weapons of his own. He had wondered if Akatsuki was disarmed on arrival, or if he simply didn’t bring his strange, thin sword with him.

“You’re not going to lock me up for some faux pas in issuing formalities. Now, where’s Dahlia?” Akatsuki didn’t make any move to get within Gilbert’s space, likely keeping his distance to avoid a physical confrontation. He had always been a smart and calculating man, and it pleased Gil that he saw him as a threat and not the sickly child he once was.

“About that,” Gilbert indicated with his cane at Akatsuki’s chair, prompting the older man to take his seat again. Gilbert sat in his own padded chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Dahlia is currently resting after the unexpected guest that appeared yesterday.”

Akatsuki’s dark stare grew grim, the thin line of his lips pursed thinner in a displeased fashion, but his eyes never faltered from meeting Gilbert’s. He clearly heard about the fourth prince’s death, but it seemed his concern was more for Dahlia than the wellbeing of the Rhodolitian prince.

Gilbert had learned of Akatsuki’s admittance into Obsidian days earlier. He had also learned that there was an apprentice traveling with him. Akatsuki had never traveled with another in all the years he had visited Obsidian, so it wasn’t difficult to figure out something was amiss. For a moment he had believed Akatsuki was part of some plan to steal Dahlia back, but it appeared that he was coming on his own wishes, and happened to bring the stray along.

“You’re not one to give into threats, why did you bring him?” Gilbert asked, watching the older man closely.

“The lot of those idiot kids couldn’t threaten me if they tried. He asked to come along and I could use the extra hands loading the cart. It also helps to have two people driving, less time managing the horses myself.” Akatsuki gruffly answered. Whether he was lying or not remained to be seen, but Gilbert had never felt the man to be disingenuous, and right now he seemed to be speaking in the same manner.

“You know what happened to him, right? You are aware of what his intentions were, and you still brought him into my country.” Recalling the way the fourth prince attempted to take Dahlia from him reignited his anger. It simmered below his tight smile. His eye gleamed, burning in seething hatred.

“What trouble he got himself into isn’t my business.” Akatsuki answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “What sort of man abducts a woman in the middle of the night, anyway? I told you stories about Dahlia to encourage you, not for you to kidnap her.”

“Like how the Rhodolitian’s kidnapped her?” Gilbert’s smile was cold. “Did you make a desperate plea as a father to get her back then? She was in that den of beasts for a year.”

“She made the choice to stay.” Akatsuki insisted. “Their devil minister is unorthodox, I’ll admit, but she signed the contract and then after decided to take up tutoring. I am not in control of her life.” 

“She made the choice to stay here, as well.” Gilbert smugly grinned, pulling the letter penned by Dahlia from his jacket. He held the envelope up for Akatsuki to see, then leaned forward to hand off the letter addressed to him. “I assure you, she is being taken care of very well. I wouldn’t harm her.”

Akatsuki snatched the letter indignantly, glancing back at Gilbert after he inspected the handwriting. “How am I supposed to believe you didn’t force her to write this?” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the envelope and glanced over the page full of Dahlia’s writing.

“Ahaha! Do you really think me that much of a villain? Well, I am, but reconsider that question before you ask it again. You know Dahlia better than anyone else, would she write whatever it is she wrote to you if I had forced her to?”

An intelligible grumble came from Akatsuki, his eyes darting across the page. Gilbert truly hadn’t read the contents, but he had an idea of the type of thing Dahlia would send to her family. Promises of being well and not wanting to cause worry. Assurances that she wasn’t being held captive - unless, of course she felt that way - but he hadn’t given her a reason to consider this palace a prison… yet.

Akatsuki refolded the letter and huffed, perturbed that Gilbert was correct in his challenge. Dahlia wouldn’t write the things she did if she was forced to write to family. She was a smart woman, and this was a normal letter that anyone would write free from distress. He crossed his arms again and pursed his lips. “I’m not going to believe she’s well until I see her.���

“Impossible.” Gilbert answered definitively, he continued in a softer tone appealing to Akatsuki’s sympathetic adoration for his adopted daughter. “I don’t have her locked up, but she really did have a fright yesterday. The Fourth Prince showed a side of himself she hadn’t seen before. Simply beastly. The Little Rabbit has been holed up in her room since we returned. Oh, but don’t worry, I have given her an attendant and she is being looked after to be certain her needs are met.”

The old man gazed at Gilbert as if silently assessing him. His eyes swam with emotion, the same emotion that was always evident whenever he talked about Dahlia in the many visits before. She really was cared about. A sharp pain needled at Gilbert’s chest, something foreign yet familiar like he had forgotten the feeling but knew what it was.

“Did you have to kill him?” Akatsuki finally asked, feeling a sense of guilt from helping bring Leon to his untimely death.

“He cut down six of my men, what other choice did I have?” Gilbert returned Akatsuki’s solemn expression, letting the heaviness of those deaths sink in and weigh the atmosphere down.

After a brief silence in the gloomy air, Gilbert offered his pleasant smile, his voice chipper once more. “You’re free to return any time you’d like, just as before. You still have the pass with the royal seal, and I welcome your wares whenever you come to trade. Perhaps next time the Little Rabbit won’t be feeling so overwhelmed.”

Dahlia's mind slipped out of the thick, dark soup of unconsciousness into a slightly less thick fog of grogginess. Her thoughts turned slowly, struggling to make sense of the series of impulses that were relaying messages from the rest of her body. Tired– more than that - exhaustion drained her and made her head and limbs feel heavy. Pain. So much pain. Her arm was nearly unbearable where her fractured bone ached spreading around her shoulder and up her neck.

Akatsuki sighed deeply, begrudgingly coming to accept what Gilbert had fed him as the truth. He had known the First Prince for over twenty years, and there was one thing he was always certain of: he detested lies and any information given was to be considered truthful, if only partially. The rest of his trust lay in Dahlia and the words she had given him in her letter. He doubted she was made aware that he was in Obsidian - in the castle - but there was nothing he could do at the moment to rectify that. Gilbert was already being lenient with him despite him being the one responsible for bringing Leon into Obsidian. If he were anyone else, he’d likely be in a cell and not about to sell foreign books to the prince. It seemed this was his punishment for that stunt.

A quiet whine accompanied her grimace as she pushed herself to sit up in bed. Her movements protested with aches and stiffness in her muscles and joints like she had been tense all night. With the fall she had taken yesterday, it didn't surprise her how much her body refused to move and cooperate. She was certain what she couldn't see of her arm was bruised if she had landed hard enough to break a bone. Perhaps it would be best to rest for today. 

Silently contemplating her next move, Dahlia sat motionless in bed staring down at the comforter. She ran through the possible outcomes her letters would bring, seeing as how Prince Gilbert had allowed her to pen King Chevalier and the other princes in Rhodolite. She had written she was being treated well, and of her promise to spend a short visit in Prince Gilbert's care. But she also expressed her desire to come home as quickly as possible, and that she would attempt to learn why her host had gone to such lengths to the point of abducting her.

With her status still that of a commoner, she held no real strategic value outside of her connections romantically to the royalty in Rhodolite. But she had spent enough time around the princes to know that King Chevalier wouldn’t put his country on the line for his mistress, and he would manage his brothers in the same manner. But then, what was the whole point of stealing her away in the middle of the night? She wasn’t a political hostage. She was just a mistress being held amicably in another country and soon Prince Gilbert would realize she wasn’t worth the effort he had put into obtaining her.

A deep sigh dipped her shoulders and drained her lungs. What would the Emperor think of all of this? Perhaps her lack of value was working to her advantage at the moment. This was seeming more and more like a petty squabble between children who were unfortunately grown men, one running a kingdom, and the other next in line for– Did Obsidian work off first in the bloodline, or did they have their own crowning process like Rhodolite had Belle?

“Forgive me, milady.” A soft voice startled Dahlia from her thoughts. Instincts kicked in and she jumped in bed, her hand gripping the blankets over her, her heart pounded and body tensed, ready to run if needed. Her head snapped towards the cloaked person the voice had come from, and within a moment Dahlia realized that Roderic was sitting in the room outside of her direct line of sight. He was more than enough in her peripheral vision, but when he was so silent and still she often found him hard to notice when not looking for him.

“Roderic!” Dahlia admonished exasperatedly. “You scared the life out of me!” She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her heart, letting her hand move from the blankets to her chest. “What are you doing in my room? Gods, you could have said something sooner.”

“I… am to watch over you for a time today. You’re due for your pain medicine.” Although he was tasked with watching Dahlia while Gilbert was occupied, she hadn't stirred at all that morning. He expected her to continue sleeping or at most wake in the same vacant state as she was in yesterday. When she had begun moving around, he wanted to give her time to come to her senses, but then she sat unmoving and staring at her bed and he worried she might have slipped back into some sort of unresponsive malady. Unfortunately for him, this was the second time he startled her right after she woke up, and he was hoping it wouldn't become a common occurrence. 

“Thank you, I would appreciate it. I can even feel the pain in my sleep. Do you know if it will subside soon?” Dahlia bunched up the blankets with one hand, attempting to slide out of the plush bed. She wasn’t wearing much, but Roderic had already undressed her once, and at least she was still covered this time.

“I suspect within a few days.” Roderic moved quickly and silently and before Dahlia knew it, he had come into her line of sight by the time she had her feet on the ground.

The medicine was bitter, but relief came almost instantly. However, the floating, airy feeling that came with it was almost instantly clouding her thoughts as well. She had never had a tincture like this before and didn’t enjoy the way her thoughts felt far away despite being in her own head. “A few days will have to do, then. I feel like I’m less myself in this state.”

Dahlia sighed, trying not to give into the gloom that clung to her current circumstances. She was not a pessimistic person, but blind optimism didn't rule her either. She could see the silver lining in most situations if she had a moment to think about them, and in this case it was only a few days. A few days of feeling out of sorts, then she wouldn't require the pain medicine any longer. She had no idea how long it would take for a fracture to heal completely, but Prince Gilbert had promised her an attendant so she wouldn't be helpless for long.

“Will you be assisting me this morning?” Dahlia wrangled out a night robe to cover her night clothes with, stubbornly attempting to dress herself.

Roderic circled around her, helping Dahlia slip her arm into the sleeve and tying the garment closed after he draped the rest over her immobile arm. “Prince Gilbert would insist it be him.”

Dahlia tilted her head to peer at Roderic, his low hanging hood making it impossible to see his face. He must have been making a joke, because the sentence seemed absolutely absurd. “Prince Gilbert cannot. I can't have a prince as an attendant.”

Roderic bit his lip, unsure how to proceed. Gilbert would kill anyone else who touched Dahlia, he was already aware of that. He had also already dismissed Dahlia's new attendant for the day, and already set aside the time to care for her. She wasn't going to be able to deny him - he had seen it too many times - if Prince Gilbert wants to do something, he does it. No one denies him.

“Roderic, Prince Gilbert can't be my attendant.” Dahlia repeated herself as if that would somehow convince him. “You do know I'm not royalty, right? I'm not even nobility.”

“... Yes, I'm aware.” Roderic answered slowly. 

“Then you know he can't lower himself like that. Even if I were nobility, it would be indecent for him to personally see to my needs.” Dahlia stared at him with wide eyes full of worry to the point it made him uncomfortable and he had to turn away.

Roderic's silence was disquieting. An uneasy string of worry knotted itself in Dahlia's stomach with each word Roderic didn't say. He hadn't spoken much since they had met a week ago, and while he was difficult to read, Dahlia thought she was starting to understand his nonverbal clues. His avoidance to her gaze told her he had nothing to offer as assurance to ease her anxiety.

It wasn't just about propriety for Dahlia. Sure, staying within the comfort of socially acceptable rules was a thought of hers, and provided a good reason to deny Prince Gilbert's special brand of generosity, but she was lovers with many princes already and couldn't give a damn about what was socially acceptable in that regard. No, the problem was how this would appear to others, and what it would mean for her future and her kingdom.

People would assume that Prince Gilbert was taken with her. The way he already clung to her would only reinforce the rumor, and now he would be playing servant to her - it would be natural to think they were an item in that case. They were not, of course. But if that is how it appears, and how others would view it– well, she had plenty of experience in Rhodolite about how nobility would treat her in that case. The results for the same implications in Obsidian scared her much more.

Was this Prince Gilbert's goal all along? Steal her away so he can smother her with false kindness in order to make her a target within the Obsidian court? It would call her place as a Rhodolite court minister into question as well. Not only because Gilbert was a prince and her work would be scrutinized, but because he's Obsidian, too. It's not as if she can tell people that she was kidnapped, no one would believe her with the way he had been doting on her.

While these thoughts twisted and turned in her mind, Dahlia still found them hard to swallow. They didn't feel right. If anything, despite the way she was roped into all of this, Prince Gilbert had seemed sincere in his attempts at kindness. He was guarded and his reasoning incomprehensible, but he never gave her the impression there was any malice driving his actions toward her. And that made everything even more confusing inside Dahlia's already disjointed mind.

“What if I request you, instead?”

[vinivan]

i'm still working on a sander sides new year drawing and i just want to let y'all know who my favorites clearly are bc-

THEY ARE SO CUTE